two enemies, the Papists and fanatics, who, each in their turns, filled
it with blood and slaughter, and, for a time, destroyed both the Church
and government. The memory of these events hath put all true Protestants
equally upon their guard against both these adversaries, who, by
consequence, do equally hate us. The fanatics revile us, as too nearly
approaching to Popery; and the Papists condemn us, as bordering too much
on fanaticism. The Papists, God be praised, are, by the wisdom of our
laws, put out of all visible possibility of hurting us; besides, their
religion is so generally abhorred, that they have no advocates or
abettors among Protestants to assist them. But the fanatics are to be
considered in another light; they have had of late years the power, the
luck, or the cunning, to divide us among ourselves; they have
endeavoured to represent all those who have been so bold as to oppose
their errors and designs, under the character of persons disaffected to
the government; and they have so far succeeded, that, now-a-days, if a
clergyman happens to preach with any zeal and vehemence against the sin
and danger of schism, there will not want too many, in his congregation,
ready enough to censure him as hot and high-flying, an inflamer of men's
minds, an enemy to moderation, and disloyal to his prince. This hath
produced a formed and settled division between those who profess the
same doctrine and discipline; while they who call themselves moderate
are forced to widen their bottom, by sacrificing their principles and
their brethren to the encroachments and insolence of dissenters, who are
therefore answerable, as a principal cause of all that hatred and
animosity now reigning among us.
Another cause of the great want of brotherly love is the weakness and
folly of too many among you of the lower sort, who are made the tools
and instruments of your betters to work their designs, wherein you have
no concern. Your numbers make you of use, and cunning men take the
advantage, by putting words into your mouths, which you do not
understand; then they fix good or ill characters to those words, as it
best serves their purposes: And thus you are taught to love or hate, you
know not what or why; you often suspect your best friends, and nearest
neighbours, even your teacher himself, without any reason, if your
leaders once taught you to call him by a name, which they tell you
signifieth some very bad thing.
A third cause of our great want of brotherly love seemeth to be, that
this duty is not so often insisted on from the pulpit, as it ought to be
in such times as these; on the contrary, it is to be doubted, whether
doctrines are not sometimes delivered by an ungoverned zeal, a desire to
be distinguished, or a view of interest, which produce quite different
effects; when, upon occasions set apart to return thanks to God for some
public blessing, the time is employed in stirring up one part of the
congregation against the other, by representations of things and
persons, which God, in his mercy, forgive those who are guilty of.
The last cause I shall mention of the want of brotherly love is, that
unhappy disposition towards politics among the trading people, which has
been industriously instilled into them. In former times, the middle and
lower sorts of mankind seldom gained or lost by the factions of the
kingdom, and therefore were little concerned in them, further than as
matter of talk and amusement; but now the meanest dealer will expect to
turn the penny by the merits of his party. He can represent his
neighbour as a man of dangerous principles, can bring a railing
accusation against him, perhaps a criminal one, and so rob him of his
livelihood, and find his own account by that much more than if he had
disparaged his neighbour's goods, or defamed him as a cheat. For so it
happens, that, instead of enquiring into the skill or honesty of those
kind of people, the manner is now to enquire into their party, and to
reject or encourage them accordingly; which proceeding hath made our
people, in general, such able politicians, that all the artifice,
flattery, dissimulation, diligence, and dexterity, in undermining each
other, which the satirical wit of men hath charged upon courts; together
with all the rage and violence, cruelty and injustice, which have been
ever imputed to public assemblies; are with us (so polite are we grown)
to be seen among our meanest traders and artificers in the greatest
perfection. All which, as it may be matter of some humiliation to the
wise and mighty of this world, so the effects thereof may, perhaps, in
time, prove very different from what, I hope in charity, were ever
foreseen or intended.
II. I will therefore now, in the second place, lay open some of the sad
effects and consequences which our animosities and mutual hatred have
produced.
And the first ill consequence is, that our want of brotherly love hath
almost driven out all sense of religion from among us, which cannot well
be otherwise; for since our Saviour laid so much weight upon his
disciples loving one another, that he gave it among his last
instructions; and since the primitive Christians are allowed to have
chiefly propagated the faith by their strict observance of that
instruction, it must follow that, in proportion as brotherly love
declineth, Christianity will do so too. The little religion there is in
the world, hath been observed to reside chiefly among the middle and
lower sorts of people, who are neither tempted to pride nor luxury by
great riches, nor to desperate courses by extreme poverty: And truly I,
upon that account, have thought it a happiness, that those who are under
my immediate care are generally of that condition; but where party hath
once made entrance, with all its consequences of hatred, envy,
partiality, and virulence, religion cannot long keep its hold in any
state or degree of life whatsoever. For, if the great men of the world
have been censured in all ages for mingling too little religion with
their politics, what a havoc of principles must they needs make in
unlearned and irregular heads; of which indeed the effects are already
too visible and melancholy all over the kingdom!
Another ill consequence from our want of brotherly love is, that it
increaseth the insolence of the fanatics; and this partly ariseth from a
mistaken meaning of the word moderation; a word which hath been much
abused, and bandied about for several years past. There are too many
people indifferent enough to all religion; there are many others, who
dislike the clergy, and would have them live in poverty and dependence;
both these sorts are much commended by the fanatics for moderate men,
ready to put an end to our divisions, and to make a general union among
Protestants. Many ignorant well-meaning people are deceived by these
appearances, strengthened with great pretences to loyalty: and these
occasions the fanatics lay hold on, to revile the doctrine and
discipline of the Church, and even insult and oppress the clergy
wherever their numbers or favourers will bear them out; insomuch, that
one wilful refractory fanatic hath been able to disturb a whole parish
for many years together. But the most moderate and favoured divines dare
not own, that the word moderation, with respect to the dissenters, can
be at all applied to their religion, but is purely personal or
prudential. No good man repineth at the liberty of conscience they
enjoy; and, perhaps a very moderate divine may think better of their
loyalty than others do; or, to speak after the manner of men, may think
it necessary, that all Protestants should be united against the common
enemy; or out of discretion, or other reasons best known to himself, be
tender of mentioning them at all. But still the errors of the dissenters
are all fixed and determined, and must, upon demand, be acknowledged by
all the divines of our church, whether they be called, in party phrase,
high or low, moderate or violent. And further, I believe it would be
hard to find many moderate divines, who, if their opinion were asked
whether dissenters should be trusted with power, could, according to
their consciences, answer in the affirmative; from whence it is plain,
that all the stir which the fanatics have made with this word
moderation, was only meant to increase our divisions, and widen them so
far as to make room for themselves to get in between. And this is the
only scheme they ever had (except that of destroying root and branch)
for the uniting of Protestants, they so much talk of.
I shall mention but one ill consequence more, which attends our want of
brotherly love; that it hath put an end to all hospitality and
friendship, all good correspondence and commerce between mankind. There
are indeed such things as leagues and confederacies among those of the
same party; but surely God never intended that men should be so limited
in the choice of their friends: However, so it is in town and country,
in every parish and street; the pastor is divided from his flock, the
father from his son, and the house often divided against itself. Men's
very natures are soured, and their passions inflamed, when they meet in
party clubs, and spend their time in nothing else but railing at the
opposite side; thus every man alive among us is encompassed with a
million of enemies of his own country, among which his oldest
acquaintance and friends, and kindred themselves, are often of the
number; neither can people of different parties mix together without
constraint, suspicion, or jealousy, watching every word they speak, for
fear of giving offence, or else falling into rudeness and reproaches,
and so leaving themselves open to the malice and corruption of
informers, who were never more numerous or expert in their trade. And as
a further addition to this evil, those very few, who, by the goodness
and generosity of their nature, do in their own hearts despise this
narrow principle of confining their friendship and esteem, their charity
and good offices, to those of their own party, yet dare not discover
their good inclinations, for fear of losing their favour and interest.
And others again, whom God had formed with mild and gentle dispositions,
think it necessary to put a force upon their own tempers, by acting a
noisy, violent, malicious part, as a means to be distinguished. Thus hath
party got the better of the very genius and constitution of our people;
so that whoever reads the character of the English in former ages, will
hardly believe their present posterity to be of the same nation or
climate.
III. I shall now, in the last place, make use of some motives and
exhortations, that may persuade you to embrace brotherly love, and
continue in it. Let me apply myself to you of the lower sort, and desire
you will consider, when any of you make use of fair and enticing words
to draw in customers, whether you do it for their sakes or your own. And
then, for whose sakes do you think it is, that your leaders are so
industrious to put into your heads all that party rage and virulence? Is
it not to make you the tools and instruments, by which they work out
their own designs? Has this spirit of faction been useful to any of you
in your worldly concerns, except to those who have traded in whispering,
backbiting, or informing, and wanted skill or honesty to thrive by
fairer methods? It is no business of yours to inquire, who is at the
head of armies, or of councils, unless you had power and skill to
choose, neither of which is ever likely to be your case; and therefore
to fill your heads with fears, and hatred of persons and things, of
which it is impossible you can ever make a right judgment, or to set you
at variance with your neighbour, because his thoughts are not the same
as yours, is not only in a very gross manner to cheat you of your time
and quiet, but likewise to endanger your souls.
_Secondly_: In order to restore brotherly love, let me earnestly exhort
you to stand firm in your religion; I mean, the true religion hitherto
established among us, without varying in the least either to Popery on
the one side, or to fanaticism on the other; and in a particular manner
beware of that word, moderation; and believe it, that your neighbour is
not immediately a villain, a Papist, and a traitor, because the fanatics
and their adherents will not allow him to be a moderate man.
Nay, it is very probable, that your teacher himself may be a loyal,
pious, and able divine, without the least grain of moderation, as the
word is too frequently understood. Therefore, to set you right in this
matter, I will lay before you the character of a truly moderate man, and
then I will give you the description of such a one as falsely pretendeth
to that title.
A man truly moderate is steady in the doctrine and discipline of the
Church, but with a due Christian charity to all who dissent from it out
of a principle of conscience; the freedom of which, he thinketh, ought
to be fully allowed, as long as it is not abused, but never trusted with
power. He is ready to defend with his life and fortune the Protestant
succession, and the Protestant established faith, against all invaders
whatsoever. He is for giving the Crown its just prerogative, and the
people their just liberties. He hateth no man for differing from him in
political opinions; nor doth he think it a maxim infallible, that virtue
should always attend upon favour, and vice upon disgrace. These are some
few lineaments in the character of a truly moderate man; let us now
compare it with the description of one who usually passeth under that
title.
A moderate man, in the new meaning of the word, is one to whom all
religion is indifferent; who although he denominates himself of the
Church, regardeth it no more than a conventicle. He perpetually raileth
at the body of the clergy, with exceptions only to a very few, who, he
hopeth, and probably upon false grounds, are as ready to betray their
rights and properties as himself. He thinketh the power of the people
can never be too great, nor that of the prince too little; and yet this
very notion he publisheth, as his best argument, to prove him a most
loyal subject. Every opinion in government, that differeth in the least
from his, tendeth directly to Popery, slavery, and rebellion. Whoever
lieth under the frown of power, can, in his judgment, neither have
common sense, common honesty, nor religion. Lastly, his devotion
consisteth in drinking gibbets, confusion, and damnation[1]; in
profanely idolizing the memory of one dead prince,[2] and ungratefully
trampling upon the ashes of another.[3]
[Footnote 1: The subject of these political toasts was the theme of much
discussion in Ireland. [S.]]
[Footnote 2: King William.]
[Footnote 3: Queen Anne.]
By these marks you will easily distinguish a truly moderate man from
those who are commonly, but very falsely, so called; and while persons
thus qualified are so numerous and so noisy, so full of zeal and
industry to gain proselytes, and spread their opinions among the people,
it cannot be wondered at that there should be so little brotherly love
left among us.
_Lastly_: It would probably contribute to restore some degree of
brotherly love, if we would but consider, that the matter of those
disputes, which inflame us to this degree, doth not, in its own nature,
at all concern the generality of mankind. Indeed as to those who have
been great gainers or losers by the changes of the world, the case is
different; and to preach moderation to the first, and patience to the
last, would perhaps be to little purpose: But what is that to the bulk
of the people, who are not properly concerned in the quarrel, although
evil instruments have drawn them into it? For, if the reasonable men on
both sides were to confer opinions, they would find neither religion,
loyalty, nor interest, are at all affected in this dispute. Not
religion, because the members of the Church, on both sides, profess to
agree in every article: Not loyalty to our prince, which is pretended to
by one party as much as the other, and therefore can be no subject for
debate: Not interest, for trade and industry lie open to all; and, what
is further, concerns only those who have expectations from the public:
So that the body of the people, if they knew their own good, might yet
live amicably together, and leave their betters to quarrel among
themselves, who might also probably soon come to a better temper, if
they were less seconded and supported by the poor deluded multitude.
I have now done with my text, which I confess to have treated in a
manner more suited to the present times, than to the nature of the
subject in general. That I have not been more particular in explaining
the several parts and properties of this great duty of brotherly love,
the apostle to the Thessalonians will plead my excuse.--"Touching
brotherly love" (saith he) "ye need not that I write unto you, for ye
yourselves are taught of God to love one another[4]." So that nothing
remains to add, but our prayers to God, that he would please to restore
and continue this duty of brotherly love or charity among us, the very
bond of peace and of all virtues.
[Footnote 4: 1 Thess. iv. 9.]
_Nov._ 29, 1717.
THE DIFFICULTY OF KNOWING ONE'S-SELF.[1]
[Footnote 1: Prefixed to the issue in volume ten, "Miscellanies," 1745,
is the following:
"ADVERTISEMENT.
"The manuscript title page of the following sermon being lost, and no
memorandum writ upon it, as there were upon the others, when and where
it was preached, made the editor doubtful whether he should print it as
the Dean's, or not. But its being found amongst the same papers; and the
hand, though writ somewhat better, bearing a great similitude to the
Dean's, made him willing to lay it before the public, that they might
judge whether the style and manner also does not render it still more
probable to be his." [T.S.]]
2 KINGS, VIII. PART OF THE 13TH VERSE.
"And Hazael said, But what, is thy servant a dog, that he should do this
great thing?"
We have a very singular instance of the deceitfulness of the heart,
represented to us in the person of Hazael; who was sent to the prophet
Elisha, to enquire of the Lord concerning his master the King of Syria's
recovery. For the man of God, having told him that the king might
recover from the disorder he was then labouring under, begun to set and
fasten his countenance upon him of a sudden, and to break out into the
most violent expressions of sorrow, and a deep concern for it;
whereupon, when Hazael, full of shame and confusion, asked, "Why weepeth
my lord?" he answered, "Because I know all the evil that thou wilt do
unto the children of Israel; their strongholds wilt thou set on fire,
and their young men wilt thou slay with the sword, and wilt dash their
children, and rip up their women with child." Thus much did the man of
God say and know of him, by a light darted into his mind from heaven.
But Hazael not knowing himself so well as the other did, was startled
and amazed at the relation, and would not believe it possible that a man
of his temper could ever run out into such enormous instances of cruelty
and inhumanity. "What!" says he, "is thy servant a dog, that he should
do this great thing?"
And yet, for all this, it is highly probable that he was then that man
he could not imagine himself to be; for we find him, on the very next
day after his return, in a very treacherous and disloyal manner
murdering his own master, and usurping his kingdom; which was but a
prologue to the sad tragedy which he afterwards acted upon the people of
Israel.
And now the case is but very little better with most men, than it was
with Hazael; however it comes to pass, they are wonderfully unacquainted
with their own temper and disposition, and know very little of what
passes within them: For of so many proud, ambitious, revengeful,
envying, and ill-natured persons, that are in the world, where is there
one of them, who, although he has all the symptoms of the vice appearing
upon every occasion, can look with such an impartial eye upon himself,
as to believe that the imputation thrown upon him is not altogether
groundless and unfair? Who, if he were told by men of a discerning
spirit and a strong conjecture, of all the evil and absurd things which
that false heart of his would at one time or other betray him into,
would not believe as little, and wonder as much, as Hazael did before
him? Thus, for instance; tell an angry person that he is weak and
impotent, and of no consistency of mind; tell him, that such or such a
little accident, which he may then despise and think much below a
passion, shall hereafter make him say and do several absurd, indiscreet,
and misbecoming things: He may perhaps own that he has a spirit of
resentment within him, that will not let him be imposed on, but he
fondly imagines that he can lay a becoming restraint upon it when he
pleases, although 'tis ever running away with him into some indecency or
other.
Therefore, to bring the words of my text to our present occasion, I
shall endeavour, in a further prosecution of them, to evince the great
necessity of a nice and curious inspection into the several recesses of
the heart, being the surest and the shortest method that a wicked man
can take to reform himself: For let us but stop the fountain, and the
streams will spend and waste themselves away in a very little time; but
if we go about, like children, to raise a bank, and to stop the current,
not taking notice all the while of the spring which continually feeds
it, when the next flood of temptation rises, and breaks in upon it, then
we shall find that we have begun at the wrong end of our duty, and that
we are very little more the better for it, than if we had sat still, and
made no advances at all.
But, in order to a clearer explanation of the point, I shall speak to
these following particulars:--
_First_: By endeavouring to prove, from particular instances, that man
is generally the most ignorant creature in the world of himself.
_Secondly_: By inquiring into the grounds and reasons of his ignorance.
_Thirdly_ and _Lastly_: By proposing several advantages that do most
assuredly attend a due improvement in the knowledge of ourselves.
_First_, then: To prove that man is generally the most ignorant creature
in the world, of himself.
To pursue the heart of man through all the instances of life, in all its
several windings and turnings, and under that infinite variety of shapes
and appearances which it puts on, would be a difficult and almost
impossible undertaking; so that I shall confine myself to such as have a
nearer reference to the present occasion, and do, upon a closer view,
shew themselves through the whole business of repentance. For we all
know what it is to repent, but whether he repents him truly of his sins
or not, who can know it?
Now the great duty of repentance is chiefly made up of these two parts,
a hearty sorrow for the follies and miscarriages of the time past, and a
full purpose and resolution of amendment for the time to come. And now,
to shew the falseness of the heart in both these parts of repentance,
And
_First_: As to a hearty sorrow for the sins and miscarriages of the time
past. Is there a more usual thing than for a man to impose upon himself,
by putting on a grave and demure countenance, by casting a severe look
into his past conduct, and making some few pious and devout reflections
upon it, and then to believe that he has repented to an excellent
purpose, without ever letting it step forth into practice, and shew
itself in a holy conversation? Nay, some persons do carry the deceit a
little higher; who if they can but bring themselves to weep for their
sins, they are then full of an ill-grounded confidence and security;
never considering that all this may prove to be no more than the very
garb and outward dress of a contrite heart, which another heart, as hard
as the nether millstone, may as well put on. For tears and sighs,
however in some persons they may be decent and commendable expressions
of a godly sorrow, are neither necessary, nor infallible signs of a true
and unfeigned repentance. Not necessary, because sometimes, and in some
persons, the inward grief and anguish of the mind may be too big to be
expressed by so little a thing as a tear, and then it turneth its edge
inward upon the mind; and like those wounds of the body which bleed
inwardly, generally proves the most fatal and dangerous to the whole
body of sin: Not infallible, because a very small portion of sorrow may
make some tender dispositions melt, and break out into tears; or a man
may perhaps weep at parting with his sins, as he would bid the last
farewell to an old friend.
But there is still a more pleasant cheat in this affair, that when we
find a deadness, and a strange kind of unaptness and indisposition to
all impressions of religion, and that we cannot be as truly sorry for
our sins as we should be, we then pretend to be sorry that we are not
more sorry for them; which is not more absurd and irrational, than that
a man should pretend to be very angry at a thing, because he did not
know how to be angry at all.