Chapter I: FIRST, Infidelity may proceed from the Pride of Reason (5)

2. A graver set of men come next, and tell us, “That _fashion_ is indeed a very uncertain guide of life: But that LAW, the result of the public wisdom, armed with the public force, is an adequate rule of human action; that the legislator’s province is to enact such salutary laws, and the magistrate’s duty, to carry them into execution, as shall be sufficient to secure the peace and order of society; And that every other rule of life is at once unnecessary and ineffectual: _unnecessary_, because the interests of virtue are amply provided for by the wisdom of law; and _ineffectual_, because no other principle has force enough to exact obedience: That, in particular, _the fear of God_ is too remote a consideration to restrain the tumultuous passions of men, which are held in subjection by nothing but the instant terrors of civil justice; in a word, that where the law of the state is duly enforced, there is no need of other restraints; and that, lastly, to lay a stress on _the religious principle_ is to weaken the operation of law, as it opens a door to fanaticism and superstition.”

This plea of the politician receives an apparent force from this certain truth, That law is indeed of indispensable necessity, and that the general virtue and happiness of a people cannot be maintained without it. We join him therefore very cordially in this encomium on civil justice; but must remind him, withal, that neither is the religious principle superseded by it, nor can civil justice itself maintain its due course, without the support of the religious principle: That, when the authority of law has done its best, there will be much for religion to controul and regulate; _much_, that is not within the reach of law, and without its jurisdiction: That _the fear of the Lord_ penetrates deeper and farther, than the sword of the magistrate; and that, even within his own province, all his policy and all his power will take a very imperfect effect, without the concurrence of a higher principle; as he himself is abundantly convinced from the necessity of fortifying his own most important constitutions, by the religion of an oath; which is nothing else but an appeal to the fear of God, under a sense of its being a needful supplement to the fear of the magistrate.

Yet society, they say, is entirely upheld by the authority of law; at least, the world may go on very well, by virtue of that only. Yes; It may go on, as we see it does, full of open violence, which all its terrors cannot restrain; and of secret frauds, for which it cannot so much as project a remedy: It may go on, indeed, but polluted by vices of all sorts, which are not the objects of law, and even by crimes, which are often too strong for it: It may go on indeed, till the religious principle be quite effaced from the minds of men (if we may have leave for a moment, to put so desperate, and, thank God, so impossible a case); but, when that dreadful time comes, society itself, with all its bulwark of laws, must inevitably be swept away with it.

Universal history bears testimony to this awful truth; there being no account of any state on the face of the earth, which could ever support itself in general virtue, or general happiness, by the mere force of its civil institutions. And how should it be otherwise, when the fear of God is requisite to enforce the law, as well as to observe it; to supply the state with faithful magistrates, as well as with obedient subjects?

If then this vital principle of religion, so necessary to the conservation of all states, cannot be kept free from some mixture of fanaticism or superstition, we are surely to endure the inconvenience, as we can, rather than put the interests of society to hazard by suspending them all on the weak and false supports of an irreligious policy.

3. Lastly, the PHILOSOPHER’S plea, though specious at first sight, is of all others the weakest. For _fashion_, if it chance to be on the side of virtue, will be punctually followed: And the sword of the _magistrate_ can, in part, at least, enforce obedience. But what coercive power is there in _philosophy_? It may see and determine right: but who, or what shall compell this supreme directress of life to observe its own determinations? “The fitness, it may be said, of those determinations themselves; the very reason of the thing being the proper restraint of reasonable natures.” Still the question returns, What if I am disposed to throw off this restraint? I act against conviction, indeed, and am self-condemned, which to a liberal mind is no small punishment. But look into the world, and see if that punishment be sufficient to induce the bulk of mankind, nay the gross body of philosophers themselves, _to depart from evil_.

And what, after all, is this magnified reason? One man admits no other rule of life but _abstract truth_, or what he calls _the differences of things_: Another, will hear of none, but an instinctive _moral sense_: And a third, entrenches himself within the narrow circle of _private happiness_. These several systems have been laid down, each in its turn, as the only proper basis of moral action: But could the patrons of them be made to agree in any one; or could their several schemes be made, as perhaps they might, to consist together: still, they could only serve to acquaint us what the nature of virtue is; they do but slenderly provide for the practice of it.

Let the philosophers, then, debate this matter among themselves. It is enough for _us_ to learn of Solomon, _to fear God_: To fear HIM, who is everywhere and essentially present; who is conscious to all our actions and all our thoughts; from whose knowledge there is no escape, from whose justice there is no appeal, and to whose power there is no hope, or possibility of resistance.

With this principle, an unquestioned principle of reason, if there be any, deeply rooted in the mind, we have indeed an adequate rule of life; or, what is better, a controuling motive to put in practice whatever rule of life we chuse to follow. Moral systems, taken by themselves, are poor ineffective things; even virtue’s self is but a name, till the religious principle be infused into her. Then it is, that she lives and acts, and by her powerful influence inclines the hearts of men _to depart from evil_.

Nor let any man apprehend that this religious fear will degrade, or servilize his virtue. To be free from sin, and only the servants of God, is the truest and noblest liberty.

Dismissing, then, all other rules of life, let us adhere to that, which Solomon prescribes to us. It had been venerable from any hands, but comes with an extraordinary grace and propriety from HIM, who delivers it. So that none of the parties, concerned in this discourse, can excuse themselves from paying a peculiar deference to his judgment.

1. The MEN OF THE WORLD can have no pretence for declining this determination. The author of it is no obscure sordid moralist, whose views of life are confined to a cloyster or a cottage. He addresses them from the throne of Israel, when it was the pride of the East; and from the center of a court, which he had made the envy of the surrounding nations. The followers of fashion will then act but agreeably to their own principles, if they respect the example of such a court, and the authority of its sovereign.

2. The POLITICIANS will reflect, that their instructor is himself a great magistrate, consummate in the arts of government; who yet could find no secret, but that of _the fear of God_, by which he could reign securely himself, or promote the real welfare and prosperity of his people. With what complacency do they sometimes urge a political aphorism, taken from Aristotle! _But a greater than_ Aristotle _is here_.

3. Lastly, to you, the sages of the world, who are, or account yourselves PHILOSOPHERS, nothing can be so respectable to you, as the authority of ONE, whose name is the name itself of wisdom; of ONE, who, like you, _had given his heart to know wisdom_[245]; who had an understanding, at least, equal to yours, and an experience of life, far greater. Yet even HE delivers it, as the result of all his knowledge, _That by the fear of the Lord men depart from evil_.

It is indeed this principle only, which gives its proper direction and integrity to every other. It controuls Fashion; supplies the defects of Law; and enforces the conclusions of Reason. It rectifies all our systems, and gives sense and solidity to all our speculations.

To conclude, Let us all be wise enough to reverence the plain doctrine of the text, and to act upon it: The rather, as that doctrine is not only just and reasonable in itself, but proceeds from one, whom the Spirit of God had been pleased to inform with celestial wisdom.

SERMON XLVIII.

PREACHED MAY 31, 1772.

1 COR. vi. 12.

_All things are lawful unto me; but all things are not expedient: All things are lawful for me; but I will not be brought under the power of any._

It would be taking up too much of your time, and of this discourse, to explain minutely the occasion of these words, and the connexion they have with the general argument of this chapter. Let it suffice to say, that they are introduced as an answer to something which the Corinthian Christians did, or might alledge for their neglect of the instructions, given them by the Apostle. We may conceive them to speak to this effect—“What you enjoin us so strictly to avoid, is not one of those practices which can be deemed unlawful: it is not, as we conceive, condemned by the law of nature, certainly, not by the law of that society to which we belong. Now in matters of this kind, there is no need of advice or direction: the things being indifferent in themselves, we may do as we please, and we are disposed, in the present case, to make use of our Christian liberty.”

To this plea, or suggestion, the Apostle replies in the text: “Admitting, says he, the truth of what ye alledge for yourselves, it does not follow that I may not properly and usefully direct your conduct, in the present case. For suppose that _all things are lawful to me, all things are not expedient_: And, again, _though all things are lawful to me, I will not be brought under the power of any_.”

St. Paul, you see, does not stay to consider whether the things forbidden to the Corinthians, were _lawful_ or not (though possibly they might mistake in that assumption, as licentious or thoughtless people, we know, every day do) but, be this as it may, he insists that he had reason to lay them under some restraint even in _lawful_ things, because the practice of such things was inexpedient, in many respects; And because, if all other considerations might be overlooked, it is enough that an unrestrained indulgence in them begets slavish habits, and would, in the end, destroy, or very much impair, their moral freedom.

Of the words, thus far opened, I propose to make this use; to dissuade you from giving a full scope to the pursuit even of innocent pleasures; and that, from the two considerations, expressed in the text:

I. That such devotion of ourselves to them is, on many other accounts, hurtful and improper—_all things are not expedient_: And

II. That, in particular, it violates the dignity of human nature, by taking from us, or weakening to a great degree, that manly authority of reason, that virtuous self-command, which we should always retain, and be in a condition to exert, even in indifferent matters—_I will not be brought under the power of any_.

1. Wealth and prosperity have a natural tendency to alter, that is, in the language of moralists, to _corrupt_, the public manners. Hence it is that the old English habits of plainness, industry, and frugality, are, now, exchanged for those of indulgence, dissipation, and expence. All the elegant accommodations of life have an unusual stress laid upon them; and there seems to be a general effort to advance them all to the last degree of refinement. The superfluous, which we call the fine arts, excite an universal admiration, and administer, in ten thousand ways, to a luxurious, which, again, takes the name of a polite, indulgence. Hence, society, which used to fill only the vacant intervals of business, is now become the _business_ of life; and yet is found insipid (so insatiable is the love of dissipation) if it be not, further, quickened by amusements. These have multiplied upon us so prodigiously, that they meet us at every turn, and in every shape; nay, are grown so common, that they would almost lose the name of amusements, if every possible art were not employed to give a poignancy to them, and if fashion, after all, more than the pleasure they afford, did not support the credit of them. As the last resource of the weary disappointed mind, we have found means to interest our keenest passions in one species of amusement, which is therefore called _play_, by way of eminence; and is become the favourite one, because the most violent: just as the hottest cordials succeed to the free use of strong liquors.

In this state of things (a very alarming one, in all views) nothing threatens the utter ruin of the little virtue, that is left among us, so much, as the general persuasion, that such pursuits may be indulged to any degree, because they are commonly acknowledged to be _lawful_. Here, then, the distinction of the Apostle comes in very seasonably, and may, one would hope, be pressed on the lovers of pleasure, with some effect. We may question, it seems, the _expediency_ of these pursuits, how indifferent soever they be in their own nature; and a little reflexion will shew that they are, indeed, _inexpedient_, that is, unprofitable, unadvisable, improper, in a great variety of respects.

I do not suppose, at present, that the expence of them is ruinous to those, who devote themselves to these pleasures (for then they would plainly not be _lawful_ to such persons); but consider, if you can afford to pay the price of them ever so well, they take up too much of your time: abundantly too much, if you have any profession to follow, or to prepare yourselves for, as most men have; but too much, if you have not, because it might, and should be employed on better things.

Then, of the little time, they leave to yourselves, they disable you, in some degree, for making the proper use. For they dissipate the attention; they relax the nerves of industry and application; they spread a languor over all the faculties, and make the exertion of them, to any valuable purpose, painful at least, if not impossible. We hear it generally observed, that there is a scarcity of able men in all the departments of life. Can it be otherwise, when the vigour of the mind, which should nourish all great and laudable efforts, which is so requisite to push the active powers of invention, or recollection, to their full extent, is wasted on trifles, is checked by frivolous habits, and left to languish under them?

Or say, that you have force of mind enough to elude this so natural effect of dissipation, is it nothing that, by giving your countenance to it, you draw in weaker spirits to make the dangerous experiment? that you help to propagate the enfeebling passion through all quarters, till, from this authorized scene of vanity, the Capital, the contagion spreads (as we see it now does) to the smaller towns, and even to private houses, in the remotest provinces? that you contribute to make respectable I know not what frivolous and worthless arts, and, of course, to multiply the professors of them, to the great discouragement and decay of useful industry? that you hurt the interests of society, by giving an air of importance to the veriest trifles, and by diverting on these the attention, and the passion, that should regularly, and would otherwise, exert themselves on nobler objects?

I might push these questions still further. For I remember what history attests, and what wise men have said, on the chapter of _polite arts and elegant amusements_.

“They tell us, how sad a sign[246] of the times it is, when they grow into general repute among us; that from incessantly indulged appetites (let the object of them be what it will) such an impotence of mind may follow, such a lust of gratification, such an impatience of controuling a predominant fancy, as shall overleap all the fences of discretion and virtue. The dæmon of taste, say they, shall be obeyed, in defiance of every private and public duty, till distress, disgrace, and infamy break in upon us; till we seek the relief of our wants in fraud and rapine, involve the public ruin in our own, and, in the end, rush blindfold, through an extreme of profligacy, to desperation.”

To this effect, and in this tone, have some inveighed against our more refined and elegant _amusements_. But I return to what are commonly known by that name: and with respect to these, allow me to say that the life of man is a serious thing[247]: so serious, that dissolute, I mean, untempered, continued mirth, or pleasure, is not of a piece with it[248]. Our virtue, our hopes, nay, our present happiness depends on keeping the mind in a firm and steady frame. Whatever encroaches on this manliness of temper, is pernicious, and unchristian.

I will indulge the extreme candour to suppose, that, in a constant round of _lawful_ amusements, you do not forget, or intermit your moral and religious duties. But with what spirit are they performed? With disgust, I doubt; but certainly, with indifference. Nor is this the worst. Temptations are to be expected in this life: and in what condition are we to meet them? Nay, we expose ourselves to needless temptation, even in the midst of these _lawful_ pleasures; and we bring no power with us, hardly the inclination, to withstand it. The present scene distracts the mind, and fascinates the senses. And, in this delirium of the whole man, without God in his thought, or heaven in his eye, what wonder if he become the sport, and, almost before he is aware, the victim of every passion!

Still he is not happy in this feverish state: at most, he but forgets himself, for a moment: and the intervals of his amusement, which, in the nature of things, must be many and long, are filled with disgust and languor. Nay, the very amusement wears out by frequent repetition. And then such a sickliness of mind succeeds, and such a weariness of living on in a too much used and exhausted world, as is insupportable and fatal to him[249].

You see then there are many good reasons, which shew the inexpediency of prosecuting even _lawful_ pleasures with an unrestrained passion. But, if all others were away, there is ONE consideration still behind, and of so much weight, that St. Paul scruples not to make a distinct argument of it, and to press it on the Corinthian Christians, as fully decisive of the point in question—_All things are lawful for me; but_ I WILL NOT BE BROUGHT UNDER THE POWER OF ANY—And to unfold this argument is what I proposed to myself

2. _Under the second head of this discourse._

It should be the ambition of every man to preserve the independency of his own mind on all his natural or acquired inclinations. The dignity of his character depends on this supremacy: and his virtue is no longer secure, than while he retains the power, on all occasions, to exert it.

1. The stoical wise man was exposed to much ridicule by taking to himself the name and office of a king. The pretensions were high, no doubt, and the language, something arrogant and ostentatious. But, let the terms, we employ, be what they will, all philosophy, that deserves the name, must agree in this, That to have the command of himself, is the duty, and chief distinction of a wise man[250]. There is, then, a consistency and harmony in his whole conduct. We naturally respect those who give this proof of respecting themselves; and we place an entire confidence in the vigour and uniformity of their character.

Again: though the virtue of self-denial shine out to most advantage in the conquest of ardent passions and violent temptations, its use is not inconsiderable in curbing all the lighter fancies. The reason is, that custom prevails insensibly, and reaches farther than we, at first, intended. By humouring the mind in trifles, we teach it to presume on its own importunity, in greater matters: and it will be found a convenient rule in the management of our passions, as of our children, to refuse a compliance with them, not merely when they ask improper things, but when they ask any thing with impatience.

Even our curiosity, an innocent and useful passion, should be kept within bounds, and not indulged, as we see it is, on every occasion that presents itself to us.

The continence of Scipio has been much and justly applauded. But he went a step too far, in seeing his captive. He triumphed, indeed, over the stronger temptation, but he was not enough on his guard against the weaker: by complying too easily with a frivolous curiosity, he risked the honour of that virtue, which a pagan historian finds so divine in ONE, who was _et juvenis, et cœlebs, et victor_[251].

To apply these reflexions to the case before us. It may seem to be a matter of great indifference, whether we indulge an inclination for _lawful_ amusements, or not. But the dignity of our character is concerned in keeping a strict hand over our inclinations of every sort: and, if it were only for an exercise of self-government, it would be worth the while to moderate, that is, frequently to suspend, the use of a favourite, though innocent gratification. To be enslaved by vicious habits, is the ignominy of a little mind: to be superior to all, is the glory of a great one.

2. But, in truth, there is no security in any case, if we let go this _habit_ of self-government. One compliance inevitably brings on another; and, though we set out with the design of stopping at a certain point, we shall almost fatally be carried much farther. We meant to acquiesce in this, confessedly harmless, indulgence: constant use makes it insipid; and then we venture on one of a suspicious character. Being now on the confines of vice, we are easily pushed into that quarter; with some doubt and hesitation, at first; but scruples give way, as the habit strengthens, and all vices being connected with each other, especially all of one sort, we, by degrees, make the trial of all: and thus, from an innocent fancy, or inclination, indulged too freely, at setting out, we slip insensibly, and beside our purpose, into manifest, perhaps universal, dissolution.

So salutary, so divine is the resolution of the Apostle! _All things are lawful for me: but I will not be brought under the power of any._

To interdict amusements, altogether, to the vivacity of youth, would be severe and cynical. They are abundantly too numerous, at present, and too much frequented: but many of them are supposed to be, and some, without doubt, are, in themselves, _lawful_. Of these, only, I am now speaking: and even of these it must be affirmed, that the unrestrained use of them is _not expedient_; as, for the other reasons suggested to you in this discourse, so chiefly, because it degrades the man, and enslaves him.

To conclude; the safe and manly part is, _to be temperate in all things_[252]: to make our pleasures, the occasional relaxation[253] of the mind, and by no means the employment of it: not, perhaps, to affect a total abstinence from them, which the world would account an incivility; but resolutely to forbear all vicious, or but suspected pleasures: and, for the rest, to keep a great deal on this side of what is thought allowable in the use of them.

SERMON XLIX.

PREACHED JULY 5, 1772.

MATTH. v. 38, 39, 40, 41.

_Ye have heared that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil_: but _whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also_: And, _if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloke also_: And _whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain_.

I suppose, if these words had been found in any book whatsoever, except the Bible, no man of sense could have entertained the least doubt of their meaning. But, while one sort of readers think they do honour to God’s word by taking every precept in the most strict and rigid sense, and another, by the same mode of interpretation, hope to dishonour it, we may expect that, between them, the usual rules of criticism will be very little regarded.

The text refers us to a law of Moses, which established the _jus talionis_, or _right of retaliation_[254]. This law, in the main, is consonant to natural equity; was of general use and authority in ancient times; has, with some modification, been adopted by legislators of all times; and was peculiarly fit, or rather necessary, in the Mosaic institute, composed in a very remote age of the world, and addressed to a fierce and barbarous people.

But this, so reasonable law, had undergone a double abuse in our Saviour’s time. What was designed, in the hands of the magistrate, to prevent future injury, was construed into an allowance of private and personal revenge: And, again, what was calculated to prevent great and outrageous injuries, was pleaded in excuse for avenging every injury. The Jews retaliated, at pleasure, on those that offended them, and for the slightest offence.

Our divine Master, then, without derogating from the law, when administered in due form, and on a suitable occasion, applies himself to correct these so gross perversions of it—I _say unto you, that ye resist not evil_—that is, that ye do not retaliate on the person, that does you an injury, in the way of private revenge; or even of a public suit, for small and trivial injuries.

You see, our Lord’s purpose was, to oppose the mild spirit of the Gospel to the rigid letter of the law, or rather to an abusive interpretation of it: And this purpose is declared in three familiar and proverbial sayings, which, together, amount to thus much; “That, when a small or tolerable injury is sustained by any one, either in his person, or property, or liberty, it is far better (and was, thenceforward, to be the law of Christians) to endure patiently that injury, or even to risk a repetition of it, than, by retaliating on the aggressor, to perpetuate feuds and quarrels in the world.”

That such is the meaning of the text, would appear more evidently, if the injuries specified were, further, considered with an eye to the sentiments and circumstances of the Jewish people. _A blow on the cheek_ was, always, an indignity, no doubt; but the sense of it was not inflamed in a Jew by our Gothic notions of honour; though, if it had, the divine Saviour[255] would scarce have advised his followers to extinguish it in the blood of a fellow-citizen: the loss of a _vest_[256], or under garment, was easily repaired, or not much felt, in the cheap and warm country of Judæa: and the _compulsion to attend another_[257], on his occasions, was not much resented by a people, that had been familiarised to this usage by their foreign masters.

But, without scrutinizing the expression farther (which, as I said, is of the proverbial cast, and, therefore, not to be taken strictly) it appears certainly, that the rule enjoined is no more than this, “That we are not to act on the old rigid principle of _retaliation_, but rather to exercise a mutual patience and forbearance, in our intercourse with each other, for the sake of charity and peace.”

Still, it has been asked, whether this rule be a reasonable one, and whether the conduct, it prescribes, be not likely to do more hurt, than good to mankind?

The ground of this question is laid in following considerations:

First, that resentment, being a natural passion, was, without doubt, implanted in us for valuable purposes, and that its proper and immediate use is seen in repelling injuries:

Secondly, That to eradicate, or to suppress this movement of nature, is to dispirit mankind, and to effeminate their character; in other words, to make them unfit for the discharge of those offices, which the good of society requires:

Lastly, That this softness of temper is injurious to the individuals, in whom it is found, as it exposes them to many insults, and much ill usage, which the exertion of a quick and spirited resentment would enable them to avoid:

From all which, conclusions are drawn very unfavourable to the doctrine of the text, and to the honour of our divine Master. It will, then, be proper to give the premises a distinct and careful examination. And,

I. _The use of the natural passion of resentment is not superseded by the law of Jesus._ For the legitimate use of this passion is to quicken us in repelling such injuries as would render human life wholly burthensome and uneasy to us, not of those petty affronts and discourtesies which afflict us much less by being dissembled and forgiven, than by being resented and returned. Now Christianity does not require us to renounce the right of nature in repelling injuries of the former class. The law in question, as explained by our Lord himself, does not, we have seen, import thus much: and for the rest, the appeal is open to the principles of nature and common sense—_Why even of yourselves judge ye not what is right[258]?_ The practice of the Apostles (the best comment on the law) shews, too, that, on certain critical and urgent occasions[259], they scrupled not to take advantage of those principles. So that universally, as it would seem, where the ends of self-preservation, or of prepollent public utility, require and justify resistance in other men, there it is left free for Christians, likewise, to _resist evil_; the purpose of their divine legislator being, in this instance, to explain the law of nature, and to guard it from the abuse of our hasty passions, not to abrogate, or suspend it.

If any case be excepted from the general permission, it is that of _persecution for the sake of his religion_. And possibly this exception was made in the early days of Christianity, to afford a striking proof to the world that this religion owed its success to the divine protection only, and not to the power of men. Accordingly, the command given in that case has an extraordinary, that is, a suitable, promise[260], annexed to it. But the end of God’s special providence having been answered, and the prophecies accomplished[261], by the patience of the saints under the fiery trial of persecution in those days (whence the miraculous establishment of our religion is evinced) it seems allowable to suppose that the Christian world was, thenceforth, in this, as in other instances, to conduct itself by the ordinary rules and principles of human wisdom; provided that the object of that wisdom be necessary _self-defence_, and not dominion, or revenge, which, in all the forms of either, Christianity forbids and reprobates.

But be this as it may, in cases where religion is not concerned, it seems clear that Christians are left at liberty to repell intolerable oppressions by all those means, which human wisdom dictates. And there is no need of drawing the line very exactly between _tolerable_ and _intolerable_ injuries, because the aggressor, knowing the force of instinctive passion, has reason, always, to fear, that it will begin to operate too soon, rather, than too late.

The apprehension, then, that the proper use of the natural passion, “_resentment of injuries_”, is likely to be defeated by the patient genius of the Gospel, is weakly entertained: While, on the other hand, every one must see the convenience of putting this fiery sentiment of indignation under some restraint, and of interdicting the exertion of it in cases, to which so violent a remedy is ill and hurtfully applied.

But

II. It is said, that this doctrine of the Gospel tends to _dispirit and effeminate mankind_, and to _render Christians unfit for many offices, which society requires of them_.

What these offices are, one does not readily conceive, since it is allowed that _evil may be resisted_, when it becomes excessive, that is, when it is worth resisting. But, I suppose, the objectors mean, this patient spirit of Christianity damps the vigour with which it is for the interest of men in society that their civil rights should be asserted, or a foreign enemy repelled: they think, in short, it makes _bad citizens_, and _worse soldiers_.

Now to the FORMER charge I reply, that it only tends to check, or prevent, the turbulent, the factious, the seditious spirit of any community (which is surely doing it no hurt) while, at the same time, it allows men to assert their essential civil interests by every reasonable exertion of firmness and courage; nay, inculcates those principles of a disinterested love for mankind, and what is properly called a public spirit, which make it their duty to do so. And they will not do it with the less effect, for waiting till the provocation given appear to all men to be without excuse. _The fury of a patient man_, is almost proverbial: and particularly, in this case, it is to be expected that, when the natural incitement to resistance, long repressed and moderated, comes at length to be authorised by necessity, and quickened by sense of duty, it will act with a force and constancy, not a little formidable to those against whom it is directed. There is no danger, then, that _true patriotism_ should suffer by the meek principles of the Gospel of peace.

As to the OTHER charge of their weakening the _military spirit_, it must be owned again, they would render wars less frequent than they now are, and less destructive—forgive Christianity this wrong—but, when the necessity of self-defence (the only justifiable ground of war) is real and instant, I know not, why the Christian prince, or Christian soldier, should want courage, because he had given proof of this equitable forbearance; or, that either will be likely to do his duty the worse, for knowing that what he does, _is_ his duty.

And, if we appeal to fact, it is enough known, that the Christian soldiery have been no disgrace to their profession; no, not even then, when the unresisting spirit was at its height, I mean, in the early days of our religion. Christians had many good reasons for not being forward to serve in the Roman armies; but some of them did serve there; without doubt, when they were released from such military obligations and observances, as they esteemed idolatrous: Nay, it appears, that the number of Christian soldiers was, on some occasions, considerable: Yet we no where find, that these patient men misbehaved themselves in a day of action; or, that they threw away their swords, when they had said their prayer.

And I give this instance of bravery in the primitive Christians, the rather, because it cannot be imputed to a _fanatic spirit_, which is able, we know, to controul any principles: It cannot, I say, be imputed to a fanatic spirit, because religion was not the object of those wars, in which they were engaged: They were left, then, to the proper influence of their own principles; which at that time had their full effect upon them, and yet did not prevent them from acting with the true spirit of their profession, that is, with a full sense of the duty imposed upon them by their engagements to the state.

With regard to the _publick_, then, there is no reason to think that our Lord’s injunction will disserve it, in any respect.

III. The last, and most plausible objection to the conduct prescribed in the text, is, “That the tame spirit, it discovers, is injurious to _individuals_, and only serves to provoke much insult and ill usage, which a quick resentment and return of injuries would prevent.”

This is the common plea, and passes with many for a full justification, of that false honour, which predominates in the world, but is equally frivolous with the other pretences, already confuted.

For,

1. It is taken up on a groundless and mistaken notion, that the unfriendly and malevolent passions are the most natural to mankind. On the contrary, man is by nature, kind and generous; proud and vindictive, indeed, if stimulated by ill treatment, but prompted, again, by that very pride, to relent at the appearance of gentleness and submission in the party offending; and easily disposed to lay aside the thoughts of revenge, when no obstinate resistance seems to make it necessary. There are, certainly, few persons, at least in civilized life, of so base a temper, as to insult others, and much less to insult them the more, for their gentle inoffensive manners. Or, if such monsters there be, they will soon become detestable in society; while the objects of their unprovoked fury find an asylum in the general good-will and favour of mankind.

They, therefore, who pretend that the world cannot be kept in order, but by resentment and revenge, will do well to make trial of the opposite conduct, before they have recourse to so boisterous a remedy. They will probably find, that _only by_ PRIDE _cometh contention_[262], and that they have injured their species, in thinking otherwise.

2. Let it be remembered, that the Gospel neither forbids us to take the benefit of the laws in cases, where the injury is considerable, nor to resist, without law, in extreme cases; besides, that our corrupt nature will often get the better of _principle_, I mean, when the provocation is not of that size, as to justify either remedy. Whence it follows, that brutal force and malignity will lie under many restraints, and will rarely be encouraged by the passive temper of a conscientious Christian, to proceed to such lengths, as the objection supposes. But,

3. Lastly, and principally, we should call to mind, that, though some ungenerous dispositions should take advantage of our dissembling smaller injuries, to repeat, or even increase them, till they come at length to the utmost verge of what we call _tolerable_ injuries, yet it does not follow, from such inconvenience, that the law is to be accounted inexpedient. For the law has a general end in view, the good of society at large, or of the individual: And the law is a proper one, if the end be commonly and for the most part attained by the conduct prescribed, though with some exceptions.

That the lawgiver foresaw the possibility of such exceptions, is clear from the language, employed by him. If a blow _on one cheek_ be patiently received, it may be succeeded by a blow _on the other_: if we suffer our _coat_ to be taken away, our _cloke_ may follow it: and if we make no resistance to the requisition of going _one mile_, we may be compelled to go _two_. The inconvenience, then, is supposed and admitted in the law itself; but it was seen not to be of moment enough to evacuate the law. Generally speaking, it will be better to bear the inconvenience, than to violate the law; better for the injured party himself, but certainly better for society, at large.

We are certain, that the law will operate this effect, because the lawgiver is, by supposition, divine. He, who knew _what was in man_, what his nature, and true interest, is, could not mistake in adapting the law to the subject of it. And then, for the _exceptions_, he has it in his power to make amends for those, and to recompense fully, as he engages to do, any sacrifice we make to conscience, acting within the scope and purpose of the law.

So that, on the whole, it is but a just deference to the law, and to the authority of the lawgiver, to abstain from _resisting evil_, according to the true sense and spirit of the command, though, by so doing, we subject ourselves to some, nay to much inconvenience. For he must be slenderly instructed in the school of Christ, who is yet to learn, that greater sacrifices, than these, must be made, if need be, for the sake of _him who died for us_.

Enough, I hope, has been now said, not only to vindicate the sacred text, but to let you see how repugnant the doctrine of it is to that contentious, vindictive, and even sanguinary spirit, which prevails so much among those, who, by a strange abuse of language, call themselves Christians.

The root of this mischief, is, a pride of heart, nourished in us by an ill-directed education, and fostered, through life, by the corrupt customs and maxims of the world. To counteract this inveterate evil, we shall do well to consider who and what we are; weak, infirm, and sinful creatures, who are provoking Heaven every day, and should not therefore resent it much, if we receive but little respect from men. We should consider, too, that we are the followers of HIM, who suffered every indignity without deserving any, and yet requires no more from us, than he practised himself, and for our sakes.

Such considerations will make us humble and meek and placable; ready to forgive, as we hope to be forgiven; and disposed to make allowance for those defects in others, which we have so much reason to lament in ourselves.

Still, if we find the duty, of _not resisting evil_, painful and uneasy to us, let us be careful to avoid the occasions, which require the exercise of it. A prudent Christian (and Christianity excludes not, nay enjoins, prudence) will rarely be put to this trial of his virtue. We bring an insult on ourselves by indiscreet liberties, by offensive actions or rash expressions; and then, rather than retract a folly, we commit a crime.

After all, the most cautious, inoffensive conduct may not exempt us, in every instance, from discourtesies and affronts, from the petulance or injustice of unreasonable men. In this case the authority of our divine Master must controul the movements of nature. We must resolve to endure what we dare not resist; and, for the rest, may assure ourselves, that, in giving this proof of our Christian temper and principles, we do what is perfectly fit and right in itself, is singularly conducive to the good of society, and, whatever our impatient passions may suggest, will contribute more than any resistance, to our own true enjoyment, even in this world.

SERMON L.

PREACHED MAY 14, 1775.

LUKE ix. 26.

_Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he shall come in his own glory and in his Father’s, and of the holy Angels._

If we compare this text with the parallel one of St. Mark[263], it will seem probable that it more immediately concerned the Jews; who, in consequence of their being _ashamed_ of Christ, and rejecting him, as their Messiah, should themselves be covered with shame, and be rejected by him from being his people, when he came to take vengeance of their crimes in the destruction of Jerusalem. In this view, the words are prophetical of what should, and, in fact, did, befall the _unbelieving Jews_ of that age, in which Christ lived; for _before that age was passed, all these things were fulfilled on_ that _adulterous and sinful generation_: were so remarkably fulfilled, that the unbelieving Jews, only, were involved in that calamity, while the Christians, even to a man, as we are told, providentially made their escape from it.

But, though this be the primary sense of the text, we have reason to believe that something further, and still more terrible, was intended by it. For the destruction of Jerusalem was emblematical of that final destruction, which should await all the enemies of Christ in the day of judgment; as we may probably gather from the exaggerated terms in which the prophecy concerning Christ’s coming to judge Jerusalem is delivered, and as we certainly conclude from those passages of scripture, which professedly describe the final day of judgment, when _all that believe not shall be condemned_[264], and concerning which our Lord himself says—_He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth him: the_ WORD _which I have spoken_, THE SAME _shall judge him in the last day_[265].

Whence, you see, we are authorized to take the words of the text in their full force, and to understand them as a general declaration to ALL, who shall be _ashamed of Christ and of his words_, that _of them_ shall Christ, also, _be ashamed_, in the great day of retribution, sublimely expressed by the circumstance of his _coming in his own glory, and in his Father’s, and of the holy Angels_.

To be _ashamed of_ CHRIST, is very intelligible language, and means to disown him for what he claims to be, The Messiah; and to take it for a degradation to us, a reflexion on our own sufficiency and importance, to regard him as our Lord and Saviour. In like manner, to be _ashamed of his_ WORDS, is, to think it beneath us to receive his doctrine, and to observe it: It is to say, or to behave ourselves as if we said, with neglect and scorn, that we will not condescend to be influenced and directed by it.

But how, and in what respects, may we be said to incur the guilt of this charge? in what ways, may we testify to the world that the shame of CHRIST and of his WORDS is predominant in us?

The inquiry, you see, is of the last importance; for this _shame_ of Christ, in whomsoever it prevails, and so far as it prevails, will be repaid in kind, in that day, when he shall _come in glory_, in that day when it so much concerns us to _have boldness_ before him, _in the day of judgment_[266].

To assist you, then, in making this momentous inquiry, permit me to lay before you, gradually and distinctly, the CHIEF of those cases, which appear to me to express, or imply, the existence of this _false shame_; and may therefore let us see whether we are, or not, involved in the guilt of it.

I. They (if any such there be) who reject Christianity on the grounds of a fair impartial inquiry, cannot so properly be said to be _ashamed_ of Christ, as to be _convinced_ that he has no claim to their respect and veneration. For they deny him, they will say, not from a principle of _shame_, or disrespect, but of what they take to be _right reason_.

But then, if any oblique views have influenced their disbelief; if conceit, or vanity, or presumption, has any share in forming their conclusions; if a careless or fastidious neglect of the means, by which they might be better informed, has mixed itself with their inquiries; if they have felt the smallest disposition in themselves to struggle with evidence, or to be concluded by any thing but evidence; if any, or all, of these motives can be imputed to them, they will find themselves liable, more or less, to the charge of the text; and it surely concerns them to see that they stand clear of all such imputations: It concerns them the more, because, if the revelation be divine, the revealer knew what evidence was fit to be given of it, and that the evidence given was sufficient to the conviction of a reasonable inquirer. To the severe scrutiny of their own hearts, the disbelievers on principle are, therefore, referred: and, _if their heart condemn them_ in any degree, let them reflect with awe, that _God is greater than their heart, and knoweth all things_[267].

But, whatever these immaculate unbelievers may have to say for themselves, there are others who have the spots of _shame_ indelibly impressed upon them.

Such were the Jews of old, who rejected Christ, not because they wanted evidence of his mission (for they could not deny, nay they frankly owned, that _he did many miracles_[268]), but because he was the _Son of a Carpenter_[269]; because he was of _Galilee_[270], and dwelt _at Nazareth_; because their _rulers did not believe in him_[271]; because they were afraid of being _put out of their synagogue_[272]; because _they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God_[273]; in plain words, because on one account or other, they were ASHAMED OF HIM.

SUCH, too, in succeeding times, were many of the pagan wise men, who disbelieved, because the doctrine of the cross was _foolishness_ to them[274]; because the Jews, who were the first converts to the faith and the first preachers of it, were, in their eyes, a contemptible people; because the vulgar were generally inclined to believe in him; because his doctrine contradicted and degraded their philosophy; because their pride of reason would not submit to be tutored by the Galilæan; in a word, for a hundred frivolous reasons, which only shewed, that they were ASHAMED OF HIM.

Such, too, in later times (may we affirm without a breach of charity) have been, and are, many of those over-modest men, who know not how to withstand the raillery of prophane scoffers; who think the credit of their parts concerned in rejecting their creed, and applaud themselves for sitting loose to the principles, which they call the prejudices, of their Christian education; who affect to have a religion of their own making, if they have any at all, or, rather, disclaim all regard to religion, on the authority of this or that renowned patriarch of infidelity; to say all, in a word, who have the infirmity, and yet make it a matter of vanity, to be ASHAMED OF JESUS.

Now, of such unbelievers it must be said, that they clearly come within the description of the text; they are _ashamed_ of the Son of man, and yet, perhaps, _glory in their shame_: to what end, let them reflect, when they read on, and find, that of such _shall the Son of man_, in his turn, _be ashamed, when he shall came in his own glory, and in his Father’s, and of the holy Angels_.

II. [1.] Of men _professing_ Christianity, they are most exposed to the censure of the text, who, under a full conviction that Jesus is the Christ, yet, in WORDS, formally disown and reject him. Such was the Apostle Peter, who _thrice denied_ his Lord, though he had not the least doubt of his divine pretensions. And why did he deny him? Because, it lessened him in the eyes of a stranger or two, to have it believed by them, that he was connected with a supposed criminal; because he had not the confidence to bear up against the reproach of a _maid-servant_, who _looked earnestly upon him, and said, This man was, also, with him_. Such was the power, which a false shame had upon this great, and otherwise fervent, disciple of Christ! A memorable instance of human frailty, which should admonish believers to be on their guard against all approaches towards a crime, the less pardonable, because committed against the clear sense of the mind, and almost without temptation.

St. Peter, it is true, might alledge the passion of _fear_, as well as _shame_: he probably thought his life in some danger, and had an eye to his personal safety, as well as credit, when he denied his Master. Yet when he reflected on his unworthy conduct, though under these circumstances of alleviation, he _wept bitterly_, as he had reason to do. What then should they feel, who have not this cloke for their shame? who deny their Lord without any inducement to do so, but the weak apprehension of disgusting some persons, whose sentiments, after all, they do not really adopt, themselves. Yet is this no uncommon case. Men are ashamed to confess with their mouths, what they believe in their hearts; and give themselves airs of a frank libertinism, when they tremble at their own impiety: And all this to be well with a frivolous circle, which they frequent, or to merit the good word of certain fashionable blasphemers.