spirits; and count the advantages which ye have reason to promise to
yourselves, from acknowledging no other guide of life, but _imperious
fashion_!
2. A graver set of men come next, and tell us, “That _fashion_ is indeed
a very uncertain guide of life: But that LAW, the result of the public
wisdom, armed with the public force, is an adequate rule of human action;
that the legislator’s province is to enact such salutary laws, and the
magistrate’s duty, to carry them into execution, as shall be sufficient
to secure the peace and order of society; And that every other rule of
life is at once unnecessary and ineffectual: _unnecessary_, because the
interests of virtue are amply provided for by the wisdom of law; and
_ineffectual_, because no other principle has force enough to exact
obedience: That, in particular, _the fear of God_ is too remote a
consideration to restrain the tumultuous passions of men, which are held
in subjection by nothing but the instant terrors of civil justice; in a
word, that where the law of the state is duly enforced, there is no need
of other restraints; and that, lastly, to lay a stress on _the religious
principle_ is to weaken the operation of law, as it opens a door to
fanaticism and superstition.”
This plea of the politician receives an apparent force from this certain
truth, That law is indeed of indispensable necessity, and that the
general virtue and happiness of a people cannot be maintained without it.
We join him therefore very cordially in this encomium on civil justice;
but must remind him, withal, that neither is the religious principle
superseded by it, nor can civil justice itself maintain its due course,
without the support of the religious principle: That, when the authority
of law has done its best, there will be much for religion to controul
and regulate; _much_, that is not within the reach of law, and without
its jurisdiction: That _the fear of the Lord_ penetrates deeper and
farther, than the sword of the magistrate; and that, even within his own
province, all his policy and all his power will take a very imperfect
effect, without the concurrence of a higher principle; as he himself
is abundantly convinced from the necessity of fortifying his own most
important constitutions, by the religion of an oath; which is nothing
else but an appeal to the fear of God, under a sense of its being a
needful supplement to the fear of the magistrate.
Yet society, they say, is entirely upheld by the authority of law; at
least, the world may go on very well, by virtue of that only. Yes; It
may go on, as we see it does, full of open violence, which all its
terrors cannot restrain; and of secret frauds, for which it cannot so
much as project a remedy: It may go on, indeed, but polluted by vices of
all sorts, which are not the objects of law, and even by crimes, which
are often too strong for it: It may go on indeed, till the religious
principle be quite effaced from the minds of men (if we may have leave
for a moment, to put so desperate, and, thank God, so impossible a case);
but, when that dreadful time comes, society itself, with all its bulwark
of laws, must inevitably be swept away with it.
Universal history bears testimony to this awful truth; there being no
account of any state on the face of the earth, which could ever support
itself in general virtue, or general happiness, by the mere force of its
civil institutions. And how should it be otherwise, when the fear of God
is requisite to enforce the law, as well as to observe it; to supply the
state with faithful magistrates, as well as with obedient subjects?
If then this vital principle of religion, so necessary to the
conservation of all states, cannot be kept free from some mixture of
fanaticism or superstition, we are surely to endure the inconvenience,
as we can, rather than put the interests of society to hazard by
suspending them all on the weak and false supports of an irreligious
policy.
3. Lastly, the PHILOSOPHER’S plea, though specious at first sight, is of
all others the weakest. For _fashion_, if it chance to be on the side of
virtue, will be punctually followed: And the sword of the _magistrate_
can, in part, at least, enforce obedience. But what coercive power is
there in _philosophy_? It may see and determine right: but who, or
what shall compell this supreme directress of life to observe its own
determinations? “The fitness, it may be said, of those determinations
themselves; the very reason of the thing being the proper restraint of
reasonable natures.” Still the question returns, What if I am disposed
to throw off this restraint? I act against conviction, indeed, and am
self-condemned, which to a liberal mind is no small punishment. But
look into the world, and see if that punishment be sufficient to induce
the bulk of mankind, nay the gross body of philosophers themselves, _to
depart from evil_.
And what, after all, is this magnified reason? One man admits no other
rule of life but _abstract truth_, or what he calls _the differences of
things_: Another, will hear of none, but an instinctive _moral sense_:
And a third, entrenches himself within the narrow circle of _private
happiness_. These several systems have been laid down, each in its turn,
as the only proper basis of moral action: But could the patrons of them
be made to agree in any one; or could their several schemes be made, as
perhaps they might, to consist together: still, they could only serve to
acquaint us what the nature of virtue is; they do but slenderly provide
for the practice of it.
Let the philosophers, then, debate this matter among themselves. It is
enough for _us_ to learn of Solomon, _to fear God_: To fear HIM, who is
everywhere and essentially present; who is conscious to all our actions
and all our thoughts; from whose knowledge there is no escape, from whose
justice there is no appeal, and to whose power there is no hope, or
possibility of resistance.
With this principle, an unquestioned principle of reason, if there be
any, deeply rooted in the mind, we have indeed an adequate rule of life;
or, what is better, a controuling motive to put in practice whatever rule
of life we chuse to follow. Moral systems, taken by themselves, are poor
ineffective things; even virtue’s self is but a name, till the religious
principle be infused into her. Then it is, that she lives and acts, and
by her powerful influence inclines the hearts of men _to depart from
evil_.
Nor let any man apprehend that this religious fear will degrade, or
servilize his virtue. To be free from sin, and only the servants of God,
is the truest and noblest liberty.
Dismissing, then, all other rules of life, let us adhere to that, which
Solomon prescribes to us. It had been venerable from any hands, but
comes with an extraordinary grace and propriety from HIM, who delivers
it. So that none of the parties, concerned in this discourse, can excuse
themselves from paying a peculiar deference to his judgment.
1. The MEN OF THE WORLD can have no pretence for declining this
determination. The author of it is no obscure sordid moralist, whose
views of life are confined to a cloyster or a cottage. He addresses them
from the throne of Israel, when it was the pride of the East; and from
the center of a court, which he had made the envy of the surrounding
nations. The followers of fashion will then act but agreeably to their
own principles, if they respect the example of such a court, and the
authority of its sovereign.
2. The POLITICIANS will reflect, that their instructor is himself a great
magistrate, consummate in the arts of government; who yet could find no
secret, but that of _the fear of God_, by which he could reign securely
himself, or promote the real welfare and prosperity of his people. With
what complacency do they sometimes urge a political aphorism, taken from
Aristotle! _But a greater than_ Aristotle _is here_.
3. Lastly, to you, the sages of the world, who are, or account yourselves
PHILOSOPHERS, nothing can be so respectable to you, as the authority of
ONE, whose name is the name itself of wisdom; of ONE, who, like you,
_had given his heart to know wisdom_[245]; who had an understanding, at
least, equal to yours, and an experience of life, far greater. Yet even
HE delivers it, as the result of all his knowledge, _That by the fear of
the Lord men depart from evil_.
It is indeed this principle only, which gives its proper direction and
integrity to every other. It controuls Fashion; supplies the defects
of Law; and enforces the conclusions of Reason. It rectifies all our
systems, and gives sense and solidity to all our speculations.
To conclude, Let us all be wise enough to reverence the plain doctrine of
the text, and to act upon it: The rather, as that doctrine is not only
just and reasonable in itself, but proceeds from one, whom the Spirit of
God had been pleased to inform with celestial wisdom.
SERMON XLVIII.
PREACHED MAY 31, 1772.
1 COR. vi. 12.
_All things are lawful unto me; but all things are not expedient: All
things are lawful for me; but I will not be brought under the power of
any._
It would be taking up too much of your time, and of this discourse,
to explain minutely the occasion of these words, and the connexion
they have with the general argument of this chapter. Let it suffice
to say, that they are introduced as an answer to something which the
Corinthian Christians did, or might alledge for their neglect of the
instructions, given them by the Apostle. We may conceive them to speak
to this effect—“What you enjoin us so strictly to avoid, is not one of
those practices which can be deemed unlawful: it is not, as we conceive,
condemned by the law of nature, certainly, not by the law of that society
to which we belong. Now in matters of this kind, there is no need of
advice or direction: the things being indifferent in themselves, we may
do as we please, and we are disposed, in the present case, to make use of
our Christian liberty.”
To this plea, or suggestion, the Apostle replies in the text: “Admitting,
says he, the truth of what ye alledge for yourselves, it does not follow
that I may not properly and usefully direct your conduct, in the present
case. For suppose that _all things are lawful to me, all things are not
expedient_: And, again, _though all things are lawful to me, I will not
be brought under the power of any_.”
St. Paul, you see, does not stay to consider whether the things forbidden
to the Corinthians, were _lawful_ or not (though possibly they might
mistake in that assumption, as licentious or thoughtless people, we know,
every day do) but, be this as it may, he insists that he had reason
to lay them under some restraint even in _lawful_ things, because the
practice of such things was inexpedient, in many respects; And because,
if all other considerations might be overlooked, it is enough that an
unrestrained indulgence in them begets slavish habits, and would, in the
end, destroy, or very much impair, their moral freedom.
Of the words, thus far opened, I propose to make this use; to dissuade
you from giving a full scope to the pursuit even of innocent pleasures;
and that, from the two considerations, expressed in the text:
I. That such devotion of ourselves to them is, on many other accounts,
hurtful and improper—_all things are not expedient_: And
II. That, in particular, it violates the dignity of human nature, by
taking from us, or weakening to a great degree, that manly authority of
reason, that virtuous self-command, which we should always retain, and
be in a condition to exert, even in indifferent matters—_I will not be
brought under the power of any_.
1. Wealth and prosperity have a natural tendency to alter, that is, in
the language of moralists, to _corrupt_, the public manners. Hence it
is that the old English habits of plainness, industry, and frugality,
are, now, exchanged for those of indulgence, dissipation, and expence.
All the elegant accommodations of life have an unusual stress laid upon
them; and there seems to be a general effort to advance them all to the
last degree of refinement. The superfluous, which we call the fine arts,
excite an universal admiration, and administer, in ten thousand ways,
to a luxurious, which, again, takes the name of a polite, indulgence.
Hence, society, which used to fill only the vacant intervals of business,
is now become the _business_ of life; and yet is found insipid (so
insatiable is the love of dissipation) if it be not, further, quickened
by amusements. These have multiplied upon us so prodigiously, that they
meet us at every turn, and in every shape; nay, are grown so common, that
they would almost lose the name of amusements, if every possible art were
not employed to give a poignancy to them, and if fashion, after all,
more than the pleasure they afford, did not support the credit of them.
As the last resource of the weary disappointed mind, we have found means
to interest our keenest passions in one species of amusement, which is
therefore called _play_, by way of eminence; and is become the favourite
one, because the most violent: just as the hottest cordials succeed to
the free use of strong liquors.
In this state of things (a very alarming one, in all views) nothing
threatens the utter ruin of the little virtue, that is left among us, so
much, as the general persuasion, that such pursuits may be indulged to
any degree, because they are commonly acknowledged to be _lawful_. Here,
then, the distinction of the Apostle comes in very seasonably, and may,
one would hope, be pressed on the lovers of pleasure, with some effect.
We may question, it seems, the _expediency_ of these pursuits, how
indifferent soever they be in their own nature; and a little reflexion
will shew that they are, indeed, _inexpedient_, that is, unprofitable,
unadvisable, improper, in a great variety of respects.
I do not suppose, at present, that the expence of them is ruinous to
those, who devote themselves to these pleasures (for then they would
plainly not be _lawful_ to such persons); but consider, if you can afford
to pay the price of them ever so well, they take up too much of your
time: abundantly too much, if you have any profession to follow, or to
prepare yourselves for, as most men have; but too much, if you have not,
because it might, and should be employed on better things.
Then, of the little time, they leave to yourselves, they disable you, in
some degree, for making the proper use. For they dissipate the attention;
they relax the nerves of industry and application; they spread a languor
over all the faculties, and make the exertion of them, to any valuable
purpose, painful at least, if not impossible. We hear it generally
observed, that there is a scarcity of able men in all the departments
of life. Can it be otherwise, when the vigour of the mind, which should
nourish all great and laudable efforts, which is so requisite to push the
active powers of invention, or recollection, to their full extent, is
wasted on trifles, is checked by frivolous habits, and left to languish
under them?
Or say, that you have force of mind enough to elude this so natural
effect of dissipation, is it nothing that, by giving your countenance
to it, you draw in weaker spirits to make the dangerous experiment?
that you help to propagate the enfeebling passion through all quarters,
till, from this authorized scene of vanity, the Capital, the contagion
spreads (as we see it now does) to the smaller towns, and even to
private houses, in the remotest provinces? that you contribute to make
respectable I know not what frivolous and worthless arts, and, of course,
to multiply the professors of them, to the great discouragement and decay
of useful industry? that you hurt the interests of society, by giving an
air of importance to the veriest trifles, and by diverting on these the
attention, and the passion, that should regularly, and would otherwise,
exert themselves on nobler objects?
I might push these questions still further. For I remember what history
attests, and what wise men have said, on the chapter of _polite arts and
elegant amusements_.
“They tell us, how sad a sign[246] of the times it is, when they grow
into general repute among us; that from incessantly indulged appetites
(let the object of them be what it will) such an impotence of mind may
follow, such a lust of gratification, such an impatience of controuling
a predominant fancy, as shall overleap all the fences of discretion and
virtue. The dæmon of taste, say they, shall be obeyed, in defiance of
every private and public duty, till distress, disgrace, and infamy break
in upon us; till we seek the relief of our wants in fraud and rapine,
involve the public ruin in our own, and, in the end, rush blindfold,
through an extreme of profligacy, to desperation.”
To this effect, and in this tone, have some inveighed against our more
refined and elegant _amusements_. But I return to what are commonly
known by that name: and with respect to these, allow me to say that the
life of man is a serious thing[247]: so serious, that dissolute, I mean,
untempered, continued mirth, or pleasure, is not of a piece with it[248].
Our virtue, our hopes, nay, our present happiness depends on keeping the
mind in a firm and steady frame. Whatever encroaches on this manliness of
temper, is pernicious, and unchristian.
I will indulge the extreme candour to suppose, that, in a constant round
of _lawful_ amusements, you do not forget, or intermit your moral and
religious duties. But with what spirit are they performed? With disgust,
I doubt; but certainly, with indifference. Nor is this the worst.
Temptations are to be expected in this life: and in what condition are
we to meet them? Nay, we expose ourselves to needless temptation, even
in the midst of these _lawful_ pleasures; and we bring no power with us,
hardly the inclination, to withstand it. The present scene distracts
the mind, and fascinates the senses. And, in this delirium of the whole
man, without God in his thought, or heaven in his eye, what wonder if he
become the sport, and, almost before he is aware, the victim of every
passion!
Still he is not happy in this feverish state: at most, he but forgets
himself, for a moment: and the intervals of his amusement, which, in the
nature of things, must be many and long, are filled with disgust and
languor. Nay, the very amusement wears out by frequent repetition. And
then such a sickliness of mind succeeds, and such a weariness of living
on in a too much used and exhausted world, as is insupportable and fatal
to him[249].
You see then there are many good reasons, which shew the inexpediency of
prosecuting even _lawful_ pleasures with an unrestrained passion. But,
if all others were away, there is ONE consideration still behind, and of
so much weight, that St. Paul scruples not to make a distinct argument
of it, and to press it on the Corinthian Christians, as fully decisive
of the point in question—_All things are lawful for me; but_ I WILL NOT
BE BROUGHT UNDER THE POWER OF ANY—And to unfold this argument is what I
proposed to myself
2. _Under the second head of this discourse._
It should be the ambition of every man to preserve the independency of
his own mind on all his natural or acquired inclinations. The dignity
of his character depends on this supremacy: and his virtue is no longer
secure, than while he retains the power, on all occasions, to exert it.
1. The stoical wise man was exposed to much ridicule by taking to himself
the name and office of a king. The pretensions were high, no doubt, and
the language, something arrogant and ostentatious. But, let the terms, we
employ, be what they will, all philosophy, that deserves the name, must
agree in this, That to have the command of himself, is the duty, and
chief distinction of a wise man[250]. There is, then, a consistency and
harmony in his whole conduct. We naturally respect those who give this
proof of respecting themselves; and we place an entire confidence in the
vigour and uniformity of their character.
Again: though the virtue of self-denial shine out to most advantage in
the conquest of ardent passions and violent temptations, its use is
not inconsiderable in curbing all the lighter fancies. The reason is,
that custom prevails insensibly, and reaches farther than we, at first,
intended. By humouring the mind in trifles, we teach it to presume on its
own importunity, in greater matters: and it will be found a convenient
rule in the management of our passions, as of our children, to refuse a
compliance with them, not merely when they ask improper things, but when
they ask any thing with impatience.
Even our curiosity, an innocent and useful passion, should be kept
within bounds, and not indulged, as we see it is, on every occasion that
presents itself to us.
The continence of Scipio has been much and justly applauded. But he
went a step too far, in seeing his captive. He triumphed, indeed, over
the stronger temptation, but he was not enough on his guard against the
weaker: by complying too easily with a frivolous curiosity, he risked the
honour of that virtue, which a pagan historian finds so divine in ONE,
who was _et juvenis, et cœlebs, et victor_[251].
To apply these reflexions to the case before us. It may seem to be
a matter of great indifference, whether we indulge an inclination
for _lawful_ amusements, or not. But the dignity of our character is
concerned in keeping a strict hand over our inclinations of every sort:
and, if it were only for an exercise of self-government, it would be
worth the while to moderate, that is, frequently to suspend, the use of
a favourite, though innocent gratification. To be enslaved by vicious
habits, is the ignominy of a little mind: to be superior to all, is the
glory of a great one.
2. But, in truth, there is no security in any case, if we let go this
_habit_ of self-government. One compliance inevitably brings on another;
and, though we set out with the design of stopping at a certain point, we
shall almost fatally be carried much farther. We meant to acquiesce in
this, confessedly harmless, indulgence: constant use makes it insipid;
and then we venture on one of a suspicious character. Being now on the
confines of vice, we are easily pushed into that quarter; with some
doubt and hesitation, at first; but scruples give way, as the habit
strengthens, and all vices being connected with each other, especially
all of one sort, we, by degrees, make the trial of all: and thus, from
an innocent fancy, or inclination, indulged too freely, at setting out,
we slip insensibly, and beside our purpose, into manifest, perhaps
universal, dissolution.
So salutary, so divine is the resolution of the Apostle! _All things are
lawful for me: but I will not be brought under the power of any._
To interdict amusements, altogether, to the vivacity of youth, would be
severe and cynical. They are abundantly too numerous, at present, and too
much frequented: but many of them are supposed to be, and some, without
doubt, are, in themselves, _lawful_. Of these, only, I am now speaking:
and even of these it must be affirmed, that the unrestrained use of them
is _not expedient_; as, for the other reasons suggested to you in this
discourse, so chiefly, because it degrades the man, and enslaves him.
To conclude; the safe and manly part is, _to be temperate in all
things_[252]: to make our pleasures, the occasional relaxation[253] of
the mind, and by no means the employment of it: not, perhaps, to affect a
total abstinence from them, which the world would account an incivility;
but resolutely to forbear all vicious, or but suspected pleasures: and,
for the rest, to keep a great deal on this side of what is thought
allowable in the use of them.
SERMON XLIX.
PREACHED JULY 5, 1772.
MATTH. v. 38, 39, 40, 41.
_Ye have heared that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth
for a tooth. But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil_: but _whosoever
shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also_: And,
_if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him
have thy cloke also_: And _whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go
with him twain_.