silence, these arguments, these efforts,--all aid our ministry, and
unite to convince and persuade you. But here is an orator destitute of
these extraneous aids: behold him without any ornament but the truth
he preached. What do I say? that he was destitute of extraneous aids?
See him in a situation quite the reverse,--a captive, loaded with
irons, standing before his judge. Yet he made Felix tremble. Felix
trembled! Whence proceeded this fear, and this confusion? Nothing is
more worthy of your inquiry. Here we must stop for a moment: follow
us while we trace this fear to its source. We shall consider the
character of Felix under different views; as a heathen, imperfectly
acquainted with a future judgment, and the life to come; as a prince,
or governor, accustomed to see every one humble at his feet; as an
avaricious magistrate, loaded with extortions and crimes; in short, as
a voluptuous man, who has never restricted the gratification of his
senses. These are so many reasons of Felix's fears.

First, we shall consider Felix as a heathen, imperfectly acquainted
with a future judgment and the life to come: I say, imperfectly
acquainted, and not as wholly ignorant, the heathens having the "work
of the law written in their hearts" (Rom. ii., 15). The force of habit
had corrupted nature, but had not effaced its laws. They acknowledged
a judgment to come, but their notions were confused concerning its
nature.

Such were the principles of Felix, or rather such were the
imperfections of his principles, when he heard this discourse of St.
Paul. You may infer his fears from his character. Figure to
yourselves a man hearing for the first time the maxims of equity and
righteousness inculcated in the gospel. Figure to yourselves a man who
heard corrected the immorality of pagan theology; what was doubtful,