SERMON 7
OF SPIRITUAL BLINDNESS.
PREACHED AT CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD, BEFORE THE
UNIVERSITY, OCTOBER p21, 1693.
LUKE 11: 35.
Take heed therefore that the light which is in thee be not
darkness.
As LIGHT is certainly one of the most
glorious and useful creatures that ever issued from the wisdom and power
of the great Creator of the world, so were the eye of the soul as little weakened
by the fall, as the eye of the body, no doubt the light within us would appear
as much more glorious than the light without us, as the spiritual, intellectual
part of the creation exceeds the glories of the sensible and corporeal.
I shall indifferently express this
light by the name of conscience, (as a term equivalent to it,) in the following
particulars; but still this shall be, with respect to its informing, rather
than to its obliging office. Forasmuch as it is the former of these only which
is the proper effect of light, and not the latter. For though conscience be
both a light, and, (as it commands under GOD,) a law too; yet as it is a light,
it is not formally a law. For if it were, then whatsoever it discovered to
us, it would also oblige us to. But this is not so; since it both may, and
does discover to us the different nature of many things and actions without
obliging us either to the practice or forbearance of them; which one consideration
alone is sufficient to set the difference, between the enlightening and the
obliging office of conscience, clear beyond all objection.
Now this light, as it is certainly
the great and sovereign gift of GOD to mankind for the guidance and government
of their actions, in all that concerns them, with reference to this life,
or a better; so it is also as certain, that it is capable of being turned
into darkness, and thereby made wholly useless for so noble a purpose. For
so much the words of the text import; nor do they import only a bare possibility,
that it may be so, but also a very high probability that, without an extraordinary
prevention, it will be so.. For as much as all warning, in the very reason
of the thing, and according to the natural force of such expression, implies
in it these two things: 1. Some very considerable evil, or mischief warned
against; and, 2. An equal danger of falling into it: without which all warning
would be not only superfluous, but ridiculous.
Now, both these, in the present case,
are very great; as will appear by a distinct consideration of each of them.
And,
1. For the evil which we are warned
or cautioned against; to wit, the turning of this light within us into darkness:
An evil so inconceivably great and comprehensive, that, to give an account
of the utmost extent of it, would pose our thoughts, as well as nonplus our
expressions. But yet to help our apprehensions of it the best we can, let
us but consider with ourselves those intolerable evils which bodily blindness,
deafness, stupefaction, and an utter deprivation of all sense, must unavoidably
subject the outward man to. For what is one, in such a condition, able to
do? And what is he not liable to suffer? And yet doing and suffering, upon
the matter, comprehend all that concerns a man in this world. If such an one's
enemy seeks his life, in this forlorn case, he can neither see, nor hear,
nor perceive his approach, till he finds himself actually in his murdering
hands. He can neither encounter, nor escape him; neither in his own defense
give nor ward off a blow For whatsoever blinds a man, ipso facto disarms him;
so that being bereft both of his sight and of all his senses besides, what
such an one can be fit for, unless it be to set up for prophecy, or believe
transubstantiation, I cannot imagine.
These, I say, are some of those fatal
mischiefs, which corporal blindness and insensibility
expose the body to; and are not those of a spiritual blindness unexpressibly
greater? For must not a man, laboring under this, be utterly at a loss, how
to distinguish between the two grand governing concerns of life, good and
evil? And may not the ignorance of these cost us as dear as the knowledge
of them did our first parents? Life and death, vice and virtue, come alike
to such an one; as all things are of the same color to him who cannot see,
his whole soul is nothing but night and confusion, darkness and indistinction.
He cannot see the way to happiness, and how then should he avoid it? For where
there is no sense of things, there can be no distinction; and where there
is no distinction, there can be no choice.
A man, destitute of this directing
and distinguishing light within him, is and must be at the mercy of every
thing in nature, that would impose or serve a turn upon him. So that whatsoever
the Devil will have him do, that he must do. Whithersoever any exorbitant
desire or design hurries him, thither he must go. Whatsoever any base interest
shall prescribe, that he must set his hand to, whether his heart goes along
with it or no. If he be a statesman, he must be as willing to sell, as the
enemy of his country can be to buy. If a churchman, he must be ready to surrender,
and give up the church, and make a sacrifice of the altar itself, though he
live by it; and, (in a word,) take that for a full discharge from all his
obligations to do as he is bid. Which being the case of such as steer by
a false light, certainly no slave in the gallies
is or can be in such a wretched condition of slavery as a man thus abandoned
by conscience, and bereft of all inward principles, that should either guide
or control him in the course of his conversation. So that we see here the
transcendant greatness of the evil which we stand cautioned
against. But then,
2. If it were an evil that seldom happened,
that very rarely befell a man, this might, in a great measure, supersede
the strictness of the caution; but on the contrary, we shall find, that as
great as the evil is, which we are to fence against, (and that is as great
as the capacities of an immortal soul,) the greatness of the danger is still
commensurate For it is a case that usually happens; it is a mischief as frequent
in the event, as it is fatal in the effect. It is, as in a common plague,
in which the infection is as hard to be escaped, as the distemper to be cured:
For that which brings this darkness upon the soul is sin. And as the state
of nature now is, the soul is not so close united to the body, as sin is to
the soul; indeed, so close is the union between them, that one would even
think the soul itself (as much a spirit as it is) were the matter, and sin
the form, in our present constitution. In a word, there is a set combination
of all without a man, and all within him, of all above ground, and all under
it, (if bell be so,) first to put out his eyes, and then to draw or drive
him headlong into perdition. From all which I suppose, we must needs see
reason more than sufficient for this admonition of our SAVIOR, " Take
heed that the light which is in thee be not darkness:" An admonition
founded upon no less a concern, than all that a man can save, and all that
he can lose to eternity. And thus having shown both the vastness of the evil
itself, and the extreme danger we are in of it: Since no man can be at all
the wiser, or the safer, for barely knowing his danger, without a vigorous
application to prevent it; and since the surest preventive of it, is to know
by what arts and methods, our enemy will encounter us, and by which he is
most likely to prevail over us, we will inquire into, and consider those ways
and means by which he commonly attempts, and too frequently effects this so
dismal a change upon us, as to strip us even of the poor remains of our fallen
nature, by turning the last surviving spark of it, this light within. us,
into darkness.
For this must be acknowledged, that
no man living, in respect of conscience, is born blind, but makes himself
so. None can strike out the eye of his conscience but himself For nothing
can put it out, but that which sins it out. And upon this account, it must
be confessed, that a man may love his sin so enormously, as by a very ill
application of the Apostle's expression, even to "pluck out his own eyes,
and give them to it;" as, indeed, every obstinate sinner in the world
does.
Our present business, therefore, shall be to show
how, and by what courses, this divine light, this candle of the LORD, comes
first to burn faint and dim, and so by a gradual decay fainter and fainter,
till at length, by a total extinction, it quite sinks to nothing, and so dies
away. And this I shall do, 1: In general; and, 2: In particular.
I. And First in general, I shall lay
down these two observations:
1. That whatsoever defiles the conscience,
in the same degree also darkens it.
As to the philosophy of which, how
and by what way this is done, it is hard to conceive, and much harder to,
explain. Our great unacquaintance with the nature
of spiritual, immaterial beings leaving us wholly in the dark as to any explicit
knowledge, either how they work, or how they are worked upon. So that in discoursing
of these things we are forced to take up with analogy and allusion, instead
of evidence and demonstration. Nevertheless, the thing itself is certain,
be the manner of effecting it never so unaccountable.
Yet thus much we find, that there is
something in sin analogous to blackness, as innocence is frequently, in Scripture,
expressed and set forth to us by whiteness. All guilt blackens (or does something
equivalent to the blackening of) the soul; as where pitch cleaves to any
thing, it is sure to leave upon it both its foulness and its blackness together:
And then we know that blackness and darkness are inseparable.
Some even of the old Heathens (not
without countenance from ARISTOTLE himself) hold, that besides the native
inherent light of the intellect, (which is essential to it, as it is a faculty
made to apprehend its object,) there is also another light, in the nature
of a medium, beaming in upon it by a continual efflux and emanation from the
great Fountain of light, and irradiating this intellectual faculty, together
with the representations of things imprinted thereupon. According to which
doctrine, it seems with great reason to follow, that whatsoever interposes
between the mind and irradiations from GOD, (as all sin, more or less, certainly
does,) must needs hinder the entrance and admission of them into the mind;
and then darkness must, by necessary consequence, ensue, as being nothing
else but the absence or privation of light.
For the further illustration of which
notion, we may observe, that the understanding, the mind, or conscience of
man, (which we shall here take for the same thing,) seem to bear much the
same respect to GOD, which glass or crystal does to the light or sun; which
appears, indeed, to the eye a bright and a shining thing; nevertheless this
shining is not so much from any essential light or brightness existing in
the glass itself, (supposing that there be any such in it,) as it is from
the porousness of its body, rendering it transparent,
and thereby fit to receive and transmit those rays of light, which falling
upon it, and passing through it, represent it to common view as a luminous
body.. But now, let any thing of dirt or foulness sully this glass, and so
much of the shine or brightness of it is presently gone, because so much of
the light is thereby hindered from entering into it, and making its way through
it. But if, beside all this, you should also draw some black color, or deep
die upon it, either by paint or otherwise, then no brightness could be seen
in it at all; but the light being hereby utterly shut out, the glass or crystal
would shine or glister no more than a piece of wood, or a clod of earth.
In like manner, every act of sin, every
degree of guilt, does, in its proportion, cast a kind of soil or foulness
upon the intellectual part of the soul, and thereby intercepts those blessed
irradiations, which the divine nature is continually darting in upon it.
Nor is this all, but there are also some certain sorts and degrees of guilt,
so very black and foul. that they fall like an huge thick blot upon this faculty;
and so sinking into it, and settling within it, utterly exclude all those
illuminations, which would otherwise flow into it, and rest upon it, from
the great Father of lights; and this not from any failure, or defect in the
illumination itself, but from the indisposition of the object, which, being
thus blackened, can neither let in, nor transmit the beams that are cast upon
it.'
I will not affirm this to be a perfect exemplification
of the case before us, but I am sure it is a lively illustration of it, and
may be of no small use to such as shall thoroughly consider it. But however,
(as I showed before,) the thing itself is certain and unquestionable, guilt
and darkness being always so united, that you shall never find darkness mentioned
in Scripture in a moral sense, but you shall also find it derived from sin,
as its direct cause, and joined with it as its constant companion: For, by
a mutual production, sin both causes darkness, and is caused by it. Let this,
therefore, be our first general observation, that whatsoever pollutes or fouls
the conscience, in the same degree also darkens it.
2. Our other general observation shall
be this, that whatsoever puts a bias upon the conscience, weakens and by consequence
darkens the light of it. A clear and a right judging conscience must be always
impartial; and that it may be so, it must be perfectly indifferent: That is,
it must be free and disencumbered from every thing which may, in the least,
sway or incline it one way, rather than another, beyond what the sole and
mere evidence of things would naturally lead it to. In a word, it must judge
all by evidence, and nothing by inclination. And this our blessed SAVIOR,
with admirable emphasis and significance of expression, calls the singleness
of the eye. " If the eye," says he, " be single, thy whole
body shall be full of light:" That is, nothing extraneous must cleave
to, or join with the eye in the act of seeing, but it must be left solely
and entirely to itself, and its bare object, as naked as truth; as pure, simple,
and unmixed as sincerity. Otherwise the whole operation of it unavoidably
passes into cheat, fallacy, and delusion. As, to make the case yet more particular;
if you put a muffler before the eye, it cannot see; if any mote or dust falls
into it, it can hardly see; and if there be any soreness or pain in it, it
shuns the light, and will riot see. And all this by a very easy, but yet certain
and true analogy, is applicable to the eye of the soul, the conscience; and
the instance is verifiable upon it, in every one of the alleged particulars.
In short, whatsoever bends, or puts
a bias upon the conscience, represents things to it by a false light; and
whatsoever does so, causes in it a false and erroneous judgment of things.
And all error or falsehood is, in the very nature of a real intellectual darkness;
and consequently must diffuse a darkness upon the mind, so far as it is affected
and possessed with it. And thus much for our second general observation.
From whence we shall now pass to particulars.
In the assigning and stating of which, as I showed before, that sin in general
was the general cause of this darkness, so the particular causes of it must
be fetched from the particular kinds and degrees of sin.
Now sin may be considered three ways.
(l.) In the act. (2.) In the habit of custom. (3.) In the affection, or productive
principles of it. In all which we shall show what a darkening and malign influence
sin has upon the conscience or mind of man; and consequently with what extreme
care and severe vigilance the conscience ought to be guarded and watched over
in all these respects. And,
(1.) For sin considered in the single
act. Every particular commission of any great sin, such as are, for instance,
the sin of perjury, of uncleanness, of drunkenness, of theft; and, above all,
undutifulness to parents, (which being a thing so
much against nature, nothing in nature can be said for it:) These I say, and
the like capital, soul wasting sins, even in any one single act, have a strangely
efficacious power to darken the conscience.
Yea, every single gross act of sin,
is much the same thing to the conscience, that a great blow or fall is to
the head; it stuns and bereaves it of all use of its senses for a time: Thus
those sins of DAVID, so mazed and even stupefied
his conscience, that it lay as it were in a swoon, and void of all spiritual
sense for almost a whole year. For we do not find, that he came to himself
or to any true sight or sense of his horrid guilt, till NATHAN the Prophet
came and roused him up with a message from GOD; nor did NATHAN come to him,
till after the child, begotten in that adultery, was born. Such a terrible
deadness and stupefaction did those two sins bring upon his soul for so many
months together, during which time whatsoever notion of murder and adultery
DAVID might have in general; yet no doubt, he had but very slight and superficial
thoughts of the heinousness of his own in particular. And what was the reason
of this? Why, his conscience was cast into a dead sleep, and could not so
much as open its eyes, so as to be able to look either upwards or inwards.
This was his sad and forlorn estate, notwithstanding that long course of piety
and converse with GOD, which he was now grown old in. For he had been an early
practicer, and an eminent proficient in the ways of GOD, and
was now past the fiftieth year of his age; and yet, we see, that one or two
such gross sins dulled and deadened the spiritual principle within him to
such a degree, that they left him for a long time (as it were) dozed and benumbed,
blind and insensible; and no doubt, had not a peculiar grace from GOD raised
him up and recovered him, he had continued so to his life's end.
For this is most certain, and worth
our best observation; that whatsoever carries a man off from GOD, will in
the natural course, and tendency of it, carry him still further and further;
till at length it leaves him neither will nor power to return. For repentance
is neither the design, nor work of mere nature, which immediately after the
commission of sin never puts a man upon disowning or bewailing it; but upon
studying how to palliate and extenuate, and rather than fail, how to plead
for and defend it. This was the course which ADAM took upon the first sin:
And the same course in the same case will be taken by all the sons of ADAM
(if left to themselves) as long as the world stands.
(2.) The frequent and repeated practice
of sin has also a mighty power in it to obscure and darken the natural light
of conscience. Nothing being more certainly true, nor more universally acknowledged,
that that custom of sinning takes away the sense of sin; and, we may add,
the sight of.it too. For though the darkness consequent
upon any one gross act of sin, be (as we have showed) very great, yet that
which is caused by custom of sinning, is much greater and more hardly curable.
Particular acts of sin do (as it were) cast a mist before the eye of conscience,
but customary sinning brings a kind of film upon it, and it is not an ordinary
skill which can take off that. The former only closes the eye, but this latter
puts it out; as leaving upon the soul a wretched impotence, either to judge,
or to do well; much like the spots of the leopard not to be changed, or the
blackness of an Ethiopian not to be washed off. For by these very things the
SPIRIT of GOD, in Jer. 8:
23, expresses the iron invincible force of
a wicked custom.
Now the reason, I conceive, that such
a custom brings such a darkness upon the mind or conscience, is this, that
a man naturally designs to please himself in all that he does; and that it
is impossible for him to find any action really pleasurable, while he judges
it absolutely unlawful; since the sting of this must needs take off the relish
of the other, and it would be an intolerable torment to any man's mind, to
be always doing, and always condemning himself for what he does. And for this
cause a man shuts his eyes, and stops his ears against all that his reason
would tell him of the sinfulness of that practice, which long custom, and
frequency, has endeared to him. So that he becomes studiously and affectedly
ignorant of the illness of' the course he takes, that he may the' more sensibly
taste the pleasure of it. And thus, when an inveterate, imperious custom has
so overruled all a man's faculties, as neither to suffer his eyes to see,
nor his ears to hear, nor his mind to think of the evil of what he does; that
is, when all the instruments of knowledge are forbid to do their office, ignorance
and obscurity must needs be upon the whole soul, For when the windows are
stopped up, no wonder if the whole room be dark.
The truth is, such an habitual frequency
of sinning, does (as it were) bar and bolt up the conscience against the'
sharpest reproofs, and the most convincing instructions; so that when GOD,
by the thunder of his judgments, and the voice of his ministers, has been
ringing hell and vengeance into the ears of such a sinner, perhaps, like FELIX,
he may tremble a little for the present, and seem to yield, and fall down
before the over powering evidence of the conviction; but after a while, custom
overcoming conscience, the man goes his way, and though he is convinced,
and satisfied what he ought to do, yet he actually does what he uses to do:
And all this, because through the darkness of his intellect he judges the
present pleasure of such a sinful course, an over balance to the evil of it.
And what a darkness and delusion must conscience
needs be under, while it makes a man judge that really best for him, which
directly tends to, and generally ends in, his utter ruin and damnation! Custom
is said to be a second nature, and if by the first we are already so bad,
by the second (to be sure) we shall be much worse..
(3.) Every corrupt passion, or affection
of the mind, will certainly pervert the judging, and obscure and darken the
discerning power of conscience. The affections which the Greeks call IIabn,
and the Latins ajectus
animi, are of much the same use to the soul, which
the members are of to the body; serving as the proper instruments of most
of its actions; and are always attended with a certain motion of the blood
and spirits peculiar to each passion, or affection. And as for the seat or
fountain of them, philosophers both place them in and derive them from the
heart. But not to insist upon mere speculations: The passions or affections
are (as I may so call them) the mighty flights and sallyings
out of the soul upon such objects as come before it; and are generally accompanied
with such vehemence, that the Stoics reckoned them, in their very nature
and essence, as so many irregularities, and deviations from right reason,
and by no means incident to a wise or good than.
But though better philosophy has long
since exploded this opinion, and Christianity, which is the greatest and the
best, has taught us, that that godly sorrow is neither a paradox nor a contradiction,
(2 Cor. 7: 1O,) and consequently, that in every
passion or affection there is something purely natural, which may both be
distinguished and divided too from what is sinful and irregular; yet notwithstanding
all this, it must be confessed, that the passions are extremely apt to pass
into excess, and that when they do so, nothing in the world is a greater hindrance
to the mind or reason of man, from making a true, clear, and exact judgment
of things, than the passions thus wrought up to any thing of ferment or agitation.
It being as impossible to keep the judging faculty steady in such a case,,
as it would be to view a thing distinctly and perfectly through a perspective
glass held by a shaking, paralytic hand.
When the affections are once engaged,
the judgment is always partial. There is a strong bent, or bias upon it; it
is possessed and gained over, and as it were feed and retained in their cause,
and thereby made utterly unable to carry such an equal regard to the object,
as to consider truth nakedly, and as such to make it the rigid inflexible
rule, which it is to judge by; especially where duty is the thing to be judged
of. For a man will hardly be brought to judge right, and true, when by such
a judgment he is sure to condemn himself.
But this being a point of such high
importance, I will be yet more particular about it, and show severally, in
several vicious affections, how impossible it is for a man to keep his conscience
rightly informed, and fit to guide and direct him in all the arduous perplexing
cases of sin and duty, while he is actually under the power of any of them.
This I know men, generally, are not apt to believe, or to think that the failures
of their morals can at all affect their intellectuals. But I doubt not but
to make it not only credible, but undeniable.
Now the vicious affections which I
shall single out of those vast numbers, which the heart of man, that great
storehouse of the Devil, abounds with, as some of the principal, which thus
darken and debauch the conscience, shall be these three: 1. Sensuality. 2.
Covetousness. 3. Ambition. Of each of which I shall speak particularly.
1. And First for Sensuality, or a vehement
delight in, and pursuit of bodily pleasures. We may truly say of the body,
with reference to the soul, what was said by the poet of an ill neighbor,
Nemo tam prope tam proculque None so nearly
joined in point of vicinity, and yet so widely distant in point of interest
and inclinations.
The ancient philosophers generally holding the
soul of man to be a spiritual immaterial substance, could give no account
of the several defects in the operations of it, (which they were sufficiently
sensible of,) but from immersion into, and intimate conjunction with matter.
And accordingly all their complaints and accusations were still levelled
at this, as the only cause of all that they found amiss in the whole frame
and constitution of man's nature. In a word, whatsoever was observed by them,
either irregular or defective in the workings of the mind, was all charged
upon the body, as its great clog and impediment. As the skilfullest
artist in the world would make but sorry work of it should he be forced to
make use of tools no way fit for his purpose.
But whether the fault be in the spiritual
or corporeal part of our nature, or rather in both, certain it is, that no
two things in the world do more rise and grow upon the fall of each other,
than the flesh and the spirit: They being like a kind of balance in the hand
of nature, so that as one mounts up, the other still sinks down; and the high
estate of the body seldom or never fails to be the low, declining estate of
the soul. Which great contrariety and discord between them, the Apostle describes,
as well as words can do: " The flesh (says he) lusteth
against the spirit, and the spirit lusteth against
the flesh, and these two are contrary (Gal. 5: 7;) like two mighty Princes,
whose territories join, they are always encroaching, and warring upon one
another. And, as it most commonly falls out, that the worse cause has the
best success; so when the flesh and the spirit come to a battle, it is seldom
but the flesh comes off victorious. And therefore the same great Apostle,
who so "constantly exercised himself to keep a conscience void of offence,"
did as constantly and severely exercise himself " to keep under his body,
and bring it into subjection." (1 Cor. 9: 27.)
And the same, in all ages, has been the judgment and practice of all such
as have had any experience in the ways of GOD. For bodily pleasure dulls
and weakens the operations of the mind, even upon a natural account, and much
more upon a spiritual. Now the pleasures which chiefly affect, or rather
bewitch the body, and by so doing become the pest, and poison, of the nobler
and intellectual part of man, are those false and fallacious pleasures of
Lust and Intemperance Of each of which severally.
(1.) And, First, For Lust. Nothing
does, or can darken the mind, or conscience of man more: Nay, it has a peculiar
efficacy this way, and for that cause may justly be ranked amongst the very
powers of darkness: It being that which, (as naturalists observe,) strikes
at the proper seat of the understanding, the brain. Something of that "blackness
of darkness" mentioned inverse 13 of ST. JUDE, seeming to be of the very
nature, as well as punishment of this vice.
Nor does only the reason
of the thing itself, but also the examples of such as have been possessed
with it, demonstrate as much. For had not SAMSON (think we) an intolerable
darkness and confusion upon his understanding, while he ran roving after every
strumpet in that brutish manner that he did? Was it not the eye of his conscience
which DELILAH first put out? And when the two angels (as we read in Gen.
xix) struck those monsters, the men of SonoM, with blindness, had not their own detestable lusts
first stricken them with a greater? Or could HEROD have ever thought himself
obliged by the religion of an oath, to have murdered the Baptist, bad not
his lust and his HERODIAS imprisoned and murdered his conscience first? For,
surely, the common light of nature could not but teach him, that no oath or
vow whatsoever could warrant the greatest Prince upon earth to take away the
life of an innocent person. But it seems, his besotted conscience having broken
through the seventh commandment, the sixth stood too near to it to be safe
long: And therefore his two great casuists, the Devil and HE RODIAS, having
allowed him to he and wallow in adultery so long, easily persuaded him that
the same salvo might be found out for murder also. So that it was his lust
obstinately continued in, which thus darkened and deluded his conscience;
and the same will, no doubt, darken and delude, and, in the end, extinguish
the conscience of any man breathing, who shall surrender himself up to it.
The light within him shall grow every day less and less, and at length totally
and finally go out. So hard, or rather utterly unfeasible it is for men to
be zealous votaries of the blind god without losing their eyes in his service.
From all which it appears, what a folly
it is for any one under the dominion of his lust, to think to have a right
judgement in things relating to the state of his
soul.
(2.) And the same, in the Second place,
holds equally in that other branch of sensuality, Intemperance; where upon
we find them both joined together by the Prophet, "Whoredom," says
he, 11 and wine taketh away the heart;" (Hosea
4: 11;) that is, according to the language of Holy Writ, a man's judging and
discerning abilities. And there fore, whosoever would preserve these faculties
(especially as to their discernment of spiritual objects) quick and vigorous,
must be sure to keep the upper region of his soul clear and serene; which
the fumes of meat and drink, luxuriously taken in, will never suffer it to
be. We know the method, which that high and exact pattern of spiritual prudence,
ST. PAUL, took to keep the great sentinel of his soul, his conscience, always
vigilant and circumspect. It was
by a constant and severe temperance, heightened
with frequent watchings and fastings,
as he himself tells us, "In watchings often, in
fastings often." (2 Cor. 11:
9.7.)
This was the discipline which kept his senses exercised
to a sure and exquisite discrimination of good and evil, and made the lamp
within him shine always with a bright and triumphant flame.
But gluttony, and all excess, either
in eating or drinking, strangely clouds and dulls the intellectual powers;
and then, it is not to be expected that the conscience should bear up, when
the understanding is drunk down. An epicure's practice naturally disposes
a man to an epicure's principles; that is, to an equal looseness in both:
And he who makes his belly his business, will quickly come to have a conscience
of as large a swallow as his throat, of which there want not several deplorable
instances. Loads of meat and drink are fit for none but a beast of burden
to bear; and he is much the greater beast of the two, who carries his burden
in his belly, than he who carries it upon his back. On the contrary, nothing
is so great a friend to the mind of man, as abstinence; it strengthens the
memory, clears the apprehension, and sharpens the judgment, and in a word,
gives reason its full scope of acting; and when reason has that, it is always
a diligent and faithful handmaid to conscience. And therefore, where men
look no further than mere nature, (as many do not,) let no man expect to keep
his gluttony and his parts, his drunkenness and his wit, his revellings
and his judgment, and much less conscience together. For neither grace, nor
nature will have it so. It is an utter contradiction to the methods of both:
Who has woe? who has sorrow? who has contentions? who has babbling? who has
wounds without cause? who has redness of eyes?" says SOLOMON. (Prov.
23: 29.) Which question he himself presently answers in the next verse, "
They who tarry long at the wine, they who seek after mixed wine."
So say I, Who has a stupid intellect, a broken memory, and a blasted wit,
and (which is worse than all) a blind and benighted conscience, but the intemperate
and luxurious, the epicure and the smell feast? So impossible is it for a
man to turn sot, without making himself a blockhead too. I know this is not
always the present effect of these courses, but, at a long run, it will infalliably be so; and time and luxury together will certainly
change the inside, as it does the outside of the best heads whatsoever; and
much more of such heads as are strong for nothing but to bear drink. And thus
much for the first great darkener of man's mind, Sensuality, and that in both
the branches of it, Lust and Intemperance.
2. Another vicious affection, which
clouds and darkens the conscience, is Covetousness. Concerning which it may
truly; be affirmed, that of all the vices incident to human nature, none so
powerfully and peculiarly carries the soul downwards as covetousness does.
It makes it all earth and dirt, burying that noble thing which can never die.
So that while the body is above ground, the soul is under it; and therefore
must needs be in a state of darkness, while it converses in the regions of
it.
How mightily this vice darkens and
debases the mind, Scripture instances abundantly show. When MosEs
would assign the proper qualifications of a Judge, (which office certainly
calls for the quickest apprehension and the solidest judgment,) " You
shall not (says he) take a gift." (Dent. 16: 9.) But why? He presently
adds the reason " Because a gift (says he) blinds the eyes of the wise."
And no wonder, for it perverts their will; and then, who so blind as the man
who resolves not to see? Gold, it seems, being but a very bad help and cure
of the eyes in such cases In like manner, when SAMUEL would set the credit
of his integrity above all the aspersions of envy and calumny itself, "
Of whose hands," says he, " have I received a bribe to blind my
eyes therewith?" (1 Sang. 12: 3.) Implying thereby, that for a man to
be gripe handed and clear sighted too was impossible. And again, " A
gift," says the wise man, " destroyeth the heart:" (Eccles. 7: 7:) That is, (as we
have shown already,) the judging and discerning powers of the soul. By all
which we see, that in the judgment of some of the wisest and greatest men
that ever lived, such as MOSES, SAMUEL, SOLOMON, covetousness baffles and
befools the mind, blinds and confounds the reasoning faculty, and that not
only in ordinary persons, but even in the ablest, the wisest, and most sagacious.
And to give you one proof, above all, of the peculiar blinding power of this
vice, there is not the most covetous wretch breathing, who does so much as
see or perceive that he is covetous.
For the truth is, preach to the conscience
of a covetous person (if he may be said to have any) with the " tongue
of men and angels," and tell him of " the vanity of the world,"
of " treasure in heaven," and of the necessity of being "rich
towards GOD," and liberal to his poor brother and it is all but flat,
insipid, and ridiculous stuff to him, who neither sees, nor feels, nor suffers
any thing to pass into his heart but through his hands. You must preach to
such a one of bargain and sale, profits and perquisites, principal and interest,
use upon use; and if you can persuade him that godliness is gain in his own
sense, perhaps you may do something with him; otherwise, though you edge every
word you speak with reason and religion, evidence and demonstration, you
shall never affect, nor touch, nor so much as reach his conscience; for it
is kept sealed up in a bag under lock and key, and you cannot come at it.
And thus much for the Second base affection
that blinds the mind of man, which is Covetousness: A thing directly contrary
to the very spirit of Christianity, which is a free, a large, and an open
spirit; a spirit open to GOD and man, and always carrying charity in one hand
and generosity in the other.
3. The Third and last vile affection
which I shall mention (as having the same darkening effect upon the mind
or conscience) is Ambition. For as covetousness dulls the mind by pressing
it down too much below itself, so ambition dazzles it by lifting it up as
much above itself; but both of them are sure to darken the light of it. For
if you either look too intently down a deep precipice upon a thing at an extreme
distance below you, or with the same earnestness fix your eye upon something
at too great an height above you, in both cases you will find a vertigo or
giddiness. And where there is a giddiness in the head, there will be always
a mist before the eyes.
Pride, we know, (which is always cousin
german to ambition,) is commonly reckoned the fore
runner of a fall. It was the Devil's sin, and the Devil's ruin, and has been
ever since the Devil's stratagem, who like an experienced wrestler, usually
gives a man a lift, before he gives him a throw. But how does he do this?
Why, by first blinding him with ambition; and when a man either cannot or
will not mind the' ground he stands upon, he is easily justled down and thrust headlong into the next ditch. The
truth is, in this case men seem to ascend to an high station, just as they
use to leap down a great steep: In both cases they shut their eyes first,
for in both the danger is very dreadful, and the way to venture upon it is
not to see it.
Yea, so fatally does this towering,
aspiring humor intoxicate and impose upon men's minds, that when the Devil
stands bobbing and tantalizing their gaping hopes with some preferment in
church or state, they shall do the basest, the vilest, and most odious things
imaginable; and that, riot only in defiance of conscience, but, which is yet
more impudent and intolerable, shall even allege conscience itself as the
very reason for the doing of them: And when they have done, shall wipe their
mouths, and with as bold a front look the world in the face, as if they expected
thanks for such villanies, as a modest malefactor
would scarce presume to expect a pardon for.
Let this therefore be fixed upon as
a certain maxim, that ambition first blinds the conscience, and then leads
the man whither it will, and that is in the direct course of it, to the Devil.
I know there are many more irregular
and corrupt affections belonging to the mind of man, and all of them in their
degree apt to darken and obscure the light of conscience. Such as are wrath
and revenge, envy and malice, fear and despair, with many such others, even
too many a great deal, to be crowded into one discourse. But the three fore
mentioned (which we have been treating of) are, doubtless, the most predominant,
the most potent in their influence, and most pernicious in their effect, as
answering to those three principal objects, which, of all others, do most
absolutely command and domineer over the desires of men; to wit, the pleasures
of the world working upon their sensuality; the profits of the world upon
their covetousness; and lastly, the honors of it upon their ambition. Which
three powerful incentives, meeting with these three violent affections, are
(as it were) the great trident in the tempter's hand, by which he strikes
through the very hearts and souls of men; or as a mighty'1 three fold cord,"
by which he first hampers and then draws the whole world after him, and that
with such a rapid swing, such an irresistible fascination upon the understandings
as well as appetites of men, that as GOD said heretofore, " Let there
be light, and there was light," so this proud rival of his Creator,
and overturner of the creation, is still saying
in defiance of him,' Let there be darkness,' and accordingly there is darkness;
darkness upon the mind and reason, darkness upon the judgment and conscience
of all mankind.
So that hell itself seems to be nothing
else, but the Devil's finishing this his great work, and the consummation
of that darkness in another world which he had so fatally be
, gun in this. And now, to sum up briefly the foregoing particulars,
you have heard of what vast and infinite moment it is to have a clear, impartial,
and right judging conscience; such an one as a man may reckon himself safe
in the directions of, as of a guide that will always tell him truth, and truth
with authority; and that the eye of conscience may be' always thus quick and
lively, let constant use be sure to keep it constantly open; and thereby ready
and prepared to let in those heavenly beams, which are always streaming forth
from GOD upon minds fitted to receive them.
And to this purpose let a man fly from
every thing which may leave either a foulness or a bias upon it; for the first
will blacken, and the other will distort it, and both be sure to darken it.
Particularly let him dread every gross act of sin; for one great stab may
as certainly and speedily destroy life as forty lesser wounds. Let him also
carry a jealous eye over every growing habit of sin; for custom is an over
match to nature, and seldom conquered by grace; and, above all, let him keep
aloof from all fellowship with any vicious and base affection; especially
from all sensuality, which is not only the dirt, but the black dirt, which
the Devil throws upon the souls of men: Accordingly, let him keep himself
untouched with the hellish, unhallowed heats of lust, and the noisome steams
and exhalations of intemperance, which never fail to leave a brutish dullness
and infatuation behind them. Likewise, let him bear himself above that sordid'
and low thing, that utter contradiction to all greatness of mind, covetousness;
let him disenslave himself from the pelf of the
world, from that amor sceleratus habendi; for all love
has something of blindness attending it, but the love of money especially.
And lastly, let him learn so to look upon the honors, the pomp, and greatness
of the world, as to look through them too. Fools, indeed, are apt to be blown
up by them, and to sacrifice all for them; sometimes venturing their very
heads, only to get a feather in their caps. But wise men, instead of looking
above them, choose rather to look about them and within them, and by so doing,
keep their eyes always in their heads, and maintain`a
noble clearness in one, and steadiness in the other. These, I say, are some
of those ways and methods by which this great and internal light, the judging
faculty of conscience, may he preserved in its vigor and quickness. And to
complete the foregoing directions by the addition of one word more; that
we may the more surely prevent our affections from working too much upon
our judgment, let us wisely beware of all such things as may work too strongly
upon our affections.
" If the light that is in thee
be darkness," says our SAVIOR, " how great must that darkness needs
be!" That is, how fatal, how destructive! And therefore, I shall close
up all with those other words of our SAVIOR " While you have the light, walk in the light;" so
that the way to have it, (we see,) " is to walk in it." (John 12:) That is, by the actions of a pious, innocent, well governed
life, to cherish, heighten, and improve it; for still so much innocence, so
much light: And on the other side, to abhor and loathe whatsoever may any,
ways discourage and eclipse it; as every degree of vice assuredly will. And
thus by continual feeding and trimming our lamps, we shall find that this
blessed light within us will grow every day stronger and stronger, and flame
out brighter and brighter, till at length, having led us through this vale
of darkness and mortality, it shall bring us to those happy mansions where
there is light and life for evermore.
SERMON 8
ON THE PROSPERITY OF THE WICKED.
PROVERBS 1: 32.
The prosperity of fools shall destroy these.
IT is a thing partly, worth our wonder,
partly our compassion, that what the greatest part of men are most passionately
desirous of, that they are generally most unfit for they look upon things
absolutely in themselves, without examining the suitableness of them to their
own conditions; and so, at a distance, court that as an enjoyment, which,
upon experience, they find a great calamity. And this peculiar ill property
has folly, that it widens and enlarges men's desires, while it lessens their
capacities: Like a dropsy, which still calls for drink, but not affording
strength to digest it, puts an end to the drinker, but not the thirst.
As for the explication of the text,
to tell you, that in the dialect of Scripture, but especially of this book
of Proverbs, wicked men are called fools, and wickedness folly, as, on the
contrary, that piety is still graced with the name of wisdom, would be as
superfluous, as to attempt the proof of a self evident principle, or to light
a candle to the sun. By fools, therefore, are here represented all wicked
and vicious persons: Such as turn their backs upon reason and religion, and
wholly devoting themselves to sensuality, follow the sway and career of their
corrupt affections.
The misery of which persons is from
hence most manifest, that when GOD gives them what they most love, they perish
in the embraces of it, are crushed to death under the heaps of gold, stifled
with an overcoming plenty; like a ship fetching rich commodities from a far
country, but sinking by the weight of them in its return. Since,`, therefore,
wicked men are so strangely out in the calculating of their own interest,
and account nothing happiness, but what brings up death and destruction in
the rear of it; and since prosperity is yet, in itself, a real blessing, though
to them it becomes a mischief, and determines in a curse; it concerns us
to look into the reason of this strange event, and to examine how it comes
to pass, that " the prosperity of fools destroys them."
The reasons of it, I conceive,
may be these three: I. Because every foolish or vicious
person is either ignorant or regardless of the proper ends and uses, for which
GOD designs prosperity. II. Because prosperity (as the nature of man now stands)
has a peculiar force and fitness to abate men's virtues, and to heighten their
corruptions. III. And Lastly, Because it directly indisposes them to the
proper means of amendment and recovery.
I, And First, One reason why vicious persons miscarry
by prosperity, is, because every such person is either ignorant or regardless
of the proper ends and uses for which GOD ordains and designs it. Which ends
are these:
1. To try and discover what is in a
man. All trial is properly inquiry, and inquiry is an endeavor after the knowledge
of a thing, as yet unknown; and consequently, in strictness of speech, GOD
who knows all things, and can be ignorant of nothing, cannot be said to try,
any more than he can be said to inquire. But GOD, while he speaks to men,
is often pleased to speak after the manner of men; and the reason of this
is not only his condescension to our capacities, but because, in many actions,
GOD behaves himself with some analogy to the actings
of men. And therefore, because GOD sometimes sets those things before men,
that have in them a fitness to draw forth and discover what is in their heart,
ass inquisitive persons do, who have a mind to pry into the thoughts and actions
of their neighbor. He is, upon this account, said to try or to inquire, though,
in truth, by so doing, GOD designs not to inform himself, but the person whom
he tries, and give both him and the world a view of his temper and disposition.
For the world is ignorant of men, till
occasion gives them power to. turn their insides outward, and to show themselves.
So that what is said of an office, may be also said of prosperity and a fortune,
that it does indicare virum,
discover what the man is, and what metal his heart is made of. We see a slave,
perhaps, cringe, and sneak, and humble himself; but do we therefore presently
think that we see his nature in his behavior? No, we may find ourselves much
mistaken; for nobody knows, in case Providence should think fit to smile
upon such an one, and (as it were) to launch him forth into a deep and a wide
fortune, how quickly he would be another man, assume another spirit, and grow
insolent, imperious, and insufferable.
Nor is this a mystery hid only from
the eyes of the world round about a man, but sometimes also even from himself;
for he seldom knows his own heart so perfectly, as to be able to give a certain
account of the future disposition and inclination of it, when placed under
different states and conditions of life. He that has been bred poor, and
grown up in a cottage, knows not how his spirits would move, and his blood
rise, should he come to handle full bags, to see splendid attendances, and
to eat, drink, and sleep in state. Yet, no doubt, but by such great unlikely
changes, as also by lower degrees of affluence, Providence designs to sift,
and search, and give the world some experience of the make and bent of men's
minds.
But now the vicious person flies only
upon the bulk and matter of the gift, and considers not that the giver has
a design upon him; the consideration of which would naturally make men cautious
and circumspect in their behavior: For surely it is not an ordinary degree
of intemperance, that would prompt a man to drink intemperately before those,
who he knows gave him his freedom, only to try whether he would use it to
excess or no. GOD gave SAUL a rich booty upon the conquest of ASIALEK, to
try whether he would prefer real obedience before pretended sacrifice, and
the performing of a command before flying upon the spoil: But his ignorance
of the use to which GOD designed that prosperous event, made him let loose
the reins of his folly and his covetousness, even to the blasting of his crown,
and the taking the sceptre from his family "
Because you has rejected the word of the LORD," said SAMUEL to him, "
he has also rejected thee from being King:" (1 Sam. 15: 23.) So that
this was the effect of his misunderstood success, he conquered AMALEK, but
destroyed himself.
2. The Second end and design of God in giving prosperity,
and of which all wicked persons are either ignorant or regardless, is to encourage
them in a constant, humble expression of their gratitude to the bounty of
their Maker, who deals such rich and plentiful provisions to his undeserving
creatures. GOD would have every temporal blessing raise that question in
the heart, " LORD, what is man, that you visitest
him? or the son of man, that you so regardest him?"
He never sends the pleasures of the spring, nor the plenties of the harvest, to surfeit, but to oblige the sons
of men; and the very fruits of the earth are intended as arguments to carry
their thoughts to heaven.
But the wicked and sensual part of
the world are only concerned to find scope and room enough to wallow in; if
they can but have it, whence they have it troubles not their thoughts; saying
grace is no part of their meal; they feed and grovel like swine under an oak,
filling themselves with the mast, but never so much as looking up, either
to the boughs that bore, or the hands that shook it down. This is their temper
and deportment in the midst of all their enjoyments. But it is far from reaching
the purposes of the great Governor of the world, who makes it not his care
to gratify the brutishness and stupidity of evil persons. He will not be their
Purveyor only, but their Instructor also, and see them taught, as well as
fed by his liberality.
3. The Third end that GOD gives men
prosperity for, and of which wicked persons take no notice, is to make them
helpful to society. No man holds the abundance of wealth, power, and honor,
that Heaven has blessed him with, as a proprietor, but as a steward, as the
trustee of Providence, to use and dispense it for the good of those whom he
converses with. For does any one think, that the Divine Providence concerns
itself to lift him up to a station of power, only to insult and domineer over
those who are round about him; and to show the world how able he is to do
a mischief or a shrewd turn? No, GOD deposits (and he does but deposit) a
power in his hand, to encourage virtue, and to relieve oppressed innocence;
and, in a word, to act as his deputy, and as GOD himself would do, should
he be pleased to act immediately in affairs here below.
God bids a great and rich person rise
and shine, as he bids the sun; that is, not for himself, but for the necessities
of the world. And none is so honorable in his own person, as he who is helpful
to others. When GOD makes a man wealthy and potent, he passes a double obligation
upon him; one, that he gives him riches; the other, that he gives him an opportunity
of exercising a great virtue For surely, if GOD shall be pleased to make me
his almoner, and the conduit by which his goodness may descend upon my distressed
neighbor; though the charity be personally mine, yet both of us have cause
to thank GOD for it, I that I can be virtuous, and he that he is relieved.
But the wicked worldly person looks
no farther than himself; his charity ends at home, where it should only begin.
He thinks that Providence fills his purse and his barns, only to pamper his
own carcass, to invite him to take his ease and his fill, that is, to serve
his base appetites with all the occasions of sin. It is not his business
to do good, but only to enjoy it, and to enjoy it so as to lessen it by monopolizing
and confining it. Whereupon, being ignorant of the purpose, it is no wonder
if he also abuses the bounty of Providence, and so perverts it to 11 his own
destruction."
II. The Second general reason, why
" the prosperity of fools proves destructive to them," is, Because
prosperity (as the nature of man now stands) has a peculiar force and fitness
to abate men's virtues, and to heighten their corruptions.
1. And, First, For its abating their
virtues. Virtue, of any sort whatsoever, is a plant that grows upon no ground,
but such an one as is frequently tilled and cultivated with the
severest labor. But what a stranger is toil and labor to a great fortune!
Persons possessed of this j udge themselves to
have actually all that for which labor can be rational: For men usually labor
to be rich, great, and eminent. And these are born to all this, as to an inheritance.
They are at the top of the hill already; so that while others are climbing
and panting to get up, they have nothing else to do, but to he down and sun
themselves, and at their own ease be spectators of other men's labors.
But it is poverty and hardship that
has made the most famed commanders, the fittest persons for business, the
most expert statesmen and the greatest philosophers. For that has first, pushed
them on upon the account of necessity, which being satisfied they have aimed
a step higher at convenience; and so being at length inured to a course of
virtuous and generous sedulity, pleasure has continued that which necessity
first began; till their endeavors have been crowned with eminence, mastership,
and perfection in the way they have been engaged in.
But would the young effeminate gallant, that never
knew what it was to want his will, that every day clothes himself with the
riches, and swims in the delights of the world; would he, I say, choose to
rise out of his soft bed at midnight, to begin an hard and a long march,
to engage in a crabbed study, or to follow some tedious perplexed business?
No, he will have his servants, and the sun itself rise before him; when his
breakfast is ready, he will make himself ready too, unless perhaps sometimes
his hounds and his huntsmen break his sleep, and so make him early in order
to his being idle.
Hence we observe so many great families
to decay and moulder away through the debauchery
and sottishness of the heir: The reason of which
is, that the possession of an estate does not prompt men to those severe and
virtuous practices, by which it was first acquired. The grand child perhaps
games, and drinks, and whores himself out of those fair lands, manors, and
mansions, which his glorious ancestors had fought or studied themselves into,
which they had got by preserving their country against an invasion, by facing
an enemy in the field, hungry and thirsty, early and late, by preferring a
brave action before a sound sleep, though nature might never so much require
it.
When the success and courage of the
Romans had made them masters of the wealth and pleasures of all the conquered
nations round about them, we see how quickly the edge of their valor was dulled,
and the rigorous honesty of their morals dissolved and melted away with those
delights which too easily circumvent and overcome the hearts of men: So that
instead of the CAMILLI, the FABRICII, the Scipios, and such like propagators of the growing greatness
of the Roman empire, as soon as, the bulk of it grew vast and unlimited upon
the reign of AUGUSTUS GESAR, we find a degenerous
race Of CALIGULAS, NExos, and VITELLIUSES, and of
other inferior sycophants and flatterers, who neither knew nor affected any
other way of making themselves considerable, but by a servile adoring of the
vices and follies of great ones above them, and a base, treacherous informing
against virtuous and brave persons about them.
The whole business that was carried on with such
noise and eagerness in that great city, then the Empress of the Western World,
was nothing else but to build magnificently, to feed luxuriously, to frequent
sports and theatres, and, in a word, to flatter and be flattered; the effects
of too full and unwieldy prosperity. But surely they could not have had leisure
to think upon their mullets, their Lucrinian oysters,
their pheenecoptors, and the'like;
they could not have made a rendezvous of all the elements at their table every
day, in such a prodigious variety of meats and drinks; they could not, I say,
have thus intended these things, had the Gauls been
besieging their Capitol, or HANNIBAL at the head of his Carthaginian army'
rapping at their doors.' This would quickly have turned their spits into
swords, and whet their teeth too against their enemies. But when peace, ease
and plenty took away these whetstones of courage, they insensibly slid into
the Asiatic
softness, and were intent upon nothing but their
cooks, and their ragouts, their fine attendants and unusual habits; so that
the Roman genius was (as the English seems to be now) even lost and stifled,
and the conquerors themselves transformed into the guise and garb of the conquered,
till by degrees the empire shrivelled and pined
away; and from such a surfeit of immoderate prosperity, passed at length into
a final consumption.
Nor is this strange, if we consider
man's nature, and reflect upon the great impotence and difficulty that it
finds in advancing into the ways of virtue merely by itself, without some
collateral aids and assistances, and such helps as shall smooth the way before
it, by removing all hinderances and impediments.
For virtue, as it first lies in the heart of man, is but as a little spark,
which may indeed be blown into a flame; it has that innate force in it, that
being cherished and furthered in its course, the least particle falling from
a candle may climb the top of palaces, waste a city, and consume a neighborhood.
But then the suitableness of the fuel, and the wind and the air, must conspire
with its endeavors: This is the breath that must enliven and fan, and bear
it up, till it becomes mighty and victorious. Otherwise, do we think that
that little thing, that falling upon thatch, or a stack of corn, prevails
so marvelously, could exert its strength and its flames, its terror and its
rage falling into the dew or the dust? There it is presently checked, and
left to its own little bulk to preserve itself; which, meeting with no catching
matter, presently expires and dies, and becomes weak and insignificant.
In like manner, let us suppose a man,
according to his natural frame and temper, addicted to modesty and telpe
I ante, to virtuous and sober courses. Here is indeed something improvable
into a bright and a noble perfection; GOD has kindled the spark, sown the
seed, and we see the first lineaments of a JOSEPH or a FARICIUS: But now has
this little embryo strength enough to thrust itself into the world? To hold
up its head, and to maintain its course to a perfect maturity, against all
the assaults and batteries of intemperance; all the snares and trepans that
common life lays in its way to extinguish and suppress it? Can it abstain
in the midst of all the importunities and opportunities of sensuality, without
being confirmed and disciplined by long hardships, severe abridgments, and
the rules of virtue frequently inculcated and carefully pressed? No; we shall
quickly find those hopeful beginnings dashed and swallowed by such ruining
delights. Prosperity is but a bad nurse to virtue; a nurse which is like to
starve it in its infancy, and to spoil it in growth.
III. I come now in the next place to
show, that as it has such an aptness to lessen and abate virtue, so it has
a peculiar force also to heighten and inflame men's corruptions. Nothing
shall more effectually betray the heart into a love of sin, and a loathing
of holiness, than an ill managed prosperity. It is like some meats, the more
luscious so much the more dangerous. Prosperity and ease upon an unsanctified,
impure heart, is like the sunbeams upon a dunghill; it raises many filthy,
noisome exhalations. The same soldiers, who in hard service, and in the battle,
are in perfect subjection to their leaders, in peace and luxury are apt to
mutiny and rebel. That corrupt affection which has lain, as it were, dead
and frozen in the midst of distracting businesses, or under adversity, when
the sun of prosperity has shined upon it, then, like a snake, presently recovers
its former strength and venom. Vice must be caressed and smiled upon, that
it may thrive and sting. It is starved by poverty: It droops tinder the frowns
of fortune, and pines away upon bread and water. But when the channels of
plenty run high, and every appetite is plied with abundance and variety,
then the inbred corruption of the heart shows itself pampered and insolent,
too unruly for discipline and too big for correction.
Which will appear the better by considering
those vices, which more particularly receive improvement by prosperity.
1. And the First is Pride. Who almost
is there, whose heart does not swell with his bag? And whose thoughts do not
follow the proportions of his condition? What difference has been seen in
the same man poor and preferred? His mind, like a mushroom, has shot up in
a night. His business is first to forget himself, and then his friends. When
the sun shines, then the peacock displays his train. We know when HEZEKIAH'S
treasuries were full, his armories replenished, and the pomp of his court
rich and splendid, how his heart was lifted up, and what vaunts he made of
all to the Babylonish Ambassadors. (Isa.
29: 2.) Though in the end, as most proud fools do, he smarted for his ostentation.
See NERUCHADNTEZZAR also strutting himself upon the survey of that mass of
riches and settled grandeur that Providence had blessed his court with. It
swelled his heart, till it broke out at his mouth in that rhodomontade,
" Is not this great Babylon that I have built for the house of the kingdom,
by the might of my power, and for the glory of my majesty?" (Dan. 4:
3O.) Now, that prosperity, by fomenting a man's pride, lays a certain train
for his ruin, will easily be acknowledged by him who either from Scripture
or experience shall learn what a spite Providence constantly owes the proud
person. He is the very eye sore of Heaven; and GOD even looks upon his own
supremacy as concerned to abase him.
2. Another sin that is apt to receive
increase and growth from prosperity, is Luxury and Uncleanness. Sodom "
was a place watered like the garden of GOD." (Gen. 13: 1O.) "
There was in it fullness of bread," (Ezec.
16: 49,) and a redundant fruition of all things. This was the condition
of Sodom; and what the sin of it was, and the dismal consequence of that sin,
is too well known. The Israelites committing fornication with the daughters
of Moab, which reaped down so many thousands of them at once, was introduced
with feasting and dancing, and all the gaieties and festivities of a prosperous,
triumphing people. We read of nothing like adultery in a persecuted DAVID
in the wilderness; he fled here and there like a chased roe upon the mountains:
But when the delicacies of the court softened and ungirded
his spirit, when he drowsed upon his couch, and sunned himself upon the leads
of his palace; then it was that this great hero fell by a glance, and buried
his glories in his neighbor's bed; gaining to his name a lasting slur, and
to his conscience a fearful wound.
As SOLOMON says of a man surprised
with surfeit and intemperance, we may say of every foolish man immersed in
prosperity, " That his eyes shall look upon strange women, and his heart
shall utter perverse things." It is a tempting thing for the fool to
be gadding abroad in a fair day. DINAH knows not, but the snare maybe laid
for her, and she return with a rape upon her honor, baffled, and deflowered,
and robbed of the crown of her virginity. LOT'S daughters revelled
and banqueted their father into incest.
The unclean Devil haunts the families
of the rich, the gallant, and the high livers; and there is nothing but the
wisdom from above which descends upon strict, humble, and praying persons,
that can preserve the soul pure and sound in the killing neighborhood of such
a contagion.
3. A Third sin that prosperity inclines
the corrupt heart of man to, is Neglect of GOD in the duties of religion.
Those who he soft and warns in a rich estate, seldom come to heat themselves
at the altar. It is a poor fervor that arises from devotion, in comparison
of that which sparkles from the generous draughts, and the festival fare which
attend the tables of the wealthy and the great. Such men are (as they think)
so happy, that they have no leisure to be holy. They look upon prayer as the
work of the poor and the solitary, and such as have nothing to spend but their
time and themselves. If JESHURUN wax fat, it is ten to one but he will kick
against trim who made him so.
And now, I suppose, a reflection upon
the premises cannot but press every serious person with a consideration of
the ticklish estate he stands in, while the favors of Providence are pleased
to breathe upon him in those gentle gales. No man is wholly out of the danger
which we have been discoursing of: For every man has so much of folly in him,
as he has of sin.; and therefore he must know, that his foot is not so steady,
but it may slip and slide in the oily paths of prosperity.
. The treachery and weakness of his own heart may
betray and insensibly bewitch him into the love and liking of a fawning vice.
What the Prophet says of wine and music, may be also said of prosperity, whose
intoxications are not at all less, that it " steals away the heart."
The man shall find that his heart is gone, though he perceives not when it
goes.
All the reason of this is, because
it is natural for the soul in time of prosperity to be more careless and unbent;
and consequently, not keeping so narrow a watch over itself, is more exposed
to the invasions and arts of its industrious enemy. Upon which account, the
wise and the cautious will look upon the most promising season of prosperity
with a doubtful and a suspicious eye; as bewaring, lest while it offers a
kiss to the lips, it brings a javelin for the side; many hearts have been
thus melted, that could never have been broken. This also may be a full, though
a sad argument to allay the foolish envy, with which some are apt to look
upon men of great and flourishing estates at a distance: For how do they know,
that what they make the object of their envy, is not a fitter object for their
pity? And that this glistering person, so much admired by them, is not now
a preparing for his ruin, and fatting for the slaughters of eternity? That
he does not eat his bane, and carouse his poison? The poor man perhaps is
cursed into all his greatness and prosperity. Providence has put it as a sword
into his hand, for the wounding and destroying of his own soul: For he knows
not how to use any of these things; and so has only this advantage, that he
is damned in state, and goes to hell with more ease, more flourish, and magnificence
than other men.
And thus much for the Second general
reason, why the prosperity of fools proves fatal and destructive to them.
I come now to the Third and last, which is, because prosperity directly indisposes
men to the proper means of their amendment and recovery.
1. As First, It renders then utterly
averse from receiving counsel and admonition: "I spoke to thee in thy prosperity,
and you saidst, I will not hear." (Jer.
22: 2l.) The ear is wanton, and ungoverned, and the heart insolent and obdurate,
till one is pierced, and the other made tender by
affliction. Prosperity leaves a kind of dullness and lethargy upon the spirit;
so that the still voice of GOD will not awaken a man, but he must thunder
and lighten about his ears, before he will be brought to take notice that
GOD speaks to him. All the divine threatenings and
reprehensions beat upon such an one, but as stubble upon a brass wall; the
man and his vice stand firm, unshaken, and unconcerned; he presumes that
the course of his affairs will proceed always as it does, smoothly, and without
interruption: GQ That to morrow will be as to day, and much more abundant."
It is natural for men in a prosperous condition neither to love nor suspect
a change.
But besides, prosperity does not only
shut the earth against counsel, by reason of the dullness that it leaves upon
the senses, but also upon the account of that arrogance and untutored haughtiness
that it brings upon the mind; which of all other qualities chiefly stops the
entrance of advice, by making a man look upon himself as too great and too
wise, to admit of the assistances of another's wisdom. The richest man will
still think himself the wisest man: And where there is fortune, there needs
no advice.
2. Much prosperity utterly unfits such
persons for the sharp trials of adversity: Which yet GOD uses as the most
proper and sovereign means to correct and reduce a soul grown vain and extravagant,
by a long uninterrupted felicity. But an unsanctified, unregenerate person,
passing into so great an alteration of estate, is like a Iran in a sweat entering
into a river, or throwing himself into the snow; he is presently struck to
the heart, he languishes, and meets with certain death in the change. His
heart is too effeminate and weak to contest with want and hardship, and the
killing misery of having been happy heretofore. For in this condition, he
certainly misbehaves himself one of these two ways.
(1.) He either faints and desponds,
and parts with his hope together with his possessions: He has neither confidence
in Providence, nor substance in himself, to bear him out, and buoy up his
sinking_ spirit, when storms and showers of an adverse fortune shall descend,
and beat upon him, and shake in pieces the pitiful fabric of his earthly comforts.
The earth he treads upon is his sole joy and inheritance; and that which
supports his feet, must support his heart also; otherwise he cannot, like
JOB, rest upon that Providence that places him upon a dunghill.
(2.) Such a person, if he does not
faint and sink in adversity, then on the contrary he will murmur and tumultuate,
and blaspheme the GOD that afflicts him. A bold and a stubborn spirit naturally
throws out its malignity this way. It will make a man die cursing and raving,
and even breathe his last in a blasphemy. No man knows how high the corruption
of some natures will work and foam, being provoked and exasperated by affliction.
' Having thus shown the reason why prosperity becomes destructive to some
persons; surely it is now but rational, in some brief directions, to show
how it may become otherwise; and that is, in one word, by altering the quality
of the subject. Prosperity, I showed, was destructive to fools; and therefore
the only way for a man not to find it destructive, is for him not to be a
fool; and this he may avoid by a pious observance of these following rules:
As,
1. Let him seriously consider upon
what weak hinges his prosperity and felicity hangs. Perhaps the cross falling
of a little accident, the omission of a ceremony, or the misplacing of a
circumstance, may determine all his fortunes forever: Or perhaps his whole
interest, his possessions, and his hopes too, may live by the breath of another
who may breathe his last to morrow. And shall a man forget GOD and eternity
for that which cannot secure him the reversion of a day's happiness? Can any
favorite hear himself high and insolent upon the stock of the largest fortune
imaginable, who has read the story of WOLSEY or SEJANUS? Not only the death,
but the honor of his Prince or patron may divest him of all his glories, and
send him stripped and naked to his long rest. How quickly is the sun overcast,
and how often does he set in a cloud, and that cloud break in a storm! He
that well considers this, will account it a surer livelihood to depend upon
the sweat of his own brow, than the favor of another man's. And even while
it is his fortune to enjoy it, he will be far from confidence; confidence,
which is the downfal of a man's happiness, and a
traitor to him in all his concerns; for still it is the confident person who
is deceived.
2. Let a man consider, how little he
is bettered by prosperity as to those perfections which are chiefly valuable.
All the wealth of both the Indies cannot add one cubit to the stature either
of his body or his mind. It can neither better his health, advance his intellectuals,
nor refine his morals. We see those languish and die, who command the physic
and physicians of a whole kingdom. And some are dunces in the midst of libraries,
dull and sottish in the very bosom of Athens; and
far from wisdom, though they lord it over the wise.
For does he, who was once both poor
and ignorant, find his notions or his manners any thing improved, because
perhaps his friend or father died and left him rich? Did his ignorance expire
with the other's life? Or does he understand one proposition in philosophy,
one mystery in his profession at all the more, for his keeping a bailiff
or a steward? As great and as good a landlord as he is, may he not for all
this have an empty room yet to let? And that such an one as is like to continue
empty upon his hands (or rather head) for ever? If so, surely then none has
cause to value himself upon that which is equally incident to the worst and
weakest of men.
And Lastly, Let a man correct the gaieties
and wanderings of his spirit, by the severe duties of mortification. "
Let him (as DAVID says) mingle his drink with weeping," and dash his
wine with such water. Let him effect that upon himself by fasting and abstinence,
which GOD would bring others to by penury and want. And by so doing, he shall
disenslave and redeem his soul from a captivity
to the things he enjoys, and so make himself lord, as well as possessor of
what he has. For repentance supplies the disciplines of adversity; and abstinence
makes affliction needless, by really compassing the design of it upon the
nobler account of choice: The scarceness of some meals will sanctify the plenty
of others.
The wisest persons in the world have
often abridged themselves in the midst of their greatest affluence, and given
bounds to their appetites, while they felt none in their fortunes. And that
Prince who wore sack does under his purple, wore the livery of virtne,
as well as the badge of sovereignty; and was resolved to be good, in spite
of all his greatness. Many other considerations may be added, and these farther
improved. But to sum up all in short; since folly is so bound up in the heart
of man, and since the fool in his best, that is in his most prosperous condition,
stands tottering upon the very brink. of destruction, surely the great
use of the whole foregoing discourse should be
to remind us in all our prayers, not so much to solicit GOD for any temporal
enjoyment, as for an heart that may fit us for it; and that GOD would be the
Chooser, as well as the Giver of our portion in this world; who alone is able
to suit and sanctify our condition to us, and us to our condition.
SERMON 9
ON THE RESTORATION OF KING CHARLES 2:
PREACHED AT WESTMINSTER ABBEY, ON THE
29TH MAY, 1672.
ROMANS 2:33, latter part.
How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past
finding out!
THAT which first brought a present
guilt, and entailed a future curse upon mankind, was an inordinate desire
of knowledge. And from the fall of ADAM to this very day, this fatal itch
has stuck so close to our nature, that every one
of his succeeding race is infinitely eager, inquisitive, and desirous to know
and judge, where he is called only to adore, and to obey. By which we see,
that it was this restless appetite of knowing, which made the earliest and
boldest encroachment upon the divine prerogative; setting man up not only
as a rebel, but also as a rival to his Maker; and from behaving himself as
his creature, encouraging him to become his competitor. And could there be
an higher and more direct defiance of the ALMIGHTY, under the peculiar character
of LORD and Governor of the universe, than a pitiful, shortsighted creature,
prying into the reserves of heaven; and one who was but dust in his constitution,
and of a day's standing at most, aspiring to an equality with his Creator
in one of his divinest perfections? All know, that even in human governments,
there is hardly any one of them, but has its Arcana
imperii, its hidden rules and maxims, which the
subjects of it must by no means be acquainted with, but yield to their force,
without examining their contrivance. And if so, how much a more unpardonable
absurdity, as well as insolence, must it needs be for those, who commonly
stand at so great a distance, even from the little mysteries of human policies,
to say, like their grand exemplar and counsellor
Lucifer, " 1 will ascend and look into the secrets of the most High,"
rip up and unravel all the designs and arts of Providence in the government
of the world; as if, (forsooth) they were of the cabinet to the ALMIGHTY,
were privy to all his decrees, and, in a word, held intelligence with his
omniscience. For no less than all this was or could be implied in our first
parents' affecting to be as Gods; the main thing, which, by advice of the
serpent, they were then so set upon, and so furiously desirous of.
Whereas, on the contrary, that great
repository of all truth and wisdom, the Scripture, is in nothing more full
and frequent, than in representing the infinite transcendency of GOD's ways and
actings above all created intellectuals. " Such knowledge
is too wonderful for me," says DAVID. (Psal.
cxxxviii. 6.) " And thy judgments are a great
deep." (Psal. xxxvi. 6.) And GOD " has
put darkness under his feet." (Psal. 18: 9.)
And " his ways are in the great waters, and his footsteps are not known."
(Psal. lxxvii. 19.) In
all which passages could any thing be expressed with more life and emphasis?
For he who treads upon the waters leaves no impression; and he who walks in
the dark falls under no inspection. There is still a cloud, a thick cloud,
about GOD's greatest and most important works; and a cloud (we know)
is both high and dark, it surpasses our reach, and determines our sight; we
may look upon it, but it is impossible for us to look through it. In a word,
if we consult either the reports of Scripture, or of our own experience, about
the wonderful, amazing events of Providence, especially in the setting up,
or pulling down of Kings and kingdoms, transplanting churches, destroying
nations, and the like; we shall find the result of our closest reasonings,
and most
exact inquiries, concluding in an humble non plus, and silent submission
to the over powering truth of this exclamation of our Apostle, "How unsearchable
are his judgments, and his ways past finding out."
The glorious subject of this day's
commemoration, is an eminent instance of the methods of Providence surpassing
all human apprehension: And as it is a very great one itself, so was it brought
forth by a numerous train of other providential passages altogether as great,
whether we respect the quality of the actions themselves, or the strangeness
of the effects. My business, therefore, shall be, from so notable a theme,
to read men a lecture of humility; and that in a case, in which they seldom
do (and yet have all the reason in the world to) show it; to wit, in taking
a due estimate of the proceedings of Almighty GOD, especially in his winding
and turning about the great affairs of states and nations; and therein to
demonstrate, what weak, purblind expositors we are of what is above us; how
unfit to arraign and pass sentence upon that Providence, that overrules us
in all our concerns; and, in a word, to turn interpreters, where we understand
not the original. It is, no doubt, an easy matter to gaze upon the surface
and outside of things. But few, who see the hand of the clock or dial, can
give a reason of its motion; nor can the case of the watch, (though never
so finely wrought,) be any rule to judge of the artificial composure, and
exact order of the work within.
Now, he who would pass a clear, firm,
and thorough judgment upon any action, must be able to give an account of
these two things belonging to it, viz. 1. From what cause or reason it proceeds.
2. To what event or issue it tends. In both which respects I shall demonstrate,
that the sublimest wisdom of man is an incompetent
judge of the ways of GOD.
1. And, First, For the reason or cause
of them. Men are so far from judging rightly of the passages of Providence,
that the causes they assign of them are for the most part false, but always
imperfect. (1.) And, First, For the false ones; these (or some of them at
least) are such as follow:
[1] That the prosperous in this life
are the proper objects of GOD's love, and the calamitous
of his hatred A blessed doctrine doubtless, and exactly according to that
of MAHOMET, even the very marrow and spirit of the Alcoran, and the prime article, or rather sum total of the
Ottoman Divinity. But such, we see, is the natural aptness of men to bring
down GOD to their own measures, and to ascribe only those methods to him,
which they first transcribe and copy from themselves. For they know well
enough, how they treat one another, and that all the hostility of a man's
actions pre supposes and results from a much greater in his affections; so
that the hand is never lifted up to strike, but as it is commanded by the
heart that hates. And accordingly, let any notable calamity befal
any one, (and especially if maligned by us,) and then how naturally do there
start up, in the minds of such Mahometan Christians,
such reasonings as these: Can so beneficent a being as GOD be imagined
to torment in love? To kill with kindness? Or, does the noise of his blows,
and the sounding of his bowels, speak the same thing?
No, by no means; and therefore, when any one chances
to be cut off by the stroke of some severe Providence, no sooner has GOD done
execution, but the malice of men presently passes sentence, and, by a preposterous
proceeding, the man is first executed, and afterwards condemned; and so dies
not for being a criminal, but passes for a criminal for being put to death.
Many remarkable instances of which
have been in the late times of confusion, in direct contradiction to the SPIRIT
of GOD himself, who positively, in Eccles. 9: 1, assures us, that no man knows
either love or hatred, by all that is before him;" nor consequently can
conclude himself in favor, or out of favor with Almighty GOD, by anything
befalling him in this life; indeed, no more than he can read the future estate
of his soul in the line of his face, or the constitution of his body in the
color of his clothes.
For should the quality of a man's condition
here determine the happiness or misery of it hereafter, no doubt LAZARUS would
have been in the flames, and the rich man in ABRAHAM's bosom. But the next life will open us a very different
scene from what we see in this; and show us quite another face of things and
persons from that which dazzles and deludes men's eyes at present; it being
the signal and peculiar glory of the day of judgment, that it be the great
day of distinction, as well as retribution. But in the mean time, does not
common experience undeniably convince us, that GOD sometimes curses men, even
with prosperity, confounds them in the very answer of their prayers, and
(as it were) choaks them with their own petitions?
Does he not, as he did formerly to the Israelites, at the same time put flesh
into their craving mouths, and send leanness withal into their souls? And
is there any thing more usually practiced in the world, than for men to feast
their mortal enemies? Persons, whom they equally hate, and are hated by? While
on the other side, as a father chides, frowns upon and lashes the child whom
he dearly loves, (his bowels all the time yearning, while his hand is striking,)
so how common is it in the methods of divine love, for GOD to cast his JOBS
upon dunghills, to banish into wildernesses, and to sell his most beloved
JOSEPHUS into slavery; and, in a word, to discipline and fit him for himself,
by all that is harsh and terrible to human nature! and still there is nothing
but love and designs of mercy at the bottom of all this. " Thy rod and
thy staff," says DAVID, " comfort me;" (Psal.
xxxiii. 4;) that is with his staff he corrects, but still with both he comforts.
Now though I think it sufficiently
manifest to the impartial and judicious, that neither the suffering of our
Prince, nor his loyal subjects, were any arguments of GOD's hatred of them; yet, I hope, his restoration was an
effect of GOD's love to those poor harassed kingdoms;
I say, I hope so: For our great ingratitude, sensuality, and raging impiety,
ever since our deliverance, makes me far from being confident, that what was
in itself incomparably the greatest of earthly blessings, may not be made
the fatal means to sink us lower, and damn us deeper, than any sins committed
by us under the rod of the usurpers could have done. This is certain, that
God may outwardly deliver us: He may turn our very table into a snare. And
I know no certain mark whereby we may infallibly conclude, that God did the
glorious work, which we celebrate this day, out of love to us, but only, that
we become holier and better by it than before. But if it should prove otherwise,
will it not rank us with the hardened and incorrigible, whose infidelity such
miracles could not melt down? And having, upon both accounts, done so much
for us to so little purpose, resolve never to do more? And thus much for the
first false cause, commonly assigned of the dealings of GOD'S providence,
namely, GOD'S love or hatred of the persons upon whom they pass.
[2.] But another false cause, from
which men derive the different proceedings of Providence, is the different
merit of the persons so differently treated by it: And from hence still supposing,
that the good only must prosper, and the bad suffer; they accordingly, from
men's prosperity, conclude their innocence, as from their sufferings their
guilt. And from this topic it was, that JOB'S friends argued; and that with
such assurance, that one would have thought, they took all they said for demonstration;
but how falsely and rashly they did so, appears from the verdict passed by
GOD himself upon the whole matter, both rejecting their persons, and condemning
their reasonings, by a severe remark upon the presumption
of the one, and the inconsequence of the other. For where the rule is crooked,
how can the line drawn by it be straight? It is most true, that there is no
man, (our blessed SAVIOR only excepted,) who either does, or ever did suffer,
but was more or less a sinner, before he was a sufferer: And consequently,
that there is ground enough in every man, to make GOD's infliction of the greatest evil upon him just; and
yet I affirm, that a man's sin is not always the reason of his sufferings,
though sinfulness be still the qualification of his person: But the reason
of those must be fetched from some other cause. For the better understanding
of which, we must observe, that GOD may, and sometimes actually does, deal
with men under a double capacity or relation; viz. 1. As an absolute LORD;
and 2. As a Judge or a Governor. The rule, which he proceeds by as an absolute
LORD, is his sovereign will and pleasure; and the rule which he acts by as
Judge, is his justice and his law. Now, though under the former notion GOD
does not properly exercise or exert his justice, yet he cannot therefore be
said to do any thing unjustly; it being one thing for GOD barely not to exercise
an attribute in such or such a particular action, and another to oppose, or
do any thing contrary to the said attribute. The former of which is usual,
and fairly agreeable with the economy of his attributes, but the latter is
impossible.
Yet in the various dispensations befalling
the sons of men, we find, how prone the world has been all along, to state
the different usages of men's persons upon the difference of their deserts.
As when PILATE mingled the Galileans' blood with their sacrifices, there were
enough ready to conclude those poor Galileans sinners above all other Galileans,
for their suffering such things; but our SAVIOR quickly reverses the sentence,
and assures them, that the consequence was by no means good. (Luke 13: 1,
2.) And on the other hand, the Israelites, from the many miraculous works
done for them, and blessings heaped upon them by the Divine bounty, concluded
themselves holier and more righteous than all the nations about them; but
we find both MOSES in Deut. 9:, and the Psalmist in Psalm lxxviii.,
roundly telling them, that there was no such thing, but that they were a "
rebellious, ungrateful, stiff necked people" from the very first: And
for aught appears from history to the contrary, theyhave
continued so ever since. And to proceed farther, did not the righteous Providence
of GOD bring down most of the potentates of the Eastern World under the feet
of that monster of tyranny and idolatry, NEBUCHADNEZZAR; and that while he
was actually reigning in his sins, with as high an hand, as he did or could
do over any of those poor kingdoms, who had been conquered or enslaved by
him? In like manner, did not the same Providence make most of the crowns and
sceptres of the earth bend to the Roman yoke? the
greatness of which empire was certainly founded upon as much injustice, rapine,
and violence, as could well be practiced by men; though still couched and
carried oil under the highest pretence of justice and honor, (set off with
the greatest show of gravity besides,) even while the said pretences in the
sight of the whole world were impudently outfaced by the quite contrary practices;
as appears in particular from that scandalous case of the Mamertines,
and the assistance they gave those thieves and murderers, against all the
laws of nations and humanity itself, only to serve a present interest against
the Carthaginians. And lastly, what a torrent of success attended the Turks,
till they had overrun most of the earth, and the whole Greek Church and empire?
And yet the notorious governing qualities, which these barbarians acted, and
grew up by, both in war and peace, were the height of cruelty and treachery;
qualities of all other the most abhorred by GOD and man, and such as we may
be sure could never induce GOD to abandon so great a part of CHRISTENDOM (which
yet in his judgment he has actually done) to so base a people, and so false
a religion. And now, notwithstanding such flagrant examples of thriving impiety,
carrying all before it, we see how apt the world is still to make Providence
steer by man's merit. And as we have instances of this in nations, so we want
not the like in particular persons.
But should Providence at any time strip
a man of his estate, his honor, or high place, must this presently stamp him
a castaway; or rather teach us, that GOD who perfectly knew the temper and
circumstances of the man, knew also that a mean and a low condition would
place him nearer to heaven (as much a paradox as it may seem) than the highest
and most magnificent? Another man perhaps is snatched away by a sudden, or
untimely, a disastrous, or ignominious death; but must I therefore pass sentence
upon him out of DANIEL, or the Revelations, or charge him with some secret
guilt, as the cause of it; as if the fever or an apoplexy were not sufficient,
without the concurring plague and poison of a malicious tongue, to send a
man packing out of this world; or, as if any death could be so violent, or
distemper so mortal and malign, but that it may, and does carry some into
a better world, as well as others into a worse? But be the course of Providence
never so unaccountable, and contrary to my notions, ought I to descant upon
any act of it, while I am wholly ignorant of the purpose which directed it?
Or shall I confess the ways of GOD to be G6 unsearchable, and past finding
out," and at the same time attempt to give a reason of them, and so to
the arrog