eir mental blotches and running sores.
They are sensible that religious instruction is of more consequence to
them than to any others: from the greatness of the temptation to which
they are exposed; from the important consequences that attend their
faults; from the contagion of their ill example; from the necessity of
bowing down the stubborn neck of their pride and ambition to the yoke of
moderation and virtue; from a consideration of the fat stupidity and
gross ignorance concerning what imports men most to know, which prevails
at courts, and at the head of armies, and in senates, as much as at the
loom and in the field.

The English people are satisfied, that to the great the consolations of
religion are as necessary as its instructions. They, too, are among the
unhappy. They feel personal pain and domestic sorrow. In these they have
no privilege, but are subject to pay their full contingent to the
contributions levied on mortality. They want this sovereign balm under
their gnawing cares and anxieties, which, being less conversant about
the limited wants of animal life, range without limit, and are
diversified by infinite combinations in the wild and unbounded regions
of imagination. Some charitable dole is wanting to these, our often
very unhappy brethren, to fill the gloomy void that reigns in minds
which have nothing on earth to hope or fear; something to relieve in the
killing languor and over-labored lassitude of those who have nothing to
do; something to excite an appetite to existence in the palled satiety
which attends on all pleasures which may be bought, where Nature is not
left to her own process, where even desire is anticipated, and therefore
fruition defeated by meditated schemes and contrivances of delight, and
no interval, no obstacle, is interposed between the wish and the
accomplishment.

The people of England know how little influence the teachers of religion
are likely to have with the wealthy and powerful of long standing, and
how much less with the newly fortunate, if they appear in a manner no
way assorted to those with whom they must associate, and over whom they
must even exercise, in some cases, something like an authority. What
must they think of that body of teachers, if they see it in no part
above the establishment of their domestic servants? If the poverty were
voluntary, there might be some difference. Strong instances of
self-denial operate powerfully on our minds; and a man who has n