some suitable reward proportioned to the better part of man, his mind,
as an encouragement for his progress in virtue. The difficulties they
met with upon the score of this default were great, and not to be
accounted for: Bodily goods, being only suitable to bodily wants, are no
rest at all for the mind; and, if they were, yet are they not the proper
fruits of wisdom and virtue, being equally attainable by the ignorant
and wicked. Now, human nature is so constituted, that we can never
pursue anything heartily but upon hopes of a reward. If we run a race,
it is in expectation of a prize, and the greater the prize the faster we
run; for an incorruptible crown, if we understand it and believe it to
be such, more than a corruptible one. But some of the philosophers gave
all this quite another turn, and pretended to refine so far, as to call
virtue its own reward, and worthy to be followed only for itself:
Whereas, if there be anything in this more than the sound of the words,
it is at least too abstracted to become a universal influencing
principle in the world, and therefore could not be of general use.
It was the want of assigning some happiness, proportioned to the soul of
man, that caused many of them, either, on the one hand, to be sour and
morose, supercilious and untreatable; or, on the other, to fall into the
vulgar pursuits of common men, to hunt after greatness and riches, to
make their court, and to serve occasions; as Plato did to the younger
Dionysius, and Aristotle to Alexander the Great. So impossible is it for
a man, who looks no further than the present world, to fix himself long
in a contemplation where the present world has no part: He has no sure
hold, no firm footing; he can never expect to remove the earth he rests
upon, while he has no support beside for his feet, but wants, like
Archimedes, some other place whereon to stand. To talk of bearing pain
and grief, without any sort of present or future hope, cannot be purely
greatness of spirit; there must be a mixture in it of affectation, and
an alloy of pride, or perhaps is wholly counterfeit.
It is true there has been all along in the world a notion of rewards and
punishments in another life; but it seems to have rather served as an
entertainment to poets, or as a terror of children, than a settled
principle, by which men pretended to govern any of their actions. The
last celebrated words of Socrates, a little before his death, do not
seem to reckon or build much upon any such opinion; and Cæsar made no
scruple to disown it, and ridicule it in open senate.
_Thirdly_, The greatest and wisest of all their philosophers were never
able to give any satisfaction, to others and themselves, in their
notions of a Deity. They were often extremely gross and absurd in their
conceptions; and those who made the fairest conjectures are such as were
generally allowed by the learned to have seen the system of Moses, if I
may so call it, who was in great reputation at that time in the heathen
world, as we find by Diodonis, Justin, Longinus, and other authors; for
the rest, the wisest among them laid aside all notions after a Deity, as
a disquisition vain and fruitless, which indeed it was, upon unrevealed
principles; and those who ventured to engage too far fell into
incoherence and confusion.
_Fourthly_, Those among them who had the justest conceptions of a Divine
Power, and did also admit a Providence, had no notion at all of entirely
relying and depending upon either; they trusted in themselves for all
things: But, as for a trust or dependence upon God, they would not have
understood the phrase; it made no part of the profane style.
Therefore it was, that, in all issues and events, which they could not
reconcile to their own sentiments of reason and justice, they were quite
disconcerted: They had no retreat; but, upon every blow of adverse
fortune, either affected to be indifferent, or grew sullen and severe,
or else yielded and sunk like other men.
Having now produced certain points, wherein the wisdom and virtue of all
unrevealed philosophy fell short, and was very imperfect; I go on, in
the second place, to shew in several instances, where some of the most
renowned philosophers have been grossly defective in their lessons of
morality.
Thales, the founder of the Ionic sect, so celebrated for morality, being
asked how a man might bear ill-fortune with greatest ease, answered, "By
seeing his enemies in a worse condition." An answer truly barbarous,
unworthy of human nature, and which included such consequences as must
destroy all society from the world.
Solon, lamenting the death of a son, one told him, "You lament in vain:"
"Therefore" (said he) "I lament, because it is in vain." This was a
plain confession how imperfect all his philosophy was, and that
something was still wanting. He owned that all his wisdom and morals
were useless, and this upon one of the most frequent accidents in life.
How much better could he have learned to support himself even from
David, by his entire dependence upon God; and that before our Saviour
had advanced the notions of religion to the height and perfection
wherewith He hath instructed His disciples? Plato himself, with all his
refinements, placed happiness in wisdom, health, good fortune, honour,
and riches; and held that they who enjoyed all these were perfectly
happy: Which opinion was indeed unworthy its owner, leaving the wise and
the good man wholly at the mercy of uncertain chance, and to be
miserable without resource.
His scholar, Aristotle, fell more grossly into the same notion; and
plainly affirmed, "That virtue, without the goods of fortune, was not
sufficient for happiness, but that a wise man must be miserable in
poverty and sickness." Nay, Diogenes himself, from whose pride and
singularity one would have looked for other notions, delivered it as his
opinion, "That a poor old man was the most miserable thing in life."
Zeno also and his followers fell into many absurdities, among which
nothing could be greater than that of maintaining all crimes to be
equal, which, instead of making vice hateful, rendered it as a thing
indifferent and familiar to all men.
_Lastly_: Epicurus had no notion of justice but as it was profitable;
and his placing happiness in pleasure, with all the advantages he could
expound it by, was liable to very great exception: For, although he
taught that pleasure did consist in virtue, yet he did not any way fix
or ascertain the boundaries of virtue, as he ought to have done; by
which means he misled his followers into the greatest vices, making
their names to become odious and scandalous, even in the heathen world.
I have produced these few instances from a great many others, to shew
the imperfection of heathen philosophy, wherein I have confined myself
wholly to their morality. And surely we may pronounce upon it in the
words of St James, that "This wisdom descended not from above, but was
earthly and sensual." What if I had produced their absurd notions about
God and the soul? It would then have completed the character given it by
that apostle, and appeared to have been devilish too. But it is easy to
observe, from the nature of these few particulars, that their defects in
morals were purely the flagging and fainting of the mind, for want of a
support by revelation from God.
I proceed therefore, in the third place, to shew the perfection of
Christian wisdom from above, and I shall endeavour to make it appear
from those proper characters and marks of it by the apostle before
mentioned, in the third chapter, and 15th, 16th, and 17th verses.
The words run thus:
"This wisdom descendeth not from above, but is earthly, sensual,
devilish.
"For where envying and strife is, there is confusion, and every evil
work.
"But the wisdom that is from above, is first pure, then peaceable,
gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without
partiality, and without hypocrisy."
"The wisdom from above is first pure." This purity of the mind and
spirit is peculiar to the Gospel. Our Saviour says, "Blessed are the
pure in heart, for they shall see God." A mind free from all pollution
of lusts shall have a daily vision of God, whereof unrevealed religion
can form no notion. This it is which keeps us unspotted from the world;
and hereby many have been prevailed upon to live in the practice of all
purity, holiness, and righteousness, far beyond the examples of the most
celebrated philosophers.
It is "peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated." The Christian
doctrine teacheth us all those dispositions that make us affable and
courteous, gentle and kind, without any morose leaven of pride or
vanity, which entered into the composition of most heathen schemes: So
we are taught to be meek and lowly. Our Saviour's last legacy was peace;
and He commands us to forgive our offending brother unto seventy times
seven. Christian wisdom is full of mercy and good works, teaching the
height of all moral virtues, of which the heathens fall infinitely
short. Plato indeed (and it is worth observing) has somewhere a
dialogue, or part of one, about forgiving our enemies, which was perhaps
the highest strain ever reached by man, without divine assistance; yet
how little is that to what our Saviour commands us? "To love them that
hate us; to bless them that curse us; and do good to them that
despitefully use us."
Christian wisdom is "without partiality;" it is not calculated for this
or that nation of people, but the whole race of mankind: Not so the
philosophical schemes, which were narrow and confined, adapted to their
peculiar towns, governments, or sects; but, "in every nation, he that
feareth God and worketh righteousness, is accepted with Him."
_Lastly_: It is "without hypocrisy:" It appears to be what it really is;
it is all of a piece. By the doctrines of the Gospel we are so far from
being allowed to publish to the world those virtues we have not, that we
are commanded to hide, even from ourselves, those we really have, and
not to let our right hand know what our left hand does; unlike several
branches of the heathen wisdom, which pretended to teach insensibility
and indifference, magnanimity and contempt of life, while, at the same
time, in other parts it belied its own doctrines.
I come now, in the last place, to shew that the great examples of wisdom
and virtue, among the Grecian sages, were produced by personal merit,
and not influenced by the doctrine of any particular sect; whereas, in
Christianity, it is quite the contrary.
The two virtues most celebrated by ancient moralists were Fortitude and
Temperance, as relating to the government of man in his private
capacity, to which their schemes were generally addressed and confined;
and the two instances, wherein those virtues arrived at the greatest
height, were Socrates and Cato. But neither those, nor any other virtues
possessed by these two, were at all owing to any lessons or doctrines of
a sect. For Socrates himself was of none at all; and although Cato was
called a Stoic, it was more from a resemblance of manners in his worst
qualities, than that he avowed himself one of their disciples. The same
may be affirmed of many other great men of antiquity. From whence I
infer, that those who were renowned for virtue among them, were more
obliged to the good natural dispositions of their own minds, than to the
doctrines of any sect they pretended to follow.
On the other side, As the examples of fortitude and patience, among the
primitive Christians, have been infinitely greater and more numerous, so
they were altogether the product of their principles and doctrine; and
were such as the same persons, without those aids, would never have
arrived to. Of this truth most of the apostles, with many thousand
martyrs, are a cloud of witnesses beyond exception. Having therefore
spoken so largely upon the former heads, I shall dwell no longer upon
this.
And, if it should here be objected, Why does not Christianity still
produce the same effects? it is easy to answer, First, That although the
number of pretended Christians be great, yet that of true believers, in
proportion to the other, was never so small; and it is a true lively
faith alone, that by the assistance of God's grace, can influence our
practice.
_Secondly_, we may answer, That Christianity itself has very much
suffered by being blended up with Gentile philosophy. The Platonic
system, first taken into religion, was thought to have given matter for
some early heresies in the Church. When disputes began to arise, the
Peripatetic forms were introduced by Scotus, as best fitted for
controversy. And, however this may now have become necessary, it was
surely the author of a litigious vein, which has since occasioned very
pernicious consequences, stopped the progress of Christianity, and been
a great promoter of vice, verifying that sentence given by St James, and
mentioned before, "Where envying and strife is, there is confusion, and
every evil work." This was the fatal stop to the Grecians, in their
progress both of arts and arms: Their wise men were divided under
several sects, and their governments under several commonwealths, all in
opposition to each other; which engaged them in eternal quarrels among
themselves, while they should have been armed against the common enemy.
And I wish we had no other examples from the like causes, less foreign
or ancient than that. Diogenes said Socrates was a madman; the disciples
of Zeno and Epicurus, nay of Plato and Aristotle, were engaged in fierce
disputes about the most insignificant trifles. And, if this be the
present language and practice among us Christians, no wonder that
Christianity does not still produce the same effects which it did at
first, when it was received and embraced in its utmost purity and
perfection. For such a wisdom as this cannot "descend from above," but
must be "earthly, sensual, devilish; full of confusion and every evil
work": Whereas "the wisdom from above, is first pure, then peaceable,
gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without
partiality, and without hypocrisy." This is the true heavenly wisdom,
which Christianity only can boast of, and which the greatest of the
heathen wise men could never arrive at.
Now to God the Father, &c. &c.
DOING GOOD:
A SERMON, ON THE OCCASION OF WOOD'S PROJECT.[1]
[Footnote 1: "I did very lately, as I thought it my duty, preach to the
people under my inspection, upon the subject of Mr. Wood's coin; and
although I never heard that my sermon gave the least offence, as I am
sure none was intended; yet, if it were now printed and published, I
cannot say, I would insure it from the hands of the common hangman; or
my own person from those of a messenger." See "The Drapier's Letters,"
No. VI.
"'I never' (said the Dean in a jocular conversation), 'preached but
twice in my life; and then they were not sermons, but pamphlets.' Being
asked on what subject, he replied, 'They were against Wood's
halfpence.'"--Pilkington's _Memoirs_, vol. i. p. 56.
"The pieces relating to Ireland are those of a public nature; in which
the Dean appears, as usual, in the best light, because they do honour to
his heart as well as to his head; furnishing some additional proofs,
that, though he was very free in his abuse of the inhabitants of that
country, as well natives as foreigners, he had their interest sincerely
at heart, and perfectly understood it. His sermon upon Doing Good,
though peculiarly adapted to Ireland and Wood's designs upon it,
contains perhaps the best motives to patriotism that were ever delivered
within so small a compass."--BURKE.]
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXXIV.
GALATIANS, VI. 10.
"As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men."
Nature directs every one of us, and God permits us, to consult our own
private good before the private good of any other person whatsoever. We
are, indeed, commanded to love our neighbour as ourselves, but not as
well as ourselves. The love we have for ourselves is to be the pattern
of that love we ought to have towards our neighbour: But, as the copy
doth not equal the original, so my neighbour cannot think it hard, if I
prefer myself, who am the original, before him, who is only the copy.
Thus, if any matter equally concern the life, the reputation, the profit
of my neighbour, and my own; the law of nature, which is the law of God,
obligeth me to take care of myself first, and afterwards of him. And
this I need not be at much pains in persuading you to; for the want of
self-love, with regard to things of this world, is not among the faults
of mankind. But then, on the other side, if, by a small hurt and loss to
myself, I can procure a great good to my neighbour, in that case his
interest is to be preferred. For example, if I can be sure of saving his
life, without great danger to my own; if I can preserve him from being
undone, without ruining myself, or recover his reputation without
blasting mine; all this I am obliged to do: and, if I sincerely perform
it, I do then obey the command of God, in loving my neighbour as myself.
But, beside this love we owe to every man in his particular capacity
under the title of our neighbour, there is yet a duty of a more large
extensive nature incumbent on us; which is, our love to our neighbour in
his public capacity, as he is a member of that great body the
commonwealth, under the same government with ourselves; and this is
usually called love of the public, and is a duty to which we are more
strictly obliged than even that of loving ourselves; because therein
ourselves are also contained, as well as all our neighbours, in one
great body. This love of the public, or of the commonwealth, or love of
our country, was in ancient times properly known by the name of virtue,
because it was the greatest of all virtues, and was supposed to contain
all virtues in it: And many great examples of this virtue are left us on
record, scarcely to be believed, or even conceived, in such a base,
corrupted, wicked age as this we live in. In those times it was common
for men to sacrifice their lives for the good of their country, although
they had neither hope or belief of future rewards; whereas, in our days,
very few make the least scruple of sacrificing a whole nation, as well
as their own souls, for a little present gain; which often hath been
known to end in their own ruin in this world, as it certainly must in
that to come.
Have we not seen men, for the sake of some petty employment, give up
the very natural rights and liberties of their country, and of mankind,
in the ruin of which themselves must at last be involved? Are not these
corruptions gotten among the meanest of our people, who, for a piece of
money, will give their votes at a venture, for the disposal of their own
lives and fortunes, without considering whether it be to those who are
most likely to betray or defend them? But, if I were to produce only one
instance of a hundred wherein we fail in this duty of loving our
country, it would be an endless labour; and therefore I shall not
attempt it.
But here I would not be misunderstood: By the love of our country I do
not mean loyalty to our king, for that is a duty of another nature; and
a man may be very loyal, in the common sense of the word, without one
grain of public good at his heart. Witness this very kingdom we live in.
I verily believe, that, since the beginning of the world, no nation upon
earth ever shewed (all circumstances considered) such high constant
marks of loyalty in all their actions and behaviour, as we have done:
And, at the same time, no people ever appeared more utterly void of what
is called a public spirit. When I say the people, I mean the bulk or
mass of the people, for I have nothing to do with those in power.
Therefore I shall think my time not ill spent, if I can persuade most or
all of you who hear me, to shew the love you have for your country, by
endeavouring, in your several stations, to do all the public good you
are able. For I am certainly persuaded, that all our misfortunes arise
from no other original cause than that general disregard among us to the
public welfare.
I therefore undertake to shew you three things.
_First_: That there are few people so weak or mean, who have it not
sometimes in their power to be useful to the public.
_Secondly_: That it is often in the power of the meanest among mankind
to do mischief to the public.
And, _Lastly_: That all wilful injuries done to the public are very
great and aggravated sins in the sight of God.
_First_: There are few people so weak or mean, who have it not sometimes
in their power to be useful to the public. Solomon tells us of a poor
wise man who saved a city by his counsel. It hath often happened that a
private soldier, by some unexpected brave attempt, hath been
instrumental in obtaining a great victory. How many obscure men have
been authors of very useful inventions, whereof the world now reaps the
benefit? The very example of honesty and industry in a poor tradesman
will sometimes spread through a neighbourhood, when others see how
successful he is; and thus so many useful members are gained, for which
the whole body of the public is the better. Whoever is blessed with a
true public spirit, God will certainly put it into his way to make use
of that blessing, for the ends it was given him, by some means or other:
And therefore it hath been observed in most ages, that the greatest
actions, for the benefit of the commonwealth, have been performed by the
wisdom or courage, the contrivance or industry, of particular men, and
not of numbers; and that the safety of a kingdom hath often been owing
to those hands from whence it was least expected.
But, _Secondly_: It is often in the power of the meanest among mankind
to do mischief to the public: And hence arise most of those miseries
with which the states and kingdoms of the earth are infested. How many
great princes have been murdered by the meanest ruffians? The weakest
hand can open a flood-gate to drown a country, which a thousand of the
strongest cannot stop. Those who have thrown off all regard for public
good, will often have it in their way to do public evil, and will not
fail to exercise that power whenever they can. The greatest blow given
of late to this kingdom, was by the dishonesty of a few manufacturers;
who, by imposing bad ware at foreign markets, in almost the only traffic
permitted to us, did half ruin that trade; by which this poor unhappy
kingdom now suffers in the midst of sufferings. I speak not here of
persons in high stations, who ought to be free from all reflection, and
are supposed always to intend the welfare of the community: But we now
find by experience, that the meanest instrument may, by the concurrence
of accidents, have it in his power to bring a whole kingdom to the very
brink of destruction, and is, at this present, endeavouring to finish
his work; and hath agents among ourselves, who are contented to see
their own country undone, to be small sharers in that iniquitous gain,
which at last must end in their own ruin as well as ours. I confess, it
was chiefly the consideration of that great danger we are in, which
engaged me to discourse to you on this subject; to exhort you to a love
of your country, and a public spirit, when all you have is at stake; to
prefer the interest of your prince and your fellow-subjects before that
of one destructive impostor, and a few of his adherents.
Perhaps it may be thought by some, that this way of discoursing is not
so proper from the pulpit. But surely, when an open attempt is made, and
far carried on, to make a great kingdom one large poorhouse, to deprive
us of all means to exercise hospitality or charity, to turn our cities
and churches into ruins, to make the country a desert for wild beasts
and robbers, to destroy all arts and sciences, all trades and
manufactures, and the very tillage of the ground, only to enrich one
obscure ill-designing projector, and his followers; it is time for the
pastor to cry out that the wolf is getting into his flock, to warn them
to stand together, and all to consult the common safety. And God be
praised for His infinite goodness in raising such a spirit of union
among us, at least in this point, in the midst of all our former
divisions; which union, if it continue, will, in all probability, defeat
the pernicious design of this pestilent enemy to the nation.
But, from hence, it clearly follows how necessary the love of our
country, or a public spirit, is in every particular man, since the
wicked have so many opportunities of doing public mischief. Every man is
upon his guard for his private advantage; but, where the public is
concerned, he is apt to be negligent, considering himself only as one
among two or three millions, among whom the loss is equally shared, and
thus, he thinks, he can be no great sufferer. Meanwhile the trader, the
farmer, and the shopkeeper, complain of the hardness and deadness of the
times, and wonder whence it comes; while it is, in a great measure,
owing to their own folly, for want of that love of their country, and
public spirit and firm union among themselves, which are so necessary to
the prosperity of every nation.