strength of our feelings even towards the good which we praise and
towards the evil which we condemn. It was an admirable definition of
that which excites laughter, that it was that which is out of rule, that
which is amiss, that which is unsightly, (these three ideas, and other
similar ones, are alike contained in the single Greek word [Greek:
aischron],) provided that it was unaccompanied by pain. This definition
accounts for the otherwise extraordinary fact, that there is something
in moral evil which, in some instances, affects the mind ludicrously.
That is to say, if moral evil affects us with no pain; if we see in it
nothing, so to speak, but its irregularity, its strange contrast with
what is beautiful, its jarring with the harmony of the system around us;
then it does acquire that character which is well defined as being
ridiculous. Thus it is notorious that trifling follies, and even gross
vices, are often so represented in works of fiction as to be
exceedingly ludicrous. It is enough, as an instance of what I mean, to
name the vice of drunkenness. Get rid for the moment of the notions of
vice or sin which, accompany it, and which give moral pain; get rid also
of those points in it which awaken physical disgust; retain merely the
notion of the incoherent language, and the strange capricious gait of
intoxication; and we have then an image merely ridiculous, as much, so
as the rambling talk and absurd gestures of the old buffoons.
Here, then, we have the secret of vice becoming laughable; and of things
which are really wicked, disgusting, hateful, being expressed by names
purely ludicrous. Where no great physical pain or distress is occasioned
by what is evil, our sense of its ludicrousness will be exactly in
proportion to the faintness of our sense of moral evil; or, in other
words, to our want of being in earnest. The evil that does not seriously
pain or inconvenience man, is very apt to be regarded with feelings
approaching to laughter, if we have no sense of pain at the notion of
its being an offence against God.
Thus, then, we have seen how, from the want of being in earnest, from
the habitual slumber of conscience, or that sovereign part of us which
looks upon our whole state with reference to its highest interests, and
passes judgment upon all our actions,--how, from the practical absence
of these, we may get to follow evil persons, and be indifferent to the
good; to admire qualities which, from usurping the place of better ones,
are actually ruinous; and, finally, to regard all common evil not so
much with deep abhorrence, as with a disposition to laugh at it. And
thus the practical judgment and influence of the society around us may
be fatally evil; while the society all the time shall contain, even in
its very perversion, various elements of truth and of good.
I have kept to general language, to general views, perhaps too much; but
all the time my mind has been fixed on the particular application of
this, which lies scarcely beneath the surface, but which I cannot well
bear more fully to unveil. But whoever has attended to what I have been
saying, will be able, I should trust, to make the application, for
himself, to those points in our society which most need correction. He
will be able to understand how it is that the influence of the place is
not better, while it undoubtedly contains so much of good; how the
public opinion of a Christian school may yet be, in many respects, very
unchristian. If he has attended at all to what I have said about our so
rarely being in earnest, he will see something of the mischief of some
of those publications, of those books, of that tone of conversation,
which, I suppose, are here, as elsewhere, in fashion. Utterly impossible
is it to lay down a rule for others in such matters: to say this book is
too light, or this is an excess of light reading, or this laugh was too
unrestrained, or that tone of trifling too perpetual. But, in these
things, we should all judge ourselves; and remember that you are so
little under outward restraint, your choice of reading is so free, your
intercourse with one another so wholly uncontrolled, that, enjoying thus
the full liberty of more advanced years, you incur also their
responsibility. There is, doubtless, an excess of light reading, both in
kind and in quantity; there is such a thing as a tone of conversation
and manner too entirely, and too frequently, trifling. And you must be
quite aware that we are placed here for something else than to indulge
such a temper as this. Cheerfulness and thoughtlessness have no
necessary connexion; the lightest spirits, which are indeed one of the
greatest of earthly blessings, often play around the most earnest
thought and the tenderest affection, and with far more grace than when
they are united with the shallowness and hardness of him who is, in the
sight of God, a fool. It were a strange notion, that we could never be
merry without intoxication, yet not stranger than to think that mirth is
the companion only of folly or of sin. But, setting God in Christ before
us, then the conscience is awake; then we are in earnest; then we
measure things rightly; then we feel them strongly; then we love those
that are good, and shun those that are evil; then we learn that sin is
no matter of laughter, that it ill deserves to be clothed under a
ludicrous name; for that thing which we laugh at, that which we so
miscall, is indeed the cause of infinite evil; for that Christ died; for
that there are some who die that death which lasts for ever.
LECTURE XVIII.
* * * * *
GENESIS xxvii. 38.
_And Esau said unto his father, Hast thou but one blessing, my father?
Bless me, even me also, O my father_.
MATTHEW xv. 27.
_And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall
from their master's table_.
Of these two passages, the first, as we must all remember, is taken from
the first lesson of this morning's service; the second is from the
morning's gospel. Both speak the same language, and point out, I think,
that particular view of the story of Jacob obtaining the blessing which
is most capable of being turned to account; for, as to the conduct of
Jacob and his mother, it is manifestly no more capable of affording us
benefit, as a matter of example, than the conduct, in some respects
similar, of the unjust steward in our Lord's parable. The example,
indeed, is of the same kind as that. If the steward was so anxious about
his future worldly welfare, and Jacob about the worldly welfare of his
descendants, that they did not scruple to obtain their ends, the one by
dishonesty, the other by falsehood, much more should we be anxious about
the true welfare of ourselves and those belonging to us, which no such
unworthy means can be required to gain. But the point of the story to
which the text refers, and which is illustrated also by the words of
the Syrophoenician woman, is one which very directly concerns us all,
being no other than this,--what should be the effect upon our own minds
of witnessing others possessed of greater advantages than ourselves,
whether obtained by the immediate gift of God, through the course of his
ordinary providence, or acquired directly by some unjust or unlawful act
of those who are in possession of them?
Now, it is evident that, as equality is not the rule either of nature or
of human society, there must be many in every congregation who are so
far in the condition of Esau and of the Syrophoenician woman, as to be
inferior to others around them in some one or more advantages. The
inferiority may consist in what are called worldly advantages, or in
natural advantages, or in spiritual advantages, or in some or all of
these united. And it is not to be doubted that the sense of this
inferiority is a hard trial, both as respects our feelings towards God
and towards men. It is a hard trial; but yet, no trial overtakes us but
such as is common to man: and here, as in all other cases, God will,
with the trial, also make a way for us to escape, that we may be able
to bear it.
Let us consider, then, some of the most common cases in which this
inferiority exists amongst us. With regard to worldly advantages, the
peculiar nature of this congregation makes it less necessary than it
generally would be, to dwell upon inequality in these: in fact, speaking
generally, we are a very unusual example of equality in these respects;
the advantages of station and fortune are enjoyed not, literally, in an
equal degree by all of us, but equally as compared with, the lot of the
great mass of society; we all enjoy the necessaries, and most of the
comforts of life. What differences there are would, probably, appear in
instances seemingly trifling, if, indeed, any thing were really
trifling by which the temper and feelings, and through them the
principles, of any amongst us may be affected for good or for evil. It
may possibly happen that, in the indulgences, or means of indulgence,
given to you by your friends at home, there may be sometimes, such a
difference as to excite discontent or jealousy. It may be, that some are
apt to exult over others, by talking of the pleasures, or the liberty,
which they enjoy; and which the friends of others, either from necessity
or from a sense of duty, are obliged to withhold. If this be ever felt
by any of you as a trial; if it gall your pride, as well as restrict
your enjoyments; then remember, that here, even in this seemingly little
thing, the inferiority of which you complain may be either increased
ten-fold, or changed into a blessed superiority. Increased ten-fold,
even as from him that hath not, shall be taken away even that which he
hath, if by discontent, and evil passions towards God and man, you make
yourselves a hundred times more inferior spiritually than you were in
outward circumstances; but changed into a blessed superiority, if it be
borne with meekness, and patience, and thankfulness, even as it was said
of the Gentile centurion, that there had not been found faith equal to
his, no, not in Israel.
But turning from worldly advantages to those which are called natural,
and the inequality here is at once as great as elsewhere. In all
faculties of body and mind; in the vigour of the senses, of the limbs,
of the general constitution; in the greater or less liability to disease
generally, or to any particular form of it; or, again, in powers of
mind, in quickness, in memory, in imagination, in judgment; the
differences between different persons in this congregation must be
exceedingly wide. But, with regard to bodily powers, the trial is little
felt, till the inferiority is shown in actual suffering from pain or
from disease. So long as we are in health, our enjoyments are so many,
and we so easily accommodate our habits to our powers, that a mere
inferiority of strength, whether it be of limb or of constitution, is
not apt to make us dissatisfied. But if it comes to actual illness or to
pain, if we are deprived of the common enjoyments and occupations of our
age, then perhaps the trial begins to be severe; and when we look at
others who have taken the same liberties with their health as we have
done, and see them notwithstanding perfectly well and strong, while we
are disabled or suffering, we may think that God has dealt hardly with
us, and may be inclined to ask with Esau, "Hast thou but one blessing,
my Father? bless me, even me also, O my Father!" Now this language,
according to the sense in which we use it, is either blameable or
innocent. If we mean to say, "Hast thou health to give to others only
and not to me? give me this blessing also, as thou hast given it to my
brethren:" then it has in it somewhat of discontent and murmuring; it
implies a claim to which God never listens. But if we mean, "Hast thou
only one kind of blessing, my father? If thou hast blest others in one
way, I murmur not nor complain: but out of thine infinite store, give me
also such a blessing as may be convenient for me;" then God hears the
prayer, then he gives the blessing, and gives it so richly, and makes it
bear so evidently the mark of his love, that they who were last are
become first; if others have health, and we have sickness, yet the
spirit of patience and cheerful submission which God gives with it is so
great a blessing, and makes us so certainly happy, that the strongest
and healthiest of our friends have often far more reason to wish to
change places with us, than we with them.
Let us now take inequality in powers of mind. And here, undoubtedly, the
difference is apt to be a trial. Not that, probably, it excites
discontent or murmuring against God; nor jealousy against those whose
faculties are better than our own: the trial is of another kind; we are
tempted to make our inferiority an excuse for neglect; because we cannot
do so much nor so easily as others, we do far less than we might do. But
the parable shows us plainly, that if one talent only has been given us,
while others have ten, yet that the one, no less than the ten, must be
made to yield its increase. Here is the feeling expressed so earnestly
by the woman entreating Christ to heal her daughter. "The dogs eat of
the crumbs which fall from their master's table." Small as may be the
portion of power given us, when compared with the plenty vouchsafed to
others, still it is capable of nourishing us if we make use of it; still
it shows that we too have our blessing. And if using it with
thankfulness, if doing our very best with it, knowing that "a man is
accepted according to what he hath, and not according to what he hath
not," we labour humbly and diligently; then, not only does the talent
itself become increased, so that our Lord, when he comes to reckon with
us, may receive his own with usury: but a blessing of another kind is
added to our labours, again, as in the former case, making those who
were last to become first. For if there be one thing on earth which is
truly admirable, it is to see God's wisdom blessing an inferiority of
natural powers, when they have been honestly, humbly, and zealously
cultivated. From how many pains are they delivered, to which great
natural talents are continually exposed; irritation, jealousy, a morbid
and nervous activity, bearing fruits not of peace, but of gall! With
what blessings are they crowned, to which, the most powerful natural
understanding is a stranger! the love of truth gratified, without the
fear that truth will demand the sacrifice of personal vanity; the line
of duty clearly discerned, because those mists of passion and
selfishness which obscure it so often from the view of the keenest
natural perception, have been dispersed by the spirit of humility and
love; imperfect knowledge patiently endured, because whatever knowledge
is enjoyed is known to be God's gift, and what he gives, or what he
withholds, is alike welcome. This is the blessing of those who having
had inferior natural powers, have so laboured to improve them according
to God's will, that on all there has been grafted, as it were, some
better power of grace, to yield a fruit most precious both for earth
and heaven.
But I spoke of an equality of spiritual advantages also, and this is
perhaps the hardest trial of all. Oh, how great is this inequality in
truth, when it seems to be so little! All of you, the children of
Christian parents; all members of the Christian Church; all partaking
here of the same worship, the same prayers, the same word of God, the
same sacrament; are you not all the Israel of God, and not, like Esau,
or the Syrophoenician woman, strangers to the covenant of blessing? Yet
your real condition is, notwithstanding, very unequal. How unlike are
your friends at home; how, unlike, also, are your friends here! Are
there not some to whom their homes, both by direct precept and by
example, are a far greater help than to others? Are there not some,
whose immediate companions here may encourage them in all good far more
than may be the case with, others? So, then, there may be some to whom
this great blessing has been denied, whilst others enjoy it. What then?
Shall we say, that, because we have it not, we will refuse to go in to
our Father's house; that we will not walk as our brother walks, unless
we have his advantages? Then must we remain cast out; vessels fashioned
to dishonour; rejected of God, and cursed. Nay rather let us put a
Christian sense on Esau's prayer, and cry, "'Hast thou but one blessing,
my Father? bless me, even me also, O my Father.' If thou hast given to
others earthly helps, which thou hast denied to me, give me thyself and
thy own Spirit the more! If father and mother forsake my most precious
interest, do thou take me up. If my nearest friends will not walk with
me in the house of God, be thou my friend, and abide with, me always,
making my house as thine. Outward and earthly means thou givest or
takest away at thy pleasure; but give me help according to my need, that
I yet may not lose thee."
How naturally are we interested at the thought of any one so
circumstanced, and uttering such a prayer! How earnestly do we wish to
help him, to show our respect and true love for a faith so tried and so
enduring! And think we that God cares for it less than we do? or have we
not already the record of his love towards it, when Christ answered the
Syrophoenician woman, "O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even
as thou wilt?" He may not, indeed, see fit to give the very same
blessing which was in the first instance denied: we may still have fewer
spiritual advantages than others, as far as human helps are concerned;
fewer good and earnest friends; fewer examples of holiness around us;
fewer to join with us in our prayers and in our struggles against evil.
But though this particular blessing may be denied,--as Esau could not
gain that blessing which had been given to Jacob,--yet there is a
blessing for us also, which may prove, in the end, even better than our
brother's. He who serves God steadily, amidst many disadvantages, enjoys
the blessing of a more confirmed and hardier faith; he has gone through
trials, and been found conqueror; and for him that overcometh is
reserved a more abundant measure of glory.
But on the other side, we who, like Jacob, or Jacob's posterity, have
the blessing,--whether it be natural, worldly, or spiritual,--let us
consider what became of it when it was not improved. What was the sin
of Esau,--speaking not of the individual, but of the less favoured
people of Edom,--compared with the sin of Jacob? Nay, not of Edom only;
but it shall be more tolerable for Sodom, in the day of judgment, than
for the unbelieving cities of Israel. So it is, not only with the
literal, but with the Christian Israel; so it is, not only with the
Church as a whole compared with heathens, but with all those individuals
amongst us, who enjoy in any larger measure than others any of God's
blessings. They are blessings; but they may be made fatal curses. This
holds true with blessings of every kind: with station and wealth, with
bodily health and vigour, with, great powers of mind, with large means
of spiritual improvement. To whom much is given, of him shall be much,
required. It is required of us to enjoy our blessings by using them: so
will they be blessings indeed. So it is with money and influence, with
health, with talents, with spiritual knowledge, and good friends and
parents. There are first who shall be last; that is, those who began
their course with advantages which set them before their brethren, if
they do not exert themselves, will fall grievously behind them: for the
blessing denied may be, in effect, a blessing given; and the blessing
given, in like manner, becomes too often a blessing taken away.
LECTURE XIX.
* * * * *
MATTHEW xxii. 32.
_God is not the God of the dead, but of the living_.
We hear these words as a part of our Lord's answer to the Sadducees;
and, as their question was put in evident profaneness, and the answer to
it is one which to our minds is quite obvious and natural, so we are apt
to think that in this particular story there is less than usual that
particularly concerns us. But it so happens, that our Lord, in answering
the Sadducees, has brought in one of the most universal and most solemn
of all truths,--which is indeed implied in many parts of the Old
Testament, but which the Gospel has revealed to us in all its
fulness,--the truth contained in the words of the text, that "God is not
the God of the dead, but of the living."
I would wish to unfold a little what is contained in these words, which
we often hear even, perhaps, without quite understanding them; and many
times oftener without fully entering into them. And we may take them,
first, in their first part, where they say that "God is not the God of
the dead."
The word "dead," we know, is constantly used in Scripture in a double
sense, as meaning those who are dead spiritually, as well as those who
are dead naturally. And, in either sense, the words are alike
applicable: "God is not the God of the dead."
God's not being the God of the dead signifies two things: that they who
are without him are dead, as well as that they who are dead are also
without him. So far as our knowledge goes respecting inferior animals,
they appear to be examples of this truth. They appear to us to have no
knowledge of God; and we are not told that they have any other life than
the short one of which our senses inform us. I am well aware that our
ignorance of their condition is so great that, we may not dare to say
anything of them positively; there may be a hundred things true
respecting them which we neither know nor imagine. I would only say
that, according to that most imperfect light in which we see them, the
two points of which I have been speaking appear to meet in them: we
believe that they have no consciousness of God, and we believe that they
will die. And so far, therefore, they afford an example of the
agreement, if I may so speak, between these two points; and were
intended, perhaps, to be to our view a continual image of it. But we had
far better speak of ourselves. And here, too, it is the case that "God
is not the God of the dead." If we are without him we are dead; and if
we are dead we are without him: in other words, the two ideas of death
and absence from God are in fact synonymous.