Do you acknowledge that the power of looking into futurity, and ſeeing things that are not, as if they were, is an attribute of the Creator? And ſhould he, by an impreſſion on the minds of his creatures, think fit to impart to them ſome event hid in the ſhades of time yet unborn, to whom would the ſecret be revealed by immediate inſpiration? The opinion of ages will anſwer this queſtion—to reverend old men, to people diſtinguiſhed for eminent piety.
The oracles of old were thus delivered by prieſts dedicated to the ſervice of the God who was ſuppoſed to inſpire them. The glare of worldly pomp which ſurrounded theſe impoſtors, and the reſpect paid to them by artful politicians, who knew how to avail themſelves of this uſeful engine to bend the necks of the ſtrong under the dominion of the cunning, ſpread a ſacred myſterious veil of ſanctity over their lies and abominations. Impreſſed by ſuch ſolemn devotional parade, a Greek, or Roman lady might be excuſed, if ſhe enquired of the oracle, when ſhe was anxious to pry into futurity, or enquire about ſome dubious event: and her enquiries, however contrary to reaſon, could not be reckoned impious.—But, can the profeſſors of Chriſtianity ward off that imputation? Can a Chriſtian ſuppoſe that the favourites of the moſt High, the highly favoured, would be obliged to lurk in diſguiſe, and practiſe the moſt diſhoneſt tricks to cheat ſilly women out of the money—which the poor cry for in vain?
Say not that ſuch queſtions are an inſult to common ſenſe—for it is your own conduct, O ye
