3. Next it is obvious to speak of those melancholy persons who boast

themselves on what they call their knowledge of the world and of life.

There are men, alas not a few, who look upon acquaintance with evil as

if a part of their education. Instead of shunning vice and sin, they

try it, if for no other reason, simply for this--that they may have

knowledge of it. They mix with various classes of men, and they throw

themselves into the manners and opinions of all in turn. They are

ready-witted perhaps, prompt and versatile, and easily adapt themselves

so as to please and get acquainted with those they fall in with. They

have no scruples of conscience hindering them from complying with

whatever is proposed; they are of any form of religion, have lax or

correct morals, according to the occasion. They can revel with those

that revel, and they can speak serious things when their society is

serious. They travel up and down the country perhaps, or they are of

professions or pursuits which introduce them to men of various

languages, or which take them abroad, and they see persons of opposite

creeds and principles, and whatever they fall in with they take as so

many facts, merely as facts of human nature, not as things right or

wrong according to a certain fixed standard independent of themselves.

Now whatever of religion or truth remains in our fallen nature is not

on the surface: these men, then, studying what is uppermost, are in

fact but studying all that is evil in man, and in consequence they have

very low notions of man. They are very sceptical about the existence

of principle and virtue; they think all men equally swayed by worldly,

selfish, or sensual motives, though some hide their motives better than

others, or have feelings and likings of a more refined character. And

having given in to sin themselves, they have no higher principle within

them to counteract the effect of what they see without; all their

notions of man's nature, capabilities, and destinies, are derived from,

and are measured by, what goes on in the world, and accordingly they

apply all their knowledge to bad purposes. They think they know, and

they do know too truly on the whole, the motives and inducements which

will prevail with men; and they use their knowledge to overreach,

deceive, seduce, corrupt, or sway those with whom they have to do.

4. Another very different class of persons who study evil, and pride

themselves upon it, and are degraded by it, are those who indulge

themselves in contemplating and dwelling on the struggle between right

and wrong in their own minds. There have been from time to time men of

morbid imaginations, of any or no religious creed, who have so

exercised themselves. Indeed there has been a large school of writers

in very various departments, for years, I may say centuries past,

though happily they are diminishing now, who delight in bringing out

into open day all the weaknesses and inconsistencies of human nature;

nay worse, take pains to describe bad men, and how they feel, and what

they say; who interest the mind in bad men, nay in bad Angels, as if

Satan might be thought of otherwise than with shuddering. And there

are others, men of mistaken religious views, who think that religion

consists in dwelling on and describing the struggle between grace and

corrupt nature in the soul. Christ has brought us light and life, and

would have us put off what we are, and follow Him, who knew no sin.

But these men, far from rising even to the aspiration after perfection,

do not advance in their notion of spiritual religion beyond the idea of

declaring and lamenting their want of it. Confession is with them

perfection; nay, it is almost the test of a Christian, to be able to

discourse upon his inward corruption. It is well to confess sin in

detail with shame as an act of penitence; it is a snare to speak of it

vaguely and in public.

5. Lastly, even when used rightly, the knowledge of sin is not without

its danger. As mediciners would not exist were there no illness or

disease, so it is mental disease which gives rise to casuists. Pain

leads us to think of our bodies, and sin of our souls. Were our souls

in perfect harmony, they would act like an instrument in tune; we

should with difficulty divide the sounds, even if we would; but it is

the discordance, the jar within us, which leads us to a serious

contemplation of what we are. The same remark obviously applies to a

great deal of theological knowledge, on which men who have it are

tempted to pride themselves; I mean exact knowledge of heresies and the

like. The love of God alone can give such knowledge its right

direction. There is the danger lest men so informed find themselves

scrutinizing when they should be adoring, reasoning when they should be

believing, comparing when they should be choosing, and proving when

they should be acting. We know two things of the Angels--that they cry

Holy, Holy, Holy, and that they do God's bidding. Worship and service

make up their blessedness; and such is our blessedness in proportion as

we approach them. But all exercises of mind which lead us to reflect

upon and ascertain our state; to know what worship is, and why we

worship; what service is, and why we serve; what our feelings imply,

and what our words mean, tend to divert our minds from the one thing

needful, unless we are practised and expert in using them. All proofs

of religion, evidences, proofs of particular doctrines, scripture

proofs, and the like,--these certainly furnish scope for the exercise

of great and admirable powers of mind, and it would be fanatical to

disparage or disown them; but it requires a mind rooted and grounded in

love not to be dissipated by them. As for truly religious minds, they,

when so engaged, instead of mere disputing, are sure to turn inquiry

into meditation, exhortation into worship, and argument into teaching.

Reflections such as these, followed up, show us how different is our

state from that for which God made us. He meant us to be simple, and

we are unreal; He meant us to think no evil, and a thousand

associations, bad, trifling, or unworthy, attend our every thought. He

meant us to be drawn on to the glories without us, and we are drawn

back and (as it were) fascinated by the miseries within us. And hence

it is that the whole structure of society is so artificial; no one

trusts another, if he can help it; safeguards, checks, and securities

are ever sought after. No one means exactly what he says, for our

words have lost their natural meaning, and even an Angel could not use

them naturally, for every mind being different from every other, they

have no distinct meaning. What, indeed, is the very function of

society, as it is at present, but a rude attempt to cover the

degradation of the fall, and to make men feel respect for themselves,

and enjoy it in the eyes of others, without returning to God. This is

what we should especially guard against, because there is so much of it

in the world. I mean, not an abandonment of evil, not a sweeping away

and cleansing out of the corruption which sin has bred within us, but a

smoothing it over, an outside delicacy and polish, an ornamenting the

surface of things while "within are dead men's bones and all

uncleanness;" making the garments, which at first were given for

decency, a means of pride and vanity. Men give good names to what is

evil, they sanctify bad principles and feelings; and, knowing that

there is vice and error, selfishness, pride, and ambition, in the

world, they attempt, not to root out these evils, not to withstand

these errors;--that they think a dream, the dream of theorists who do

not know the world;--but to cherish and form alliance with them, to use

them, to make a science of selfishness, to flatter and indulge error,

and to bribe vice with the promise of bearing with it, so that it does

but keep in the shade.

But let us, finding ourselves in the state in which we are, take those

means which alone are really left us, which alone become us. Adam,

when he had sinned, and felt himself fallen, instead of honestly

abandoning what he had become, would fain have hid himself. He went a

step further. He did not give up what he now was, partly from dread of

God, partly from dislike of what he had been. He had learnt to love

sin and to fear God's justice. But Christ has purchased for us what we

lost in Adam, our garment of innocence. He has bid us and enabled us

to become as little children; He has purchased for us the grace of

_simplicity_, which, though one of the highest, is very little thought

about, is very little sought after. We have, indeed, a general idea

what love is, and hope, and faith, and truth, and purity, though a poor

idea; but we are almost blind to what is one of the first elements of

Christian perfection, that simple-mindedness which springs from the

heart's being _whole_ with God, entire, undivided. And those who think

they have an idea of it, commonly rise no higher than to mistake for it

a mere weakness and softness of mind, which is but its counterfeit. To

be simple is to be like the Apostles and first Christians. Our Saviour

says, "Be ye harmless," or simple, "as doves." And St. Paul, "I would

have you wise unto that which is good, and _simple concerning

evil_[2]." Again, "That ye may be _blameless_ and _harmless_, the sons

of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse

nation[3]." And he speaks of the "testimony of" his own "conscience,

that in _simplicity_ and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but

by the grace of God," he had his conversation in the world and towards

his disciples. Let us pray God to give us this great and precious

gift; that we may blot out from our memory all that offends Him;

unlearn all that knowledge which sin has taught us; rid ourselves of

selfish motives, self-conceit, and vanity, littlenesses, envying,

grudgings, meannesses; turn from all cowardly, low, miserable ways; and

escape from servile fears, the fear of man, vague anxieties of

conscience, and superstitions. So that we may have the boldness and

frankness of those who are as if they had no sin, from having been

cleansed from it; the uncontaminated hearts, open countenances, and

untroubled eyes of those who neither suspect, nor conceal, nor shun,

nor are jealous; in a word, so that we may have confidence in Him, that

we may stay on Him, and rest in the thoughts of Him, instead of

plunging amid the thickets of this world; that we may bear His eye and

His voice, and know no knowledge but the knowledge of Him and Jesus

Christ crucified, and desire no objects but what He has blessed and bid

us pursue.

[1] for Innocents' Day.

[2] Rom. xvi. 19.

[3] Phil. ii. 16.

END OF VOL. VIII.

Parochial and Plain Sermons, Vol. VIII (of 8) · 第 15 / 15 段