YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY SERMONS RIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD JOSEPH BUTLER, D.C.L. LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM. OXFORD: AT THE CLAEENDON PEESS. MDCCCLXXIV. F^- /?- (V IncS 1^71 THE PREEACE ^T^HOTJGH it is scarce possible to avoid judging, in -¦- some way or other, of almost every thing which oflfers itself to one's thoughts; yet it is certain, that many persons, from different causes, never exercise their judgment, upon what comes before them, in the way of determining whether it be conclusive, and holds. They are perhaps entertained with some things, not so with others ; they like, and they dis like : but whether that which is proposed to be made out be really made out or not ; whether a matter be stated according to the real truth of the case, seems to the generality of people merely a circumstance of no consideration at all. Arguments are often wanted for some accidental purpose : but proof as such is what they never want for themselves ; for their own satisfaction of mind, or conduct in life. Not to mention the multitudes who read merely for the sake of talking, or to qualify themselves for the world, or some such kind of reasons ; there are, even of the few who read for their own entertainment, and have a real curiosity to see what is said, several, which is prodigious, who have no sort of curiosity to see what is true: I say, curiosity; because it is too obvious to be mentioned, how much that religious and sacred attention, which is due to truth, and to the important question. What is the rule of hfe ? is lost out ofthe world. VI PKEFACE. For the sake of this whole class of readers, for they are of diiferent capacities, different kinds, and get into this way from different occasions, I have often wished, that it had been the custom to lay before people nothing in matters of argument but premises, and leave them to draw conclusions themselves ; which, though it could not be done in all cases, might in many. The great number of books and papers of amuse ment, which, of one kind or another, daily come in one's way, have in part occasioned, and most perfectly fall in with and humour, this idle way of reading and considering things. By this means, time even in solitude is happily got rid of, without the pain of attention : neither is any part of it more put to the account of idleness, one can scarce forbear saying, is spent with less thought, than great part of that wliich is spent in reading. Thus people habituate themselves to let things pass through their minds, as one may speak, rather than to think of them. Thus by use they become satisfied merely with seeing what is said, without going any further. Eeview and attention, and even forming a judgment, becomes fatigue ; and to lay any thing before them that requires it, is putting them quite out of their way. There are also persons, and there are at least more of them than have a right to claim such superiority, who take for granted, that they are acquainted with every thing ; and that no subject, if treated in the manner it should be, can be treated in any manner but what is familiar and easy to them. It is true indeed, that few persons have a right to demand attention ; but it is also true, that nothing can be imderstood without that degree of it, which the very nature of the thing requires. Now morals, considered as a science, concerning which speculative PREFACE. Vll difficulties are daily raised, and treated with regard to those difficulties, plainly require a very peculiar^ attention. For here ideas never are in themselves determinate, but become so by the train of reasoning and the place they stand in ; since it is impossible that words can always stand for the same ideas, even in the same author, much less in different ones. Hence an argument may not readily be apprehended, which is different from its being mistaken ; and even caution to avoid being mistaken may, in some cases, render it less readily apprehended. It is very unallowable for a work of imagination or entertainment not to be of easy comprehension, but may be unavoidable in a work of another kind, where a man is not to form or accommodate, but to state things as he finds them. It must be acknowledged, that some of the fol lowing Discourses are very abstruse and difficult ; or, if you please, obscure ; but I must take leave to add, that those alone are judges, whether or no and how far this is a fault, who are judges, whether or no and how far it might have been avoided — those only who will be at the trouble to understand what is here said, and to see how far the things here insisted upon, and not other things, might have been put in a plainer manner; which yet I am very far from asserting that they could not. Thus much however will be allowed, that general criticisms concerning obscurity considered as a dis tinct thing from confusion and perplexity of thought, as in some cases there may be ground for them ; so in others, they may be nothing more at the bottom than complaints, that every thing is not to be under stood with the same ease that some things are. Con fusion and perplexity in writing is indeed without excuse, because any one may, if he pleases, know whether he understands and sees through what he is about : and it is unpardonable for a man to lay his Vlll PREFACE. thoughts before others, when he is conscious that he himself does not know whereabouts he is, or how the matter before him stands. It is coming abroad m disorder, which he ought to be dissatisfied to find himself in at home. But even obscurities arising from other causes than the abstruseness of the argument may not be always inexcusable. Thus a subject may be treated in a manner, which all along supposes the reader acquainted with what has been said upon it, both by ancient and modern writers ; and with what is the present state of opinion in the world concerning such subject. This will create a difficulty of a very peculiar kind, and even throw an obscurity over the whole before those who are not thus informed; but those who are will be disposed to excuse such a manner, and other things of the like kind, as a saving of their patience. However upon the whole, as the title of Sermons gives some right to expect what is plain and of easy comprehension, and as the best auditories are mixed, I shall not set about to justify the propriety of preaching, or under that title pubHshing, Discourses so abstruse as some of these are : neither is it worth while to trouble the reader with the account of my doing either. He must not however impute to me, as a repetition of the impropriety, this second edition a but to the demand for it. Whether he wiU think he has any amends made hun by the following illustrations of what seemed most to require them, I myself am by no means a proper judge. There are two ways in which the subject of morals may be treated. One begins from inquiring into the abstract relations of things : the other from a matter «¦ The preface stands exactly as it did before the second edition ef the Sermons. PREFACE. IX of fact, namely, what the particular nature of man is, its several parts, their economy or constitution ; from whence it proceeds to determine what course of life it is, which is correspondent to this whole nature. In the former method the conclusion is expressed thus, that vice is contrary to the nature! and reason of things : in the latter, that it is a) violation or breaking in upon our own nature. Thus' they both lead us to the same thing, our obligations to the practice of virtue ; and thus they exceedingly strengthen and enforce each other. The first seems the most direct formal proof, and in some respects the least liable to cavd. and dispute : the latter is in a peculiar manner adapted to satisfy a fair mind ; and is more easily appKcable to the several particular relations and circumstances in life. The following Discourses proceed chiefiy in this latter method. The three first wholly. They were , intended to explain what is meant by the nature of man, when it is said that virtue consists in following, and vice in deviating from it ; and by explaining to shew that the assertion is true. That the ancient moralists had some inward feeling; or other, which they chose to express in this manner, that man is bom to virtue, that it consists in following nature, and that vice is more contrary to this nature than tortures or death, their works in our hands are in stances. Now a person who found no mystery in this way of speaking of the ancients ; who, without being very explicit with himself, kept to his natural feeling, went along with them, and found within himself a full conviction, that what they laid down was just and true ; such an one would probably wonder to see a point, in which he never perceived any difficulty, so laboured as this is, in the second and third Sermons ; insomuch perhaps as to be at a loss for the occasion, scope, and drift of them. But PREFACE. it need not be thought strange that this manner of expression, though familiar with them, and, if not usually carried so far, yet not uncommon amongst ourselves, should want explaining; since there are several perceptions daily felt and spoken of, which yet it may not be very easy at first view to expH- cate, to distinguish from all others, and ascertain exactly what the idea or perception is. The many treatises upon the passions are a proof of this ; since so many would never have undertaken to unfold their several complications, and trace and resolve them into their principles, if they had thought, what they were endeavouring to shew was obvious to every one, who felt and talked of those passions. Thus, though there seems no ground to doubt, but that the generaHty of mankind have the inward perception expressed so commonly in that manner by the ancient morahsts, more than to doubt whether they have those passions ; yet it appeared of use to un fold that inward conviction, and lay it open in a more exphcit manner, than I had seen done ; especially when there were not wanting persons, who manifestly mistook the whole thing, and so had great reason to express themselves dissatisfied with it. A late author of great and deserved repu tation says, that to place virtue in following nature, is at best a loose way of talk. And he has reason to say this, if what I think he intends to express, though with great decency, be true, that scarce any other sense can be put upon those words, but acting as any of the several parts, without distinction, of a man's nature happened most to incline him^. Whoever thinks it worth while to consider this matter thoroughly, should begin with stating to himself exactly the idea of a system, economy, or constitution of any particular nature, or particular *> Rei. of Nature Delin., edit. 1724. pp. 22, 23. PREFACE. XI any thing : and he will, I suppose, find, that it is an one or a whole, made up of several parts; but yet, that the several parts even considered as a whole do not complete the idea, unless in the notion of a whole you include the relations and respects which those parts have to each other. Every work both of nature and of art is a system : and as every particular thing, both natural and artificial, is for some use or purpose out of and beyond itself, one may add, to what has been already brought into the idea of a system, its conduciveness to this one or more ends. Let us instance in a watch — Suppose the several parts of it taken to pieces, and placed apart from each other : let a man have ever so exact a notion of these several parts, unless he considers the respects and relations which they have to each other, he will not have any thing Hke the idea of a watch. Suppose these several parts brought together and anyhow united: neither wdl he yet, be the union ever so close, have an idea which will bear any resemblance to that of a watch. But let him view those several parts put together, or con sider them as to be put together in the manner of a watch; let him form a notion of the relations which those several parts have to each other — all conducive in their respective ways to this purpose, shewing the hour of the day ; and then he has the idea of a watch. Thus it is with regard to the inward frame of man. Appetites, passions, affec tions, and the principle of reflection, considered merely as the several parts of our inward nature, do not at all give us an idea of the system or constitution of this nature; because the constitu tion is formed by somewhat not yet taken into con sideration, namely, by the relations which these sejeral^rts^have to each other; the chief of which is the authority of reffeeti5n"br conscience. It is xii PREFACE. from considering the relations which the several appetites and passions in the inward frame have to each other, and, above all, the supremacy of refiec tion or conscience, that we get the idea of the system or constitution of human nature. And from the idea itself it will as fully appear, that this our nature, i. e. constitution, is adapted to virtue, as from the idea of a watch it appears, that its nature, i. e. constitution or system, is adapted to measure time. What in fact or event commonly happens is nothing to this question. Every work of art is apt to be out of order : but this is so far from being according to its system, that let the disorder in crease, and it will totally destroy it. This is merely by way of explanation, what an economy, system, or constitution is. And thus far the cases are per fectly parallel. If we go further, there is indeed a difference, nothing to the present purpose, but too important a one ever to be omitted. A machine is inanimate and passive : but we are agents. Ovx constitution is put in our own power. We are charged with it ; and therefore are accountable for any disorder or violation of it. Thus nothing can possibly be more contrary to nature than vice; meaning by nature not only the several parts of our internal frame, but also the constitution of it. Poverty and disgrace, tortures and death, are not so contrary to it. Misery and injustice are indeed equaUy contrary to some dif ferent parts of our nature taken singly : but injustice is moreover contrary to the whole constitution of the nature. If it be asked, whether this constitution be really what those philosophers meant, and whether they would have explained themselves in this manner ¦ the answer is the same, as if it should be asked whether a person, who had often used the word fi PREFACE. xm resentment, and felt the thing, would have explained this passion exactly in the same manner, in which it is done in one of these Discourses. As I have no doubt, but that this is a true accoimt of that passion, which he referred to and intended to express by the word resentment ; so I have no doubt, but that this is the true account of the ground of that con viction which they referred to, when they said, vice was contrary to nature. And though it should be thought that they meant no more than that vice was contrary to the higher and better part of our nature ; even this implies such a constitution as I have endeavoured to explain. For the very terms, higher and better, imply a relation or respect of parts to each other ; and these relative parts, being in one and the same nature, form a constitution, and are the very idea of it. They had a perception that injustice was contrary to their nature, and that pain was so also. They observed these two per ceptions totally different, not in degree, but ia kind : and the reflecting upon each of them, as they thus stood in their nature, wrought a full intuitive con viction, that more was due and of right belonged to one of these inward perceptions, than to the other ; that it demanded in all cases to govern such a creature as man. So that, upon the whole, this is a fair and true account of what was the ground of their conviction ; of what they intended to refer to, when they said, virtue consisted in following nature : a manner of speaking not loose and unde- terminate, but clear and distinct, strictly just and true. Though I am persuaded the force of this con viction is felt by almost every one ; yet since, con sidered as an argument and put in words, it appears somewhat abstruse, and since the connexion of it is broken in the three first Sermons, it may not be XIV PREFACE. amiss to give the reader the whole argument here in one view. Mankind has various instincts and principles of action, as brute creatures have ; some leading most directly and immediately to the good of the com munity, and some most directly to private good, Man has several which brutes have not ; par ticularly reflection or conscience, an approbation of some principles or actions, and disapprobation of others. Brutes obey their instincts or principles of action, according to certain rules ; suppose the constitution of their body, and the objects around them. The generaHty of mankind also obey their instincts and principles, aU of them; those propensions we caH good, as well as the bad, according to the same rules ; namely, the constitution of their body, and the external circumstances which they are in. [Therefore it is not a true representation of man kind to affirm, that they are wholly governed by self-love, the love of power and sensual appetites : since, as on the one hand they are often actuated by these, without any regard to right or wrong ; so on the other it is manifest fact, that the same persons, the generaHty, are frequently influenced by friend ship, compassion, gratitude; and even a general abhorrence of what is base, and liking of what is fair and just, takes its turn amongst the other motives of action. This is the partial inadequate notion of human nature treated of in the first Discourse : and it is by this nature, if one may speak so, that the world is in fact influenced, and kept in that tolerable order, in which it is.] Brutes m acting according to the rules before mentioned, their bodily constitution and circum stances, act suitably to their whole nature. [It is however to be distinctly noted, that the reason PREFACE. XV why we affirm this is not merely that brutes in fact act so; for this alone, however universal, does not at all determine, whether such course of action be correspondent to their whole nature : but the reason of the assertion is, that as in acting thus they plainly act conformably to somewhat in their nature, so, from all observations we are able to make upon them, there does not appear the least ground to imagine them to have any thing else in their nature, which requires a different rule or course of action.] Mankind also in acting thus would act suitably to their whole nature, if no more were to be said of man's nature than what has been now said; if that, as it is a true, were also a complete, adequate account of our nature. But that is not a complete account of man's nature. Somewhat further must be brought in to give us an adequate notion of it ; namely, that one of those principles of action, conscience or reflection, compared with the rest as they all stand together in the nature of man, plainly bears upon it marks of authority over all the rest, and claims the abso lute direction of them all, to aUow or forbid their gratification : a disapprobation of refiection being in itself a principle manifestly superior to a mere pro- pension. And the conclusion is, that to allow no more to this superior principle or part of our nature, than to other parts ; to let it govern and guide only occasionally in common with the rest, as its turn happens to come, from the temper and circum stances one happens to be in ; this is not to act conformably to the constitution of man : neither can any human creature be said to act conformably to his constitution of nature, unless he aUows to that superior principle the absolute authority which is due to it. And this conclusion is abundantly xvi PREFACE. confirmed from hence, that one may determine what course of action the economy of man's nature re quires, without so much as knowing in what degrees of strength the several principles prevail, or -^\-hich of them have actuaUy the greatest influence. The practical reason of insisting so much upon this natural authority of the principle of reflection or conscience is, that it seems in great measure over looked by many, who are by no means the worse sort of men. It is thought sufficient to abstain from gross wickedness, and to be humane and kind to such as happen to come in their way. WTiereas in reality the very constitution of our nature requires, that we bring our whole conduct before this superior faculty ; wait its determination ; enforce upon our selves its authority, and make it the business of om- lives, as it is absolutely the whole business of a moral agent, to conform ourselves to it. This is the true meaning of that ancient precept. Reverence thyself. The not taking into consideration this authority, which is impHed in the idea of reflex approbation or disapprobation, seems a material deficiency or omission in lord Shaftesbury's Inquiry concerning Virtue. He has shewn beyond all contradiction, that virtue is naturally the interest or happiness, and vice the misery, of such a creature as man, placed in the circumstances which we are in this world. But suppose there are particular exceptions; a case wliich this author was vinwilling to put, and yet surely it is to be put : or suppose a case which he has put and determined, that of a sceptic not convinced of this happy tendency of virtue, or being of a contrary opinion. His determination is, that it woidd be without remedy^. One may say more expHcitly, that leaving out the authority of reflex <^ Characteristics, vol. ii. p. ( g. PREFACE. xvu approbation or disapprobation, such an one would be under an obUgation to act viciously; since in terest, one's own happiness, is a manifest obligation, and there is not supposed to be any other obligation in the case. " But does it much mend the matter, to take in that natural authority of reflection? There indeed would be an obligation to virtue ; but would not the obligation from supposed interest on the side of vice remain 1 " If it should, yet to be under two confrary obligations, i. e. under none at all, would not be exactly the same, as to be under a formal obUgation to be vicious, or to be in circum stances in which the constitution of man's nature plainly required that vice should be preferred. But the obUgation on the side of interest really does not remain. For the natural authority of the principle of reflection is an obUgation the most near and intimate, the most certain and known : whereas the contrary obUgation can at the utmost appear no more than probable ; since no man can be certain in any circumstances that vice is his interest in the present world, much less can he be certain against another : and thus the certain obUgation would entirely supersede and destroy the uncertain one ; which yet would have been of real force without the former. In truth, the taking in this consideration totally changes the whole state of the case ; and shews, what this author does not seem to have been aware of, that the greatest degree of scepticism which he thought possible wiU still leave men under the strictest moral obUgations, whatever their opinion be concemiag the happiness of virtue. For that mankind upon reflection felt an approbation of what was good, and disapprobation of the contrary, he thought a plain matter of fact, as it undoubtedly is, which none could deny, but from mere affectation. BUTLER, SERMONS. b xvin PREFACE. Take in then that authority and obUgation, which is a constituent part of this reflex approbation, and it wiU undeniably follow, though a man should doubt of every thing else, yet, that he would still remain under the nearest and most certain obliga tion to the practice of virtue ; an obUgation implied in the very idea of virtue, in the very idea of reflex approbation. And how Uttle influence soever this obligation alone can be expected to have in fact upon man kind, yet one may appeal even to interest and self- love, and ask, since from man's nature, condition, and the shortness of life, so Httle, so very little indeed, can possibly in any case be gained by vice; whether it be so prodigious a thing to sacrifice that Httle to the most intimate of aU obligations ; and which a man cannot transgress without being self- condemned, and, unless he has corrupted his nature, without real self-dislike : this question, I say, may be asked, even upon supposition that the prospect of a future life were ever so uncertain. The observation, that man is thus by his very nature a law to himself, pursued to its just conse quences, is of the utmost importance ; because from it it wUl follow, that though men should, through stu pidity or speculative scepticism, be ignorant of, or disbelieve, any authority in the universe to punish the violation of this law ; yet, if there should be such authority, they woidd be as really Uable to punishment, as though they had been beforehand convinced, that such punishment would follow. For in whatever sense we understand justice, even supposing, what I think would be very presump tuous to assert, that the end of divine punishment is no other than that of civil punishment, namely, to prevent future mischief; upon this bold suppo sition, ignorance or disbeUef of the sanction would by no means exempt even from this justice : becRuse PREFACE. XIX it is not foreknowledge of the punishiuont which renders us obnoxious to it ; but merelv violatinij a known obligation. And here it comes iu one's way to take notice of a manifest error or mistake in the author now cited, unless perhaps he has incautiously expressed himself so as to be misunderstood ; namely, that it is mixlice only, and not goodness, -wliich can -niake us afraid^. Whereas iu reality, goodness is the natural and just object of the greatest fear to an ill man. Malice may be appeased or satiated ; humour may change, but goodness is a fixed, steady, immovable principle of action. If either of the former holds the sword of justice, there is plainly ground for the greatest of crimes to hope for im punity : but if it be goodness, there can be no possible hope, whilst the reasons of things, or the ends of government, call for punishment. Thus every one sees how much greater chance of impu nity an iU man has in a partial administration, than in a just and upright oue. It is said, that the interest or good of tlie whole -must be the in terest of the luiiversal Being, and that he can have no other. Be it so. This author has proved, that vice is naturally the misery of mankind in this world. Consequently it was for the good of the whole that it should be so. What shadow of reason then is there to assert, that this may not be the case hereafter 1 Danger of future punishment (and if there be danger, there is ground of fear) no more supposes malice, than the present feeling of punish ment does. The sermon upon the character of Balaam, and that upon Self -Deceit, both relate to one subject I am persuaded, that a very great part of the wickedness of the world is, one way or other, d Charact. vol. i. p. 39. b 2 XX PREFACE. owing to the self-partiality, self-flattery, and self- deceit, endeavoul-ed there to be laid open and ex plained. It is to be observed amongst persons of the lowest rank, in proportion to their compass of thought, as much as amongst men of education and improvement. It seems, that people are capable of being thus artful with themselves, in proportion as they are capable of being so with others. Those who have taken notice that there is really such a thing, namely, plain falseness and insincerity in men with regard to themselves, will readily see the drift and design of these Discourses : and nothing that I can add will explain the design of them to him, who has not beforehand remarked, at least, somewhat of the character. And yet the admonitions they contain may be as much wanted by such a person, as by others ; for it is to be noted, that a man may be entirely possessed by this un fairness of mind, without having the least specu lative notion what the thing is. The account given of Resentment in the eighth Sermon is introductory to the foUowing one upon Forgiveness of Injuries. It may possibly have appeared to some, at first sight, a strange asser tion, that injury is the only natural object of settled resentment, or that men do not in fact resent de liberately any thing but under this appearance of injury. But I must desire the reader not to take any assertion alone by itself, but to consider the whole of what is said upon it : because this is necessary, not only in order to judge of the truth of it, but often, such is the nature of language, to see the very meaning of the assertion. Particularly as to this, injury and injustice is, in the Sermon itself, explained to mean, not only the more gross and shocking instances of wickedness, but also con tempt, scom, neglect, any sort of disagreeable be- PREFACE. XXI haviour towards a person, which he thinks other than what is due to him. And the general notion of injury or wrong plainly comprehends this, though the words are mostly confined to the higher degrees ofit. Forgiveness of injuries is one of the very few moral obligations which has been disputed. But the proof, that it is reaUy an obligation, what our nature and condition require, seems very obvious, were it only from the consideration, that revenge is doing harm merely for harm's sake. And as to the love of our enemies : resentment cannot super sede the obligation to universal benevolence, unless they are in the nature of the thing inconsistent, which they plainly are not «. This divine precept, to forgive injuries and love our enemies, though to be met with in Gentile moralists, yet is in a peculiar sense a precept of Christianity ; as our Saviour has insisted more upon it than upon any Other single virtue. One reason of this doubtless is, that it so pecuUarly becomes an imperfect, faulty creature. But it may be observed also, that a virtuous temper of mind, consciousness of innocence, and good meaning towards every body, and a strong feeling of in justice and injury, may itself, such is the imper fection of our virtue, lead a person to violate this obUgation, if he be not upon his guard. And it may weU be supposed, that this is another reason why it is so much insisted upon by him who hnew what was in man. The chief design of the eleventh Discourse is to state the notion of self-love and disinterestedness, in order to shew that benevolence is not more un friendly to self-love, than any other particular affec tion whatever. There is a strange affectation in e Page 109. xxu PREFACE. many people of explaining away all particular affec tions, and representing the whole of life as nothing but one continued exercise of self-love. Hence arises that surprising confusion and perplexity in the Epicureans f of old, Hobbes, the author of Re flexions, Sentences, et Maximes Morales, and this whole set of writers ; the confusion of calling actions interested which are done in contradiction to the most manifest known interest, merely for the grati fication of a present passion. Now all this con fusion might easily be avoided, by stating to our selves wherein the idea of self-love in general consists, as distinguished from all particular move ments towards particular external objects ; the appetites of sense, resentment, compassion, curi osity, ambition, and the rest°. When this is done, if the words selfish and interested cannot be parted with, but must be applied to every thing ; yet, to avoid such total confusion of aU language, let the distinction be made by epithets : and the first may be called cool or settled selfishness, and the other passionate or sensual selfishness. But the most natural way of speaking plainly is, to call the first only, self-love, and the actions proceeding from it, interested : and to say of the latter, that they are not love to ourselves, but movements towards some- f One need only look into Torquatus's account of the Epicurean system, in Cicero's first book De Finihus, to see in what a surprising manner this was done by them. Thus the desire of praise, and of being beloved, he explains to be no other than desire of safety : regard to our country, even in the most virtuous character, to be nothing but regard to ourselves. The author of Reflexions, jr ramd, and vnth all our sou2 ; somewhat more must be meant than merely that we Uve in hope of rewards or fear of punishments from him ; somewhat more than this must be intended: though these re gards themselves are most just and reasonable, and absolutely necessary to be often recollected in such a world as this. It may be proper just to advertise the reader, that he is not to look for any particular reason for the choice of the greatest part of these Discourses ; their being taken from amongst many otheiB, preached in the same plaxse, through a course of eight years, being in great measure accidental Neither is he to expect to find any other connection' between them, than that uniformity of thought and design, which will always be found in the writings of the same person, when he ^\-rites with simpUcity and in eamest. Stanhope, Serjjt. i6, 1729. CONTENTS. SERMON I. II. III. Upon Human Nature, or Man considered as a JNIoral Agent. SERMON I. Upon the Social Nature of Man. RoM. xii. 4, 5. For as we have many memhers in one lady, and all members have not the same office : so we lei-ng many are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another Page 1 SERMON II. III. Upon the Natural Supremacy of Conscience. Roir. ii. 14. For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do ly nature the things contained in the la-w, these, having not the law, are a law to themselves 17. 30 SERMON IV. Upon the Government of the Tongue. James i. 26. If any m^n among you seem to he religious, and bridleth not Ms tongue, hut deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain 39 SERMON V. VI. Upon Compassion. RoM. xii. 15. Rejoice icith them that do rejoice, and weep vnth them that weej) 57. 63 xxx CONTENTS. SERMON VII. Upon the Character of Balaam. Numbers xxiii. 10. Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end he like his 78 SERMON VIII. IX. Upon Resentment, and Forgiveness of Injuries. Matthew v. 43, 44. Ye have heard that it hath heen said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy: hut I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them ihat curse you, do good to ihem that hate you, and pray for them which despite:fully use you and ¦persecute you 91. 103 SERMON X. Upon Self-Deceit. 2 Samuel xii. 7. And Nathan said io David, Thou art the man 118 SERMON XI. XII. Upon the Love of our Neighbour. Romans xiii. 9. And if there he any other commandment, it is briefly compre hended in this saying, namely, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself 134.153 SERMON XIII. XIV. Upon Piety, or the Love of G-od. Matthew xxii. 37. Thou shalt love the Lord ihy God with all thy heart, and with all th^ soul, and with all thy mind 172. 184 CONTENTS. XXXI SERMON XV. Upon the Ignorance of Man. Eccles. viii. 16, 17. When I applied mine heart io kuow wisdom, and io see the business that is done upon ihe earth : then I beheld all the work of God, that a man cannot fmd ont the work that is done under the sun : because though a man labour to seek it oui, yet he shall not flnd it ; yea further, though a toise man think to know it, yet shall he not be able to flnd it 198 SIX SERMONS PREACHED UPON PUBLIC OCCASIONS. SERMON I. Preached before the Society for Propagating the Gospel. Matt. xxiv. 14. And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world, for a witness unto all nations 215 SERMON II. Preached before the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs, and the Governors of the several Hospitals of the City of London. Peov. xxii. 2. The rich and poor meet together: the Lord is the maker qf them all 233 xxxii CONTENTS. SERMON III. Preached before the House of Lords, Jan. 30, 1740-41. 1 Peter ii. 16. And not using your liberty for a cloke qf maliciousness, but as ihe servants qf God 251 SERMON IV Preached at the Annual Meeting of the Charity Children at Christ Church. Prov. xxii. 6. Train up a child in the way he should go : and when he is old, he will noi depart from it 271 SERMON V. Preached before the House of Lords on the Anniver sary of his Majesty's Accession to the Throne. 1 Timothy ii. 1, 2. I exhort, ihat, flrsi of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men ; for kings, and for all thai are in authority; thai we may lead a quiet and peace able life, in all godliness and honesty 291 SERMON VI. Preached before the Governors of the London Infirmary. 1 Peter iv. 8. And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves : for charity shall cover ihe multitude of sins 303 A Charge to the Clergy of the Diocese of Durham, 1751 323 Correspondence between Dr. Butler and Dr. Clarke 349 SEEMON I. UPON HUMAN NATURE. RosiAXS xii. 4, 5. For as we have many memhers in one body, and all memhers , have noi ihe same office : so we, heing many, are one body in ' Christ, and every one memhers one of another. T^HE Epistles ia the New Testament have 'all of -¦- them a particular reference to the condition and usages of the Christian world at the time they were written. Therefore as they cannot be tho roughly understood, unless that condition and those usages are known and attended to : so further, though they be known, yet if they be discontinued or changed ; exhortations, precepts, and illustrations of things, which refer to such circumstances now ceased or altered, cannot at this time be urged in that manner, and with that force which they were to the primitive Crihstians. Thus the text now before us, in its first intent and design, relates to the decent management of those extraordinary gifts which were then in the church*, but which are now totally ceased. And even as to the allusion that we are one body in Christ ; though what the apostle here intends is equally true of Christians in all circumstances ; and the consideration of it is plainly stiU an addi- a I Cor. xii. BUTLER, SEKMOXS. B 2 UPON human nature. [serm. tional motive, over and above moral considerations, to the discharge of the several duties and offices of a Christian : yet it is manifest this allusion must have appeared with much greater force to those, who, by the many difficulties they went through for the sake of their religion, were led to keep always in view the relation they stood in to their Saviour, who had undergone the same ; to those, who, from the idolatries of all around them, and their ill treat ment, were taught to consider themselves as not of the world in which they lived, but as a distinct society of themselves; with laws and ends, and prin ciples of life and action, quite contrary to those which the world professed themselves at that time influenced by. Hence the relation of a Christian was by them considered as nearer than that of affi nity and blood ; and they almost UteraUy esteemed themselves as members one of another. It cannot indeed possibly be denied, that our being God's creatures, and virtue being the natural law we are born under, and the whole constitution of man being plainly adapted to it, are prior obligations to piety and virtue, than the consideration that God sent his Son into the world to save it, and the mo tives which arise from the peculiar relation of Chris tians, as members one of another under Christ our head. However, though all this be allowed, as it expressly is by the inspired writers ; yet it is mani fest that Christians at the time of the revelation, and immediately after, could not but insist mostly upon considerations of this latter kind. These observations shew the original particular reference to the text ; and the peculiar force with which the thing intended by the allusion in it must have been felt by the primitive Christian world. They I.] upon human nature. 3 likewise afford a reason for treating it at this time in a more general way. The relation which the several parts or members of the natural body have to each other and to the whole body, is here compared to the relation which each particular person in society has to other particular persons and to the whole society ; and the latter is intended to be illustrated by the former. And if there be a likeness between these two relations, the consequence is obvious : that the latter shews us we were intended to do good to others, as the former shews us that the several members of the natural body were intended to be instruments of good to each other and to the whole body. But as there is scarce any ground for a comparison between society and the mere material body, this without the mind being a dead unactive thing ; much less can the com parison be carried to any length. And since the apostle speaks of the several members as having dis tinct offices, which impUes the mind ; it cannot be thought an unallowable liberty ; instead of the lady and its memhers, to substitute the whole nature of man, and all the variety of internal principles which belong to it. And then the comparison will be between the nature of man as respecting self, and tending to private good, his own preservation and happiness ; and the nature of man as having respect to society, and tending to promote public good, the happiness of that society. These ends do indeed perfectly coincide ; and to aim at public and private j good are so far from being inconsistent, that they mutuaUy promote each other : yet in the following discourse they must be considered as entirely distinct; otherwise the nature of man as tending to one, or as tending to the other, cannot be compared. There can B 2 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [serm. no comparison be made, without considering the things compared as distinct and difierent. From tliis review and comparison of the nature of man as respecting self, and as respecting society, it wUl plainly appear, that there are as real and the same hind of indications in human nature, that we were made for society and to do good to our fellow- creatures ; as that tve were intended to take care of our ou-n life and hecdth and private good : and that the same objections lie against one of these assertions, as against the other. For, First, there is a natural principle of benevolence ^ in ^ Suppose a man of learning to be writing a grave book upon Jminaii ¦nature, and to t-hew in several parts of it that he had an insight into the subject he was considerhig ; amongst other things, the following one would require to be accounted for ; the appearance of benevo lence or good-will in men towards each other in the instances of natural relation, and in others *. Cautious of being deceived with outward show, he retires within himself to see exactly, what that is in the mind of mau from whence this appearance proceeds ; and, upon deep reflection, asserts the principle in the mind to be only the love of power, and delight iu the exercise of it. Would not every body thinii here was a mi.stalve of one word for another f that the philosopher was contemplating and accounting for some other human actions, some other behaviour of man to man % And could any one be thoroughly satisfied, that what is commonly called bene\olence or good-will was really the affection meant, but only by being made to understand that this learned person had a general hypothesis, to which the appearance of good-will could no otherwise be reconciled ? That what has this appearance is often nothing but ambition ; that delight in superiority often (suppose always) mixes itself with bene • voleuce, only makes it more specious to call it ambition than hunger, of the two : but in reality that passion does no more account for the whole appearances of good-will, than this appetite does. Is there not often the appearance of one man's wishing that good to another, which he knows himself unable to procure him ; and rejoiciii"' in it, though bestowed by a third person 1 And can love of power any way * Hobbes of Human Nature, c. ix. § 7. 1.] UPON llliMAN NATURE. 5 man ; which is in some degree to society, what .ve//- j love is to the individual. And if there be in man- possibly come in to aeeomit for this desire or delight ? Is there not often the appearance of men's distinguishing betweeii two or more persons, preferring one before another, to do good to, in cases where love of power cannot in the least account for tlie distinction and preference 1 For this principle can no otherwise distinguish betweeii objects, than as it is a greater instance and exertion of power to do good to one rather than to another. Again, suppose good-will in the mind of mau to be nothing but delight in the exercise of power : men might iiuleetl be restrained by distant and accidental consider ation ; but these restraints being removed, they would have a dispo sition to, and delight in misehief as an exercise and proof of power : and this disposition and delight would arise from, or be the same principle ia the mind, as a disposition to, and delight in charity. Thus cruelty, as distinct from envy and resentment, would be exactly the same in the mind of man as good-will : that one tends to the happiness, the other to the misery of our fellow-creatures, is, it seems, merely an accidental circumstance, which the mind has not the least regard to. Tliese are the absurdities which even men of capacity run into, when they have occasion to belie their nature, and will perversely disclaim that image of God which was originally stamped upon it, the traces of which, however faint, are plainly dis cernible upon the miud of man. If any person can in earnest doubt, whether tliere be such a thing as good-will in one man towards another ; (for the question is not concerning either the degree or extensiveness of it, but concerning the affection itself:) let it be observed, that lohether -man he thns, or otJiei-wise con.ililuted, what is the inward frame in this part'indar, is a mere question of fact or natural history, not pro\eable immediately by reason. It is tlierefoio to be judged of and determined in the same way other facts or mutters of natural historj' are : by appeal ing to the external senses, or inward perceptions, respectively, as tho matter under consideration is cognizable by one or tlie other : by arguing from acknowledged facts and actions ; for a great number of actions in the same kind, in different circumstances, and respect ing different objects, will prove, to a certainty, what principles they do not, and, to the greatest probability, what principles they do pro ceed from : aud lastly, by the testimony of mankind. Now that there is some degree of benevolence amongst meu, may be as strongly and 6 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. kind any dispositioii to friendship ; if there be any such thing as compassion, for compassion is momen tary love ; if there be any such thing as the paternal or filial affections; if there be any affection in human nature, the object and end of which is the good of another, this is itself benevolence, or the love of another. Be it ever so short, be it in ever so low a degree, dr ever so unhappily confined; it proves the assertion, and points out what we were designed for, as reaUy as though it were in a higher degree and more extensive. I must, however, remind you that though benevolence and self-love are different; though the former tends most directly to public good, and the latter to private : yet they are so perfectly coincident, that the greatest satisfactions to ourselves depend upon our having benevolence in a due degree ; and that self-love is one chief security of our right beha viour towards society. It may be added, that their mutual coinciding, so that we can scarce promote one without the other, is equally a proof that we were made for both. Secondly, This will further appear, from observing that the several p>assions and affections, which are distinct" both from benevolence and self-love, do in plainly proved in all these ways, as it could possibly be proved, sup posing there was this afl'ection in our nature. And should any one think fit to assert, that resentment in the mind of man was absolutely nothing but reasonable concern for our own safety, the falsity of this, and what is the real nature of that passion, could be shewn in no other ways than those in which it may be shewn, that there is such a thing in some degree as real good-will in man towards man. It is sufficient that the seeds of it be implanted in our nature by God. There is, it is owned, much left for us to do upon our own heart and temper ; to cultivate, to improve, to call it forth, to exercise it in a steady, uniform manner. This is our work : this is virtue and religion. '• Every body makes a distinction between self-love, and the seve- l.J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 7 general contribute and lead us to public good as really as to private. It might be thought too minute and particular, and would carry us too great a length, to distinguish between and compare together the several passions or appetites distinct from benevolence, whose primary use and intention is the security and good of ral particular passions, appetites, and affections ; and yet they are often confounded again. That they are totally different, will be seen by any one who will distinguish between the passions and appetites themselves, and end-eavouring after the means of their gratification. Consider the appetite of hunger, and the desire of esteem : these being the occasion both of pleasure and pain, the coolest self-love, as well as the appetites and passions themselves, may put us upon making use of the proper methods of obtaining that pleasure, and avoiding that pain ; bnt the feelings themselves, the pain of hunger and shame, and the delight from esteem, are no more self-love than they are any thing in the world. Though a man hated himself, he would as much feel the pain of hunger as he would that of the gout : and it is plainly supposable there may be creatures with self-love in them to the highest degree, who may be quite insensible and indif ferent (as men in some cases are) to the contempt and esteem of those, upon whom their happiness does not in some further respects depend. And as self-love and the several particular passions and appetites are in themselves totally different ; so, that some actions proceed from one, and some from the other, will be manifest to any who will observe the two following very supposable cases. One man rushes upon certain ruin for the gratification of a present desire : nobody will call the principle of this action self-love. Suppose an other man to go through some laborious work upon promise of a great reward, without any distinct knowledge what the reward will be : this course of action cannot be ascribed to any particular pas sion. The former of these actions is plainly to be imputed to some particular passion or affection, the latter as plainly to the general affection or principle of self-love. That there are some particular pursuits or actions concerning which we cannot determine how far they are owing to one, and how far to the other, proceeds from this, that the two principles are frequently mixed together, and run up into each other. This distinction is ftirther explained in the eleventh sermon. 8 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. society; and the passions distinct from self-love, whose primary intention and design is the security and good of the individual^. It is enough to the present argument, that desire of esteem from others, contempt and esteem of them, love of society as distinct from affection to the good of it, indignation against suc cessful vice, that these are pubUc affections or passions; have an immediate respect to others, naturally lead us to regulate our behaviour in such a manner as will be of service to our feUow-creatures. If any or aU of these may be considered Ukewise as private affec tions, as tending to private good ; this does not hinder them from being public affections too, or destroy the good influence of them upon society, and their ten dency to public good. It may be added, that as persons without any conviction from reason of the desirable ness of Ufe, would yet of course preserve it merely fi-om the appetite of hunger ; so by acting merely from regard (suppose) to reputation, without any consideration of the good of others, men often con tribute to public good. In both these instances they are plainly instruments in the hands of another, in the hands of Providence, to carry on ends, the pre- d If any desire to see this distinction and comparison made in a particular instance, the appetite and passion now mentioned may serve for one. Hunger is to be considered as a private appetite ; because the end for which it was given us is the preservation of the individual. Desire of esteem is a public passion ; because the end for which it was given us is to regulate our behaviour towards society. The respect which this has to private good is as remote as the re spect that has to public good : and the appetite is no more self-love, than the passion is benevolence. The object and end of the former is merely food ; the object and end of the latter is merely esteem : but the latter can no more be gratified, without contributing to the good of society ; thau the former can be gratified, without contri buting to the preservation of the individual. I.J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 9 servation of the individual and good of society, which they themselves have not in their view or intention. The sum is, men have various appetites, passions, and particular affections, quite distinct both from self-love and from benevolence : aU of these have a tendency to promote both public and private good, and may be considered as respecting others and our selves equally and in common : but some of them seem most inimediately to respect others, or tend to pubhc good ; others of them most immediately to respect self, or tend to private good : as the former are not benevolence, so the latter are not self- love : neither sort are instances of our love either to ourselves or others ; but only instances of our Maker's care and love both of the individual and the species, and proofs that he intended we should be instruments of good to each other, as well as that we should be so to ourselves. Thirdly, There is a principle of refiection in men, by which they distinguish between, approve and disapprove their own actions. We are plainly con stituted such sort of creatures as to reflect upon our own nature. The mind earf take a view of what passes within itself, its propensions, aversions, pas sions, affections, as respecting such objects, and in such degrees ; and of the several actions consequent thereupon. In this survey it approves of one, dis approves of another, and towards a third is affected in neither of these ways, but is quite indifferent. This principle in man, by which he approves or dis approves his heart, temper, and actions, is con science ; for this is the strict sense of the word, though sometimes it is used so as to take in more. And that this faculty tends to restrain men from doing mischief to each other, and leads them to do good, is too manifest 10 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. to need being insisted upon. Thus a parent has the affection of love to his children: this leads him to take care of, to educate, to make due provision for them ; the natural affection leads to this : but the reflection that it is his proper business, what belongs to him, that it is right and commendable so to do ; this added to the affection becomes a much more settled principle, and carries him on through more labour and difficulties for the sake of his chil dren, than he would vmdergo from that affection alone, if he thought it, and the course of action it led to, either indifferent or criminal. This indeed is impossible, to do that which is good and not to approve of it ; for which reason they are frequently not considered as distinct, though the}^ really are : for men often approve of the actions of others, which they will not imitate, and likewise do that which they approve not. It cannot possibly be denied, that there is this principle of reflection or conscience in human nature. Suppose a man to relieve an in nocent person in great distress ; suppose the same man afterwards, in the fury of anger, to do the greatest mischief to a person who had given no just cause of offence; to aggravate the injury, add the circumstan ces of former friendship, and obligation frorn the injured person; let the man who is supposed to have done these two different actions, coolly reflect upon them afterwards, without regard to their consequences to himself : to assert that any common man would be affected in the same way towards these different ac tions, that he would make no distinction between them, but approve or disapprove them equally, is too glaring a falsity to need being confuted. There is therefore this principle of reflection or conscience in mankind. It is needless to compare the respect it T.J UPON HUMAN NATUEE. 11 has to private good, with the respect it has to public ; since it plainly tends as much to the latter as to the former, and is commonly thought to tend chiefly to the latter. This faculty is now mentioned merely as another part in the inward frame of man, pointing out to us in some degree what we are intended for, and as what wiU naturally and of course have some influence. The particular place assigned to it by nature, what authority it has, and how great influence it ought to have, shall be hereafter considered. From this comparison of benevolence and self-love, of our public and private affections, of the courses of Ufe they lead to, and of the principle of reflection or conscience as respecting each of them, it is as manifest, that ive were ^m,ade for society, and tojpromote the happiness of it ; as that we tvere intended to take care of our own life, and health, and private good. And from this whole review must be given a diffe rent draught of human nature from what we are often presented with. Mankind are by nature so closely united, there is such a correspondence between the inward sensations of one man and those of another, that disgrace is as much avoided as bodily pain, and to be the object of esteem and love as much desired as any external goods : and in many particular cases persons are carried on to do good to others, as the end their affection tends to and rests in ; and manifest that they find real satisfaction and enjoyment in this course of behaviour. There is such a natural princi ple of attraction in man towards man, that having trod the same tract of land, having breathed in the same climate, barely having been born in the same artificial district or division, becomes the occasion of contracting acquaintances and familiarities many yearw after : for any thing may serve the purpose. Thus 12 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. relations merely nominal are sought and invented, not by governors, but by the lowest of the people ; which are found sufficient to hold mankind together in little fraternities and copartnerships : weak ties indeed, and what may afford fund enough for ridicule, if they are absurdly considered as the real principles of that union : but they are in truth merely the occasions, as any thing may be of any thing, upon which our nature carries us on according to its own previous bent and bias ; which occasions therefore would be nothmg at all, were there not this prior disposition and bias of nature. Men are so much one body, that in a peculiar manner they feel for each other, shame, sudden danger, resentment, honour, prosperity, distress ; one or another, or all of these, from the social nature in general, from benevolence, upon the occasion of natural relation, acquaintance, protection, dependence ; each of these being distinct cements of society. And therefore to have no re straint from, no regard to others in our behaviour, is the speculative absurdity of considering ourselves as single and independent, as having nothing in our nature which has respect to our feUow-creatures, reduced to ac lion an practice. And this is the same absurdity, as to suppose a hand, or any part to have no natural respect to any other, or to the whole body. But aflowing all this, it may be asked, " Has not man dispositions ahd principles within, which lead him to do evil to others, as weU as to do good 1 Whence come the many miseries else, which men are the authors and instruments of to each other 1" These questions, so far as they relate to the foregoing dis course, may be answered by asking. Has not man also dispositions and principles within, which lead him to I.J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 13 do evil to himself, as well as good ? Whence come the many miseries else, sickness, pain, and death, which men are instruments and authors of to themselves 1 It may be thought more easy to answer one of these questions than the other, but the answer to both is really the same ; that mankind have un governed passions which they wUl gratify at any rate, as well to the injury of others, as in contradiction to known private interest : but that as there is no such thing as self-hatred, so neither is there any such thing as Ul-wiU in one man towards another, emula tion and resentment being away ; whereas there is plainly benevolence or good-will : there is no such thing as love of injustice, oppression, treachery, in gratitude ; but only eager desires after such and such external goods; which, according to a very ancient observation, the most abandoned would choose to obtain by innocent means, if they were as easy, and as effectual to their end : that even emula tion and resentment, by any one who wUl consider what these passions really are in nature^, will be found nothing to the purpose of this objection : and that the principles and passions in the mind of e Emulation is merely the desire and hope of equality with, or superiority over others, with whom we compare ourselves. There does not appear to be any other grief in the^natural passion, but only that want which is implied in desire. However this may be so strong as to be the occasion of great grief. To desire the attainment of this equality or superiority by the particular means of others, being brought down to our own level, or below it, is, I think, the distinct notion of envy. From whence it is easy to see, that the real end, which the natural passion emulation, and which the unlawful one envy aims at, is exactly the same ; namely, that equality or supe riority : and consequently, that to do mischief is not the end of envy, but merely the means it makes use of to attain its end. As to re sentment, see the eighth sermon. 14 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. man, which are distinct both from self-love and be nevolence, primarily and most directly lead to right behaviour with regard to others as well as himself, and only secondarily and accidentally to what is evU. Thus, though men, to avoid the shame of one vUliany, are sometimes guilty of a greater, yet it is easy to see, that the original tendency of shame is to prevent the doing of shameful actions ; and its leading men to conceal such actions when done, is only in con sequence of their being done ; i. e. of the passion's not having answered its first end. If it be said, that there are persons in the world, who are in great measure without the natural affections towards their fellow-creatures : there are likewise instances of persons without the common natural affections to themselves : but the nature of man is not to be judged of by either of these, but by what appears in the common world, in the buUi of mankind. I am afraid it would be thought very strange, if to confirm the truth of this account of human nature, and make out the justness of the foregoing com parison, it should be added, that, fiom what appears, men in fact as much and as often contradict that part of their nature which respects self, and which leads them to their own private good and happiness; as they contradict that part of it which respects society, and tends to public good : that there are as few persons, who attain the greatest satisfaction and enjoyment which they might attain in the present world ; as who do the greatest good to others which they might do ; nay, that there are as few who can be said really and in earnest to aim at one, as at the other. Take a survey of mankirt/ : the world in genera], the good and bad, almost without except I.J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 15 tion, equally are agreed, that were religion out of the case, the happiness of the present life would consist in a manner wholly in riches, honours, sensual gratifications ; insomuch that one scarce hears a re flection made upon prudence, Hfe, conduct, but upon this supposition. Yet on the contrary, that persons in the greatest affluence of fortune are no happier than such as have only a competency ; that the cares and disappointments of ambition for the most part far exceed the satisfactions of it ; as also the miserable intervals of intempera,iTCfi_fl,nd excess, and the many untimely deaths occasioned by a dissolute course of lifej these things are all seen, acknowledged, by every one acknowledged ; but are thought no objections against, though they expressly contradict, this univer sal principle, that the happiness of_t^he_preseut life consists in one or other of them. Whence is all this absurdity and contradiction 1 Is not the middle way obvious 1 Can any thing be more manifest, than that the happiness of life consists in these possessed and enjoyed only to a certain degree ; that to pursue them beyond this degree, is always attended with more inconvenience than advantage to a man's self, and often with extreme misery and unhappiness. Whence then, I say, is all this absurdity and contra diction 1 Is it really the result of consideration in man kind, how they may become most easy to themselves, most free from care, and enjoy the chief happiness attainable in this world 1 Or is it not manifestly owing either to this, that they have not cool and reasonable concern enough for themselves to consider' wherein their chief happiness in the present life con sists ; or else, if they do consider it, that they will not act conformably to what is the result of that consideration ; i. e. reasonable concern for themselves, 16 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SEEM. or cool self-love is prevailed over by passion and appetite. So that from what appears, there is no ground to assert that those principles in the nature of man, which most directly lead to promote the good of our fellow-creatures, are more generally or in a greater degree violated, than those, which most di rectly lead us to promote our own private good and happiness. The sum of the whole is plainly this. The nature of man considered in his single capacity, and with respect only to the present world, is adapted and leads him to attaia the greatest happiness he can for himself in the present world. The nature of man considered in his pubhc or social capacity leads him to a right behaviour in society, to that course of life which we caU virtue. Men follow or obey then- nature in both these capacities and respects to a certain degree, but not entirely : their actions do not come up to the whole of what their nature leads them to in either of these capacities or respects: and they often violate their nature in both, i. e. as they neglect the duties they owe to their fellow- creatures, to which their nature leads them ; and are injurious, to which their nature is abhorrent ; so there is a manifest negUgence in men of their real happiness or interest in the present world, when that interest is inconsistent with a present gratification ; for the sake of which they negligently, nay, even knowingly, are the authors and instruments of their own misery and ruin. Thus they are as often unjust to themselves as to others, and for the most part are equally so to both by the same actions. SEEMON II, m. UPON HUMAN NATURE. Romans ii. 14. For when ihe Gentiles, which have noi ihe law, do hy impure the things contained in ihe law, these, having not the taw, are a law unto themselves. A S speculative truth admits of different kinds ¦^-^ of proof, so Ukewise moral obligations may be shewn by different methods. If the real nature of any creature leads him and is adapted to such and such purposes only, or more than to any other ; this is a reason to beUeve the author of that nature intended it for those purposes. Thus there is no doubt the eye was intended for us to see with. And the more com plex any constitution is, and the greater variety of parts there are which thus tend to some one end, the stronger is the proof that such end was designed. However, when the inward frame of man is considered as any guide in morals, the utmost caution must be used that none make peculiarities in their own temper, or any thing which is the effect of particular customs, though observable in several, the standard of what is com mon to the species ; and above all, that the highest principle be not forgot or excluded, that to which belongs the adjustment and correction of aU other inward movements and affections : which principle BUTLEEj SERMONS. C 18 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. wdl of course have some influence, but which being in nature supreme, as shaU now be shewn, ought to preside over and govern all the rest. The difficulty of rightly observing the two former cautions ; the appearance there is of some small diversity amongst mankind with respect to this faculty, with respect to their natural sense of moral good and evil; and the attention necessary to survey with any exactness what passes within, have occasioned that it is not so much agreed what is the standard of the internal nature of man, as of his external form. Neither is this last exactly settled. Yet we understand one another when we speak of the shape of a human body : so likewise we do when we speak of the heart and inward principles, how far soever the standard is from being exact or precisely fixed. There is there fore ground for an attempt of shewing men to them selves, of shewing them what course of life and behaviour their real nature points out and would lead them to. Now obligations of virtue shewn, and motives to the practice of it enforced, from a review of the nature of man, are to be considered as an appeal to each particular person's heart and natural conscience : as the extemal senses are appealed to for the proof of things cognizable by them. Since then our inward feelings, and the perceptions we receive from our external senses, are equaUy real; to argue from the former to life and conduct is as little liable to exception, as to argue from the latter to absolute speculative truth. A man can as little doubt whether his eyes were given him to see with, as he can doubt of the truth of the science of optics, deduced from ocular experiments. And aUowing the inward feeling, shame ; a man can as little doubt whether it was given him to prevent his doing shameful actions, as II.] UPON HUMAN NATURE. 19 he can doubt whether his eyes were given him to guide his steps. And as to these inward feelings themselves ; that they are real, that man has in his nature passions and affections, can no more be ques tioned, than that he has external senses. Neither can the former be wholly mistaken ; though to a certain degree liable to greater mistakes than the latter. There can be no doubt but that several propensions or instincts, several principles in the heart of man, cany him to society, and to contribute to the happi ness of it, in a sense and a manner in which no inward principle leads him to evil These principles, pro- pensions, or instincts which lead him to do good, are approved of by a certain faculty within, quite distinct from these propensions themselves. All this hath been fuUy made out in the foregoing discourse. But it may be said, " What is aU this, though true, to the purpose of virtue and reUgion 1 these require, not only that we do good to others when we are led this way, by benevolence or refiection, happening to be stronger than other principles, passions, or appetites; but likewise that the ivhole character be formed upon thought and reflection; that every action be directed by some determinate rule, some other rule than the sfrength and prevalency of any principle or passion. What sign is there in our nature (for the inquiry is only about what is to be coUected from thence) that this was intended by its Author 1 Or how does so various and fickle a temper as that of man appear adapted thereto 1 It may indeed be absurd and unnatural for men to act with out any reflection ; nay, without regard to that par ticular kind of reflection which you call conscience; because this does belong to our nature. For as there C 2 20 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. never was a man but who approved one place, pros pect, buUding, before another : so it does not appear that there ever was a man who woidd not have ap proved an action of humanity rather than of cruelty ; interest and passion being quite out of the case. But interest and passion do come in, and are often too strong for and prevaU over reflection and conscience. Now as brutes have various instincts, by which they are carried on to the end the Author of their nature intended them for : is not man in the same condition; with this difference only, that to his instincts (i. e. appetites and passions) is added the principle of reflection or conscience 1 And as brutes act agreeably to their nature, in foUo"«dng that principle or par ticular instinct which for the present is strongest in them : does not man likewise act agreeably to his nature, or obey the law of his creation, by following that principle, be it passion or conscience, which for the present happens to be strongest in bim 1 Thus different men are by their particular nature hurried on to pursue honour or riches or pleasure : there are also persons whose temper leads them in an un common degree to kindness, compassion, doing good to their fellow-creatures : as there are others who are given to suspend thefr judgment, to weigh and con sider things, and to act upon thought and reflection. Let every one then quietly foUow his nature; as passion, reflection, appetite, the several parts of it, happen to be strongest : but let not the man of vfrtue take upon him to blame the ambitious, the covetous, the dissolute ; since these equally with him obey and foUow thefr nature. Thus, as in some cases we follow our nature in doing the works con tained in the law, so in other cases we foUow nature in doing contrary." II-J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 21 Now all this licentious talk entirely goes upon a supposition, that men follow thefr nature in the same sense, in violating the known rules of justice and honesty for the sake of a present gratification, as they do in foUowing those rules when they have no temp tation to the contrary. And if this were true, that cotdd not be so which St. Paul asserts, that men are hy nature a law to themselves. If by following nature were meant only acting as we please, it would indeed be ridiculous to speak of nature as any gu^ide in morals : nay the very mention of deviating from nature would be absurd ; and the mention of follow ing it, when spoken by way of distinction, would absolutely have no meaning. For did ever any one act otherwise than as he pleased ? And yet the ancients speak of deviating from nature as vice ; and of foUowing nature so much as a distinction, that according to them the perfection of vfrtue consists therein. So that language itself should teach people another sense to the words folloiving nature, than barely acting as we please. Let it however be observed, that though the words human nature are to be explained, yet the real question of this discourse is not concerning the meaning of words, any other than as the explanation of them may be needful to make out and explain the assertion, that every man is naturally a law to himself, that every one may find within himself the rule of right, and obligations to follow it. This St. Paul affirms in the words of the text, and this the foregoing objection really denies by seeming to allow it. And the objection will be fully answered, and the text before us explained, by observing that nature is considered in different views, and the word used in different senses; and by shewing in what view it is considered, and in 22 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [sERM. what sense the word is used, when intended to express and signify that which is the guide of life, that by which men are a law to themselves. I say, the explanation of the term will be sufficient, because from thence it will appear, that in some senses of the word nature cannot be, but that in another sense it manifestly is, a law to us. I. By nature is often meant no more than some principle in man, without regard either to the kind or degree of it. Thus the passion of anger, and the affection of parents to their chUdren, would be caUed equally natural. And as the same person hath often contrary principles, which at the same time draw contrary ways, he may by the same action both follow and contradict his nature in this sense of the word ; he may foUow one passion and contradict another. II. Nature is frequently spoken of as consisting in those passions which are strongest, and most influence the actions ; which being vicious ones, mankind is in this sense naturaUy vicious, or vicious by nature. Thus St. Paul says of the Glentiles, v)ho were dead in trespasses and sins, and walked according to ihe spirit of disobedience, that they were by nature the children of wrath ". They could be no otherwise children of ¦'wrath by nature, than they were vicious by nature. Here then are two different senses of the word nature, in neither of which men can at aU be said to be a law to themselves. They are mentioned only to be excluded ; to prevent their being confounded, as the latter is in the objection, with another sense of it, which is now to be inquired after and explained. III. The apostle asserts, that the GentUes do ly NATURE the things contained in the law. Nature is a Ephes. ii. 3. n.J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 23 indeed here put by way of distinction from revelation, but yet it is not a mere negative. He intends to ex press more than that by which they did not, that by which they did the works of the law ; namely, by nature. It is plain the meaning of the word is not the same in this pa&sage as in the former, where it is spoken of as evil ; for in this latter it is spoken of as good; as that by which they acted, or might have acted virtuously. What that is in man by which he is naturally a law to himself, is explained in the foUowing words : Winch shew the work of the law written in tlieir hearts, their consciences also hearing witness, and their thoughts the mean while accusing or else excusing one another. If there be a distinc tion to be made between the works written in their hearts, and the witness of conscience ; by the former must be meant the natural disposition to kindness and compassion, to do what is of good report, to which this apostle often refers : that part of the nature of man, treated of in the foregoing discourse, which with very little refiection and of course leads him to society, and by means of which he naturally acts a just and good part in it, unless other passions or interest lead him astray. Yet since other passions, and regards to private interest, which lead us (though indirectly, yet they lead us) astray, are themselves in a degree equally natural, and often most prevalent ; and since we have no method of seeing the particular degrees in which one or the other is placed in us by nature ; it is plain the former, considered merely as natural, good and right as they are, can no more be a law to us than the latter. But there is a superior principle of reflection or conscience in every man, which distinguishes between the internal principles of his heart, as well as his external actions : which 24 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. passes judgment upon himself and them; pronounces determinately some actions to be in themselves just, right, good ; others to be in themselves evU, wrong, unjust : which, without being consulted, without being advised with, magisterially exerts itself, and approves or condemns him the doer of them accord ingly : and which, if not forcibly stopped, naturaUy and always of course goes on to anticipate a higher and more effectual sentence, which shall hereafter second and affirm its own. But this part of the office of conscience is beyond my present design ex plicitly to consider. It is by this faculty, natural to man, that he is a moral agent, that he is a law to himself : but this faculty, I say, not to be considered merely as a principle in his heart, which is to have some influence as well as others ; but considered as a faculty in kind and in nature supreme over all others, and which bears its own authority of being so. This prerogative, this natural supremacy, of the faculty which surveys, approves or disapproves the several affections of our mind and actions of our Uves, being that by which men are a law to them selves, their conformity or disobedience to which law of our nature renders thefr actions, in the highest and most proper sense, natural or unnatural; it is fit it be further explained to you : and I hope it wdl be so, if you will attend to the foUowing reflections. Man may act according to that principle or inclina tion which for the present happens to be strongest, and yet act in a way disproportionate to, and violate his real proper nature. Suppose a brute creature by any bait to be aUured into a snare, by which he is destroyed. He plaualy foUowed the bent of his nature, leading him to gratify his appetite : there is an entfre correspondence between his whole nature II.j UPON HUMAN NATURE. 25 and such an action : such action therefore is natural. But suppose a man, foreseeing the same danger of certain ruin, should rush into it for the sake of a present gratification ; he in this instance would follow his sfrongest desire, as did the brute creature : but there would be as manifest a disproportion, between the nature of a man and such an action, as between the meanest work of art and the skiU of the greatest master in that art: which disproportion arises, not from considering the action singly in itself, or in its consequences; but from comparison of it with the nature of the agent. And since such an action is utterly disproportionate to the nature of man, it is in the strictest and most proper sense unnatural; this word expressing that disproportion. Therefore in stead of the words disproportionate to his nature, the word unnatural may now be put ; this being more familiar to us : but let it be observed, that it stands for the same thing precisely. Now what is it which renders such a rash action unnatural 1 Is it that he went against the principle of reasonable and cool self-love, considered merely as a part of his nature ? No : for if he had acted the contrary way, he would equally have gone against a ¦ principle, or part of his nature, namely, passion or appetite. But to deny a present appetite, from fore sight that the gratification of it would end in im mediate ruin or extreme misery, is by no means an unnatural action : whereas to contradict or go against cool self-love for the sake of such gratification, is so in the instance before us. Such an action then being unnatural; and its being so not arising from a man's going against a principle or desire barely, nor in going against that principle or desfre which happens for the present to be strongest ; it necessarUy foUows, 26 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SEEM. that there must be some other difference or distmc tion to be made between these two priciciples, passion and cooh self-love, than what I have yet taken notice of. And this difference, not being a difference in strength or degree, I call a difference in nature and in kind. And since, in the instance stUl before us, if passion prevails over self-love, the consequent action is unnatural; but if self-love prevaUs over passion, the action is natural : it is manifest that self-love is ia human nature a superior principle to passion. This may be contradicted without violating that nature ; but the former cannot. So that, if we wUl act con formably to the economy of man's nature, rea,s^able self-love must govem. Thus, without particular con sideration of conscience, we may have a clear concep tion of the superior nature of one inward principle to another ; and see that there ready is this natural superiority, quite distinct from degrees of strength and prevalency. Let us now take a view of the nature of man, as consisting partly of various appetites, passions, affec tions, and partly of the principle of reflection or conscience ; leaving quite out aU consideration of the different degrees of strength, in which either of them prevaU, and it wiU further appear that there is this natural superiority of one inward principle to another, and that it is even part of the idea of reflection or conscience. Passion or appetite implies a dfrect simple tendency towards such and such objects, without distinction of the means by which they are to be obtained. Con sequently it wUl often happen there wiU be a desfre of particular objects, in cases where they cannot be obtained without manifest injury to others. Reflec tion or conscience comes in, and disapproves the II-l UPON HUMAN NATURE. 27 pursuit of them in these circumstances ; but the desfre remains. Which is to be obeyed, appetite or ' reflection ? Cannot this question be answered, from the economy and constitution of human nature merely, without saying which is strongest ? Or need this at aU come into consideration 1 Wotdd not the question be intelligibly and fully answered by saying, that the principle of reflection or conscience being compared with the various appetites, passions, and affections in men, the former is manifestly superior and chief, without regard to strength 1 And how often soever the latter happens to prevad, it is mere ' usurpation : the former remains in nature and in kind its superior; and every instance of such pre valence of the latter is an instance of breaking in upon and violation of the constitution of man. All this is no more than the distinction, which,,, every body is acquainted with, between mere power and authority : only instead of being intended to express the difference between what is possible, and what is lawful in civil government ; here it has been shewn applicable to the several principles in the mind of man. Thus that principle, by which we survey, and either approve or disapprove our own heart, temper, and actions, is not only to be con sidered as what is in its turn to have some influence ; which may be said of every passion, of the lowest appetites : but likewise as being superior ; as from its very nature manifestly claiming superiority over aU others : insomuch that you cannot form a notion of this faculty, conscience, without taking in judg ment, direction, superintendency. This is a con stituent part of the idea, that is, of the faculty itself: and, to preside and govern, from the very economy and constitution of man, belongs to it. Had it 28 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. strength, as it had right ; had it power, as it had manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world. This gives us a further view of the natvire of man; shews us what course of life we were made for : not only that our real nature leads us to be influenced in some degree by reflection and conscience; but like wise in what degree we are to be influenced by it, if we will fall in with, and act agreeably to the consti tution of our nature : that this faculty was placed within to be our proper governor; to direct and regulate aU under principles, passions, and motives of action. This is its right and office : thus sacred is its authority. And how often soever men violate and rebelHously refuse to submit to it, for supposed interest which they cannot otherwise obtain, or for the sake of passion which they cannot otherwise gratify; this makes no alteration as to the natural right and officS of conscience. Let us now turn this whole matter another way, and suppose there was no such thing at aU as this natural supremacy of conscience ; that there was no distinction to be made between one inward principle and another, but only that of strength ; and see what would be the consequence. Consider then what is the latitude and compass of the actions of man with regard to himself, his fellow- creatures, and the Supreme Being 1 What are their bounds, besides that of our natural power 1 With respect to the two first, they are plainly no other than these : no man seeks misery as such for himself; and no one unprovoked does mischief to another for its own sake. For in every degree within these bounds, mankind knowingly from passion or wanton ness bring ruin and misery upon themselves and II.J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 29 others. And impiety and profaneness, I mean, what every one would call so who beUeves the being of Grod, have absolutely no bounds at all. Men blaspheme the Author of nature, formaUy and in words renounce their aUegiance to their Creator. Put an instance then with respect to any one of these three. Though we should suppose profane swearing, and in general that kind of impiety now mentioned, to mean nothing, yet it implies wanton disregard and irreverence towards an infinite Being, our Creator; and is this as suitable to the nature of man, as reverence and dutiful submission of heart towards that Almighty Being 1 Or suppose a man guUty of parricide, with all the circumstances of cruelty which such an action can admit of. This action is done in consequence of its principle being for the present strongest : and if there be no differ ence between inward principles, but only that of strength ; the strength being given, you have the whole nature of the man given, so far as it relates to this matter. The action plainly corresponds to the principle, the principle being in that degree of strength it was : it therefore corresponds to the whole nature of the man. Upon comparing the action and the whole nature, thtere arises no dispro portion, there appears no unsuitableness between them. Thus the murder of a father and the nature of man correspond to each other, as the same nature and an act of fiUal duty. If there be no difference between inward principles, but only that of strength ; we can make no distinction between these two actions, considered as the actions of such a creature ; but in our coolest hours must approve or disapprove them equaUy: than which nothing can be reduced to a greater absurdity. 30 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SEEM. SERMON III. THE natural supremacy of refiection or conscience being thus estabUshed ; we may from it form a distinct notion of what is meant by human nature, when virtue is said to consist in following it, and vice in deviating from it. As the idea of a civil constitution implies ia it united strength, various subordinations, under one direction, that ofthe supreme authority; the different strength of each particular member of the society not coming into the idea ; whereas, if you leave out the subordination, the union, and the one dfrection, you destroy and lose it : so reason, several appetites, passions, and affections, prevailing in different degrees of strength, is not that idea or notion of huTnan nature ; but that nature consists in these several principles considered as having a natural respect to each other, in the several passions being naturaUy subordinate to the one superior principle of reflection or conscience. Every bias, instinct, propension with in, is a natural part of our nature, but not the whole: add to these the superior faculty, whose office it is to adjust, manage, and preside over them, and take in this its natural superiority, and you complete the idea of human nature. And as in civU government the constitution is broken in upon, and violated by power and strength prevailing over authority; so the constitution of man is broken in upon and violated by the lower faculties or principles within prevailing over that which is in its nature supreme over them aU. Thus, when it is said by ancient writers, that tortures and death are not so contrary III.] UPON HUMAN NATURE. 31 to human nature as injustice ; by this to be sure is ' not meant, that the aversion to the former in man kind is less strong and prevalent than their aversion to the latter : but that the former is only contrary to our nature considered in a partial view, and which takes in only the lowest part of it, that which we have in common with the brutes ; whereas the latter is contrary to our nature, considered in a higher sense, as a system and constitution contrary to the whole economy of man'^. !> Every man in his physical nature is one individual single agent. He has likewise properties and principles, each of which may be con sidered separately, and without regard to the respects which they have to each other. Neither of these are the nature we are taking a view of. But it is the inward frame of man considered as a system or constitution: whose several parts are united, not by a physical principle of individuation, but by the respects they have to each other ; the chief of which is the subjection which the appetites, passions, and particular affections have to the one supreme principle of reflection or conscience. The system or constitution is formed by and consists in these respects and this subjection. Thus the body is a sgstem or constitution: so is a tree : so is every machioe. Consider all the several parts of a tree without the natural respects they have to each other, and you have not at all the idea of a tree ; but add these respects, and this gives you the idea. The body may be impaired by sickness, a tree may decay, a machine be out of order, and yet the system and constitution of them not totally dissolved. There is plainly somewhat which answers to all this in the moral constitution of man. Whoever will consider his own nature, will see that the several appetites, passions, and particular affections, have different respects amongst themselves. They are restraints upon, and are in a proportion to each other. This proportion is just and perfect, when all those under principles are perfectly coincident with con science, so far as their nature permits, and in all cases under its absolute and entire direction. The least excess or defect, the least alteration of the due proportions amongst themselves, or of their coin cidence with conscience, though not proceeding into action, is some degree of disorder in the moral constitution. But perfection, though 32 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SEEM. And from aU these things put together, nothing can be more evident, than that, exclusive of revelation, man cannot be considered as a creature left by his Maker to act at random, and live at large up to the extent of his natural power, as passion, humour, wU- fulness, happen to carry him ; which is the condition brute creatures are in: but th&i from his make, con stitution, or nature, he is in die strictest and most proper sense a laiv to himself. He hath the rule of right within : what is wanting is only that he honestly attend to it. The inquiries which have been made by men of leisure after some general rule, the conformity to, or disagreement from which, should denominate our actions good or evU, are in many respects of great service. Yet let any plain honest man, before he engages in any course of action, ask himself. Is this I am going about right, or is it wrong 1 Is it good, or is it evil 1 I do not in the least doubt, but that this question would be answered agreeably to truth and virtue, by almost any fafr man in almost any cfrcum- stance. Neither do there appear any cases which look like exceptions to this ; but those of superstition, and of partiality to ourselves. Superstition may perhaps be somewhat of an exception : but partiality to ourselves is not; this being itself dishonesty. For plainly intelligible and unsupposable, was never attaiaed by any man. If the higher principle of reflection maintains its place, and as much as it can corrects that disorder, and hinders it from breaking out into action, this is all that can be expected in such a creature as man. And though the appetites and passions have not their exact due proportion to each other ; though they often strive for mastery with judgment or reflection : yet, since the superiority of this prin ciple to all others is the chief respect which forms the constitution, so far as this superiority is maintained, the character, the man, is good, worthy, virtuous. n.J UPON HUMAN NATURE. 33 a man to judge that to be the equitable, the moderate, the right part for him to act, which he would see to be hard, unjust, oppressive in another ; this is plain vice, and can proceed only from great unfafrness of mind. But allowing that mankind hath the rule of right within himself, yet it may be asked, " What obliga tions are we under to attend to and follow it 1 " I answer : it has been proved that man by his nature is a law to himself, without the particular distinct consideration of the positive sanctions of that law; the rewards and punishments which we feel, and those which from the light of reason we have ground to beUeve, are annexed to it. The question then carries its own answer along with it. Your obliga tion to obey this law, is its being the law of your nature. That your conscience approves of and attests i to such a course of action, is itself alone an obliga tion. Conscience does not only offer itself to shew us the way we should walk in, but it likewise carries its own authority with it, that it is our natural guide ; the guide assigned us by the Author of our nature : it therefore belongs to our condition of being, it is our duty to walk in that path, and follow this guide, without looking about to see whether we may not possibly forsake them with impunity. However, let us hear what is to be said against obeying this law of our nature. And the sum is no more than this : " Why should we be concerned about any thing out of and beyond ourselves 1 If we do find within ourselves regards to others, and restraints of we know not how many different kinds ; yet these being embarrassments, and hindering us from going the nearest way to our own good, why BlITLEE, SERMONS. D 34: UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. should we not endeavour to suppress and get over themf Thus people go on with words, which, when ap plied to human nature, and the condition in which it is placed in this world, have reaUy no meaning. For does not aU this kuid of talk go upon supposition, that our happiness in this world consists in some what quite distinct from regard to others ; and that it is the privUege of vice to be without restraint or confinement ? Whereas, on the contrary, the enjoy ments, in a manner all the common enjoyments of life, even the pleasures of vice, depend upon these regards of one kind or another to our fellow-creatures. Throw off aU regards to others, and we should be quite indifferent to infamy and to honour ; there could be no such thing at all as ambition ; and scarce any such thing as covetousness ; for we should like wise be equally indifferent to the disgrace of poverty, the several neglects and kinds of contempt which accompany this state ; and to the reputation of riches, the regard and respect they usually procure. Neither is restraint by any means pecuUar to one course of life ; but our very nature, exclusive of con science and our condition, lays us under an absolute necessity of it. We cannot gain any end whatever without being confined to the proper means, which is often the most painful and uneasy confinement. And m numberless instances a present appetite cannot be gratified without such apparent and immediate ruin and misery, that the most dissolute man in the world chooses to forego the pleasure, rather than endure the pain. Is the meaning then, to indulge those regards to our feUow-creatures, and submit to those restramts, which upon the whole are attended with more satis- III.] UPON HUMAN NATURE. 35 faction than uneasiness, and get over only those which bring more uneasiness and inconvenience than satisfaction 1 " Doubtless this was our meaning." You have changed sides then. Keep to this ; be consistent with yourselves ; and you and the men of virtue are in gene red perfectly agreed. But let us take care and avoid mistakes. Let it not be taken for granted that the temper of envy, rage, resent ment, yields greater deUght than meekness, forgive ness, compassion, and good-wUl: especiaUy when it is acknowledged that rage, envy, resentment, are in themselves mere misery; and the satisfaction arising from the indulgence of them is Uttle more than reUef from that misery; whereas the temper of compassion and benevolence is itself delightful ; and the in dulgence of it, by doing good, affords new positive delight and enjoyment. Let it not be taken for granted, that the satisfaction arising from the reputa tion of riches and power, however obtained, and from the respect paid to them, is greater than the satisfaction arising from the reputation of justice, honesty, charity, and the esteem which is universally acknowledged to be thefr due. And if it be doubtful which of these satisfactions is the greatest, as there are persons who think neither of them very con siderable, yet there can be no doubt concerning ambition and covetousness, virtue and a good mind, considered in themselves, and as leading to different courses of life ; there can, I say, be no doubt, which temper and which course is attended with most peace and tranquillity of mind, which with most per plexity, vexation, and inconvenience. And both the virtues and vices which have been now mentioned, do in a manner equally imply in them regards of one kind or another to our fellow-creatures. And with D 3 36 UPON HUMAN NATURE. [SERM. respect to restraint and confinement : whoever wiU consider the restraints from fear and shame, the dissimulation, mean arts of concealment, servile com pliances, one or other of which belong to almost every course of vice, will soon be convinced that the man of virtue is by no means upon a disadvantage in this respect. How many instances are there in which men feel and own and ciy aloud under the chains of vice with which they are enthralled, and which yet they will not shake off! How many instances, in which persons manifestly go through more pains and self-denial to gratify a vicious passion, than would have been necessary to the conquest of it! To this is to be added, that when virtue is become habitual, when the temper of it is acqufred, what was before confinement ceases to be so, by becoming choice and delight. Whatever restraint and guard upon ourselves may be needful to unlearn any unnatural distortion or odd gesture ; yet, in all propriety of speech, natural behaviour must be the most easy and unrestrained. It is manifest that, in the common course of life, there is seldom any in consistency between our duty and what is called interest : it is much seldom er that there is an incon sistency between duty and what is really our present interest ; meaning by interest, happiness and satis faction. Self-love then, though confined to the interest of the present world, does in general perfectly coincide with virtue ; and leads us to one and the same course of life. But, whatever exceptions there are to this, which are much fewer than they are commonly thought, aU shaU be set right at the final distribution of things. It is a manifest absurdity to suppose evil prevailing finally over good, under the conduct and administration of a perfect mind. III.] UPON HUMAN NATURE. 37 The whole argument, which I have been now insisting upon, may be thus summed up, and given you in orie view. The nature of man is adapted to some course of action or other. Upon comparing some actions with this nature, they appear suitable and correspondent to it : from comparison of other actions with the same nature, there arises to our view some unsuitableness or disproportion. The correspondence of actions to the nature of the agent renders them natural : thefr disproportion to it, un natural. That an action is correspondent to the nature of the agent, does not arise from its being agreeable to the principle which happens to be the strongest : for it may be so, and yet be quite dis proportionate to the nature of the agent. The cor respondence therefore, or disproportion, arises from somewhat else. This can be nothing but a difference in nature and kind, altogether distinct from strength, between the inward principles. Some then are in nature and kind superior to others. And the corre spondence arises from the action being conformable to the higher principle; and the unsuitableness from its being contrary to it. Reasonable self-love and con science are the chief or superior principles in the nature of man : because an action may be suitable to tliis nature, though aU other principles be violated ; but becomes unsuitable, if either of those are. Con science and self-love, if we understand our true happiness, always lead us the same way. Duty and interest are perfectly coincident ; for the most part in this world, but entirely and in every instance if we take in the future, and the whole ; this being impHed in the notion of a good and perfect adminis tration of things. Thus they who have been so wise in their generation as to regard only their own 38 UPON HUMAN NATURE. supposed interest, at the expense and to the injury of others, shall at last find, that he who has given up all the advantages of the present world, rather than violate his conscience and the relations of life, has infinitely better provided for himself, and secured his own interest and happiness. SEEMON IV. UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. JAitES i. 26. y any man among you seem to lie religions, and bridleth not iis tongiu; but dtveirefh his own- heart, this man's religion. is vain. n^HE ti"anslation of this text would be more de- -*- terminate by being more Uteral, thus : If any -wan among you seemeth to be religious, not bridling his tongue, hut deceiving his own heart, this man's religion is vain. This dotenuines tliat the words, hut deceiveth his own heart, oto not put in opposition to, ,'icemcth to be religious, but to, bridleth not his tongue. The certain determioate meaning of the text then being, tliat he who seeuieth to be religiotis, and bridletla not his tongue, but in that pai'ticular deceiveth his own heart, tliis man's religion is vain ; wo may observe somewhat very forcible and ex pressive in tliese words of St. James. As if the apostle had said. No man surely can midvc any pretences to religion, who does not at least believe tliat he bridletli his tongue : if he puts on any appojivanco or face of reUgion, and yet does not govern Ids tongue, he must surely deceive himself in that particular, aiid think he does : and whoever is so imhappy as to deceive himself in this, to 40 UPON THE GOVERNMENT [SERM. imagine he keeps that unmly faculty in due sub jection, when indeed he does not, whatever the other part of his life be, his reUgion is vam ; the govern ment of the tongue being a most material restraint which virtue lays us under : ^vithout it no man can be truly religious. In treating upon this subject, I wUl consider, First, What is the general vice or fault here referred to : or what disposition in men is supposed in moral reflections and precepts concerning bridling the tongue. Secondly, When it may be said of any one, that he has a due government over himself in this respect. I. Now the fault referred to, and the disposition supposed, in precepts and reflections concerning the government of the tongue, is not evil-speaking from maUce, nor lying or bearing false witness from in- dfrect selfish designs. The disposition to these, and the actual vices themselves, all come under other subjects. The tongue may be employed about, and made to serve all the purposes of vice, in tempting and deceiving, in perjury and injustice. But the I thing here supposed and referred to, is talkativeness : a disposition to be talking, abstracted from the con sideration of what is to be said ; with very little or no regard to, or thought of doing, either good or harm. And let not any imagine this to be a slight matter, and that it deserves not to have so great weight laid upon it ; tUl he has considered, what evil is implied in it, and the bad effects which follow from it. It is perhaps true, that they who are addicted to this folly would choose to confine them selves to trifles and indifferent subjects, and so intend only to be guilty of being impertinent : but as they cannot go on for ever talking of nothing, as common IV. J OE THE TONGUE. 41 matters will not afford a sufficient fmid for perpetual continued discourse : when subjects of this kind are exhausted, they will go on to defamation, scandal, divulging of secrets, their own secrets as well as those of others, any thing rather than be silent. They are plainly hurried on in the heat of their talk to say quite different things from what they first intended, and which they afterwards wish unsaid: or improper things, which they had no other end in saying, but only to afford employment to their tongue. And if these people expect to be heard and regarded, for there are some content merely with talking, they wUl invent to engage your attention : and, when they have heard the least imperfect hint of an affafr, they wdl out of thefr own head add the circumstances of time and place, and other matters to make out their story, and give the appearance of probability to it: not that they have any concern about being believed, otherwise than as a means of being heard. The thing is, to engage your atten tion ; to take you up wholly for the present time : what reflections will be made afterwards, is in truth the least of their thoughts. And further, when persons, who indulge themselves in these liberties of the tongue, are in any degree offended with another, as little disgusts and misunderstandings will be, they allow themselves to defame and revile such an one without any moderation or bounds ; though the offence is so very slight, that they themselves would not do, nor perhaps wish him an injury in any other way. And in this case the scandal and revilings are chiefiy owing to talkativeness, and not bridUng thefr tongue ; and so come under our present subject. The least occasion in the world wUl make the humour break out in this particular way, or in 42 UPON THE GOVERNMENT [SERM. another. It is Uke a torrent, which must and will flow ; but the least thing imaginable wiU ffrst of all give it either this or another direction, turn it into this or that channel : or Uke a fire ; the nature of which, when in a heap of combustible matter, is to spread and lay waste all around ; but any one of a thousand little accidents wiU occasion it to break out first either in this or another particular part. The subject then before us, though it does run up into, and can scarce be treated as entfrely distinct from aU others ; yet it needs not be so much mixed or blended with them as it often is. Every faculty and power may be used as the instrument of pre meditated vice and wickedness, merely as the most proper and effectual means of executing such designs. But if a man, from deep malice and desire of revenge, should meditate a falsehood with a settled design to min his neighbour's reputation, and should with great coolness and deliberation spread it ; nobody would choose to say of such an one, that he had no government of his tongue. A man may use the faculty of speech as an instrument of false witness, who yet has so entfre a command over that faculty, as never to speak but from forethought and cool design. Here the crime is injustice and perjury: and, strictly speaking, no more belongs to the present subject, than perjury and injustice in any other way. But there is such a thing as a disposition to be talking for its own sake ; from which persons often say any thing, good or bad, of others, merely as a subject of discourse, according to the particular temper they themselves happen to be in, and to pass away the present time. There is likewise to be observed in persons such a strong and eager desfre of engaging attention to what they say, that they IV.] OP THE TONGUE. 43 will speak good or evil, truth or otherwise, merely as one or the other seems to be most hearkened to : and this, though it is sometimes joined, is not the same with the desire of being thought important and men of consequence. There is in some such a disposition to be talking, that an offence of the sUghtest kind, and such as would not raise any other resentment, yet raises, if I may so speak, the re sentment of the tongue, puts it into a flame, into the most ungovernable motions. This outrage, when the person it respects is present, we distinguish in the lower rank of people by a peculiar term : and let it be observed, that though the decencies of behaviour are a Uttle kept, the same outrage and virulence, indulged when he is absent, is an offence of the same kind. But not to distinguish any further in this manner : men run into faults and foUies, which cannot so properly be referred to any one general head as this, that they have not a due government over thefr tongue. And this unrestrained volubUity and wantonness of speech is the occasion of numberless evils and vexations in Ufe. It begets resentment in him who is the subject of it ; sows the seed of strife and dissension amongst others ; and inflames little dis gusts and offences, which if let alone would wear away of themselves : it is often of as bad effect upon the good name of others, as deep envy or malice: and, to say the least of it in this respect, it destroys and perverts a certain equity of the utmost import ance to society to be observed; namely, that praise and dispraise, a good or bad character, should always be bestowed according to desert. The tongue used in such a licentious manner is Hke a sword in the hand of a madman ; it is employed at random, it can 44 UPON THE GOVERNMENT [SERM. scarce possibly do any good, and for the most part does a world of mischief; and implies not only great foUy and a trifling spirit, but great viciousness of mind, great indifference to truth and falsity, and to the reputation, welfare, and good of others. So much reason is there for what St. James says of the tongue % It is a fire, a world of iniquity, it deflleth the ivhole body, setteth onflrethe course of nature, and is itself set on flre of hell. This is the faculty or disposition which we are requfred to keep a guard upon : these are the vices and follies it runs into, when not kept under due restraint. II. Wherein the due government of the tongue consists, or when it may be said of any one in a moral and religious sense that he bridleth his tongue, I come now to consider. The due and proper use of any natural faculty or power, is to be judged of by the end and design for which it was given us. The chief purpose, for which the faculty of speech was given to man, is plainly that we might commumcate our thoughts to each other, in order to carry on the affairs of the world ; for business, and for our improvement in knowledge and leaming. But the good Author of our nature designed us not only necessaries, but likewise en joyment and satisfaction, in that being he hath graciously given, and in that condition of life he hath placed us in. There are secondary uses of our faculties : they administer^ to dehght, as well as to necessity : and as they are equally adapted to both, there is no doubt but he intended them for our gratification, as well as for the support and con tinuance of our being. The secondary use of speech is to please and be entertaining to each other in a Chap. iii. ver. 6. IV.J OP THE TONGUE. 45 conversation. This is in every respect allowable and right: it unites men closer in alliances and friendships ; gives us a fellow-feeling of the pros perity and unhappiness of each other ; and is in several respects serviceable to virtue, and to pro mote good behaviour in the world. And provided there be not too much time spent in it, if it were considered only in the way of gratification and de Ught, men must have strange notion of God and of religion, to think that he can be offended with it, or that it is any way inconsistent with the strictest virtue. But the truth is, such sort of conversation, though it has no particular good tendency, yet it has a general good one : it is social and friendly, and tends to promote humanity, good-nature, and civility. As the end and use, so Hkewise the abuse of speech, relates to the one or other of these ; either to business or to conversation. As to the former; deceit in the management of business and affairs does not properly belong to the subject now before us : though one may just mention that multitude, that endless number of words, with which business is perplexed ; when a much fewer would, as it should seem, better serve the purpose : but this must be left to those who understand the matter. The government of the tongue, considered as a sub ject of itself, relates chiefly to conversation ; to that kind of discourse which usually fills up the time spent in friendly meetings, and visits of civdity. And the danger is, lest persons entertain themselves and others at the expense of their wisdom and their virtue, and to the injury or offence of their neigh bour. If they will observe and keep clear of these, they may be as free and easy and unreserved as they can desire. 46 UPON THE GOVERNMENT [SERM. The cautions to be given for avoiduag these dangers, and to render conversation innocent and agreeable, faU under the foUowing particulars : sUence ; talking of indifferent things ; and, which makes up too great a part of conversation, giving of characters, speaking weU or evU of others. The Wise Man observes, that there is a time to speak, and a time to keep silence. One meets with people in the world, who seem never to have made the last of these observations. And yet these great talkers do not at aU speak from their having any thing to say, as every sentence shews, but only from thefr in clination to be talking. Thefr conversation is merely an exercise of the tongue : no other human laculty has any share in it. It is strange these persons can help reflecting, that unless they have in truth a superior capacity, and are in an extraordinary manner furnished for conversation ; if they are enter taining, it is at their own expense. Is it possible, that it should never come into people's thoughts to sus pect, whether or no it be to their advantage to shew so very much of themselves % 0 that you would alto gether hold your peobce, and it should he your wisdom^. Remember Ukewise there are persons who love fewer words, an inoffensive sort of people, and who deserve some regard, though of too stUl and composed tempers for you. Of this number was the Son of Sfrach : for he plainly speaks from experience, when he says. As hills of sand are to the steps ofthe aged, so is one of many words to a quiet man. But one would think it should be obvious to every one, that when they are in company with their superiors of any kind, in years, knowledge, and experience ; when b Job xiii. IV.] OP THE TONGUE. 47 proper and useful subjects are discoursed of, which they cannot bear a part in ; that these are times for sdence : when they should leam to hear, and be attentive ; at least in thefr turn. It is indeed a very unhappy way these people are in : they in a manner cut themselves out from all advantage of conversa tion, except that of being entertained with their own talk : thefr business in coming into company not being at all to be informed, to hear, to learn ; but to display themselves ; or rather to exert thefr faculty, and talk without any design at aU. And if we con sider conversation as an entertainment, as somewhat to unbend the mind ; as a diversion from the cares, the business, and the sorrows of life ; it is of the very nature of it, that the discourse be mutual. This, I say, is impHed in the very notion of what we dis tinguish by conversation, or being in company. Attention to the continued discourse of one alone grows more painfid often, than the cares and business we come to be diverted from. He therefore who imposes this upon us is guUty of a double offence ; arbitrarUy enjoining sUence upon all the rest, and likewise obliging them to this painful attention. I am sensible these things are apt to be passed over, as too Uttle to come into a serious discourse ; but in reality men are obliged, even in point of morality and virtue, to observe all the decencies of behaviour. The greatest evils in life have had their rise from somewhat, which was thought of too little importance to be attended to. And as to the matter we are now upon, it is absolutely necessary to be considered. For if people wiU not maintain a due government over themselves, in regarding proper times and seasons for sUence, but will be talking ; they certainly, whether they design it or not at first, 48 UPON THE GOVERNMENT [SER.M. wiU go on to scandal and evil-speaking, and divulging secrets. If it were needful to say any thing further, to persuade men to learn this lesson of silence ; one might put them in mind, how msignificant they render themselves by this excessive talkativeness : insomuch that, if they do chance to say any thing which deserves to be attended to and regarded, it is lost in the variety and abundance which they utter of another sort. The occasions of silence then are obvious, and one would think should be easily distinguished by every body : namely, when a man has nothing to say ; or nothing, but what is better unsaid : better, either in regard to the particular persons he is present with ; or from its being an interruption to conversa tion itself; or to conversation of a more agreeable kind ; or better, lastly, with regard to himself I will end this particular with two refiections of the Wise Man : one of which, in the strongest manner, exposes the ridiculous part of this licentiousness of the tongue ; and the other, the great danger and viciousness ofit. }VJien he that is a fool walketh hy the way side, his ivisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool'. The other is. In the multitude ofl ivord s there wanteth not sin^. As to the government of the tongue in respect to talking upon indifferent subjects : after what has been said concerning the due government of it in respect to the occasions and times for sUence, there is little more necessary, than only to caution men to be fuUy satisfied, that the subjects are indeed of an indifferent nature ; and not to spend too much time m conversation of this kind. But persons must be <: Eccles. X. 3. d Proy. x. 19. IV.J OP THE TONGUE. 49 sure to take heed, that the subject of thefr discourse be at least of an indifferent nature : that it be no way offensive to vfrtue, religion, or good manners; that it be not of a licentious dissolute sort, this leaving always ill impressions upon the mind ; that it be no way injurious or vexatious to others; and that too much time be not spent this way, to the neglect of those duties and offices of life which belong to their station and condition in the woild. However, though there is not any necessity that men should aim at being important and weighty in every sentence they speak : yet since useful subjects, at least of some kinds, are as entertainmg as others ; a wise man, even when he desires to unbend his mind from business, would choose that the conversa tion might turn upon somewhat instructive. The last thing is, the government of the tongue as relating to discourse of the affairs of others, and giving of characters. These are in a manner the same : and one can scarce caU it an indifferent sub ject, because discom'se upon it almost perpetuaUy runs into somewhat criminal. And first of all, it were very much to be wished that this did not take up so great a part of con versation; because it is indeed a subject of a dangerous nature. Let any one consider the various interests, competitions, and Uttle misunderstandings which arise amongst men ; and he wdl soon see, that he is not unprejudiced and impartial ; that he is not, as I may speak, neutral enough, to trust himself with talking of the character and concerns of his neighbour, in a free, careless, and unreserved manner. There is perpetually, and often it is not attended to, a rivalship amongst people of one kind or another, in respect to wit, beauty, learning, fortune, and that BUTLEE, SERMONS. E 50 UPON THE GOVERNMENT [SEEM. one thing wdl insensibly influence them to speak to the disadvantage of others, even where there is no formed malice or Ul-design. Since therefore it is so hard to enter into this subject without offending, the first thing to be observed is, that people should learn to decline it; to get over that strong inclination most have to be talking of the concerns and be haviour of their neighbour. Bift since it is impossible that this subject should be wholly excluded conversation ; and since it is necessary that the characters of men should be known : the next thing is, that it is a matter of importance what is said ; and therefore, that we should be religiously scrupulous and exact to say nothing, either good or bad, but what is true. I put it thus, because it is in reality of as great importance to the good of society, that the characters of bad men should be known, as that the characters of good men should. People, who are given to scandal and detraction, may indeed make an iU use of this ob servation; but truths, which are of service towards regulating our conduct, are not to be disowned, or even concealed, because a bad use may be made of them. This however would be effectuaUy prevented, if these two things were attended to. First, That, though it is equally of bad consequence to society, that men should have either good or ill characters which they do not deserve ; yet, when you say somewhat good of a man which he does not deserve, there is no wrong done him in particular ; whereas, when you say evU of a man which he does not deserve, here is a dfrect formal injury, a real piece of injustice done him. This therefore makes a wide difference; and gives us, in point of virtue, much greater latfrude in speaking weU than dl of others. IV.J OF THE TONGUE. 51 Secondly, A good man is friendly to his fellow- creatures, and a lover of mankind ; and so wdl, upon every occasion, and often without any, say aU the good he can of every body: but, so far as he is a good man, wdl never be disposed to speak evil of any, imless there be some other reason fbr it, besides barely that it is frue. If he be charged with having given an Ul character, he wdl scarce think it a sufficient justification of himself to say it was a true one, unless he can also give some further account how he came to do so : a just iadignation against particular instances of villainy, where they are great and scandalous ; or to prevent an innocent man from being deceived and betrayed, when he has great trust and confidence in one who does not deserve it. Justice must be done to every part of a subject when we are considering it. If there be a man, who bears a fair character in the world, whom yet we know to be without faith or honesty, to be reaUy an ill man ; it must be allowed in general, that we shall do a piece of service to society, by letting such an one's true character be known. This is no more than what we have an instance of in our Saviour himself " ; though he was mild and gentle beyond example. However, no words can express too strongly the caution which should be used in such a case as this. Upon the whole inatter : If people would observe the obvious occasions of silence, if they would subdue the inclination to talebearing, and that eager desfre to engage attention, which is an original disease in some minds ; they would be in little danger of offending with their tongue ; and would, in a moral and religious sense, have due government over it. e Mark xii. 38, 40. E 2 52 UPON THE GOVERNMENT OP THE TONGUE. I wiU conclude with some precepts and reflections of the Son of Sirach upon this subject. Be swift to hear ; and, if thou hast understanding, answer thy neighbour ; if not, lay ihy hand upon thy mouth. Honour and shame is in talk. A man of an ill tongue is dangerous in his city, and he that is rash in his talk shall be hated. A wise man will hold his tongue till he see opportunity ; but a babbler and a fool will regard no time. He that useth many words shall he abhorred ; and he that taketh to himself authority therein, shall he hated. A backbiting tongue hath disquieted many ; strong cities hath it pulled down, and overthrown the houses of great men. The tongue of a man is his fall; but ifl thou love to hear, thou shalt receive understanding. SERMON y. UPON COMPASSION. EoM. xii. 15. Rejoice with ihem that do rejoice, and weep with them thai weep. "PVERY man is to be considered in two capacities, the private and public; as designed to pursue his own interest, and likewise to contribute to the good of others. Whoever wiU consider, may see, that in general there is no contrariety between these ; but that from the original constitution of man, and the circumstances he is placed in, they perfectly coincide, and mutually carry on each other. But, amongst the great variety of affections or principles of action in our nature, some in thefr primary intention and design seem to belong to the single or private, others to the pubUc or social capacity. The affections re quired in the text are of the latter sort. When we rejoice in the prosperity of others, and compassionate their distresses, we, as it were, substitute them for ourselves, thefr interest for our own ; and have the same kind of pleasure in thefr prosperity, and sorrow in their distress, as we have from reflection upon our own. Now there is nothing strange or unaccountable in our being thus carried out, and affected towards 54 UPON COMPASSION. [SERM. the interests of others. For, if there be any appetite, or any inward principle besides self-love ; why may there not be an affection to the good of our fellow- creatures, and delight from that affection's being grati fied, and uneasiness from things going contrai y to it " ? a There being manifestly this appearance of men's substituting others for tliemselves, and being carried out and affected towards them as towards themselves ; some persons, who have a system which excludes every affection of this sort, have taken a pleasant method to solve it ; and tell you it is not another you are at all con cerned about, but your self only, when you feel tho affection called compassion, i.e. Here is a plain matter of fact, which men cannot reconcile with the general account thoy think fit to give of things : thoy therefore, instead of that manifest fact, substitute another, which is reconcilable to tlieir own scheme. For does not everybody by compastion mean an affection, the object of which is another in dis tress ? Instead of this, but designing to have it mistaken for this, they speak of an affection or passion, the object of which is our selves, or danger to ourselves. Hobbes defines pity, imagination, or fiction of Juture calamit'y to ourselves, ¦proceeding from the sense (he means sight or knowledge) of another maris cala/nity. Thus fear and compassion would be the same idea, and a fearful and a compas sionate man the same charactei', which every one immediately sees are totally different. Further, to those who give any scope to their affections, there is no perception or inward feeling more universal than this : that one who has been merciful and compassionate throughout the course of his behaviour, should himself be treated with kindness, if he happens to fall into circumstances of distress. Is fear, then, or cowardice, so great a recommendation to the favour of the bulk of mankind 'i Or is it not plain, that mere fearlessness (and therefore not the contrary) is one of the most popular qualifi cations 1 This shews that mankind are not affected towards com passion as fear, but as somewhat totally different. Nothing would more expose such accounts as these of the affec tions which are favourable and friendly to our fellow-creatures, than to substitute the definitions, which this author, and others who fol low his steps, give of such affections, instead of the words by wliich they are commonly expressed. Hobbes, after having laid down, that pity or compassion is only fear for ourselves, goes on to ex plain the reason why we pity our friends in distress more than others. V.J UPON 0UMPAS.SI0N. 56 Of these two, delight in the prosperity of others, and compassion for their distresses, the last is felt/ Now substitute tho de/iiution instead of the word pilg in this place, aud the inquiry will bo, why wo fear our friends, &c. which words (since ho really does not moan why we ure afraid of them) make no question or senteiieo at all. So that common language, the words to compassionate, to pity, cannot bo accommodated to his account of compassion. The very joining of tho words to pity our friends, is a direct contradiction to his definition of pity : because those words, so joined, necessarily exjiross that our friends are the objects of tho passion : whereas his definition of it asserts, that ourselves (or dan ger to ourselves) are the only objects of it. Ho might indeed have avoided this absurdity, by plainly saying what he is going to account for ; namely, why the sight of the innocent, or of our friends in dis tress, raises greater fear for ourselves than the sight of other per sons in distress. But had he put the thing thus plainly, the fact itself would have been doubted; that the sight of our friends in dis tress raises in us greater fear for ourselves, thau the sight of others iii distress. And in the next place it would immediately have occurred to every one, that the fact now mentioned, which at least is doubtful, whether true or false, was not the same with this fact, which nobody ever doubted, that the sight of our friends in distress raises in us greater compassion than the sight of others in distress : every one, I say, would have seen that these are not the same, but two different inquiries ; and consequently, that fear and compassion are not the same. Suppose a person to be in real danger, and by some means or other to have forgot it ; any trifling accident, any sound might alarm him, recall the danger to his remembrance, and renew his fear : but it is almost too grossly ridiculous (though it is to shew an ab surdity) to speak of that sound or accident as an object of compas sion ; and yet, according to Mr. Hobbes, our greatest friend in dis tress is no more to us, no more the object of compassion, or of any affection in our heart : neither the one nor the other raises any emo tion in our mind, but only the thoughts of our liableness to calamity, and the fear of it ; and both equally do this. It is fit such sort of accounts of human nature should be shewn to be what they really are, because there is raised upon tliem a general scheme, which un dermines the whole foundation of common justice and honesty. See Hobbes of Human Nature, c. 9. § 10. There are often three distinct perceptions or inward feelings upon 56 UPON COMPASSION. [SERM. much more generally than the former. Though men do not universally rejoice with all whom they see rejoice, yet, accidental obstacles removed, they na turally compassionate aU, in some degree, whom they see in distress ; so far as they have any real per ception or sense of that distress : insomuch that words expressing this latter, pity, compassion, frequently occur ; whereas we have scarce any single one, by which the former is distinctly expressed. Congratu lation indeed answers condolence : but both these words are intended to signify certain forms of civility, rather than any inward sensation or feeling. This sight of persons in distress : real sorrow and concem for the misery of our fellow-creatures ; some degree of satisfaction from a con sciousness of our freedom from that misery; and as the mind passes on from one thing to another, it is not unnatural from such an occa sion to reflect upon our own liableness to the same or other calami ties. The two last frequently accompany the first, but it is the first only which is properly compassion, of which the distressed are the objects, and which directly carries us with calmness and thought to their assistance. Any one of these, from various and complicated reasons, may in particular cases prevail over the other two ; and there are, I suppose, instances, where the bare sight of distress, without our feeling any compassion for it, may be the occasion of either or both of the two latter perceptions. One might add_, that if there be really any such thing as the fiction or imagination of danger to ourselves from sight of the miseries of others, which Hobbes speais of, and which he has absurdly mistaken for the whole of compassion ; if there be any thing of this sort common to man kind, distinct from the reflection of reason, it would be a most re markable instance of what was furthest from his thoughts, namely, of a mutual sympathy between each particular of the species, a fel low-feeling common to mankind. It would not indeed be an ex ample of our substituting others for ourselves, but it would be an example of our substituting ourselves for others. And as it would not be an instance of benevolence, so neither would it be any instance of self-love : for this phantom of danger to ourselves, naturally rising to view upon sight of the distresses of others, would be no more an instance of love to ourselves, than the pain of hunger is. V.J UPON COMPASSION. 57 difference or inequality is so remarkable, that we plainly consider compassion as itself an original, distinct, particular affection in human nature ; whereas to rejoice in the good of others, is only a consequence of the general affection of love and good-wiU to them. The reason and account of winch matter is this : when a man has obtained any particular advantage or felicity, his end is gained; and he does not in that particular want the assistance of another : there was therefore no need of a distinct affection towards that feUcity of another already obtained; neither would such affection dfrectly carry him on to do good to that person : whereas men in distress want assistance ; and compassion leads us directly to assist them. The object of the former is the present feUcity of another ; the object of the latter is the present misery of an other. It is easy to see that the latter wants a particular affection for its relief, and that the former does not want one, because it does not want assist ance. And upon supposition of a distinct affection in both cases, the one must rest in the exercise of itself, having nothing further to gain ; the other does not rest in itself, but carries us on to assist the distressed. But, supposing these affections natural to the mind, particularly the last ; " Has not each man troubles enough of his own 1 must he indulge an affection which appropriates to himself those of others 1 which leads him to contract the least de sirable of all friendships, friendships with the un fortunate 1 Must we invert the knovm rule of prudence, and choose to associate ourselves with the distressed 1 or, allowing that we ought, so far as it is in our power to relieve them, yet is it not better to do this from reason and duty 1 Does not 58 UPON COMPASSION. [SERM. passion and affection of every kind perpetuaUy mis lead us 1 Nay, is not passion and affection itseff a weakness, and what a perfect being must be entirely free from?" Perhaps so: but it is mankind I am speaking of; imperfect creatures, and who naturaUy and, from the condition we are placed in, necessarily depend upon each other. With respect to such crea tures, it would be found of as bad consequence to eradicate all natural affections, as to be entfrely governed by them. This would almost sink us to the condition of brutes ; and that would leave us without a sufficient principle of action. Reason alone, whatever any one may wish, is not in reality a sufficient motive of virtue in such a creature as man; but this reason joined with those affections which Grod has impressed upon his heart : and when these are allowed scope to exercise themselves, but under strict government and direction of reason ; then it is we act suitably to our nature, and to the circum stances God has placed us in. Neither is affection itself at all a weakness ; nor does it argue defect, any otherwise than as our senses aad appetites do ; they belong to our condition .of nature, and are what we cannot be vrithout. God Almighty is, to be sure, unmoved by passion or appetite, unchanged by af fection : but then it is to be added, that he neither sees nor hears nor perceives things by any senses like ours ; but in a manner infinitely more perfect. Now, as it is an absurdity almost too gross to be men tioned, for a man to endeavour to get rid of his senses, because the Supreme Being discern thiags more perfectly without them ; it is as real, though not so obvious an absurdity, to endeavour to eradicate the passions he has given us, because he is without them. For, since our passions are as really a part of V.J UPON COMPASSION. 69 our constitution as our senses ; since the former as reaUy belong to our condition of nature as the latter ; to get rid of either is equally a violation of and breaking in upon that nature and constitution he has given us. Both our senses and our passions are a supply to the imperfection of our nature ; thus they shew that we are such sort of creatures, as to stand in need of those helps which higher orders of crea tures do not. But it is not the supply, but the deficiency ; as it is not a remedy, but a disease, which is the imperfection. However, our appetites, pas sions, senses, no way imply disease : nor indeed do they imply deficiency or imperfection of any sort ; but only this, that the constitution of nature, ac cording to which God has made us, is such as to require them. And it is so far from being true, that a wise man must entirely suppress compassion, and all feUow-feeling for others, as a weakness ; and trust to reason alone to teach and enforce upon him i the practice ofthe several charities we owe to our kind ; that, on the contrary, even the bare exercise of such affections would itself be for the good and happiness of the world ; and the unperfection of the higher principles of reason and religion in man, the Httle infiuence they have upon our practice, and the strength and prevalency of contrary ones, plainly require these affections to be a restraint upon these latter, and a supply to the deficiencies of the former. First, The very exercise itself of these affections in a just and reasonable manner and degree, would upon the whole increase the satisfactions, and lessen the miseries of life. It is the tendency and business of virtue and religion to procure, as much as may be, universal 60 UPON COMPASSION. [sEEM. good-wUl, trust, and friendship amongst mankind. If this could be brought to obtain ; and each man enjoyed the happiness of others, as every one does that of a friend; and looked upon the success and prosperity of his neighbour as every one does upon that of his children and family; it is too manifest to be insisted upon, how much the enjoyments of life would be increased. There would be so much happiness introduced into the world, without any deduction or inconvenience from it, in proportion as the precept of rejoicing with those who rejoice was universally obeyed. Our Saviour has owned this good affection as belonging to our nature, in the parable of the lost sheep ; and does not think it to the disadvantage of a perfect state, to represent its happiness as capable of increase, from refiection upon that of others. But since in such a creature as man, compassion or sorrow for the distress of others seems so far necessarUy connected with joy in their prosperity, as that whoever rejoices in one must unavoidably com passionate the other ; there cannot be that delight or satisfaction, which appears to be so considerable, without the inconveniences, whatever they are, of compassion. However, without considering this connection, there is no doubt but that more good than evd, more delight than sorrow, arises from compassion itself; there being so many things which balance the sorrow of it. There is first the reUef which the distressed feel from this affection in others to wards them. There is likewise the additional misery which they would feel from the reflection, that no one commiserated their case. It is indeed true, that any disposition, prevailing beyond a certain degree. v.] UPON COMPASSION. 61 becomes somewhat wrong ; and we have ways of speaking, which, though they do not directly express that excess, yet, always lead our thoughts to it, and give us the notion of it. Thus, when mention is made of delight in being pitied, this always conveys to our mind the notion of somewhat which is ready a weakness : the manner of speaking, I say, implies a certain weakness and feebleness of mind, which is and ought to be disapproved. But men of the greatest fortitude would in distress feel uneasiness, from knowing that no person in the world had any sort of compassion or real concern for them; and in some cases, especiaUy when the temper is enfeebled by sick ness, or any long and great distress, doubtless, would feel a kind of reUef even from the helpless good-wUl and ineffectual assistances of those about them. Over against the sorrow of compassion is Ukewise to be set a pecuUar calm kind of satisfaction, which accompanies it, unless in cases where the disfress of another is by some means so brought home to ourselves, as to be come in a manner our own ; or when from weakness of mind the affection rises too high, which ought to be corrected. This tranquUHty or calm satisfaction proceeds partly from consciousness of a right affection and temper of mind, and partly from a sense of our own freedom from the misery we compassionate. This last may possibly appear to some at first sight faulty; but it ready is not so. It is the same with that posi tive enjoyment, which sudden ease from pain for the present affords, arising from a real sense of misery, joined with a sense of our freedom from it ; which in aU cases must afford some degree of satisfaction. To these things must be added the observation, which respects both the affections we are considering ; that they who have got over all fellow-feeling for 62 UPON COMPASSION. [SERM. others, have withal contracted a certain callousness of heart, which renders them insensible to most other satisfactions, but those of the grossest kind. Secondly, Without the exercise of these affections men would certainly be much more wanting in the offices of charity they owe to each other, and likewise more cruel and injurious, than they are at present. The private interest of the individual would not be sufficiently provided for by reasonable and cool self- love alone ; therefore the appetites and passions are placed within as a guard and further security, with out which it would not be taken due care of It is manifest our life would be neglected, were it not for the calls of hunger and thirst and weariness ; notwith standing that without them reason would assure us, that the recruits of food and sleep are the necessary means of our preservation. It is therefore absurd to imagine, that, without affection, the same reason alone would be more effectual to engage us to perform the duties we owe to our fellow-creatures. One of this make would be as defective, as much wantiag, con sidered with respect to society, as one of the former make would be defective, or wanting, considered as an individual, or in his private capacity. Is it pos sible any can in eainest think, that a public spirit, i. e. a settled reasonable principle of benevo lence to mankind, is so prevalent and strong in the species, as that we may venture to throw off the under affections, which are its assistants, carry it forward and mark out particular courses for it ; family, friends, neighbourhood, the dis tressed, our country 1 The common joys and the common sorrows, which belong to these relations and circumstances, are as plainly useful to society, as the pain and pleasure belonging to hunger, thirst, V.J UPON COMPASSION. 63 and weariness, are of service to the individual. In defect of that higher principle of reason, com passion is often the only way by which the indigent can have access to us: and therefore, to eradicate this, though it is not indeed formally to deny them that assistance which is their due ; yet it is to cut them off from that which is too frequently thefr only way of obtaining it. And as for those who have shut up this door against the complaints of the miserable, and conquered this affection in themselves ; even these persons will be under great restraints from the same affection in others. Thus a man who has himself no sense of injustice, cruelty, oppression, will be kept from running the utmost lengths of wickedness, by fear of that detestation, and even resentment of inhumanity, in many particular in stances of it, which compassion for the object towards whom such inhumanity is exercised, excites in the bulk of mankind. And this is frequently the chief danger, and the chief restraint, which tyrants and the great oppressors of the world feel. In general, experience wiU shew, that as want of natural appetite to food supposes and proceeds from some boddy disease ; so the apathy the Stoics talk of, as much supposes, or is accompanied with, somewhat amiss in the moral character, in that which is the health of the mind. Those who formerly aimed at this upon the foot of phUosophy, appear to have had better success in eradicating the affections of tender ness and compassion, than they had with the passions of envy, pride, and resentment : these latter, at best, were but concealed, and that imperfectly too. How far this observation may be extended to such as endeavour to suppress the natural impulses of their affections, in order to form themselves for business 64 UPON COMPASSION. [sEEM. and the world, I shall not determine. But there does not appear any capacity or relation to be named, in which men ought to be entirely deaf to the calls of affection, unless the judicial one is to be excepted. And as to those who are commonly called the men of pleasure, it is manifest, that the reason they set up for hardness of heart, is to avoid beiag interrupted in thefr course, by the ruin and misery they are the authors of: neither are persons of this character always the most free from the impotencies of envy and resentment. What may men at last bring them selves to, by suppressing their passions and affections of one kind, and leaving those of the other in their fuU strength 1 But surely it might be expected that persons who make pleasure their study and their business, if they understood what they profess, would reflect, how many of the entertainments of Hfe, how many of those kind of amusements which seem pecu liarly to belong to men of leisure and education, they become insensible to by this acquired hardness of heart. I shall close these reflections with barely mention ing the behaviour of that divine Person, who was the example of aU perfection in human nature, as represented in the Gospels mourning, and even, in a literal sense, weeping over the distresses of his creatures. The observation already made, that, of the two affections mentioned in the text, the latter exerts itself much more than the former ; that, from the original constitution of human nature, we much more generally and sensibly compassionate the distressed, than rejoice with the prosperous, requires to be par ticularly considered. This observation, therefore, with the reflections which arise out of it, 'and which V.J UPON COMPASSION. 65 it leads our thoughts to, shall be the subject of another discourse. For the conclusion of this, let me just take notice of the danger of over-great refinements ; of going besides or beyond the plain, obvious, first appearances I of things, upon the su^bject of morals and religion. The least observation wdl shew, how little the generaUty of men are capable of specrdations. There fore morality and religion must be somewhat plain and easy to be understood : it must appeal to what we call plain common sense, as distinguished from superior capacity and improvement ; because it ap peals to mankind. Persons of superior capacity and improvement have often fallen into errors, which no one of mere common understanding could. Is it possible that one of this latter character could ever of himself have thought, that there was absolutely no such thing in mankind as affection to the good of others 1 suppose of parents to their children ; or that what he felt upon seeing a friend in distress was only fear for himself; or, upon supposition of the affections of kindness and compassion, that it was the business of wisdom and virtue to set him about extirpating them as fast as he could ? And yet each of these manifest contradictions to nature has been laid down by men of speculation, as a discovery in moral philosophy; which they, it seems, have found out through all the specious appearances to the contrary. This refiection may be extended further. The extravagancies of enthusiasm and superstition do not at all lie in the road of common sense ; and therefore, so far as they are original mistakes, must be owing to going beside or beyond it. Now, since inquiry and examination can relate only to things so obscure and uncertain as to stand BUTLEE, SERMONS. P 66 UPON COMPASSION. in need of it, and to persons who are capable of it ; the proper advice to be given to plain honest men, to secure them from the extremes both of superstition and irreligion, is that of the Son of Sirach : In every good work trust thy own soul; flor this is the keeping ofl ihe commandment^. b Ecclus. xxxii. 23. SEEMON VI. UPON COMPASSION. PREACHED THE FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT. RoM. xii. 15. Rejoice wiih them that do rejoice, aiid loeep wiih them ihat weep. ^T^HEBE is a much more exact correspondence -*- between the natural and moral world, than we are apt to take notice of. The inward frame of man does in a peculiar manner answer to the extemal condition and cfrcumstances of life, in which he is placed. This is a particular instance of that general observation of the Son of Sirach: All things are double one against another, and God hath made no thing imperfect *. The several passions and affections in the heart of man, compared with the cfrcumstances of life in which he is placed, afford, to such as wiU attend to them, as certain instances of final causes, as any whatever, which are more commonly alleged for such : since those affections lead him to a certain determinate course of action suitable to those cfr cumstances ; as (for instance) compassion, to relieve the distressed. And as all observations of final ^ Ecclus. xiii. 24. F 2 68 UPON COMPASSION. [SBEM. causes, drawn from the principles of action in the heart of man, compared with the condition he is placed in, serve aU the good uses which instances of final causes in the material world about us do ; and both these are equally proofs of wisdom and design in the Author of nature : so the former serve to further good purposes ; they shew us what course of life we are made for, what is our duty, and in a pecidiar manner enforce upon us the practice of it. Suppose we are capable of happiness and of misery in degrees equally intense and extreme, yet, we are capable of the latter for a much longer time, beyond aU comparison. We see men in the tortures of pain for hours, days, and, excepting the short suspensions of sleep, for months together, without intermission ; to which no enjoyments of life do, in degree and continuance, bear any sort of proportion. And such is our make and that of the world about us, that any thing may become the instrument of pain and sorrow to us. Thus almost any one man is capa ble of doing mischief to any other, though he may not be capable of doing him good : and if he be capable of doing him some good, he is capable of doing him more evil. And it is, in numberless cases, much more in our power to lessen the miseries of others, than to promote thefr positive happiness, any otherwise than as the former often includes the latter; ease from misery occasioning for some time the greatest positive enjoyment. This constitution of nature, namely, that it is so much more in our power to occasion and likewise to lessen misery, than to promote positive happiness, plainly required a particular affection, to hinder us from abusing, and to incline us to make a right use of the former powers, i. e. the powers both to occasion and to lessen VI.J UPON COMPASSION. 69 misery; over and above what was necessary to in duce us to make a right use of the latter power, that of promoting positive happiness. The power we have over the misery of our fellow-creatures, to occasion or lessen it, being a more important trust than the power we have of promoting thefr positive happiness; the former requires and has a further, an additional security and guard against its being violated, beyond and over and above what the latter has. The social nature of man, and general good- wUl to his species, equally prevent him from doing evil, incUne him to relieve the distressed, and to pro mote the positive happiness of his fellow-creatures : but compassion only restrains from the first, and carries him to the second ; it hath nothing to do with the thfrd. The final causes then of compassion are to prevent and to reUeve misery. As to the former : this affection may plainly be a restraint upon resentment, envy, unreasonable self- love ; that is, upon aU the principles from which men do evil to one another. Let us instance only in resentment. It seldom happens, in regulated societies, that men have an enemy so entirely in their power, as to be able to satiate their resent ment with safety. But if we were to put this case, it is plainly supposable, that a person might bring his enemy into such a condition, as from being the object of anger and rage, to become an object of com passion, even to himself, thou.gh the most malicious man in the world : and in this case compassion would stop him, if he could stop with safety, from pur suing his revenge any further. But since nature has placed within us more powerful restraints to prevent mischief, and since the final cause of com- 70 UPON COMPASSION. [SEEM. passion is much more to reUeve misery, let us go on to the consideration of it in this view. As this world was not intended to be a state of any great satisfaction or high enjoyment; so neither was it intended to be a mere scene of unhappiness and sorrow. Mitigations and reliefs are provided by the mercifuh Author of nature, for most of the afflic tions in human Hfe. There is kind provision made even against our frailties; as we are so constituted, that time abundantly abates our sorrows, and begets in us that resignment of temper, which ought to have been produced by a better cause; a due sense of the authority of God, and our state of dependence. This holds in respect too far the greatest part of the evUs of life; I suppose, in some degree, as to paia and sickness. Now this part of the constitution or make of man, considered as some reUef to misery, and not as provision for positive happiness, is, if I may so speak, an instance of nature's compassion for us ; and every natural remedy or relief to misery may be considered in the same view. But since in many cases it is very much in our power to aUeviate the miseries of each other; and benevolence, though natural in man to man, yet is in a very low degree kept down by interest and competitions ; and men, for the most part, are so engaged in the business and pleasures of the world, as to overlook and turn away from objects of misery; which are plainly considered as interruptions to them in their way, as intruders upon thefr business, their gayety and mfrth : compassion is an advocate within us in thefr behalf, to gain the unhappy admittance and access, to make their case attended to. If it sometimes serves a contrary purpose, and makes men industriously turn away from the miserable, VI.J UPON COMPASSION. 71 these are only instances of abuse and perversion : for the end, for which the affection was given us, most certainly is not to make us avoid, but to make us attend to, the objects of it. And if men would only resolve to allow thus much to it ; let it bring before their view, the view of thefr mind, the miseries of their feUow-creatures ; let it gain for them that thefr case be considered; I am persuaded it would not fail of gaining more, and that very few real objects of charity would pass unrelieved. Pain and sorrow and misery have a right to our assistance: compassion puts us in mind of the debt, and that we owe it to ourselves as weU as to the distressed. For, to endeavour to get rid of the sorrow of compassion by turning from the wretched, when yet it is in our power to reUeve them, is as unnatural, as to en deavour to get rid of the pain of hunger by keeping from the sight of food. That we can -do one with greater success than we can the other, is no proof that one is less a violation of nature than the other. Compassion is a caU, a demand of nature, to relieve i the unhappy; as hunger is a natural call for food. This affection plainly gives the objects of it an additional claim to relief and mercy, over and above what our fellow-creatures in common have to our good-wUl. Liberality and bounty are exceedingly commendable ; and a particular distinction ia such a world as this, where men set themselves to contract their heart, and close it to aU interests but their own. It is by no means to be opposed to mercy, but always accompanies it : the distinction between them is only, that the former leads our thoughts to a more promiscuous and undistinguished distribution of favours ; to those who are not, as weU as those who are necessitous ; whereas the object of compassion 72 UPON COMPASSION. [SEEJI, is misery. But in the comparison, and where there is not a possibiUty of both, mercy is to have the preference : the affection of compassion manifestly leads us to this preference. Thus, to relieve the indigent and distressed, to single out the unhappy, from whom can be expected no returns either of present entertainment or future service, for the objects of our favours ; to esteem a man's being friendless as a recommendation; dejection, and in capacity of struggling through the world, as a motive for assisting him ; in a word, to consider these cfrcum stances of disadvantage, which are usually thought a sufficient reason for neglect and overlooking a per son, as a motive for helping him forward : this is the course of benevolence which compassion marks out and directs us to : this is that humanity, which is so peculiarly becoming our nature and cfrcum stances in this world. To these considerations, drawn from the nature of man, must be added the reason of the things itself we are recommending, which accords to and shews the same. For since it is so much more in our power to lessen the misery of our feUow-creatures, than to promote their positive happiness ; in cases where there is an inconsistency, we shall be likely to do much more good by setting ourselves to mitigate the former, than by endeavouring to promote the latter. Let the competition be between the poor and the rich. It is easy, you will say, to see which will have the preference. True : but the question is, which ought to have the preference 1 What pro portion is there between the happiness produced by doing a favour to the indigent, and that produced by doing the same favour to one in easy circumstances t It is manifest, that the addition of a very large VI.J UPON COMPASSION. 73 estate to one who before had an atHuence, will in many instances yield him less new enjoyment or satisfaction, than an ordinary charity would yield to a necessitous person. So that it is not only true, that our nature, i. e. the voice of God within us, carries us to the exercise of charity and benevolence in the way of compassion or mercy, preferably to any other way; but we also manifestly discern much more good done by the former ; or, if you will allow me the expressions, more misery annihUated, and happiness created. If charity and benevolence, and endeavouring to do good to our feUow-creatures, be any thing, this observation deserves to be most seriously considered by aU who have to bestow. And it holds with great exactness, when applied to the several degrees of greater and less indigency throughout the various ranks in human life : the happiness or good produced not being in propor tion to what is bestowed, but in proportion to this joined vrith the need there was of it. It may perhaps be expected, that upon this subject notice should be taken of occasions, circumstances, and characters, which seem at once to call forth affections of different sorts. Thus vice may be thought the object both of pity and indignation : folly, of pity and of laughter. How far this is strictly true, I shall not inquire ; but only observe upon the appearance, how much more humane it is to yield and give scope to affections, which are most directly in favour of, and friendly towards, our fellow- creatures ; and that there is plainly much less danger of being led wrong by these, than by the other. But, notwithstanding aU that has been said in recommendation of compassion, that it is most amiable, most becoming human nature, and most 74 UPON COMPASSION. [SEEM. useful to the world ; yet it must be owned, that every affection, as distinct from a principle of reason, may rise too high, and be beyond its just proportion. And by means of this one carried too far, a man throughout his life is subject to much more uneasi ness than belongs to his share : and in particular instances, it may be in such a degree, as to in capacitate him from assisting the very person who is the object of it. But as there are some who upon principle set up for suppressing this affection itself as weakness, there is also I know not what of fashion on this side ; and, by some means or other, the whole world almost is run into the extremes of insensibility towards the distresses of their fellow-creatures : so that general rules and exhortations must always he on the other side. And now to go on to the uses we should make of the foregoing reflections, the further ones they lead to, and the general temper they have a tendency to beget in us. There being that distinct affection implanted in the nature of man, tending to lessen the miseries of life, that particular provision made for abating its sorrows, more than for increasing its positive happiness, as before explained ; this may suggest to us what should be our general aim re specting ourselves, in our passage througfrthis world : namely, to endeavour chiefly to escape misery, keep free from uneasiness, pain, and sorrow, or to get relief and mitigation of them ; to propose to our selves peace and tranquUUty of mind, rather than pursue after high enjoyments. This is what the constitution of nature before explained marks out as the course we should follow, and the end we should aim at. To make pleasure and mirth and joUity our business, and be constantly hurrying about after some VI.J UPON COJIPASSION. 75 gay amusement, some new gratification of sense or appetite, to those who will consider the nature of man and our condition in this world, will appear the most romantic scheme of life that ever entered into thought. And yet how many are there who go on in this course, without learning better from the daily, the hourly disappointments, listlessness, and satiety, which accompany this fashionable method of wasting away thefr days ! The subject we have been insisting upon would lead us into the same kind of reflections by a different connection. The miseries of life brought home to ourselves by compassion, viewed through this affec tion considered as the sense by which they are per ceived, would beget in us that moderation, humUity, and sobemess of mind, which has been now recom mended; and which pecuUarly belongs to a season of recoUection, the only purpose of which is to briag us to a just sense of things, to recover us out of that forgetfulness of ourselves, and our true state, which it is manifest far the greatest part of men pass thefr whole life in. Upon this account Solomon says, that it is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting ; i. e. it is more to a man's advantage to tum his eyes towards objects of dis tress, to recaU sometimes to his remembrance the occasions of sorrow, than to pass all his days in thoughtless mfrth and gayety. And he represents the wise as choosing to frequent the former of these places ; to be sure not for his own sake, but because hy the sadness ofl the countenance the heart is made better. Every one observes how temperate and reasonable men are when humbled and brought low by afflictions, in comparison of what they are in high prosperity. By this voluntary resort to the house of 76 UPON COMPASSION. [SERM. mourning, which is here recommended, we might leam all those useful instructions which calamities teach, vrithout undergoing them ourselves ; and grow wiser and better at a more easy rate than men com monly do. The objects themselves, which in that place of sorrow lie before our view, naturally give us a seriousness and attention, check that wantonness which is the growth of prosperity and ease, and lead us to reflect upon the deficiencies of human life itself; that every man, at his best estate, is altogether vanity. This would correct the florid and gaudy prospects and expectations which we are too apt to iadulge, teach us to lower our notions of happiness and enjoy ment, bring them down to the reality of things, to what is attainable, to what the frailty of our con dition wdl admit of, which, for any continuance, is only tranquillity, ease, and moderate satisfactions. Thus we might at once become proof against the temptations with which the whole world almost is carried away ; since it is plain, that not only what is caUed a life of pleasure, but also viciotis pursuits in general, aim at somewhat besides and beyond these moderate satisfactions. And as to that obstinacy and wilfulness, which renders men so insensible to the motives of religion ; this right sense of ourselves and of the world about us would bend the stubborn mind, soften the heart, and make it more apt to receive impression: and this is the proper temper in which to call our ways to remembrance, to review and set home upon our selves the miscarriages of our past life. In such a compHant state of mind, reason and conscience vrill have a fafr hearing ; which is the preparation for, or rather the beginning of, that repentance, the out ward show of which we aU put on at this season. VI.J UPON COMPASSION. 77 Lastly, The various miseries of life which lie before us wherever we tum our eyes, the frailty of this mortal state we are passing through, may put us in mind that the present world is not oiir home ; that we are merely strangers and travellers in it, as all our fathers were. It is therefore to be considered as a foreign country ; in which our poverty and wants, and the insufficient supplies of them, were designed to tm'n our riews to that higher and better state we are hefrs to : a state where will be no follies to be overlooked, no miseries to be pitied, no wants to he relieved ; where the affection we have been now treating of wdl happily be lost, as there wiU be no objects to exercise it upon : for God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall he no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying ; neither shall there be any more pain ; for the former things are passed away. SERMON yn. UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. PREACHED THE SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTEE. Numbers xxiii. 10. Lei me die the death of ihe righteous, and let my last end le like his. nPHESE words, taken alone, and without respect -*- to him who spoke them, lead our thoughts im mediately to the different ends of good and bad men. For though the comparison is not expressed, yet it is manifestly implied ; as is also the preference of one of these characters to the other in that last circumstance, death. And, since dying the death of the righteous or of the vricked necessarily implies men's being righteous or vricked, i. e. haring lived righteously or vrickedly; a comparison of them in thefr Uves also might come into consideration, from such a single view of the words themselves. But my present design is to consider them with a par ticular reference or respect to him who spoke them ; which reference, if you please to attend, you wdl see. And if what shall be offered to your consideration at this time be thought a discourse upon the whole history of this man, rather than upon the particular UPON THE CHAR.VCTEl! OF BALA.\jr. 79 words 1 have read, this is of no consequence : it is sufficient, if it afford reflection of use aud service to ourselves. But, in order to avoid cavils respecting this re markable relation in scripture, either that part of it which you have heard in the first lesson for the day, or any other; let me just observe, that as this is not a place for answering them, so they no way affect the foUowing discourse; since the character there given is plainly a real one in Hfe, and such as there are paraUels to. The occasion of Balaam's coming out of his own country into the land of Moab, where he pronounced this solemn prayer or wish, he himself relates in the first parable or prophetic speech, of which it is the conclusion. In which is a custom referred to, proper to be taken notice of : that of devoting enemies to destruction, before the entrance upon a war vsdth them. This custom appears to have prevaUed over a great part of the world; for we find it amongst the most distant nations. The Romans had public officers, to whom it belonged as a stated part of their office. But there was somewhat more particular in the case now before us ; Baalam being looked upon as an extraordinary person, whose blessing or curse was thought to be always effectual. In order to engage the reader's attention to this passage, the sacred historian has enumerated the preparatory circumstances, which are these. Balaam requfres the king of Moab to build him seven altars, and to prepare him the same number of oxen and of rams. The sacrifice being over, he retfres alone to a solitude sacred to these occasions, there to wait the divine inspiration or answer, for which the foregoing rites were the preparation. And God met Balaam, 80 UPON THE CHARACTER [sEEM. and put a word in his mouth^ ; upon receiving which, he returns back to the altars, where was the king, who had aU this while attended the sacrifice, as appointed ; he and all the princes of Moab standing, big with expectation of the Prophet's reply. And he took up his parable, and said, Balak the king of Moab hath brought me from Aram, out of the mountains of the east, saying. Come, curse me Jacob, and come, defy Israel. How shall I curse, whom God hath ¦not cursed f Or how shall I defy, whom the Lord hath not defied f For from ihe top of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him : lo, the people shall dwell alone, and shall not he reckoned among the nations. Who can count the dust of Jacob, and the number of the fourth part ofl Israel ? Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last e'nd be like his ^. It is necessary, as you will see in the progress of this discourse, particularly to observe what he understood by righteous. And he himself is intro duced in the book of Micah <= explaining it; if hy righteous is meant good, as to be sure it is. 0 my people, remember now what Balak king of Moab con sulted, and what Balaam the son ofl Beor answered him from Shittim unto Gilgal. From the mention of Shittim it is manifest, that it is this very story which is here referred to, though another part of it, the account of which is not now extant ; as there are many quotations in scripture out of books which are not come down to us. Remember what Balaam answered, that ye may know the righteousness of the Lord ; i. e. the righteousness which God will accept. Balak demands. Wherewith shall I come before ihe Lord, and how myself before the high God f Shall I ^ Ver. 4, 5. b Ver. 6. c Micah vi. VII. J OE BALAAM. 81 come before him with burnt-offerings, with calves of a year old f Will the Lord be pleased -with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil f Shall I give my flrst-born for my transgression, the fruit oj" my body for the sin of my sold? Balaam answers him. He hath shewed thee, 0 man, ivhat is good: and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy Godf Here is a good man expressly characterized, as distinct from a dishonest and a superstitious man. No words can more strongly exclude dishonesty and falseness of heart, than doing justice, and loving mercy: and both these, as weU as walking humbly with God, are put in opposition to those ceremonial methods of recommendation, which Balak hoped might have served the tum. From hence appears what he meant by the righteous, whose death he desires to die. Whether it was his own character shall now be inquired : and in order to determine it, we must take a view of his whole behaviour upon this occasion. When the elders of Moab came to him, though he appears to have been much allured with the rewards offered, yet he had such regard to the authority of God, as to keep the messengers in suspense untd he had consulted his will. And God said to him. Thou shalt not go -with them, thou shalt not curse the people, for they are blessed ''. Upon this he dismisses the am bassadors, with an absolute refusal of accompanying them back to thefr king. Thus far his regards to his duty prevaUed, neither does there any thing appear as yet amiss in his conduct. His answer being reported to the king of Moab, a more honour able embassy is immediately despatched, and greater rewards proposed. Then the iniquity of his heart '' Chap. xxii. 12. BUTLER, SERMONS. G 82 UPON THE CHARACTER [.SERM. began to disclose itself A thorough honest man would without hesitation have repeated his former answer, that he could not be guilty of so infamous a prostitution of the sacred character vrith which he was invested, as in the name of a prophet to curse those whom he knew to be blessed. But instead of this, which was the only honest part in these circum stances that lay before him, he desires the princes of Moab to tarry that night with him also ; and for the sake of the reward deliberates, whether by some means or other he might not be able to obtain leave to curse Israel; to do that, which had been before revealed to him to be contrary to the wdl of God, which yet he resolves not to do without that per mission. Upon which, as when this naltion after wards rejected God from reigning over them, he gave them a king in his anger ; in the same way, as appears from other parts of the narration, he gives Balaam the permission he desired : for this is the most natural sense of the words. Arriving in the territories of Moab, and being received with par ticular distinction by the king, and he repeating in person the promise of the rewards he had before made to him by his ambassadors, he seeks, the text says, by sacrifices and enchantments {what these were is not to our purpose,) to obtain leave of God to curse the people ; keeping still his resolution, not to do it without that permission : which not being able to obtain, he had such regard to the command of God, as to keep this resolution to the last. The suppo sition of his benig under a supernatural restraint is a mere fiction of PhUo : he is plainly represented to be under no other force or restraint, than the fear of God. However, he goes on persevering in that endeavour, after he had declared, that God had not VII.] OP BALAAM. 83 beheld imquity in Jacob, neither had he seen perverse- ness in Israel^ ; i.e. they were a people of virtue and piety, so far as not to have drawn down, by their iniquity, that curse which he was soliciting leave to pronounce upon them. So that the state of Balaam's mind was this : he wanted to do what he knew to be very wicked, and contrary to the express com mand of God ; he had inward checks and restraints, which he could not entfrely get over ; he therefore casts about for ways to reconcile this wickedness with his duty. How great a paradox soever this may appear, as it is indeed a contradiction in terms, it is the very account which the scripture gives us of him. But there is a more surprising piece of iniquity yet behind. Not daring in his religious character, as a prophet, to assist the king of Moab, he con siders whether there might not be found some other means of assisting him against that very people, whom he himself by the fear of God was restrained from cursuig in words. One would not think it possible, that the weakness, even of religious self-deceit in its utmost excess, could have so poor a distinction, so fond an evasion, to serve itself o£ But so it was : and he could think of no other method, than to betray the children of Israel to provoke his wrath, who was thefr only strength and defence. The temptation which he pitched upon, was that concern ing which Solomon afterwards observed, that it had cast down many wounded ; yea, many strong men had heen slain by it : and of which he himself was a sad example, when his wives turned away his heart aflter other gods. This succeeded : the people sin against God ; and thus the Prophet's counsel brought on that destruction, which he could by no means be e Ver. 21. G 2 84 UPON THE CHARACTER [SEBM. prevailed upon to assist with the religious ceremony of execration, which the king of Moab thought would itself have affected it. Their crime and punishment* are related in Deuteronomy * and Num bers s. And from the relation repeated in Numbers^ it appears, that Balaam was the contriver of the whole matter. It is also ascribed to him in the EevelationS where he is said to have taught Balak to cast a stumbling-block hefore the children of Israel. This was the man, this Balaam, I say, was the man who desired to die the death of the righteous, and that his last end ¦might he like his : and this was the state of his mind when he pronounced these words. So that the object we have now before us is the most astonishing in the world : a very wicked man, under a deep sense of God and religion, persisting still in his wickedness, and preferring the wages of unrighteousness, even when he had before him a Hvely view of death, and that approaching period of his days, which should deprive him of aU those advantages for which he was prostituting himself; and Hkewise a prospect, whether certain or uncertain, of a future state of retribution : all this joined vdth an explicit ardent wish, that, when he was to leave this world, he might be in the condition of a righteous man. Good God, what inconsistency, what perplexity is here ! With what different riews of things, with what contradictory principles of action, must such a mind be tom and distracted! It was not unthinking carelessness, by which he run on headlong in vice and folly, without ever making a stand to ask himself what he was doing : no ; he acted upon the cool motives of interest and ad- f Chap. iv. e Chap. xxv. 1' Chap. xxxi. i Chap. ii. VII.J OP BALAAM. 85 vantage. Neither was he totaUy hard and callous to impressions of religion, what we call abandoned ; for he absolutely denied to curse Israel. When reason assumes her place, when conrinced of his duty, when he owns and feels, and is actually under the influence of the divine authority; whilst he is carrying on his riews to the grave, the end of all temporal greatness ; under this sense of things, with the better character and more desfrable state present — full before him — in his thoughts, in his wishes, voluntarUy to choose the worse — what fatality is here ! Or how otherwise can such a character be explained "? And yet, strange as it may appear, it is not altogether an uncommon one : nay, with some smaU alterations, and put a little lower, it is ap plicable to a very considerable part of the world. For if the reasonable choice be seen and acknowledged, and yet men make the unreasonable one, is not this the same contradiction ; that very inconsistency, which appeared so unaccountable 1 To give some Httle opening to such characters and behariour, it is to be observed in general, that there is no account to be given in the way of reason, of men's so strong attachments to the present world : our hopes and fears and pursuits are in de grees beyond aU proportion to the known value of the thiags they respect. This may be said without taking into consideration reUgion and a future state ; and when these are considered, the disproportion is iafinitely heightened. Now when men go against their reason, and contradict a more important in terest at a distance, for one nearer, though of less consideration ; if this be the whole of the case, aU that can be said is, that strong passions, some kind of brute force vrithin, prevails over the principle of 86 UPON THE CHARACTER [SERM. rationaUty. However, if this be with a clear, full, and distinct view of the truth of things, then it is doing the utmost riolence to themselves, acting in the most palpable contradiction to their very nature. But if there be any such thing in mankind as putting half-deceits upon themselves ; which there plainly is, either by avoiding reflection, or (if they do reflect) by reHgious equivocation, subterfuges, and paUiating matters to themselves ; by these means conscience may be laid asleep, and they may go on in a course of wickedness with less disturbance. All the various turns, doubles, and intricacies in a dishonest heart, cannot be unfolded or laid open ; but that there is somewhat of that kind is manifest, be it to be called self-deceit, or by any other name. Balaam had be fore his eyes the authority of God, absolutely for bidding him what he, for the sake of a reward, had the strongest inclination to : he was likewise in a state of mind sober enough to consider death and his last end : by these considerations he was re strained, first from going to the king of Moab ; and after he did go, from cursing Israel. But notwith standing this, there was great wickedness in his heart. He could not forego the rewards of unright eousness : he . therefore first seeks for indulgences ; and when these could not be obtained, he sins against the whole meaniag, end, and design of the prohi bition, which no consideration m the world could prevail with him to go against the letter of. And surely that impious counsel he gave to Balak against the children of Israel, was, considered in itself, a greater piece of vrickedness, than if he had cursed them in words. If it be inquired what his situation, his hopes and fears were, in respect to this his wish ; the answer VII.J OF BALAAM. 87 must be, that consciousness of the wickedness of his I heart must necessarily have destroyed all settled hopes of dying the death of the righteous : he could have no calm satisfaction in this view of his last end : yet, on the other hand, it is possible that those partial regards to his duty, now mentioned, might keep him from perfect despair. Upon the whole, it is manifest, that Balaam had the most ju.st and true notions of God and religion ; as appears, partly from the original story itself, and more plainly from the passage in Micah ; where he explains religion to consist in real virtue and real piety, expressly distinguished from superstition, and in terms which most strongly exclude dishonesty and falseness of heart. Yet you see his behaviour : he seeks indulgences for plain wickedness ; which not being able to obtain, he glosses over that same wickedness, dresses it up in a new form, in order to make it pass off more easily with himself That , is, he deUberately contrives to deceive and impose upon himseff, in a matter which he knew to be of the utmost importance. To bring these observations home to ourselves : it is too evident, that many persons allow themselves in very unjustifiable courses, who yet make great pretences to reUgion ; not to deceive the world, none can be so weak as to think this will pass in our age ; but from principles, hopes, and fears, respecting God and a future state ; and go on thus with a sort of tranquillity and quiet of mind. This cannot be upon a thorough consideration, and full resolution, that the pleasures and advantages they propose are to be pursued at aU hazards, against reason, against the law of God, and though everlasting destruction is to be the consequence. This would be doing too 88 UPON THE CHARACTER [sERM. great riolence upon themselves. No, they are for making a composition with the Almighty. These of his commands they vrill obey; but as to others — why they wiU make all the atonements in their power ; the ambitious, the covetous, the dissolute man, each in a way which shaU not contradict his respective pursuit. Indulgences before, which was Balaam's first attempt, though he was not so suc cessful in it as to deceive himself, or atonements afterwards, are all the same. And here perhaps come in faint hopes that they may, and half-resolves that they wiU, one time or other, make a change. Besides these, there are also persons, who, from a more just way of considering things, see the in finite absurdity of this, of substituting sacrifice instead of obedience ; there are persons far enough from superstition, and not without some real sense of God and religion upon their minds ; who yet are guilty of most unjustifiable practices, and go on with great coolness and command over themselves. The same dishonesty and unsoundness of heart dis covers itself in these another way. In all common ordinary cases we see intuitively at first riew what is our duty, what is the honest part. This is the ground of the observation, that the first thought is often the best. In these cases doubt and deliberation is itself dishonesty; as it was in Balaam upon the second message. That which is caUed considering what is our duty in a particular case, is very often nothing but endeavouring to explain it away. Thus those courses, which, if men would fafrly attend to the dictates of their own consciences, they would see to be corruption, excess, oppression, uncharitable ness ; these are refined upon — things were so and so circumstantiated — great difficulties are raised about VII.J OF BAL.'^AM. 89 fixing bounds and degrees : and thus every moral obligation whatever may be evaded. Here is scope, I say, for an unfafr mind to explain away every moral obUgation to itself Whether men reflect again upon this internal management and artffice, and how expUcit they are with themselves, is another question. There are many operations of the mind, many things pass within, which we never reflect upon again ; which a by-stander, from having fre quent opportunities of observing us and our conduct, may make shrewd guesses at. That great numbers are in this way of deceiving themselves is certain. There is scarce a man in the world, who has entfrely got over all regards, hopes, and fears, concerning God and a future state ; and these apprehensions in the generality, bad as we are, prevaU in considerable degrees : yet men wdl and can be wicked, with calmness and thought ; we see they are. There must therefore be some method of making it sit a little easy upon their minds ; which, in the superstitious, is those indul gences and atonements before mentioned, and this self-deceit of another kind in persons of another character. And both these proceed from a certain unfairness of mind, a peculiar inward dishonesty ; the dfrect contrary to that simplicity which our Saviour recommends, under the notion of becoming little children, as a necessary qualification for our entering into the kingdom of heaven. But to conclude : How much soever men differ in the course of life they prefer, and in their ways of paUiating and excusing their vices to themselves; yet all agree in the one thing, desiring to die the death ofl the righteous. This is surely remarkable. The observation may be extended further, and put thus : 90 UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. Even without determining what that is which we call guilt or innocence, there is no man but would choose, after having had the pleasure or advantage of a vicious action, to be free of the guUt of it, to be in the state of an innocent man. This shews at least the disturbance and implicit dissatisfaction in rice. If we inquire into the grounds of it, we shall find it proceeds partly from an immediate sense of having done eril, and partly from an apprehension, that this inward sense shall one time or another be seconded by an higher judgment, upon which our whole being depends. Now to suspend and drown this sense, and these apprehensions, be it by the hurry of busi ness or of pleasure, or by superstition, or moral equivocations, this is in a manner one and the same, and makes no alteration at aU in the nature of our case. Things and actions are what they are, and the consequences of them will be what they will be : why then should we desire to be deceived 1 As we are reasonable creatures, and have any regard to ourselves, we ought to lay these things plainly and honestly before our mind, and upon this, act as you please, as you think most fit ; make that choice, and prefer that course of life, which you can justify to yourselves, and which sits most easy upon your ovm mind. It wiU immediately appear, that vice cannot be the happiness, but must upon the whole be the misery, of such a creature as man ; a moral, an accountable agent. Superstitious observances, self- deceit though of a more refined sort, will not in reality at all mend matters with us. And the result of the whole can be nothing else, but that with simplicity and fairness we keep innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right ; for this alone shall bring a man peace at the last. SERMON yni. UPON RESENTMENT. Matt. v. 43, 44.. Te have heard that it hath heen said. Thou shalt love thy neigh- hour, and hate thine enemy. Bui 1 say unto you. Love your enemies, bless ihem that curse you, do good to ihem thai hate you, and pray for ihem which despiiefully use you, and perse cute you. Q INCE perfect goodness in the Deity is the prin ciple from whence the universe was brought into being, and by which it is preserved ; and since general benevolence is the great law of the whole moral creation : it is a question which immediately occurs. Why had man implanted in him a principle, which appears the direct contrary to benevolence ? Now the foot upon which inquiries of this kind should be treated is this : to take human nature as it is, and the cfrcumstances in which it is placed as they are ; and then consider the correspondence between that nature and those circumstances, or what course of action and behariour, respecting those cfrcumstances, any particular affection or passion leads us to. This I mention to distinguish the matter now before us from disquisitions of quite another kind ; namely. Why we are not made more perfect creatures, or placed in better circum- 92 UPON RESENTMENT. [SERM. stances f these being questions which we have not, that I know of, any thing at aU to do with. God Almighty undoubtedly foresaw the disorders, both natural and moral, which woidd happen in this state of things. If upon this we set ourselves to search and examine why he did not prevent them ; we shall, I am afraid, be in danger of running into somewhat worse than impertinent curiosity. But upon this to examine how far the nature which he hath given us hath a respect to those circum stances, such as they are ; how far it leads us to act a proper part in them ; plainly belongs to us : and such inquiries are in many ways of excellent use. Thus the thing to be considered is, not, Wliy ive were not made of such a nature, and placed in such circumstances, as to have no need of so harsh and turbulent a passion as resentment : but, taking our nature and condition as being what they are. Why or for what end such a passion was given us : and this chiefiy in order to shew what are the abuses of it. The persons who laid down for a rule. Thou sJialt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy, made short work with this matter. They did not, it seems, perceive any thing to be disapproved in hatred, more than in good-will : and, according to their system of morals, our enemy was the proper natural object of one of these passions, as our neighbour was of the other of them. This was aU they had to say, and aU they thought needful to be said, upon the subject. But this cannot be satisfactory ; because hatred, maUce, and revenge, are directiy contrary to the religion we profess, and to the nature and reason of the thing frself Therefore, since no passion God hath endued us with can be in itself evU ; and yet since VIII.J UPON RESENTMENT. 93 men frequently indulge a passion in such ways and degrees that at length it becomes quite another thing from Avhat it was originally in our nature ; and those rices of maUce and revenge in particular take thefr occasion from the natural passion of re sentment : it wiU be needful to trace this up to its original, that we may see, what it is in itself, as placed in our nature by its Author; from which it wiU plainly appear, for what ends it was placed there. And when we know what the passion is in itseff, and the ends of it, we shaU easily see, vjhat are the abuses of it, in which malice and re venge consist ; and which are so strongly forbidden in the text, by the dfrect contrary being commanded. Resentment is of two kinds : hasty and sudden, or settled and deliberate. The former is called anger, and often passion; which, though a general word, is frequently appropriated and confined to the par ticular feeling, sudden anger, as distinct from de liberate resentment, malice, ahd revenge. In all these words is usually implied somewhat vicious ; somewhat unreasonable as to the occasion of the passion, or immoderate as to the degree or dura tion of it. But that the natural passion itself is indifferent, St. Paul has asserted in that precept. Be ye angry, and sin not^ : which though it is by no means to be understood as an encouragement to indulge ourselves in anger, the sense being certainly this. Though ye be angry, sin not; yet here is eri dently a distinction made between anger and sin ; between the natural passion, and sinful anger. Sudden anger, upon certain occasions, is mere in stinct : as merely so, as the disposition to close our eyes upon the apprehension of somewhat falling into a Ephes. iv. 26. 94 UPON RESENTMENT. [SERM. them ; and no more necessarily implies any degree of reason. I say, necessarily: for to be sure hasty, as weU as deliberate, anger may be occasioned by injury or contempt; m which cases reason suggests to our thoughts that injury and contempt, which is the occasion of the passion : but I am speaking of the former only so far as it is to be distinguished from the latter. The only way in which our reason and understanding can raise anger, is by representing to our mind injustice or injury of some kind or other. Now momentary anger is frequently raised, not only without any real, but without any apparent reason ; that is, without any appearance of injury, as distinct from hurt or pain. It cannot, I suppose, be thought, that this passion, in infants ; in the lower species of animals ; and, which is often seen, in men towards them ; it cannot, I say, be imagined, that these instances of this passion are the effect of reason : no, they are occasioned by mere sensation and feeling. It is opposition, sudden hurt, violence, which natur ally excites the passion; and the real demerit or fault of him who offers that violence, or is the cause of that opposition or hurt, does not, in many cases, so much as come into thought. The reason and end, for which man was made thus liable to this passion, is, that he might be better qualified to prevent, and likewise (or perhaps chiefly) to resist and defeat, sudden force, violence, and oppo sition, considered merely as such, and without regard to the fault or demerit of him who is the author of them. Yet, since violence may be considered in this other and further view, as implying fault ; and since injury, as distinct from harm, may raise sudden anger ; sudden anger may likewise accidentaUy serve to prevent, or remedy, such fault and injury. But, VIII. J UPON RESENTMENT. 95 considered as distinct from settled anger, it stands in our nature for self-defence, and not for the adminis tration of justice. There are plainly cases, and in the uncultivated parts of the world, and, where regular governments are not formed, they frequently happen, in which there is no time for consideration, and yet to be passive is certain destruction ; in which sudden resistance is the only security. But from this, deliberate anger or resentment is es sentiaUy distinguished, as the latter is not naturally excited by, or intended to prevent mere harm with out appearance of wrong or injustice. Now, in order to see, as exactly as we can, what is the natural object and occasion of such resentment ; let us reflect upon the manner in which we are touched with reading, suppose, a feigned story of baseness and villainy, properly worked up to move our passions. This immediately raises indignation, somewhat of a desfre that it should be punished. And though the designed injury be prevented, yet that it was de signed is sufficient to raise this inward feeling. Suppose the story true, this inward feeUng would be as natural and as just : and one may venture to affirm, that there is scarce a man in the world, but would have it upon some occasions. It seems in us plainly connected with a sense of virtue and vice, of moral good and eril. Suppose further, we knew both the person who did and who suffered the injury : neither would this make any alteration, only that it would probably affect us more. The indigna tion raised by cruelty and injustice, and the desire of having it punished, which persons unconcerned would feel, is by no means malice. No, it is resent ment against vice and wickedness : it is one of the common bonds, by which society is held together ; 96 UPON RESENTMENT. [SERM. a fellow-feeUng, which each indiridual has in behalf of the whole species, as well as of himself And it does not appear that this, generaUy speaking, is at aU too high amongst mankind. Suppose now the injury I have been speaking of to be done against ourselves ; or those whom we consider as ourselves. It is plain, the way in which we should be affected would be exactly the same in kind : but it would certainly be in a higher degree, and less transient; because a sense of our own happiness and misery is most intimately and always present to us ; and from the very constitution of our nature, we cannot but have a greater sensibility to, and be more deeply interested in, what concerns ourselves. And this seems to be the whole of this passion, which is, properly speaking, natural to mankind : namely, a resentment against injury and wickedness in general; and in a higher degree when towards ourselves, in proportion to the greater regard which men naturally have for themselves, than for others. From hence it appears, that it is not natural, but moral evd ; it is not suffering, but injury, which raises that anger or resentment, which is of any continuance. The natural object of it is not one, who appears to the suffering person to have been only the innocent occasion of his pain or loss ; but one, who has been in a moral sense injurious either to ourselves or others. This is abundantly confirmed by observing what it is which heightens or lessens resentment; namely, the same which aggravates or lessens the feult : friendship, and former obligations, on one hand; or inadvertency, strong temptations, and mistake, on the other. AU this is so much under stood by mankind, how little soever it be reflected upon, that a person would be reckoned quite dis- VIII.J UPON RESENTMENT. 97 tracted, who should coolly resent an harm, which had not to himself the appearance of injury or wrong. Men do indeed resent what is occasioned through carelessness : but then they expect ob servance as thefr due, and so that carelessness is considered as faulty. It is likewise true, that they resent more strongly an injury done, than one which, though designed, was prevented, in cases where the guUt is perhaps the same : the reason however is, not that bare pain or loss raises resentment, but, that it gives a new, and, as I may speak, additional sense of the injury or injustice. According to the natural course of the passions, the degrees of re sentment are in proportion, not only to the degree of design and deUberation in the injurious person; but in proportion to this, joined vrith the degree of the evil designed or premeditated; since this likewise comes in to make the injustice greater or less. And the eril or harm will appear greater when they feel it, than when they only reflect upon it : so therefore wdl the injury: and consequently the resentment wUl be greater. The natural object or occasion of settled resent ment then being injury, as distinct from pain or loss; it is easy to see, that to prevent and to remedy such injury, and the miseries arising from it, is the end for which this passion was implanted in man. It is to be considered as a weapon, put into our hands by nature, against injury, injustice, and cruelty ; how it may be innocently employed and made use of, shall presently be mentioned. The account which has been now given of this passion is, in brief, that sudden anger is raised by, and was chiefly intended to prevent or remedy, mere harm distinct frpm injury ; but that it may be BUTLER, SERMONS. H 98 UPON RESENTMENT. [SERM. raised by injury, and may serve to prevent or to remedy it ; and then the occasions and effects of it are the same with the occasions and effects of de Uberate anger. But they are essentiaUy dis tinguished in this, that the latter is never occasioned by harm, distinct from injury; and its natural proper end is to remedy or prevent only that harm, which implies, or is supposed to imply, injury or moral wrong. Every one sees that these observa tions do not relate to those, who have habitually suppressed the course of their passions and affections, out of regard either to interest or rirtue ; or who, from habits of vice and folly, have changed their nature. But, I suppose, there can be no doubt but this, now described, is the general course of resent ment, considered as a natural passion, neither in creased by indulgence, nor corrected by virtue, nor prevaUed over by other passions, or particular habits of Hfe. As to the abuses of anger, which it is to be observed may be in all different degrees, the first which occurs is what is commonly called passion; to which some men are liable, in the same way as others are to the epilepsy, or any sudden particular disorder. This distemper of the mind seizes them upon the least occasion in the world, and perpetually vrithout any real reason at aU : and by means of it they are plainly, every day, every waking hour of their Uves, liable and in danger of running into the most extravagant outrages. Of a less boisterous, but not of a less innocent kind, is peevishness; which I mention with pity, vrith real pity to the unhappy creatures, who, from thefr inferior station, or other cfrcumstances and relations, are obliged to be in the way of, and to serve for a supply to it. VIII.] UPON RESENTMENT. 99 Both these, for ought that I can see, are one and the same principle : but, as it takes root in minds of different makes, it appears differently, and so is come to be distinguished by different names. That which in a more feeble temper is peevishness, and languidly discharges itself upon every thing which comes in its way ; the same principle, in a temper of greater force and sfronger passions, becomes rage and fury. In one, the humour discharges itself at once ; in the other, it is continuaUy discharging. This is the account of passion and peevishness, as distinct from each other, and appearing in different persons. It is no objection against the fruth of it, that they are both to be seen sometimes in one and the same person. With respect to deUberate resentment, the chief instances of abuse are : when, from partiality to ourselves, we imagine an injury done us, when there is none : when this partiaUty represents it to us greater than it really is : when we fall into that extravagant and monstrous kind of resentment, towards one who has innocently been the occasion of eril to us ; that is, resentment upon account of pain or inconvenience, without injury ; which is the same absurdity, as settled anger at a thing that is iaani- mate : when the indignation against injury and injustice rises too high, and is beyond proportion to the particular ill action it is exercised upon : or, lastly, when pain or harm of any kind is inflicted merely in consequence of, and to gratify, that resent ment, though naturaUy raised. It would be endless to descend into and explain aU the pecuUarities of perverseness and wayward humour which might be traced up to this passion. But there is one thing, which so generally belongs to and accompanies aU excess and abuse of it, as to H 2 100 UPON RESENTMENT. [SERM. require being mentioned : a certain determination, and resolute bent of mind, not to be convinced or set right ; though it be ever so plain, that there is no reason for the displeasure, that it was raised merely by error or misunderstanding. In this there is doubtless a great mixture of pride ; but there is somewhat more, which I cannot othervrise express, than, that resentment has taken possession of the temper and of the mind, and vrill not quit its hold. It would be too minute to inqufre whether this be any thing more than bare obstinacy : it is sufficient to observe, that it, in a very particular manner and degree, belongs to the abuses of this passion. But, notwithstanding aU these abuses, " Is not just indignation against cruelty and wrong one of the instruments ofl death, which the Author of our nature hath provided % Are not cruelty, injustice, and wrong, the natural objects of that indignation 1 Surely then it may one way or other be inno cently employed against them." True. Since there fore it is necessary for the very subsistence of the world, that injury, injustice, and cruelty, should be punished ; and since compassion, which is so natural to mankind, would render that execution of justice exceedingly difficult and uneasy ; indignation against vice and wickedness is, and may be aUowed to be, a balance to that weakness of pity, and also to any thing else which would prevent the neces sary methods of severity. Those who have never thought upon these subjects, may perhaps not see the weight of this : but let us suppose a person guilty of murder, or any other action of cruelty, and that mankind had naturaUy no indignation against such wickedness and the authors of it ; but that every body was affected towards such a criminal VIII.] UPON RESENT JIENT. 101 in the same way as towards an innocent man : compassion, amongst other things, would render the execution of justice exceedingly painful and difficult, and would often quite prevent it. And notwith standing that the principle of benevolence is denied hy some, and is really in a very low degree, that men are in great measure insensible to the happiness of their feUow-creatures ; yet they are not insensible to their misery, but are very strongly moved with it : insomuch that there plainly is occasion for that feeling, which is raised by guilt and demerit, as a balance to that of compassion. Thus much may I think justly be aUowed to resentment, in the strictest wav of moral consideration. The good infiuence which this passion has in fact upon the affairs of the world, is obrious to every one's notice. Men are plainly restrained' from injuring thefr fellow-creatures by fear of their resentment ; and it is very happy that they are so, when they would not be resfrained by a principle of vfrtue. And after an injury is done, and there is a necessity that the offender shoidd be brought to justice ; the cool consideration of reason, that the security and peace of society requires examples of justice should be made, might indeed be sufficient to procure laws to be enacted, and sentence passed : but is it that cool reflection in the injured person, which, for the most part, brings the offender to justice 1 Or is it i not resentment and indignation against the injury and the author of it ? I am afraid there is no doubt, which is commonly the case. This however is to be considered as a good effect, notvrithstanding it were much to be wished that men would act from a better principle, reason and cool refiection. The accoimt now given of the passion of resent- 102 UPON RESENTMENT. ment, as distinct from all the abuses of it, may suggest to our thoughts the following reflections : First, That vice is indeed of iU desert, and must finaUy be punished. Why should men dispute con cerning the reaUty of virtue, and whether it be founded in the nature of things, which yet surely is not matter of question ; but why should this, I say, be disputed, when every man carries about him this passion, which affords him demonstration, that the rules of justice and equity are to be the guide of his actions ? For every man naturally feels an in dignation upon seeing instances of viUainy and base ness, and therefore cannot commit the same without being self-condemned. Secondly, That we should learn to be cautious, lest we charge God foolishly, by ascribing that to him, or the nature he has given us, which is owing wholly to our own abuse of it. Men may speak of the degeneracy and corruption of the world, ac cording to the experience they have had of it ; but human nature, considered as the divine workman ship, should methinks be treated as sacred: for in the image of God made he man. That passion, from whence men take occasion to run into the dreadful rices of malice and revenge ; even that passion, as implanted in our nature by God, is not only innocent, but a generous movement of mind. It is in itself, and in its original, no more than indignation against injury and wickedness : that which is the only de formity in the creation, and the only reasonable object of abhorrence and disUke. How manifold evidence have we of the divine wisdom and goodness, when even pain in the natural world, and the passion we have been now considering in the moral, come out instances of it ! SEEMON n. UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. Matt. v. 43, 44. Fe have heard that it hath heen said. Thou shali love ihy neigh bour, and haie ihine enemy. But L say unio you. Love your enemies, bless ihem ihat curse yoii, do good to ihem thai haie you, and pray for ihem which despiiefully use you, and perse cute you. A S God Almighty foresaw the irregularities and ^ disorders, both natural and moral, which would happen in this state of things ; he hath gra ciously made some prorision against them, by giving us several passions and affections, which arise from, or whose objects are, those disorders. Of this sort are fear, resentment, compassion, and others ; of which there could be no occasion or use in a perfect state : but in the present we should be exposed to greater inconveniences without them; though there are very considerable ones, which they themselves are the occasions of. They are encumbrances indeed, but such as we are obliged to carry about with us, through this various journey of life : some of them as a guard against the violent assaults of others, and in our own defence ; some in behalf of others ; and aU of them to put us upon, and help to carry us through a course of behaviour suitable to our 104 UPON FORGIVENESS OP INJURIES. [SERM. condition, in default of that perfection of wisdom and rirtue, which would be in all respects our better security. The passion of anger or resentment hath already been largely treated of It hath been shewn, that mankind naturaUy feel some emotion of mind against injury and injustice, whoever are the sufferers by it ; and even though the injurious design be pre vented from taking effect. Let this be caUed anger, indignation, resentment, or by whatever name any one shall choose ; the thing itself is understood, and is plainly natural. It has Hkewise been observed, that this natural indignation is generaUy moderate and low enough in mankind, in each particular man, when the injury which excites it doth not affect him self, or one whom he considers as himself. Therefore the precepts to forgive, and to love our enemies, do not relate to that general indignation against injury and the authors of it, but to this feeling, or resentment when raised by private or personal in jury. But no man could be thought in earnest, who should assert, that, though indignation against injury, when others are the sufferers, is innocent and just ; yet the same indignation against it, when we ourselves are the sufferers, becomes faulty and blame able. These precepts therefore cannot be understood to forbid this in the latter case, more than in the former. Nay they cannot be understood to forbid this feeUng in the latter case, though raised to a higher degree than in the former : because, as was also observed further, from the very constitution of our nature, we cannot but have a greater sensibUity to what concerns ourselves. Therefore the precepts in the text, and others of the like import with them, must be understood to forbid only the excess and IX.J UPON FORGIVENESS OP INJURIES. 105 abuse of this natural feeling, in cases of personal and private injury : the chief instances of which excess and abuse have likewise been already re marked ; and all of them, excepting that of retalia tion, do so plainly in the very terms express some what unreasonable, disproportionate, and absurd, as to admit of no pretence or shadow of justification. But since custom and false honour are on the side of retaliation and revenge, when the resentment is natural and just ; and reasons are sometimes offered in justification of revenge in these cases ; and since love of our enemies is thought too hard a saying to , be obeyed : I will shew the cibsolute unlawflidness ofl * ihe former ; the obligations we are under to the latter; and then proceed to some reflections, which may have a more direct and immediate tendency to beget in us a right temper of mind towards those who have offended us. In showing the unlawfulness of revenge, it is not my present design to examine what is aUeged in favour of it, from the tyranny of custom and false honour, but only to consider the nature and reason of the thing itself; which ought to have prevented, and ought now to extfrpate, every thing of that kind. First, Let us begin with the supposition of that being innocent, which is pleaded for, and which shall be shewn to be altogether vicious, the supposition that we were aUowed to render evil for evil, and see what would be the consequence. Malice or resent ment towards any man hath plainly a tendency to beget the same passion in him who is the object of it ; and this again increases it in the other. It is of the very nature of this vice to propagate itself, not only by way of example, which it does in common with other vices, but in a peculiar way of its own ; 106 UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. [SERM. for resentment itself, as well as what is done in con sequence of it, is the object of resentment : hence it comes to pass, that the first offence, even when so slight as presently to be dropped and forgotten, becomes tbe occasion of entering into a long inter course of dl offices ; neither is it at aU uncommon to see persons, in this progress of strife and variance, change parts ; and him, who was at first the injured person, become more injurious and blameable than the aggressor. Put the case then, that the law of re taliation was universally received and allowed as an innocent rule of life, by all ; and the observance of it thought by many (and then it would soon come to be thought by all) a point of honour : this supposes every man in private cases to pass sentence in his own cause; and Hkewise, that auger or resentment is to be the judge. Thus, from the numberless partialities which we all have for ourselves, every one would often think himself injured when he was not : and in most cases would represent an injury as much greater than it really is ; the imagined dignity of the person offended would scarce ever fail to magnify the offence. And, if bare retaliation, or returning just the mischief received, always begets resentment in the person upon whom we retaliate, what would that excess do 1 Add to this, that he Hkewise has his partialities — there is no going on to represent this scene of rage and madness : it is manifest there would be no bounds, nor any end. Ifl the beginning ofl strife is as when one letteth out water, what would it come to when aUowed this free and unrestrained course ? As coals are to burning coals, or wood to fire ; so would these contentious men be to kindle strife. And, since the indulgence of revenge hath manifestly this tendency, and does actuaUy produce IX.] UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 107 these effects in proportion as it is allowed; a passion of so dangerous a nature ought not to be indvdged, were there no other reason against it. Secondly, It ha,th been she^vn that the passion of resentment was placed in man, upon supposition of, and as a prevention or remedy to, irregularity and disorder. Now whether it be aUowed or not, that the passion itself and the gratiflcation of it joined together are painful to the malicious person; it must however be so vrith respect to the person towards whom it is exercised, and upon whom the revenge is taken. Now, if we consider mankind, according to that fine allusion of St. Paul, as one body, and every one members one of another; it must be allowed that resentment is, vrith respect to society, a painful remedy. Thus then the very notion or idea of this passion, as a remedy or prevention of evil, and as in itself a painful means, plainly shews that it ought never to be made use of, but only in order to produce some greater good. It is to be observed, that this argument is not founded upon an aUusion or sinule; but that it is drawn from the very nature of the passion itself, and the end for which it was given us. We are obliged to make use of words taken from sensible things, to explain what is the most remote from them: and every one sees from whence the words Prevention and Remedy are taken. But, if you please, let these words be dropped: the thing itself, I suppose, may be expressed without them. That mankind is a community, that we all stand in a relation to each other, that there is a public end and interest of society which each particular is obliged to promote, is the sum of morals. Consider then the passion of resentment, as given to this one body, 108 UPON FORGIVENESS OP INJURIES. [SESM. as given to society. Nothing can be more manifest, than that resentment is to be considered as a secondary passion, placed in us upon supposition, upon account of, and with regard to, injury; not, to be sure, to promote and further it, but to render it, and the inconveniences and miseries arising from it, less and fewer than they would be without this passion. It is as manifest, that the indulgence of it is, with regard to society, a painful means of obtaining these ends. Considered in itself, it is very undesfrable, and what society must very much wish to be with out. It is in every instance absolutely an evil in itself, because it implies producing misery : and con sequently must never be indulged or gratified for itself, by any one who considers mankind as a com munity or famdy, and himself as a member of it. Let us now take this in another view. Every natural appetite, passion, and affection, may be grati fied in particular instances, without being subservient to the particular chief end, for which these several principles were respectively implanted in our nature. And, if neither this end, nor any other moral obliga tion, be contradicted, such gratification is innocent Thus, I suppose, there are cases in which each of these principles, this one of resentment excepted, may innocently be gratified, without being subser vient to what is the main end of it : that is, though it does not conduce to, yet it may be gratified without contradicting, that end, or any other obligation. But the gratification of resentment, if it be not conducive to the end for which it was given us, must neces sarily contradict, not only the general obligation to benevolence, but likewise that particular end itself The end, for which it was given, is to prevent or remedy injury; i. e. the misery occasioned by, injury; IX.J UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 109 i. e. misery itself: and the gratification of it consists in producing misery ; i. e. in contradicting the end for which it was implanted in our nature. This whole reasoning is built upon the difference there is between this passion and aU others. No other principle, or passion, hath for its end the misery of our feUow-creatures. But malice and revenge meditates evU itself; and to do mischief, to be the author of misery, is the very thing which gratifies the passion : this is what it directly tends towards, as its proper design. Other vices eventually do mischief: this alone aims at it as an end. Nothing can with reason be urged in justification of revenge, from the good effects which the indulgence of it were before mentioned a to have upon the affafrs of the world; because, though it be a remarkable instance of the wisdom of Proridence to bring good out of evd, yet rice is vice to him who is guilty of it. " But suppose these good effects are foreseen :" that is, suppose reason in a particular case leads a man the same way as passion ¦? Why then, to be sure, he should follow his reason, in this as well as in all other cases. So that, turn the matter which way ever you vrill, no more can be aUowed to this passion than what hath been already ^. As to that love of our enemies, which is com manded ; this supposes the general obligation to benevolence or good- will towards mankind : and this being supposed, that precept is no more than to forgive injuries ; that is, to keep clear of those abuses before mentioned : because that we have the habitual temper of benevolence is taken for granted. Eesentment is not inconsistent with good-wUl ; for we often see both together in very high degrees ; " Serm. VIII. p. loi. b Ibid. p. loo. 110 UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. [SEEM. not only in parents towards their chUdren, but in cases of friendship and dependence, where there is no natural relation. These contrary passions, though they may lessen, do not necessarily destroy each other. We may therefore love our enemy, and yet have resentment against him for his injurious be haviour towards us. But when this resentment en tirely destroys our natural benevolence towards him, it is excessive, and becomes maUce or revenge. The command to prevent its having this effect, i. e. to forgive injuries, is the same as to love our enemies ; because that love is always supposed, unless destroyed by resentment. " But though mankind is the natural object of benevolence, yet may it not be lessened upon vice, i. e. injury 1" AUowed : but if every degree of vice or injury must destroy that benevolence, then no man is the object of our love ; for no man is vrith out faults. " But if lower instances of injury may lessen our benevolence, why may not higher, or the highest, de stroy it V The answer is obvious. It is not man's being a social creature, much less his being a moral agent, from whence alone our obUgations to good will towards him arise. There is an obligation to it prior to either of these, arising from his being a sensible creature ; that is, capable of happiness or misery. Now this obligation cannot be superseded by his moral character. . What justifies public execu tions is, not that the guilt or demerit of the criminal dispenses vrith the obligation of good-will, neither would this justify any severity; but, that his Hfe is inconsistent with the quiet and happiness of the world : that is, a general and more enlarged obli gation necessarily destroys a particular and more IX.] UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. Ill confined one of the same kind, inconsistent with it. Guilt or injury then does not dispense with or super sede the duty of love and good- vrill. Neither does that peculiar regard to ourselves, which was before allowed to be natural" to mankind, dispense with it : because that can no way innocently heighten our resentment against those who have been injurious to ourselves in particular, any otherwise than as it heightens our sense ofthe injury or guilt; and guilt, though in the highest degree, does not, as hath been shewn, dispense with or supersede the duty of love and good-wiU. If all this be true, what can a man say, who will dispute the reasonableness, or the possibUity, of obeying the divine precept we are now considering 1 Let him speak out, and it must be thus he will speak : " Mankind, i. e. a creature defective and faulty, is the proper object of good-wiU, whatever his faults are, when they respect others ; but not when they respect me myself." That men should be affected in this manner, and act accordingly, is to be accounted for like other rices; but to assert that it ought and must be thus, is self-partiaUty possessed of the very understanding. Thus love to our eneraies, and those who have been injurious to us, is so far from being a rant, as it has been profanely caUed, that it is in truth the law of our nature, and what every one must see and own, who is not quite blinded vrith self-love. From hence it is easy to see, what is the degree in which we are commanded to love our enemies, or those who have been injurious to us. It were well if it could as easUy be reduced to practice. It cannot be imagined, that we are required to love them with ¦^ Serm. VIII. p. 96. 112 UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. [SEEM. any peculiar kind of affection. But suppose the person injured to have a due natural sense of the injury, and no more ; he ought to be affected towards the inju rious person in the same way any good men, unin terested in the case, would be; if they had the same just sense, which we have supposed the injured person to have, of the fault : after which there wiU yet re main real good-wUl towards the offender. Now what is there in all this, which should be thought impracticable 1 I am sure there is nothing in it unreasonable. It is indeed no more than that we should not indulge a passion, which, if generally indulged, would propagate itself so as almost to lay waste the world : that we should suppress that partial, that false self-love, which is the weakness of our na ture : that uneasiness and misery should not be pro duced, without any good purpose to be served by it : and that we should not be affected towards persons differently from what their nature and character require. But since to be convinced that any temper of mind, and course of behaviour, is our duty, and the con trary vicious, hath but a distant influence upon our temper and actions ; let me add some few reflections, which may have a more direct tendency to subdue those vices in the heart, to beget in us this right temper, and lead us to a right behaviour towards those who have offended us : which reflections how ever shall be such as wUl further shew the obligations we are under to it. No one, I suppose, would choose to have an indig nity put upon him, or to be injuriously treated. If then there be any probability of a misunderstanding ia the case, either from our imagining we are injured when we are not, or representing the injury to our- IX.J UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 113 selves as greater than it ready is ; one would hope an intimation of this sort might be kindly received, and that people would be glad to find the injury not so great as they imagined. Therefore, without knowing particulars, I take upon me to assure all persons who think they have received indignities or injurious treatment, that they may depend upon it, as in a manner certain, that the offence is not so great as they themselves imagine. We are in such a peculiar situation, with respect to injuries done to ourselves, that we can scarce any more see them as they really are, than our eye can see itself If we could place ourselves at a due distance, i. e. be really unpre judiced, we should frequently discern that to be in reaUty inadvertence and mistake in our enemy, which we now fancy we see to be malice or scorn. From this proper point of riew, we should likewise in aU probability see something of these latter in ourselves, and most certainly a great deal of the former. Thus the indignity or injury would almost infinitely lessen, and perhaps at last come out to be nothing at aU. Self-love is a medium of a pecuUar kind : in these cases it magnifies every thing which is amiss in others, at the same time that it lessens every thing amiss in ourselves. Anger also or hatred may be considered as another false medium of viewing things, which always repre sents characters and actions much worse than they really are. lU-will not only never speaks, but never thinks weU, ofthe person towards whom it is exercised. Thus in cases of offence and enmity, the whole charac ter and behaviour is considered with an eye to that particular part which has offended us, and the whole man appears monstrous, without any thing right or human in him : whereas the resentment should surely BUTLER, SERMONS. 1 114 UPON FORGIVENESS OP INJURIES. [SEEM. at least be confined to that particular part of the be haviour which gave offence : since the other parts of a man's life and character stand just the same as they did before. In general, there are very few instances of enmity carried to any length, but inadvertency, misunder standing, some real mistake of the case, on one side however, if not on both, has a great share in it. If these things "were attended to, these ill-humours could not be carried to any length amongst good men, and they would be exceedingly abated amongst aU. And one would hope they might be attended to : for all that these cautions come to is really no more than desiring, that things maybe considered and judged of as they are in themselves, that we should have an eye to, and beware of, what would otherwise lead us into mistakes. So that to make allowances for inadvert ence, misunderstanding, for the partialities of self- love, and the false light which anger sets things in ; I say, to make allowances for these, is not to be spoken of as an instance of humbleness of mind, or meekness and moderation of temper ; but as what common sense should suggest, to avoid judging wrong of a matter before us, though virtue and morals were out of the case. And therefore it as much belongs to ill men, who will indulge the vice I have been arguing against, as to good men, who en deavour to subdue it in themselves. In a word, all these cautions, concerning anger and self-love, are no more than desiring a man, who was looking through a glass, which either magnified or lessened, to take notice, that the objects are not in themselves what they appear through that medium. To all these things one might add, that, resentment being out of the case, there is not, properly speaking. IX. J UPON FORGIVENESS OP INJURIES. 115 any such thing as direct Ul-will in one man towards another : therefore the first indignity or injury, if it be not owing to inadvertence or misunderstanding, may however be resolved into other particular passions or self-love : principles quite distinct from ill-will, and which we ought aU to be disposed to excuse in others, from experiencing so much of them in ourselves. A great man of antiquity is reported to have said, that, as he never was indulgent to any one faidt in himself, he could not excuse those of others. This sentence could scarce with decency come out of the mouth of any human creature. But if we invert the former part, and put it thus : that he was indulgent to many faults in himself, as it is to be feared the best of us are, and yet was implacable ; how monstrous would such an assertion appear! And this is the case in respect to every human creature, in proportion as he is without the forgiving spirit I have been recommending. Further, though injury, injustice, oppression, the baseness of ingratitude, are the natural objects of in dignation, or if you please of resentment, as before explained ; yet they are likewise the objects of com passion, as they are thefr own punishment, and with out repentance wiU for ever be so. No one ever did i a designed injury to another, but at the same tune he did a much greater to himself. If therefore we would consider things justly, such an one is, according to the natural course of our affections, an object of compassion, as well as of displeasure : and to be affected really in this manner, I say reaUy, in oppo sition to show and pretence, argues the true greatness of mind. We have an example of forgiveness in this way in its utmost perfection, and which indeed in cludes in it all that is good, in that prayer of our I 2 116 UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. [SERM, blessed Saviour on the cross : Father, forgive them ; for they know not what they do. But lastly, The offences which we are all guilty of against God, and the injuries which men do to each other, are often mentioned together: and, making allowances for the infinite distance between the Majesty of heaven, and a frail mortal, and Hkewise for this, that he cannot possibly be affected or moved as we are ; offences committed by others against our selves, and the manner in which we are apt to be affected with them, give a real occasion for caUing to mind our own sins against God. Now there is an apprehension and presentiment, natural to mankiad, that we ourselves shall one time or other be dealt with as we deal with others ; and a peculiar acqui escence in, and feeling of, the equity and justice of this equal distribution. This natural notion of equity the Son of Sirach has put in the strongest way. He that revengeth shall find vengeance firom the Lord, and he will surely keep his sins in remembrance. Forgive thy neighbour the hurt he hath done unto thee, so shall thy sins also be forgiven when thou prayest. Orie man beareth hatred against another; and doth he seek pardon from the Lord ? He sheweth no mercy to a man ivhich is like himself; and doth he ask forgiveness of his own sins ^ ? Let any one read our Saviour's- parable of the king who took account of his servants'" ; and the equity and tightness of the sen tence which was passed upon him who was unmerciful to his feUow-servant, wiU be felt. There is somewhat in human nature, which accords to and falls in with that method of determination. Let us then place before our eyes the time which is represented in the parable ; that of our own death, or the final judgment. d Ecclus. xxviii. 1-4. e Matt, xviii. IX.J UPON FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 117 Suppose yourselves under the apprehensions of ap proaching death; that you were just going to appear naked and without disguise before the Judge of aU the earth, to give an account of your behaviour to wards your fellow-creatures : could any thing raise more dreadful apprehensions of that judgment, than the refiection that you had been implacable, and without mercy towards those who had offended you : Avithout that forgiving spfrit towards others, which that it may now be exercised towards yourselves, is your only hope 1 And these natural apprehensions are authorized by ou.r Saviour's application of the parable : So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, ij" ye from your hearts florgive not every one his brother their trespasses. On the other hand, sup pose a good man in the same circumstance, in the last part and close of Ufe ; conscious of many frailties, as the best are, but conscious too that he had been meek, forgiving, and merciful ; that he had in sim plicity of heart been ready to pass over offences against himself : the having felt this good spfrit will give him, not only a full riew of the amiableness of it, but the surest hope that he shall meet with it in his Judge. This likewise is confirmed by his own declaration : If ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will likewise forgive you. And that we might have a constant sense of it upon our mind, the condition is expressed in our daily prayer. A for giring spfrit is therefore absolutely necessary, as ever we hope for pardon of our own sins, as ever we hope for peace of mind in our dying moments, or for the divine mercy at that day when we shall most stand in need of it. SERMON X. UPON SELF-DECEIT. 2 Samuel xii. 7. And Nathan said to David, Thou ari ihe man. rpHESE words are the application of Nathan's -*- parable to David, upon occasion of his adultery with Bathsheba, and the murder of Uriah her husband. The parable, which is related in the most beautiful simplicity, is this : "There were two men in one city 4 the one rich, and the other poor. The rich inan had exceeding many flocks and herds : but the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe- lamb, which he had bought and nourished up : and it grew up together with liim, and with his children ; it did eat ofl his own meat, and dra,nk of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take ofl his own flock, and of his own herd, to dress flor the wayflaring man that was cojne unto hirn ; but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it flor the man that was come to him. And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man ; and he said to Nathan, as the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die: and he a Ver. I. UPON SELF-DECEIT. 119 shall -restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity. David passes sen tence, not only that there should be a fourfold resti tution made ; but he proceeds to the rigour of justice, the man that hath done this thing shall die : and this judgment is pronounced with the utmost indigna tion against such an act of inhumanity ; As the Lord liveth, he shall surely die: and his anger was greatly kindled against the man. And the prophet answered, Thoit art the man. He had been guilty of much greater inhumanity, with the utmost de Uberation, thought, and contrivance. Near a year must have passed, between the time of the com mission of his crimes, and the time of the Prophet's coming to him ; and it does not appear from the story, that he had in all this whUe the least re morse or contrition. There is not any thing, relating to men and characters, more surprising and unaccountable, than this partiality to themselves, which is observable in many ; as there is nothing of more melancholy refiection, respecting moraUty, virtue, and religion. Hence it is that many men seem perfect strangers to their own characters. They think and reason and judge quite differently upon any matter re lating to themselves, from what they do in cases of others where they are not interested. Hence it is one hears people exposing follies, which they themselves are eminent for ; and tallying with great severity against particular rices, which, if all the world be not mistaken, they themselves are notoriously guilty of. This self-ignorance and self- partiality may be in all different degrees. It is a lower degree of it which Darid himself refers to in these words. Who can tell how oft he offendeth 1 0 120 UPON SELF-DECEIT. [SERM. cleanse thou me from my secret faults. This is the ground of that advice of Elihu to Job : Surely it is meet to be said unto God, — That which I see not, teach thou me ; if I have done iniquity, I will do no more. And Solomon saw this thing in a very strong light, when he said. He ihat trusteth his own heart is a fool. This Hkewise was the reason why that precept, Know thyself, was so frequently inculcated by the philosophers of old. For if it were not for that partial and fond regard to our selves, it would certainly be no great difficulty to know our own character, what passes vrithin the bent and bias of our mind ; much less would there be any difficulty in judging rightly of our own actions. But from this partiality it frequently comes to pass, that the observation of many men's being themselves last of all acquainted wdth what falls out in their own families, may be applied to a nearer home, to what passes within their own breasts. There is plainly, in the generality of mankind, an absence of doubt or distrust, in a very great measure, as to their moral character and behaviour ; and like wise a disposition to take for granted, that all is right and weU with them in these respects. The former is owing to their not reflecting, not exercising their judgment upon themselves ; the latter, to self- love. I am not speaking of that extravagance, which is sometimes to be met with ; instances of persons declaring in words at length, that they never were in the wrong, nor had ever any diffidence of the justness of their conduct, in their whole lives. No, these people are too far gone to have any thing said to them. The thing before us is indeed of this kind, but in a lower degree, and confined to the N.J UPON SELF-DECEIT. 121 moral character ; somewhat of which we almost all of us have, without reflecting upon it. Now con sider how long, and how grossly, a person of the best understanding might be imposed upon by one of whom he had not any suspicion, und in whom he placed an entire confidence ; especially if there were friendship and real kindness in the case : surely this holds even stronger with respect to that self we are all so fond of. Hence arises in men a disregard of reproof and instruction, rides of conduct and moral discipliae, which occasionally come in their way : a disregard, I say, of these ; not in every respect, but in this single one, namely, as what may be of service to them in particular towards mending their own hearts and tempers, and making them better men. It never in earnest comes into thefr thoughts, whether such admonitions may not relate, and be of service to themselves ; and this quite distinct from a positive persuasion to the contrary, a persuasion from re fiection that they are innocent and blameless in those respects. Thus we may invert the observation which is somewhere made upon Brutus, that he never read, but in order to make himself a better man. It scarce comes into the thoughts of the generality of mankind, that this use is to be made of moral refiections which they meet with ; that this use, I say, is to be made of them by themselves, for every body observes and wonders that it is not done by others. Further, there are instances of persons having so fixed and steady an eye upon their own interest, whatever they place it in, and the interest of those whom they consider as themselves, as in a manner to regard nothing else ; their views are almost confined to this alone. Now we cannot be acquainted with. 122 UPON SELF-DECEIT. [SERM. or in any propriety of speech be said to know any thing, but what we attend to. If therefore they attend only to one side, they really will not, cannot see or know what is to be aUeged on the other. Though a man hath the best eyes in the world, he cannot see any way but that which he turns them. Thus these persons, without passing over the least, the most minute thing, which can possibly be urged in favour of themselves, shall overlook entirely the plainest and most obrious things on the other side. And whdst they are under the power of this temper, thought and consideration upon the matter before them has scarce any tendency to set them right : because they are engaged ; and their deliberation concerning an action to be done, or reflection upon it afterwards, is not to see whether it be right, but to find out reasons to justify or palliate it ; palliate it, not to others, but to themselves. In some there is to be observed a general ignor ance of themselves, and wrong way of thinking and judging in every thing relating to themselves ; their fortune, reputation, every thing in which self can come in : and this perhaps attended with the rightest judgment in all other matters. In others, this partiality is not so general, has not taken hold of the whole man, but is confined to some particular favourite passion, interest, or pursuit ; suppose am bition, coveteousness, or any other. And these persons may probably judge and determine what is perfectly just and proper, even in things in which they themselves are concerned, if these things have * no relation to their particular favourite passion or pursuit. Hence arises that amazing incongruity, and seeming inconsistency of character, from whence slight observers take it for granted, that the whole X.J UPON SELF-DECEIT. 123 is hypocritical and false ; not being able otherwise to reconcile the several parts : whereas in truth there is real honesty, so far as it goes. There is such a thmg as men's being honest to such a degree, and in such respects, but no further. And this, as it is frue, so it is absolutely necessary to be taken notice of, and aUowed them ; such general and un- distinguishing censure of their whole character, as designing and false, being one main thing which confirms them in their self-deceit. They know that the whole censure is not true ; and so take for granted that no part of it is. But to go on vrith the explanation of the thing itself: Vice in general consists in having an un reasonable and too great regard to ourselves, in com parison of others. Bobbery and murder is never from the love of injustice or cruelty, but to gratify some other passion, to gain some supposed ad vantage : and it is false selfishness alone, whether cool or passionate, which makes a man resolutely pursue that end, be it ever so much to the injury of another. But whereas, in common and ordinary wickedness, this unreasonableness, this partiality and selfishness, relates only, or chiefiy, to the temper and passions, in the characters we are now considering, it reaches to the understanding, and influences the very judgment b. And, besides that general want of b That peculiar regard for ourselves which frequently produces this partiality of judgment in our own favour, may have a quite contrary effect, and occasion the utmost diffidence and distrust of ourselves; were it only, as it may set us upon a more frequent and strict survey and review of our own character and hehaviour. This search or recollection itself implies somewhat of diffidence ; and the discoveries we make, what is brought to our view, may possibly increase it. Good-will to another may either blind our judgment, so as to make us overlook his faults ; or it may put us upon exercising 124 UPON SELF-DECEIT. [SERM. distrust and diffidence concerning our own character, there are, you see, two things, which may thus prejudice and darken the understanding itself: that over-fondness for ourselves, which we are all so Hable to ; and also being under the power of any particular passion or appetite, or engaged in any particular pursuit. And' these, especially the last of the two, may be in so great a degree, as to influence our j udgment, even of other persons and their behaviour. Thus a man, whose temper is formed to ambition or coveteousness, shall even approve of them sometimes in others. This seems to be in a good measure the account of self-partiaUty and self-deceit, when traced up to its original. Whether it be or be not thought satis factory, that there is such a thing is manifest ; and that it is the occasion of great part of the unreason able behaviour of men towards each other : that by means of it they palliate their vices and foUies to themselves : and that it prevents their applying to themselves those reproofs and instructions, which they meet with either in scripture or in moral and religious discourses, though exactly suitable to the state of their own mind, and the course of their behaviour. There is one thing further to be added that judgment with greater strictness, to see whether he is so fault less and perfect as we wish him. If that peculiar regard to ourselves leads us to examine our own character with this greater severity, in order really to improve and grow better, it is the most commend able turn of mind possible, and can scarce be to excess. But if, as every thing hath its counterfeit, we are so much employed about ourselves in order to disguise what is amiss, and to make a better appearance ; or if our attention to ourselves has chieily this effect ; it is liable to run up into the greatest weakness and excess, and is like all other excesses its own disappointment : for scarce any shew themselves to advantage, who are over solicitous of doing so. X.J UPON SELF-DECEIT. 125 here, that the temper we distinguish by hardness of heart with respect to others, joined with this self- partiality, wdl carry a man almost any lengths of wickedness, in the way of oppression, hard usage of others, and even to plain injustice ; without his having, from what appears, any real sense at all of it. This indeed was not the general character of David : for he plainly gave scope to the affections of com passion and good-will, as weU as to his passions of another kind. But as some occasions and circumstances lie more open to this self-deceit, and give it greater scope and opportunities than others, these require to be par ticularly mentioned. It is to be observed then, that as there are express determinate acts of vrickedness, such as murder, adultery, theft: so, on the other hand, there are numberless cases in which the vice and wickedness cannot be exactly defined ; but consists in a certain general temper and course of action, or in the neglect of some duty, suppose charity or any other, whose bounds and degrees are not fixed. This is the very province of self-deceit and self-partiality : here it governs without check or control. " For what com mandment is there broken ? Is there a transgression where there is no law 1 a vice which cannot be defined ^ " Whoever wdl consider the whole commerce of human life, will see that a great part, perhaps the greatest part, of the intercourse amongst mankind, cannot be reduced to fixed determinate rules. Yet in these cases there is a right and a wrong : a merci ful, a Uberal, a kind and compassionate behaviour, which surely is our duty ; and an unmerciful con tracted spirit, an hard and oppressive course of 126 UPON SELF-DECEIT. [SERM. behaviour, which is most certainly immoral and vicious. But who can define precisely, wherein that contracted spirit and hard usage of others consist, as murder and theft may be defined 1 There is not a word in our language which expresses more detest able wickedness than oppression : yet the nature of this rice cannot be so exactly stated, nor the bounds of it so determinately marked, as that we shall be able to say in all instances, where rigid right and justice ends, and oppression begins. In these cases there is great latitude left, for every one to deter mine for, and consequently to deceive himself It is chiefiy in these cases that self-deceit comes in ; as every one must see that there is much larger scope for it here, than in express, single, determinate acts of wickedness. However it comes in with respect to the circumstances attending the most gross and determinate acts of wickedness. Of this, the story of David, now before us, affords the most astonishing instance. It is really prodigious, to see a man, before so remarkable for virtue and piety, going on deliberately from adultery to murder, with the same cool contrivance, and, from what appears, with as Httle disturbance, as a man would endeavour to prevent the ill consequences of a mistake he had made in any common matter. That total insensi- bdity of mind with respect to those horrid crimes, after the commission of them, manifestly shews that he did some way or other delude himself : and this could not be with respect to the, crimes themselves, they were so manifestly of the grossest kind. What the particular cfrcumstances were, with which he extenuated them, and quieted and deceived himself, is not related. Haring thus explained the nature of internal X.] UPON SELF-DECEIT. 127 hypocrisy and self-deceit, and remarked the occasions upon Avhich it exerts itself; there are several things further to be observed concerning it ; that all of the sources, to which it was traced up, are sometimes observable together in one and the same person : but that one of them is more remarkable, and to a higher degree, in some, and others of them are so in others : that in general it is a complicated thing ; and may be in aU different deg-rees and kmds : that the temper itself is essentiaUy in its own nature vicious and immoral. It is unfairness ; it is dishonesty ; it is falseness of heart : and is therefore so far from extenuating guilt, that it is itself the greatest of all guilt in proportion to the degree it prevails ; for it is a corruption of the whple moral character in its principle. Our understanding, and sense of good and evil, is the Ught and guide of life : "T/" therefore this light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness ! For this reason our Saviour puts an evil eye as the dfrect opposite to a single eye ; the absence of that simplicity, which these last words imply, being itself evd and ricious. And whilst men are under the power of this temper, in propor tion stUl to the degree they are so, they are fortified on every side against conviction : and when they hear the vice and folly of what is in truth their own course of life, exposed in the justest and strongest manner, they wdl often assent to it, and even carry the matter further ; persuadUig themselves, one does not know how, but some way or other persuading themselves, that they are out of the case, and that it hath no relation to them. Yet, notwithstanding this, there frequently appears a suspicion, that aU is not right, or as it should be ; and perhaps there « Matt. vi. 23. 128 UPON SELF-DECEIT. [SEKM. is always sd, bottom somewhat of this sort. There are doubtless many instances of the ambitious, the revengeful, the covetous, and those whom with too great indulgence we only call the men of pleasure, who will not allow themselves to think how guilty they are, who explain and argue away their guilt to themselves : and though they do really impose upon themselves in some measure, yet there are none of them but have, if not a proper knowledge, yet at least an implicit suspicion, where the weakness lies, and what part of their behaviour they have reason to wish unknown or forgotten for ever. Truth, and real good sense, and thorough integrity, carry along with them a peculiar consciousness of thefr own genuineness : there is a feeling belonging to them, which does not accompany their counterfeits, error, folly, half-honesty, partial and slight regards to virtue and right, so far only as they are consistent with that course of gratification which men happen to be set upon. And, if this be the case, it is much the same as if we should suppose a man to have had a general view of some scene, enough to satisfy him that it was very disagreeable, and then to shut his eyes, that he might not have a particular or distinct view of its several deformities. It is as easy to close i the eyes of the mind, as those of the body : and the former is more frequently done with wilfulness, and yet not attended to, than the latter ; the actions of the mind being more quick and transient than those of the senses. This may be further dlustrated by another thing observable in ordinary life. It is not uncommon for persons, who run out their fortunes, entirely to neglect looking into the state of thefr affairs, and this from a general knowledge, that the condition of them is bad. These extravagant people X.] UPON SELF- DECEIT. 129 are perpetually ruined before they themselves ex pected it : and they tell you for an excuse, and tell you truly, that they did not think they were so much in debt, or that thefr expenses so far exceeded thefr income. And yet no one will take this for an excuse, who is sensible that their ignorance of their particular circumstances was ovring to their general knowledge of them ; that is, thefr general knowledge, that matters were not well with them, prevented thefr looking into particulars. There is somewhat of the like kind with this in respect to morals, virtue, and religion. Men find that the survey of themselves, thefr own heart and temper, their own Hfe and behariour, doth not afford them satisfaction : things are not as they should be: therefore they turn away, will not go over particulars, or look deeper, lest they should find more amiss. For who would choose to be put out of humour with himself 1 No one, surely, if it were not in order to mend, and to be more thoroughly and better pleased with himself for the future. If this sincere self-enjoyment and home-satisfaction be thought desfrable, and worth some pains and diUgence ; the foUowing reflections will, I suppose, deserve your attention ; as what may be of service and assistance to all who are in any measure honestly disposed, for avoiding that fatal self-deceit, and towards getting acquainted with themselves. The flrst is, that those who have never had any suspicion of, who have never made aUowances for, this weakness in themselves, who have never (if I may be allowed such a manner of speaking) caught themselves in it, may almost take for granted that they have been very much misled by it. For con sider : nothing is more manifest, than that affection BUTLER, SEEMONS. K 130 UPON SELF-DECEIT. [SERM. and passion of all kinds influence the judgment. Now as we have naturally a greater regard to our selves than to others, as the private affection is more prevalent than the pubUc ; the former vrill have proportionally a greater influence upon the judgment, upon our way of considering things. People are not backward in owning this partiality of judgment, in cases of friendship and natural relation. The reason is obvious, why it is not so readily acknow ledged, when the interest which misleads us is more confined, confined to ourselves : but we aU take notice of it in each other in these cases. There is not any observation more common, than that there is no judging of a matter from hearing only one side. This is not founded upon supposition, at least it is not always, of a formed design in the relater to deceive : for it holds in cases, where he expects that the whole wUl be told over again by the other side. But the supposition, which this observation is founded upon, is the very thing now before us ; namely, that men are exceedingly prone to deceive themselves, and judge too favourably in every re spect, where themselves and their own interest are concemed. Thus, though we have not the least reason to suspect that such an interested person hath any intention to deceive us, yet we of course make great allowances for his having deceived him self If this be general, almost universal, it is pro digious that every man can think himself an ex ception and that he is free from this self-partiality. The direct contrary is the truth. Every man may take for granted that he has a great deal of it, tdl, from the strictest observation upon himself, he finds particular reason to think otherwise. Secondly, There is one easy and almost sure way X.] UPON SELF-DECEIT. 131 to avoid being misled by this self-partiality, and to get acquainted with our real character : to have regard to the suspicious part of it, and keep a steady eye over ourselves in that respect. Suppose then a man fully satisfied vrith himself, and his own be haviour ; such an one, if you please, as the Pharisee in the Gospel, or a better man. — Well ; but allowing this good opinion you have of yourself to be true, yet every one is liable to be misrepresented. Sup pose then an enemy were to set about defaming you, what part of your character would he single out 1 What particular scandal, think you, would he be most likely to fix upon you 1 And what would the world be most ready to beUeve 1 There is scarce a man Uring but could, from the most transient superficial view of himself, answer this question. What is that ill thing, that faulty behaviour, which I am apprehensive an enemy, who was thoroughly acquainted with me, would be most likely to lay to my charge, and which the world would be most apt to believe 1 It is indeed possible that a man may not be guilty in that respect. All that I say is, let him in plainness and honesty fix upon that part of his character for a particular survey and refiection ; and by this he wdl come to be acquainted, whether he be guUty or innocent in that respect, and how far he is one or the other. Thirdly, It would very much prevent our being misled by this self-partiality, to reduce that practical rule of our Saviour, Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, even so do unto ihem, to our judg ment, and way of thinking. This rule, you see, consists of two parts. One is, to substitute another for yourself, when you take a survey of any part of your behaviour, or consider what is proper and fit K 2, 132 UPON SELF-DECEIT. [SERM. and reasonable for you to do upon any occasion : the other part is, that you substitute yourself in the room of another ; consider yourself as the person affected by such a behaviour, or towards whom such an action is done : and then you would not only see, but likewise feel, the reasonableness or unreason ableness of such an action or behaviour. But, alas ! the rule itself may be dishonestly appUed : there are persons who have not impartiality enough with respect to themselves, nor regard enough for others, to be able to make a just application of it. This just appUcation, if men would honestly make it, is in effect all that I have been recommending ; it is the whole thing, the direct contrary to that inward dishonesty as respecting our intercourse with our feUow-creatures. And even the bearing of this rule in their thoughts may be of some service ; the attempt thus to apply it, is an attempt towards being fafr and impartial, and may chance unawares to shew them to themselves, to shew them the truth of the case they are considering. Upon the whole it is manifest, that there is such a thing as this self-partiality and self-deceit : that in some persons it is to a degree which would be thought incredible, were not the instances before our eyes ; of which the behaviour of David is perhaps the highest possible one, in a single particular case ; for there is not the least appearance, that it reached his general character : that we are almost aU of us infiuenced by it in some degree, and in some respects : that therefore every one ought to have an eye to and beware of it. And all that I have further to add upon this subject is, that either there is a difference between right and wrong, or there is not : religion is true, or it is not. If it be not, there is no X.J UPON SELF-DECEIT. 133 reason for any concern about it : but if it be true, it requfres real fairness of mind and honesty of heart. And, if people wdl be wicked, they had better of the two be so from the common vicious passions without , such refinements, than from this deep and calm source of delusion ; which undermines the whole principle of gcod ; darkens that Ught, that candle ofthe Lord within, which is to direct our steps; and corrupts conscience, which is the guide of life. SERMON XI. UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. RREACHED ON ADVENT SUNDAY. Romans xiii. 9. And if ihere be any oiher commandment, it is briefly compre hended in ihis saying, namely. Thou shalt love ihy neighbour as thyself. TT is commonly observed, that there is a dispo- -^ sition in men to complain of the riciousness and corruption of the age in which they live, as greater than that of former ones ; which is usually foUowed with this further observation, that mankind has been in that respect much the same in aU times. Now, not to determine whether this last be not contra dicted by the accounts of history; thus much can scarce be doubted, that rice and folly takes different turns, and some particular kinds of it are more open and avowed in some ages than in others : and, I sup pose, it may be spoken of as very much the distinction of the present to profess a contracted spirit, and greater regards to self-interest, than appears to have been done formerly. Upon this account it seems worth while to inquire, whether private in terest is likely to be promoted in proportion to the UPON THE LOVE OP OUR NEIGHBOUR. 135 degree in which self-love engrosses us, and prevails over all other principles; or whether the contracted affection may not possibly be so prevalent as to disappoint itself, and even contradict its own end, private good. And since, further, there is generaUy thought to be some pecuUar kind of contrariety between self- love and the love of our neighbour, between the pur suit of public and of private good ; insomuch that when you are recommending one of these, you are supposed to be speaking against the other; and from hence arises a secret prejudice against, and frequently open scorn of all talk of public spirit, and real good- wdl to our fellow-creatures ; it wUl be necessary to inquire what respect benevolence hath to self-love, and the pursuit of private interest to the pursuit ofl public : or whether there be any thing of that pecu liar inconsistence and contrariety between them, over and above what there is between self-love and other passions and particular affections, and thefr respective pursuits. These inqufries, it is hoped, may be favourably attended to : for there shall be all possible concessions made to the favourite passion, which hath so much allowed to it, and whose cause is so universally pleaded : it shall be treated with the utmost tender ness and concern for its interests. In order to this, as well as to determine the fore- mentioned questions, it will be necessary to consider the nature, the object, and end of that self-love, as distinguished from other principles or affections in the mind, and their respective objects. Every man hath a general desire of his own hap piness; and likewise a variety of particular affections, passions, and appetites to particular extemal objects. 136 UPON THE LOVE OF [SERII. The former proceeds from, or is self-love ; and seems inseparable from all sensible creatures, who can reflect upon themselves and their own interest or happiness, so as to have that interest an object to their minds : what is to be said of the latter is, that they proceed from, or together make up that particular nature, ac cording to which man is made. The object the former pursues is somewhat internal, our own happiness, en joyment, satisfaction ; whether we have, or have not, a distinct particular perception what it is, or wherein it consists : the objects of the latter are this or that particular external thing, which the affections tend towards, and of which it hath always a particular idea or perception. The principle we call self-love never seeks any thing external for the sake of the thing, but only as a means of happiness or good : particular affections rest in the extemal things them selves. One belongs to man as a reasonable creature refiecting upon his own interest or happiness. The other, though quite distinct from reason, are as much a part of human nature. That all particular appetites and passions are to wards external things themselves, distinct from the pleasure arising from them, is manifested from hence ; that there could not be this pleasure, were it not for that prior suitableness between the object and the passion : there could be no enjoyment or deUght from one thing more than another, from eating food more than from swallowing a stone, if there were not an ' affection or appetite to one thing more than another. Every particular affection, even the love of our neighbour, is as really our own affection, as self-love ; and the pleasure arising from its gratification is as much my own pleasure, as the pleasure self-love would have, from knowing I myself should be happy some XI.J OUE NEIGHBOUR. 137 time hence, would be my own pleasure. And if, be cause every particular affection is a man's own, and the pleasure arising from its gratification his own pleasure, or pleasure to himself, such particular affec tion must be called self-love ; according to this way of speaking, no creature whatever can possibly act but merely from self-love ; and every action and every affection whatever is to be resolved up into this one principle. But then this is not the language of man kind : or if it were, we should want words to express the difference, between the principle of an action, pro ceeding from cool consideration that it wdl be to my own advantage ; and an action, suppose of revenge, or of friendship, by which a man runs upon certain ruin, to do evil or good to another. It is manifest the principles of these actions are totally different, and so want different words to be distinguished by : all that they agree in is, that they both proceed from, and are done to gratify an incUnation in a man's self But the principle or incUnation in one case is self-love ; in the other, hatred or love of another. There is then a distinction between the cool principle of self-love, or general desire of our own happiness, as one part of our nature, and one principle of action ; and the par ticular affections towards particular external objects, as another part of our nature, and another principle of action. How much soever therefore is to be aUowed to self-love, yet it cannot be allowed to be the whole of our inward constitution ; because, you see, there are other parts or principles which come into it. Further, private happiUess or good is all which self-love can make us desire, or be concerned about : in having this consists its gratification : it is an affec tion to ourselves ; a regard to our own interest, hap piness, and private good: and in the proportion a 138 UPON THE LOVE OF [SERM. man hath this, he is interested, or a lover of himself Let this be kept in mind ; because there is commonly, as I shaU presently have occasion to observe, another sense put upon these words. On the other hand, particular affections tend towards particular extemal things : these are thefr objects : having these is thefr end : in this consists thefr gratification : no matter whether it be, or be not, upon the whole, our interest or happiness. An action done from the former of these principles is called an interested action. An action proceeding from any of the latter has its de nomination of passionate, ambitious, friendly, revenge ful, or any other, from the particular appetite or affection from which it proceeds. Thus self-love as one part of human nature, and the several particular principles as the other part, are, themselves, their objects and ends, stated and shewn. From hence it will be easy to see, how far, and in what ways, each of these can contribute and be sub servient to the private good of the individual. Hap piness does not consist in self-love. The desfre of happiness is no more the thing itself, than the desfre of riches is the possession or enjoyment of them. People may love themselves with the most entire and imbounded affection, and yet be extremely miserable. Neither can self-love any way help them out, but by setting them on work to get rid of the causes of thefr misery, to gain or make use of those objects which are by nature adapted to afford satisfac tion. Happiness or satisfaction consists only in the enjoyment of those objects, which are by nature suited to our several particular appetites, passions, and af fections. So that if self-love wholly engrosses us, and leaves no room for any other principle, there can be absolutely no such thing at aU as happiness, xl] our NEIGHBOUR. 139 or enjoyment of any kind whatever; since happiness consists ill the gratification of particvdar passions, which supposes the having of them. Self-love then does not constitute this or that to be our interest or good ; but, our interest or good being constituted by nature and supposed, self-love only puts us upon obtaining and securing it. Therefore, if it be pos sible, that self-love may prevad and exert itself in a degree or manner which is not subservient to this end ; then it vrill not follow, that our interest will be promoted in proportion to the degree in which that principle engrosses us, and prevaUs over others. Nay further, the private and contracted affection, when it is not subservient to this end, private good, may, for any thing that appears, have a direct contrary ten dency and effect. And if we wdl consider the matter, we shall see that it often really has. Disengagement is absolutely necessary to enjoyment : and a person may have so steady and fixed an eye upon his own interest, whatever he places it in, as may hinder him from aitoK/iwgr to many gratifications within his reach, which others have their minds flree and open to. Over-fondness for a child is not generally thought to be for its advantage : and, if there be any guess to be made from appearances, surely that character we call selfish is not the most promising for happiness. Such a temper may plainly be, and exert itself in a degree and manner which may give unnecessary and useless solicitude and anxiety, in a degree and manner which may prevent obtaining the means and materials ot enjoyment, as well as the making use of them. Im moderate self-love does very iU consult its own in terest : and, how much soever a paradox it may ap pear, it is certainly true, that even from self-love we should endeavour to get over all inordinate regard 140 UPON THE LOVE OP [SERM. to, and consideration of ourselves. Every one of our passions and affections hath its natural stint and bound, which may easily be exceeded ; whereas our enjoyments can possibly be but in a determinate measure and degree. Therefore such excess of the affection, since it cannot procure any enjoyment, must in all cases be useless ; but is generally attended with inconveniences, and often is downright pain and misery. This holds as much with regard to self-love as to all other affections. The natural degree ofit, so far as it sets us on work to gain and make use of the materials of satisfaction, may be to our real advantage ; but beyond or besides this, it is in several respects an inconvenience and disadvantage. Thus it appears, that private interest is so far from being Hkely to be promoted in proportion to the degree in which self-love engrosses us, and prevails over all other principles ; that the contracted affection may be so prevalent as to disappoint itself, and even contradict 'its own end, private good. "But who, except the most sordidly covetous, ever thought there was any rivalship between the love of greatness, honour, power, or between sensual appe tites, and self-love ? No, there is a perfect harmony between them. It is by means of these particular appetites and affections that self-love is gratffied in enjoyment, happiness, and satisfaction. The compe tition and rivalship is between self-love and the love of our neighbour : that affection which leads us out of ourselves, makes us regardless of our own interest, and substitute that of another in its stead." Whether then there be any peculiar competition and contrariety in this case, shall now be considered. Self-love and interestedness was stated to consist in or be an affection to ourselves, a regard to our XI.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. Ill own private good : it is therefore distinct from be nevolence, which is an affection to the good of oiu- fellow-creatures. But that benevolence is distinct frora, that is, not the same thing with self-love, is no reason for its being looked upon with any peculiar suspicion ; because every principle whatever, by means of which self-love is gratified, is distinct from it : and aU things which are distinct from each other are equally so. A man has an affection or aversion to another : that one of these tends to, and is grati fied by doing good, that the other tends to, and is gratified by doing harm, does not in the least alter the respect which either one or the other of these inward feeUngs has to self-love. We use the word property so as to exclude any other persons having an interest in that of which we say a particular man has the property. And we often use the word selfish so as to exclude in the same manner all regards to the good of others. But the cases are not parallel : for though that exclusion is really part of the idea of property ; yet such positive exclusion, or bringing this pecuUar disregard to the good of others into the idea of self-love, is in reality adding to the idea, or changing it from what it was before stated to consist in, namely, in an affection to ourselves*. This being the whole idea of self-love, it can no otherwise exclude good-will or love of others, than merely by not in cluding it, no otherwise, than it excludes love of arts or reputation, or of any thuig else. Neither on the other hand does benevolence, any more than love of arts or of reputation, exclude self-love. Love of our neighbour then has just the same respect to, is no more distant from, self-love, than hatred of our neigh bour, or than love or hatred of any thing else. Thus a p. 137. 142 UPON THE LOVE OF [SERM. the principles, from which men rush upon certain ruin for the destruction of an enemy, and for the preservation of a friend, have the same respect to the private affection, and are equally interested, or equaUy disinterested : and it is of no avail, whether they are said to be one or the other. Therefore to those who are shocked to hear virtue spoken of as dis interested, it may be aUowed that it is indeed absurd to speak thus of it ; unless hatred, several particular instances of vice, and all the common affections and aversions in mankind, are acknowledged to be disin terested too. Is there any less inconsistence, between the love of inanimate things, or of creatures merely sensitive, and self-love ; than between self-love and the love of our neighbour ? Is desire of and delight in the happiness of another any more a diminution of self-love, than desire of and delight in the esteem of another 1 They are both equally desfre of and de Ught in somewhat extemal to ourselves : either both or neither are so. The object of self-love is expressed in the term self: and every appetite of sense, and every particular affection of the heart, are equally interested or disinterested, because the objects of them aU are equaUy self or somewhat else. Whatever ridicule therefore the mention of a disinterested prin ciple or action may be supposed to lie open to, must, upon the matter being thus stated, relate to ambition, and every appetite and particular affection, as much as to benevolence. And indeed all the ridicule, and aU the grave perplexity, of which this subject hath had its full share, is merely from words. The most intelUgible way of speaking of it seems to be this : that self-love and the actions done in consequence of it (for these wiU presently appear to be the same as to this question) are interested ; that particular affec- XI.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 143 tions towards external objects, and the actions done in consequence of those affections, are not so. But every one is at liberty to use words as he pleases. All that is here insisted upon is, that ambition, re venge, benevolence, all particular passions whatever, and the actions they produce, are equally interested or disinterested. Thus it appears that there is no peculiar contra riety between self-love and benevolence ; no greater competition between these, than between any other particular affections and self-love. This relates to the affections themselves. Let us now see whether there be any peculiar contrariety between the re spective courses of life which these affections lead to ; whether there be any greater competition between the pursuit of private and of public good, than between any other particular pursuits and that of private good. There seems no other reason to suspect that there is any such peculiar contrariety, but only that the course of action which benevolence leads to, has a more direct tendency to promote the good of others, than that course of action which love of reputation suppose, or any other particular affection leads to. But that any affection tends to the happiness of another, does not hinder its tending to one's own happiness too. That others enjoy the benefit of the air and the light of the sun, does not hinder but that these are as much one's own private advantage now, as they would be if we had the property of them ex clusive of all others. So a pursuit which tends to promote the good of another, yet may have as great tendency to promote private interest, as a pursuit which does not tend to the good of another at all, or which is mischievous to him. All particular affections 144 UPON THE LOVE OF [SEEM. whatever, resentment, benevolence, love of arts, equally lead to a course of action for their own gratification, i. e. the gratification of ourselves ; and the gratification of each gives deUght : so far then it is manifest they have all the same respect to private interest. Now take into consideration further, con cerning these three pursuits, that the end ofthe first is the harm, of the second, the good of another, of the last, somewhat indifferent ; and is there any neces sity, that these additional considerations should alter the respect, which we before saw these three pursuits had to private interest ; or render any one of them less conducive to it, than any other ? Thus one man's affection is to honour as his end ; in order to obtain which he thinks no pains too great. Suppose another, with such a singularity of mind, as to have the same affection to public good as his end, which he endeavours with the same labour to obtain. In case of success, surely the man of benevolence hath as great enjoyment as the man of ambition ; they both equally having the end their affections, in the same degree, tended to : but in case of disappointment, the benevolent man has clearly the advantage ; since en deavouring to do good considered as a virtuous pur suit, is gratified by its own consciousness, i. e. is in a degree its own reward. And as to these two, or benevolence and any other particular passions whatever, considered in a further view, as forming a general temper, which more or less disposes us for enjoyment of all the common blessings of life, distinct from their own gratification : is benevolence less the temper of tranqudlity and freedom than ambition or covetousness 1 Does the benevolent man appear less easy with himself, from his love to his neighbour 1 Does he less relish his XI.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 145 being 1 Is there any pecuUar gloom seated on his face 1 Is his mind less open to entertainment, to any particular gratification 1 Notlnng is more manifest, than that being in good humour, which is benevolence whilst it lasts, is itself the temper of satisfaction and enjoyment. Suppose then a man sitting down to consider how he might become most easy to himself, and attaia the greatest pleasure he could ; all that which is his real natural happiness. This can only consist in the enjoyment of those objects, which are by nature adapted to om- several faculties. These particular enjoyments make up the sum total of our happiness : and they are supposed to arise from riches, honours, and the gratification of sensual appetites : be it so : yet none profess themselves so completely happy in these enjoyments, but that there is room left in the mind for others, if they were presented to them : nay, these, as much as they engage us, are not thought so high, but that human nature is capable even of greater. Now there have been persons in all ages, who have professed that they found satisfaction in the exercise of charity, in the love of their neighbour, in endea vouring to promote the happiness of aU they had to do vrith, and in the pursuit of what is just and right and good, as the general bent of their mind, and end of thefr Ufe ; and that domg an action of baseness or cruelty, would be as great violence to their self, as much breaking in upon their nature, as any ex ternal force. Persons of this character would add, if they might be heard, that they consider themselves as acting in the view of an infinite Being, who is in a much higher sense the object of reverence and of love, than all the world besides ; and therefore they could have no more enjoyment from a wicked action done BUTLER, SERMONS. L 146 UPON THE LOVE OF [SEEM. under his eye, than the persons to whom they are making their apology could, if aU mankind were the spectators ofit ; and that the satisfaction of approvmg themselves to his unerring judgment, to whom they thus refer aU their actions, is a more continued settled satisfaction than any this world can afford ; as also that they have, no less than others, a mind free and open to all the common innocent gratifica tions of it, such as they are. And if we go no further, does there appear any absurdity in this'? WiU any one take upon him to say, that a man cannot find his account in this general course of hfe, as much as in the most unbounded ambition, and the excesses of pleasure 1 Or that such a person has not consulted so weU for himself, for the satisfaction and peace of his own mind, as the ambitious or dissolute man ? And though the consideration, that G-od him self wdl in the end justify thefr taste, and support thefr cause, is not formally to be insisted upon here ; yet thus much comes in, that aU enjoyments whatever are much more clear and unmixed from the assurance that they vrill end well. Is it certain then that there is nothing in these pretensions to happiness 1 espe ciaUy when there are not wanting persons, who have supported themselves with satisfactions of this kind in sickness, poverty, disgrace, and in the very pangs of death ; whereas it is manifest all other enjoyments fad in these circumstances. This surely looks sus picious of having somewhat in it. Self-love methinks should be alarmed. May she not possibly pass over greater pleasures, than those she is so whoUy taken up with 1 The short of the matter is no more than this. Happiness consists in the gratification of certain affections, appetites, passions, with objects winch are XI.] OUR NEIGHBOUR. 147 by nature adapted to them. Self-love may mdeed set us on work to gratify these : but happiness or en joyment has no immediate connection with self-love, but arises from such gratification alone. Love of our neighbour is one of those affections. This, considered as a virtuous principle, is gratified by a consciousness of endeavouring to promote the good of others ; but considered as a natural affection, its gratffication con sists in the actual accomplishment of this endeavour. Now indulgence or gratification of this affection, whether in that consciousness or this accomplishment, has the same respect to interest, as indulgence of any other affection ; they equally proceed from or do not proceed from self-love, they equaUy include or equaUy exclude this principle. Thus it appears, that bene volence and the pursuit of public good hath at least as great respect to self-love and the pursuit of private good, as any other particular passions, and their respective pursuits. Neither is covetousness, whether as a temper or pursuit, any exception to this. For if by covetous ness is meant the desire and pursuit of riches for their own sake, without any regard to, or considera tion of, the uses of them ; this hath as little to do with self-love, as benevolence hath. But by this word is usuaUy meant, not such madness and total distraction of mind, but immoderate affection to and pursuit of riches as possessions in order to some further end ; namely, satisfaction, interest, or good. This there fore is not a particular affection, or particular pur suit, but it is the general principle of self-love, and the general pursuit of our own interest; for which reason, the word selfish is by every one appropriated to this temper and pursuit. Now as it is ridiculous to assert, that self-love and the love of our neigh- L a 148 UPON THE LOVE OP [SEEM. hour are the same ; so neither is it asserted, that following these different affections hath the same tendency and respect to our own interest. The com parison is not between self-love and the love of our neighbour ; between pursuit of our own interest, and the interest of others : but between the several par ticular affections in human nature towards external objects, as one part of the comparison ; and the one particular affection to the good of our neighbour, as the other part of it : and it has been shewn, that all these have the same respect to self-love and private interest. There is indeed frequently an inconsistence or interfering between self-love or private interest, and the several particular appetites, passions, affections, or the pursuits they lead to. But this competition or interfering is merely accidental ; and happens much oftener between pride, revenge, sensual grati fications, and private interest, than between private interest and benevolence. For nothing is more com mon, than to see men give themselves up to a pas sion or an affection to their known prejudice and ruin, and in direct contradiction to manifest and real interest, and the loudest caUs of self-love : whereas the seeming competitions and interfering, between benevolence and private interest, relate much more to the materials or means of enjoyment, than to en joyment itself There is often an interfering in the former, when there is none in the latter. Thus as to riches : so much money as a man gives away, so much less will remain in his possession. Here is a real interfering. But though a man cannot possibly give vrithout lessening his fortune, yet there are mul titudes might give without lessening their own en joyment ; because they may have more than they can XI.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 149 turn to any real use or advantage to themselves. Thus, the more thotight and time any one employs about the interests and good of others, he must neces sarily have less to attend his own ; but he may have so ready and large a supply of his own wants, that such thought might be really useless to himself, though of great serrice and assistance to others. The general mistake, that there is some greater in consistence between endeavouring to promote the good of another and self-interest, than between self- interest and pursuing any thing else, seems, as hath already been hinted, to arise from our notions of pro perty; and to be carried on by this property's being ' supposed to be itself our happiness or good. People are so very much taken up with this one subject, that they seem from it to have formed a general way of thinking, which they apply to other things that they have nothing to do vrith. Hence, in a confased and sUght way, it might weU be taken for granted, that another's haring no interest in an affection (i. e. his good not being the object of it), renders, as one may speak, the proprietor's interest init greater; and that if another had an interest in it, this would render his less, or occasion that such affection could not be so friendly to self-love, or conducive to private good, as an affection or pursuit which has not a regard to the good of another. This, I say, might be taken for granted, whilst it was not attended to, that the object of every particular affection is equally somewhat ex temal to ourselves ; and whether it be the good of another person, or whether it be any other extemal thing, makes no alteration with regard to its being one's own affection, and the gratification of it one's own private enjoyment. And so far as it is taken for granted, that barely haring the means and materials 150 UPON THE LOVE OF of enjoyment is what constitutes interest and hap piness ; that our interest or good consists in posses sions themselves, in haring the property of riches, houses, lands, gardens, not in the enjoyment of them; so far it wdl even more strongly be taken for granted, in the way already explained, that an affection's con ducing to the good of another, must even necessarily occasion it to conduce less to private good, if not to be positively detrimental to it. For, if property and happiness are one and the same thing, as by increasing the property of another you lessen your own property, so by promoting the happiness of another you must lessen your own happiness. But whatever occasioned the mistake, I hope it has been fully proved to be one ; as it has been proved, that there is no peculiar rivalship or competition between self-love and benevolence : that as there may be a competition between these two, so there may also between any particular affection whatever and self- love ; that every particular affection, benevolence among the rest, is subserrient to self-love by being the instrument of private enjoyment ; and that in one respect benevolence contributes more to private interest, i. e. enjoyment or satisfaction, than any other of the particular common affections, as it is in a degree its own gratification. And to all these things may be added, that religion, from whence arises our strongest obUgation to benevolence, is so far from disowning the principle of self-love, that it often addresses itself to that very principle, and always to the mind in that state when reason presides; and there can no access be had to the understanding, but by convincing men, that the course of Hfe we would persuade them to is not con trary to their interest. It may be aUowed, without XI.] OUR NEIGHBOUR. 151 any prejudice to the cause of rirtue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and misery are of all our ideas the nearest and most important to us ; that they will, nay, if you please, that they ought to pre vaU over those of order, and beauty, and harmony, and proportion, if there should ever be, as it is impossible there ever should be, any inconsistence between them : though these last too, as expressing the fitness of actions, are real as truth itself. Let it be allowed, though virtue or moral rectitude does indeed consist in affection to and pursuit of what is right and good, as such ; yet, that when we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to ourselves this or any other pursuit, tUl we are conrinced that it wiU be for our happiness, or at least not contrary to it. Common reason and humanity will have some influence upon mankind, whatever becomes of specu lations : but, so far as the interests of vfrtue depend upon the theory of it being secured from open scorn, so far its very being in the world depends upon its appearing to have no contrariety to private interest and self-love. The foregoing observations, therefore, it is hoped, may have gaiaed a little ground in favour of the precept before us ; the particular explanation of which shall be the subject of the next discourse. I wdl conclude at present, with obserring the peculiar obligation which we are under to virtue and religion, as enforced in the verses foUowing the text, in the epistle for the day, from our Saviour's coming into the world. The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on ihe armour ofl light, &c. The meaning and force of which exhortation is, that 152 UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. Christianity lays us under new obUgations to a good life, as by it the will of God is more clearly revealed, and as it affords additional motives to the practice of it, over and above those which arise out of the nature of vfrtue and vice ; I might add, as our Sariour has set us a perfect example of goodness in our own nature. Now love and charity is plainly the thing in which he hath placed his religion ; in which therefore, as we have any pretence to the name of Christians, we must place ours. He hath at once enjoined it upon us by way of command with pecuUar force ; and by his example, as having under taken the work of our salvation out of pure love and good-wUl to mankind. The endeavour to set home this example upon our minds is a very proper employment of this season, which is bringing on the festival of his birth : which as it may teach us many exceUent lessons of humdity, resignation, and obedi ence to the wdl of God ; so there is none it recom mends vrith greater authority, force, and advantage, than this of love and charity; since it was /or us men, and for our salvation, that he came down from heaven, and was incarnate, and was made man; that he might teach us our duty, and more especiaUy that he might enforce the practice of it, reform mankind, and finally bring us to that eternal salvation, of which he is the Author to all those that obey him. SEEMON xn. UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. RoM. xiii. 9. And if ihere he any other commandment, ii is briefly compre hended in ihis saying, namely, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. TTAVING already removed the prejudices against pubUc spirit, or the love of our neighbour, on the side of private interest and self-love ; I pro ceed to the particular explanation of the precept before us, by shevring. Who is our neighbour: In what sense we are required to love him as our selves : The influence such love would have upon our behaviour in life: and lastly. How this com mandment comprehends in it all others. I. The objects and due extent of this affection will be understood by attending to the nature of it, and to the nature and circumstances of mankind in this world. The love of our neighbour is the same with charity, benevolence, or good-will : it is an affection to the good and happiness of our fellow- creatures. This implies in it a disposition to pro duce happiness: and this is the simple notion of goodness, which appears so amiable wherever we meet with it. From hence it is easy to see, that the 154 UPON THE LOVE OF [SEEM. perfection of goodness consists in love to the whole imiverse. This is the perfection of Almighty God. But as man is so much limited in his capacity, as so small a part of the creation comes under his notice and influence, and as we are not used to consider things in so general a way; it is not to be thought of, that the universe should be the object of benevolence to such creatures as we are. Thus in that precept of our Saviour, Be ye perfect, even as your Father, which is in heaven, is perfect * the perfection of the dirine goodness is proposed to our imitation as it is promiscuous, and extends to the evd as well as the good ; not as it is absolutely universal, imita tion of it in this respect being plainly beyond us, The object is too vast. For this reason moral writers also have substituted a less general object for our benevolence, mankind. But this Ukevrise is an object too general, and very much out of our view. Therefore persons more practical have, instead of mankind, put our country; and made the principle of virtue, of human vfrtue, to consist in the entire uniform love of our country: and this is what we call a public spirit ; which in men of public stations is the character of a patriot. But this is speaking to the upper part of the world. Kingdoms and governments are large ; and the sphere of action of far the greatest part of mankind is much narrower than the government they live under: or however, common men do not consider thefr actions as affecting the whole community of which they are members. There plainly is wanting a less general and nearer object of benevolence for the bulk of men, than that of their country. Therefore the scripture, not being a book of theory and speculation, but a a Matt. v. 48. XIL] OUR NEIGHBOUR. 155 plain rule of life for mankind, has with the utmost possible propriety put the principle of virtue upon the love of our neighbour ; which is that part of the universe, that part of mankind, that part of our country, which comes under our immediate notice, acquaintance, and influence, and with which we have to do. This is plainly the tme account or reason, why our Sariour places the principle of virtue in the love of our neighbour ; and the account itself shews who are comprehended under that relation. II. Let us now consider in what sense we are commanded to love our neighbour as ourselves. This precept, in its first deUvery by our Saviour, is thus introduced : Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy strength ; and thy neighbour as thyself. These very different manners of expression do not lead our thoughts to the same measure or degree of love, common to both objects ; but to one, pecu Uar to each. Supposing then, which is to be sup posed, a distract meaniag and propriety in the words, as thyself; the precept we are considering wiU admit of any of these senses : that we bear the same kind of affection to our neighbour as we do to ourselves : or, that the love we bear to our neighbour should have some certain proportion or other to self- love : or, lastly, that it should bear the particular proportion oi equality, that it he in the same degree. First, The precept may be understood as requiring only, that we have the same kind of affection to our fellow-creatures as to ourselves : that, as every man has the principle of self-love, which disposes him to avoid misery, and consult his own happiness ; so we should cultivate the affection of good-will to our 156 UPON THE LOVE OF [SERM. neighbour, and that it should infiuence us to have the same kiad of regard to him. This at least must be commanded : and this vrill not only prevent our beiug injurious to him, but will also put us upon promotiag his good. There are blessings ia life, which we share in common vrith others ; peace, plenty, freedom, healthful seasons. But real benevo lence to our feUow-creatures woidd give us the notion of a common interest in a stricter sense : for in the degree we love another, his interest, his joys and sorrows, are our own. It is from self-love that we form the notion of private good, and consider it as our own : love of our neighbour would teach us thus to appropriate to ourselves his good and welfare ; to consider ourselves as having a real share in his happiness. Thus the principle of benevolence would be an advocate within our own breasts, to take care of the interests of our fellow-creatures in all the interfering and competitions which cannot but be, from the imperfection of our nature, and the state we are in. It would Ukevrise, in some measure, lessen that interfering ; and hinder men from form ing so strong a notion of private good, exclusive of the good of others, as we commonly do. Thus, as the private affection makes us in a pecuUar manner sensible of humanity, justice or injustice, when exercised towards ourselves ; love of our neighbour would give us the same kind of sensibdity in his behalf. This would be the greatest security of our uniform obedience to that most equitable rule ; Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them. All this is indeed no more than that we should have a real love to our neighbour : but then, which is to be observed, the words, as thyself, express XII.] OUR NEIGHBOUR. 157 this in the most distinct manner, and determine the precept to relate to the affection itself. The advan tage, which this principle of benevolence has over other remote considerations, is, that it is itself the temper of vfrtue ; and likewise, that it is the chief, nay, the only effectual security of our performing the several offices of kindness we owe to our fellow- creatures. When from distant considerations men resolve upon any thing to which they have no liking, or perhaps an averseness, they are perpetuaUy find ing out evasions and excuses ; which need never be wanting, if people look for them : and they equivo cate vrith themselves in the plainest cases in the world. This may be in respect to single determinate acts of virtue : but it comes in much more, where the obUgation is to a general course of behaviour; and most of aU, if it be such as cannot be reduced to fixed determinate rules. This observation may ac count for the diversity of the expression, in that known passage of the prophet Micah : to do justly, and to love mercy. A man's heart must be formed to humanity and benevolence, he must love mercy, otherwise he wiU not act mercifuUy in any settled course of behaviour. As consideration of the future sanctions of religion is our only security of perse vering in our duty, in cases of great temptation : so to get our heart and temper formed to a love and liking of what is good, is absolutely necessary in order to our behaving rightly in the famdiar and. daily intercourses amongst mankind. Secondly, The precept before us may be under stood to require, that we love our neighbour in some certain proportion or other, accordi'ng as we love ourselves. And indeed a man's character cannot be determined by the love he bears to his neighbour, 158 UPON THE LOVE OP [SERM. considered absolutely : but the proportion which this bears to self-love, whether it be attended to or not, is the chief thing which forms the character, and influences the actions. For, as the form of the body is a composition of various parts ; so Ukevrise our inward structure is not simple or uniform, but a composition of various passions, appetites, affections, together vrith rationality; including in this last both the discernment of what is right, and a disposition to regulate ourselves by it. There is greater variety of parts in what we call a character, than there are features in a face : and the morality of that is no more determined by one part, than the beauty op deformity of this is by one single feature : each is to be judged of by aU the parts or features, not taken singly, but together. In the inward frame the various passions, appetites, affections, stand in differ ent respects to each other. The principles in our mind may be contradictory, or checks and aUays only, or incentives and assistants to each other. And principles, which in thefr nature have no kind of contrariety or affinity, may yet accidentally be each other's allays or incentives. From hence it comes to pass, that though we were able to look into the inward contexture of the heart, and see with the greatest exactness in what degree any one principle is in a particular man; we could not from thence determine, how far that principle would go towards forming the character, or what influence it would have upon the actions, unless we could likewise discern what other principles prevailed in him, and see the proportion which that one bears to the others. Thus, though two men should have the affection of compassion in the same degree exactly; yet one may have the principle of resent- XII.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 159 ment or of ambition so strong in him, as to prevail over that of compassion, and prevent its having any influence upon his actions; so that he may deserve the character of an hard or cruel man : whereas the other having compassion in just the same degree only, yet having resentment or ambition in a lower degree, his compassion may prevail over them, so as to influence his actions, and to denominate his temper compassionate. So that, how strange soever it may appear to people who do not attend to the thing, yet it is qiute manifest, that, when we say one mau is more resenting or compassionate than another, this does not necessarUy imply that one has the principle of resentment or of compassion stronger than the other. For if the proportion, which resentment or compassion bears to other inward principles, is greater in one than in the other ; this is itself sufficient to denominate one more resenting or com passionate than the other. Further, the whole system, as I may speak, of affections, (including rationality,) which constitute the heart, as this word is used in scripture and on moral subjects, are each and all of them stronger in some than in others. Now the proportion which the two general affections, benevolence and self-love, bear to each other, according to this interpretation of the text, denominates men's character as to virtue. Sup pose then one man to have the principle of benevo lence in an higher degree than another : it wiU not follow from hence, that his general temper or character or actions vrill be more benevolent than the other's. For he may have self-love in such a degree as quite to prevail over benevolence ; so that it may have no influence at all upon his actions ; whereas benevolence in the other person, though in a 160 UPON THE LOVE OF [SERM. lower degree, may yet be the strongest principle in his heart ; and strong enough to be the guide of his actions, so as to denominate him a good and virtuous man. The case is here as in scales : it is not one weight, considered in itself, which determines whether the scale shaU ascend or descend; but this depends upon the proportion which that one weight hath to the other. It being thus manifest that the influence which benevolence has upon our actions, and how far it goes towards forming our character, is not de termined by the degree itself of this principle in our mind; but by the proportion it has to self-love and other principles : a comparison also being made in the text between self-love and the love of our neigh bour ; these joint considerations afforded sufficient occasion for treating here of that proportion : it plainly is impHed in the precept, though it should be questioned, whether it be the exact meaning of the words, as thyself. Love of our neighbour then must bear some pro portion to self-love, and vfrtue to be sure consists in the due proportion. What this due proportion is, whether as a principle in the mind, or as exerted in actions, can be judged of only from our nature and condition in this world. Of the degree in which affections and the principles of action, considered in themselves, prevail, we have no measure : let us then proceed to the course of behaviour, the actions they produce. Both our nature and condition require, that each particular man should make particular provision for himself: and the inquiry, what proportion benevo lence should have to self-love, when brought down to practice, will be, what is a competent care and XII.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 161 provision for ourselves. And how certain soever it be, that each man must determine this for himself; and how ridiculous soever it would be, for any to attempt to determine it for another : yet it is to be observed, that the proportion is real ; and that a competent provision has a bound ; and that it cannot be aU which we can possibly get and keep within our grasp, without legal injustice. Mankind almost universally bring in vanity, supplies for what is called a life of pleasure, covetousness, or imaginary notions of superiority over others, to deternaine this question : but every one who desires to act a proper part in society, would do weU to consider, how far any of them come in to determine it, in the way of moral consideration. All that can be said is, sup posing, what, as the world goes, is so much to be supposed that it is scarce to be mentioned, that persons do not neglect what they ready owe to themselves ; the more of their care and thought, and of thefr fortune, they employ in doing good to thefr feUow-creatures, the nearer they come up to the law of perfection. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. Thirdly, If the words, as thyself, were to be under stood of an equality of affection ; it would not be attended with those consequences, which perhaps may be thought to follow from it. Suppose a person to have the same settled regard to others as to himself; that in every deliberate scheme or pursuit he took their interest into the account in the same degree as his own, so far as an equality of affection would produce this : yet he would in fact, and ought to be, much more taken up and employed about himself, and his own concerns, than about others, and their interests. For, besides the one common affection. BUTLER, SEEMONS. M 162 UPON THE LOVE OP [SERM. toward himself and his neighbour, he would have several other particular affections, passions, appetites, which he could not possibly feel in common both for himself and others : now these sensations themselves very much employ us ; and have perhaps as great influence as self-love. So far indeed as self-love, and cool reflection upon what is for our interest, would set us on work to gain a supply of our own several wants ; so far the love of our neighbour would make us do the same for him : but the degree in which we are put upon seeking and making use of the means of gratification, by the feeling of those affections, appetites, and passions, must necessarily be peculiar to ourselves. That there are particular passions, (suppose shame, resentment,) which men seem to have, and feel in common, both for themselves and others, makes no alteration in respect to those passions and appetites which cannot possibly be thus felt in common. From hence (and perhaps more things of the like kind might be mentioned) it follows, that though there were an equality of affection to both, yet regards to ourselves would be more prevalent than attention to the concerns of others. And from moral considerations it ought to be so, supposing stiU the equality of affection commanded : because we are in a peculiar maimer, as I may speak, intrusted with ourselves ; and therefore care of our own interests, as weU as of our conduct, particularly belongs to us. To these things must be added, that moral obhga tions can extend no further than to natural possi bilities. Now we have a perception of our own interests, like consciousness of our own existence, Avhich we always carry about with us ; and which, xn.] OUR NEIGHBOUR. 163 in its continuation, kind, and degree, seems im possible to be felt in respect to the interests of others. From aU these things it fully appears, that though W'C were to love our neighbour in the same degree as we love ourselves, so far as this is possible ; yet the care of ourselves, of the individual, would not be neglected ; the apprehended danger of which seems to be the only objection against understanding the precept in this strict sense. III. The general temper of mind which the due love of our neighbour would form us to, and the iofluence it would have upon our behariour in life, is now to be considered. The temper and behariour of charity is explained at large, in that known passage of St. Paul ^ : Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity en vieth not, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, thinketh no evil, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things. As to the meaning of the expressions, seeketh not her own, thinketh no evil, believeth all things ; however those expressions may be explained away, this meekness, and in some degree easiness of temper, readiness to forego our right for the sake of peace, as well as in the way of compassion, freedom from mistrust, and disposition to believe well of our neighbour, this general temper, I say, accompanies, and is plainly the effect of love and good- wdl. And, though such is the world in which we live, that experience and knowledge of it not only may, but must beget in us greater regard to ourselves, and doubtfulness of the characters of others, than is ^ I Cor. xiii. M t 164 UPON THE LOVE OF natural to mankind ; yet these ought not to be carried further than the nature and course of thiags make necessary. It is still true, even in the present state of things, bad as it is, that a real good man had rather be deceived, than he suspicious; had rather forego his known right, than run the venture of doing even a hard thing. This is the general temper of that charity, of which the apostle asserts, that if he had it not, giving his body to be burned would avail him nothing ; and which he says shall never flail. The happy influence of this temper extends to every different relation and cfrcumstance in human Hfe. It plainly renders a man better, more to be desired, as to aU the respects and relations we can stand in to each other. The benevolent man is dis posed to make use of all extemal advantages in such a manner as shall contribute to the good of others, as well as to his own satisfaction. His own satis faction consists in this. He wdl be easy and kind to his dependents, compassionate to the poor and dis tressed, friendly to all with whom he has to do. This includes the good neighbour, parent, master, magistrate : and such a behariour would plaioly make dependence, inferiority, and even serritude, easy. So that a good or charitable man of superior rank in vrisdom, fortune, authoritv, is a common blessing to the place he Uves in : happiness grows under his influence. This good principle in inferiors would discover itself in paying respect, gratitude, obedience, as due. It were therefore methinks one just way of trying one's own character, to ask our selves, am I in reality a better master or servant, a better friend, a better neighbour, than such and such persons ; whom, perhaps, I may think not to XII.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 165 deserve the character of virtue and religion so much as mvself l And as to the spirit of party, which unhappily prevails amongst mankind, whatever are the dis tinctions which serve for a supply to it, some or other of which have obtained in all ages and countries : one who is thus friendly to his kind will immediately make due allowances for it, as what cannot but be amongst such creatures as men, in such a world as this. And as wrath and fury and overbearing upon these occasions proceed, as I may speak, from men's feeling only on their own side : so a common feeling, for others as weU as for ourselves, would render us sensible to this truth, which it is strange can have so little uifluence ; that we our selves differ from othei-s, just as much as they do from us. I put the matter in this way, because it can scarce be expected that the generality of men should see, that those things which are made the occasions of dissension and fomenting the party-spirit, are really nothing at aU : but it may be expected from aU people, how much soever they are in earnest about their respective peculiarities, that humanity, and common good- wdl to their fellow -creatures should moderate and restrain that wretched spirit. This good temper of charity like .vise would pre vent strife and enmity arisiag from other occasions : it would prevent our giving just cause of offence, and our taking it without cause. And in cases of real injury, a good man wiU make all the allowances which are to be made ; and, without any attempts of retaliation, he wiU only consult his own and other men's security for the future, against injustice and wrong. IV. I proceed to consider, lastly, what is affirmed 166 UPON THE LOVE OF [SERM. of the precept now explained, that it comprehends iu it aU others ; i. e. that to love our neighbour as ourselves includes in it all virtues. Now the way in which every maxim of conduct, or general speculative assertion, when it is to be explained at large, should be treated, is, to shew what are the particular truths which were designed to be comprehended under such a general observation, how far it is strictly true ; and then the limitations, restrictions, and exceptions, if there be exceptions, with which it is to be understood. But it is only the former of these ; namely, how far the assertion in the text holds, and the ground of the preeminence assigned to the precept of it, which in strictness comes into our present consideration. However, in almost every thing that is said, there is somewhat to be understood beyond what is expHcitly laid down, and which we of course supply; somewhat, I mean, which would not be commonly caUed a restriction, or limitation. Thus, when be nevolence is said to be the sum of virtue, it is' not spoken of as a blind propension, but as a principle in reasonable creatures, and so to be directed by their reason : for reason and reflection comes into our notion of a moral agent. And that vrill lead us to consider distant^ consequences, as weU as the im mediate tendency of an action : it wdl teach us, that the care of some persons, suppose chddren and families, is particularly committed to our charge by Nature and Providence ; as also that there are other cfrcumstances, suppose friendship or former obliga tions, which require that we do good to some, prefer ably to others. Reason, considered merely as sub servient to benevolence, as assisting to produce the greatest good, will teach us to have particular regard XII.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 167 to these relations and circumstances ; because it is plainly for the good of the world that they should be regarded. And as there are numberless cases, in which, notwithstanding appearances, we are not competent judges, whether a particular action will upon the whole do good or harm ; reason in the same way wiU teach us to be cautious how we act in these cases of uncertainty. It will suggest to our consideration, which is the safer side ; how liable we are to be led wrong by passion and private interest ; and what regard is due to laws, and the judgment of mankind. All these things must come into con sideration, were it only in order to determine which way of acting is likely to produce the greatest good. Thus, upon supposition that it were in the strictest sense true, without Umitation, that benevolence includes in it all vfrtues ; yet reason must come in as its guide and director, in order to attain its own end, the end of benevolence, the greatest public good. Eeason then being thus included, let us now consider the truth of the assertion itself Ffrst, It is manifest that nothing can be of conse- i quence to mankind or any creature, but happiness. This then is all which any person can, in strictness of speaking, be said to have a right to. We can therefore owe no man any thirig, but only to further and promote his happiness, according to our abdities. And therefore a disposition and endeavour to do good to aU with whom we have to do, in the degree and manner which the different relations we stand in to them reqmre, is a discharge of all the obligations we are under to them. As human nature is not one simple uniform thing, but a composition of various parts, body, spfrit, appe tites, particular passions, and affections ; for each of 168 UPON THE LOVE OF [SERM. which reasonable self-love would lead men to have due regard, and make suitable provision : so society con sists of various parts, to which we stand in different respects and relations ; and just benevolence would as surely lead us to have due regard to each of these, and behave as the respective relations require. Eea- sonable good-will, and right behaviour towards our fellow-creatures, are in a manner the same : only that the former expresseth the principle as it is in the mind ; the latter, the principle as it were become external, i.e. exerted in actions. And so far as temperance, sobriety, and moderation in sensual pleasures, and the contrary vices, have any respect to our fellow-creatures, any infiuence upon their quiet, welfare, and happiness ; as they always have a real, and often a near influence upon it; so far it is manifest those virtues may be produced by the love of our neighbour, and that the contrary vices would be prevented by it. Indeed if men's regard to themselves will not restrain them from excess ; it may be thought Httle probable, that their love to others vrill be sufficient : but the reason is, that their love to others is not, any more than their regard to themselves, just, and in its due degree. There are however manifest instances of persons kept sober and temperate from regard to their affairs, and the welfare of those who depend upon them. And it is obrious to every one, that habitual excess, a dissolute course of life, implies a general neglect of the duties we owe towards our friends, our famiUes, and our country. From hence it is manifest that the common virtues, and the common vices of mankind, may be traced up to benevolence, or the want of it. And this entitles the precept. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, to the preeminence given to it ; and is a justification XII.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 169 of the apostle's assertion, that all other coramand ments are comprehended in it ; whatever cautions and restrictions ° there are, which might require to be considered, if we were to state particularly and at length, what is virtue and right behavioiir in man kind. But, Secondly, It might be added, that in a higher and " For instance : as we are not competent judges, what is upon the whole for tbe good of the world, there may he other immediate ends appointed us to pursue, besides that one of doing good, or producing happiness. Though the good of the creation he the only end of the Author of it, yet he may have laid us under particular obligations, which we ma}- discern and feel ourselves under, quite distinct from a perception, that the observance or violation of them is for the hap piness or misery of our fellow-creatures. And this is in fact the case. For there are certain dispositions of mind, and certain actions, which are in themselves approved or disapproved by mankind, abstracted from the consideration of their tendency to the happiness or misery of the world ; approved or disapproved by reflection, by that princi ple within, which is the guide of life, the judge of right and wrong. Numberless instances of this kind might be mentioned. There are pieces of treachery, which in themselves appear base and detestable to every one. There are actions, which perhaps can scarce have any other general name given them than indecencies, which yet are odi ous and shocking to human nature. There is such a thing as mean ness, a little mind ; which, as it is quite distinct from incapacity, so it raises a dislike and disapprobation quite different from that con tempt, which men are too apt to have, of mere folly. On the other hand ; what we call greatness of mind is the object of another sort of approbation, than superior understanding. Fidelity, honour, strict justice, are themselves approved in the highest degree, abstracted from the consideration of their tendency. Now, whether it be thought that each of these are connected with benevolence in our nature, and so may be considered as the same thing with it ; or whether some of them be thought an inferior kind of virtues and vices, somewhat like natural beauties and deformities ; or lastly, plain exceptions to the general rule ; thus much however is certain, that the things now instanced in, and numberless others, are approved or disapproved by manltind in general, in quite another view than as conducive to the happiness or misery of the world. 170 UPON THE LOVE OP [SERM. more general way of consideration, leaving out the particular nature of creatures, and the particular circumstances in which they are placed, benevolence seems in the strictest sense to include in it all that is good and worthy ; all that is good, which we have any distinct particular notion of. We have no clear con ception of any positive moral attribute in the supreme Being, but what may be resolved up into goodness. And, if we consider a reasonable creature or moral agent, without regard to the particular relations and circumstances in which he is placed ; we cannot con ceive any thing else to come in towards determining whether he is to be ranked in an higher or lower class of virtuous beings, but the higher or lower degree in which that principle, and what is manifestly connected with it, prevail in him. That which we more strictly call piety, or the love of God, and which is an essential part of a right tem per, some may perhaps imagine no way connected with benevolence : yet surely they must be connected, if there be indeed in being an object infinitely good. Human nature is so constituted, that every good af fection implies the love of itself; i. e. becomes the object of a new affection in the same person. Thus,, to be righteous, implies in it the love of righteous ness ; to be benevolent, the love of benevolence ; to be good, the love of goodness ; whether this righteous ness, benevolence, or goodness, be viewed as in our own mind, or in another's : and the love of God as a being perfectly good, is the love of perfect goodness contemplated in a being or person. Thus morality and religion, virtue and piety, wiU at last necessarily coincide, run up into one and the same point, and love will be in all senses the end of the command ment. XII.J OUR NEIGHBOUR. 171 0 Ahnighty God, inspire us roith this divine prin ciple ; kill in us all the seeds of envy and ill- will ; and help us, by cultivating within ourselves the love of our neighbour, to -improve in the love ofl thee. Thou hast placed us in various ki-ii- dreds, friendships, and relations, as the school of discipline for our affections: help vs, by the due exercise of them, to improve to perfection ; till all piartial affection be lost in that entire universal one, and thou, 0 God, shalt be all in aU. SERMON xm, XIY. UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. Matthew xxii. 37. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all ihy heart, and all ihy soul, and wiih all ihy mind. TT^VERYBODY knows, you therefore need only -*-^ just be put in mind, that there is such a thing, as having so great horror of one extreme, as to run insensibly and of course into the contrary; and that a doctrine's having been a shelter for en thusiasm, or made to serve the purposes of supersti tion, is no proof of the falsity of it : truth or right being somewhat real in itself, and so not to be judged of by its liableness to abuse, or by its supposed distance from or nearness to error. It may be suf ficient to have mentioned this- in general, without taking notice of the particular extravagancies, which have been vented under the pretence or endeavour of explaining the love of God ; or how manifestly we are got into the contrary extreme, under the notion of a reasonable religion ; so very reasonable, as to have nothing to do with the heart and affections, if these words signify any thing but the faculty by which we discern speculative truth. By the love of God, I would understand all these UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 173 regards, all those affecTions of mind which are due immediately to him fr-om such a creature as man, and which rest in him as their end. As this does not include servile fear ; so neither wUl any other regards. how reasonable soever, which respect any thing out of or besides the pieriection of the divine nature, come into consideration here. But all fear is not excluded, because his displeasure is itself the natural proper object of fear. Eeverence, ambition of his love and approbation, deUght in the hope or con sciousness of it, come Ukewise into this definition of the love of God : because he is the natui-al object of aU those affections or movements of mind, as ready as he is the object of the affection, which is in the strictest sense caUed love ; and aU of them equaUy rest in him, as their end. And they may all be understood to be implied ia these words of our Sariour, without putting any force upon them : for he is speaking of the love of God and our neighbour, as containing the whole of piety and virtue. It is plain that the nature of man is so constituted, as to feel certain affections upon the sight or contem plation of certain objects. Now the very notion of i affection impUes resting ia its object as an end. And the particular affection to good characters, reverence and moral love of them, is natural to aU those who have any degree of real goodness in themselves. This wdl be dlustrated by the description of a perfect character in a creature ; and by considering the man ner, in which a good man in his presence would be affected towards such a character. He would of course feel the affections of love, reverence, desire of his approbation, delight in the hope or consciousness ofit. And surely aU this is appUcable, and may be brought up to that Being, who is infinitely more 174 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. [SERM. than an adequate object of all those affections ; whom we are commanded to love with all our heart, wiih all our soul, and with all our mind. And of these regards towards Almighty God, some are more par ticularly suitable to and becoming so imperfect a creature as man, in this mortal state we are passing through ; and some of them, and perhaps other exer cises of the mind, will be the employment and hap piness of good men in a state of perfection. This is a general riew of what the following dis course wiU contain. And it is manifest the subject is a real one : there is nothing in it enthusiastical or unreasonable. And if it be indeed at all a subject, it is one of the utmost importance. As mankind have a faculty by which they discem speculative truth ; so we have various affections to wards external objects. Understanding and temper, reason and affection, are as distiact ideas, as reason and hunger : and one would think could no more be confounded. It is by reason that we get the ideas of several objects of our affections : but in these cases reason and affection are no more the same, than sight of a particular object, and the pleasure or uneasiness consequent thereupon, are the same. Now, as reason tends to and rests in the discernment of truth, the object of it ; so the very nature of affection consists in tending towards, and resting in, its objects as an end. We do indeed often in common language say, that things are loved, desired, esteemed, not for them selves, but for somewhat further, somewhat out of and beyond them : yet, in these cases, whoever will attend, wiU see, that these things are not in reahty the objects of the affections, i. e. are not loved, de sired, esteemed, but the somewhat further and beyond them. If we have no affections wbich rest in what XIII.j UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 175 are called their objects, then what is called affection, love, desire, hope, in human nature, is only an un easiness in being at rest ; an unquiet disposition to action, pu-ogress, pursuit, without end or mean ing. But if there be any such thing as delight in the company of one person, rather than of another ; whether in the way of friendship, or mirth and en tertainment, it is all one, if it be without respect to fortune, honour, or increasing our stores of know ledge, or anv thing beyond the present time ; here is an instance of an aftection absolutel}- resting in its object as its end, and being gratified in the same way as the appetite of hunger is satisfied vrith food. Yet nothing is more common than to hear it asked, what advantage a man hath in such a cotu'se, suppose of study, particular friendships, or in any other ; nothing, I say, is more common than to hear such a question put in a way which supposes no gain, advantage, or interest, but as a means to somewhat further : and if so, then there is no such thing at all as real interest, gain, or advantage. This is the same ab surdity with respect to life, as an infinite series of effects without a cause is in speculation. The gain, advantage, or interest, consists in the delight itself, arising from such" a faculty's having its object: neither is there any such thing as happiaess or en- 1 joyment, but what arises from hence. The pleasures of hope and of reflection are not exceptions : the former being only this happiaess anticipated ; the latter, the same happiness enjoyed over again after its time. And even the general expectation of future happiaess can afford satisfaction, only as it is a present object to the principle of self-love. It was doubtless intended, that Hfe should be very much a pursuit to the gross of mankind. But this is Tl 176 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. [SEEM. carried so much further than is reasonable, that what gives immediate satisfaction, i.e. our present interest, is scarce considered as our interest at all. It is in ventions wbich have only a remote tendency towards enjoyment, perhaps but a remote tendency towards gaining the means only of enjoyment, which are chiefly spoken of as useful to the world. And though this way of thinking were just with respect to the imperfect state we are now in, where we know so little of satisfaction without satiety ; yet it must be guarded against, when we are considering the happi ness of a state of perfection; which happiness being enjoyment and not hope, must necessardy consist in this, that our affections have their objects, and rest in those objects as an end, i. e. be satisfied with them. This will further appear in the sequel of this discourse. Of the several affections, or inward sensations, which particular objects excite in man, there are some, the having of which implies the love of them, when they are reflected upon *. This cannot be said of all our affections, principles, and motives of action. It were ridiculous to assert, that a man upon reflec tion hath the same kind of approbation of the appetite of hunger, or the passion of fear, as he hath of good will to his fellow-creatures. To be a just, a good, a righteous man, plainly carries with it a peculiar affection to or love of justice, goodness, righteousness, when these principles are the objects of contemplation. a St. Austin observes. Amor ipse ordinate amandus est, quo bene amatur quod amandum est, ut sit in nobis virtus qua vivitur bene. i. e. The affection which we rightly have for what is lovely, must ordi nate justly, in due manner and proportion, become the object of a ne-w affection, or be itself beloved, in order to our being endued with that ¦virtue which is the principle of a good life. Civ. Dei, 1. xv. c. 22. xm.] UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 177 Now if a man approves of, or hath an affection tu, any principle in and for itself, incidental things allowed for, it wiU be the same whether he views it in his own mind, or in another ; in himself, or in his neighbour. This is the account of our apiprobation of, our moral love and affection to good characters ; which cannot but be in those who have any degrees of real goodness in themselves, and who discem and take notice of the same principle in others. From ob.servation of what passes within ourselves, our own actions, and the behariour of others, the mind may carry on its reflections as far as it pleases ; much beyond what we experience in ourselves, or discem in our feUow-creatures. It may go on, and consider goodness as become an uniform continued jjrinciple of action, as conducted by reason, and form ing a temper and character absolutely good and perfect, which is in a higher sense exceUent, and proportionably the object of love and approbation. Let us then supjpose a creature perfect according to his created nature : let his form be human, and his capadties no more than equal to those of the chief of men : goodness shaU be his proper character ; vrith wisdom to direc-t it, and power within some certain determined sphere of action to exert it : but goodness must be the simple actuating principle vrithin him ; this being the moral quality which is amiable, or the immediate object of love as distinc-t from other affec-tions of apj)robation. Here then is a finite ob ject for our mind to tend towards, to exercise itself upon : a creature, perfect according to his capacity, fixed, steady, equally unmoved by weak pity or more weak fury and resentment ; forming the justest scheme of conduct ; going on undisturbed in the execution of it, through the several methods of BUTLEE, SEEMONS. N 178 UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. [SEEM. severity and reward, towards his end, namely, the general happiness of aU with whom he hath to do, as in itself right and valuable. This character, though uniform in itself, in its principle, yet exerting itself in different ways, or considered in different views, may by its appearing variety move different affections. Thus, the severity of justice would not affect us in the same way as an act of mercy : the adventitious qualities of wisdom and power may be considered in themselves : and even the strength of mind, which this immovable goodness supposes, may likewise be viewed as an object of contemplation, distinct from the goodness itself Superior excellence of any kind, as well as superior wisdom and power, is the object of awe and reverence to all creatures, whatever their moral character be : but so far as creatures of the lowest rank were good, so far the view of this character, as simply good, must appear amiable to them, be the object of, or beget love. Further, sup pose we were conscious, that this superior person so far approved of us, that we had nothing servilely to fear from him; that he was reaUy our friend, and kind and good to us in particular, as he had occasionally intercourse vrith us : we must be other creatures than we are, or we could not but feel the same kind of satisfaction and enjoyment (whatever would be the degree of it) from this higher acquaint ance and friendship, as we feel from common ones; the intercourse being real, and the persons equally present, in both cases. We should have a more ardent desire to be approved by his better judgment, and a satisfaction in that approbation of the same sort with what would be felt in respect to common persons, or be wrought in us by their presence. Let us now raise the character, and suppose this xiil] upon the LOVE OF GOD. 179 creature, for we are stiU going on with the suppo sition of a creature, our proper guardian and governor ; that we were in a progress of being towards somewhat further; and that his scheme of government was too vast for our capacities to comprehend : remembering stdl that he is perfectly good, and our friend as well as our governor. Wisdom, power, goodness, acci dentally viewed anywhere, would inspire reverence, awe, love : and as these affections would be raised in higher or lower degrees, in proportion as we had occasionally more or less intercourse with the creature endued with those qualities; so this further con sideration and knowledge, that he was our proper guardian and governor, would much more bring these objects and qualities home to ourselves ; teach us they had a greater respect to us in particular, that we had an higher interest in that wisdom and power and goodness. We should, with joy, gratitude, re verence, love, trust, and dependence, appropriate the character, as what we had a right in ; and make our boast in such our relation to it. And the conclusion of the whole would be, that we should refer ourselves implicitly to him, and cast ourselves entirely upon him. As the whole attention of life should be to obey his commands ; so the highest enjoyment of it must arise from the contemplation of this character, and our relation to it, from a consciousness of his favour and approbation, and from the exercise of those affections towards him which could not but be raised from his presence. A Being who hath these attributes, who stands in this relation, and is thus sensibly present to the mind, must necessarily be the object of these affections : there is as real a corre spondence between them, as between the lowest appetite of sense and its object. N 2 180 UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. [SERM. That this Being is not a creature, but the Almighty God ; that he is of infinite power and wisdom and goodness, does not render him less the object of re verence and love, than he would be if he had those attributes only in a limited degree. The Being who made us, and upon whom we entirely depend, is the object of some regards. He hath given us certain affections of mind, which correspond to wisdom, power, goodness ; i. e. which are raised upon riew of those qualities. If then he be really wise, power ful, good ; he is the natural object of those affec tions, which he hath endued us with, and which correspond to those attributes. That he is infinite in power, perfect in wisdom and goodness, makes no alteration, but only that he is the object of those affections raised to the highest pitch. He is not indeed to be discerned by any of our senses. / go forward, hut he is not there ; and backward, but I cannot per ceive him : on the left hand where he doth v)ork, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him. 0 that I knew where I might flnd him! that I might come even to his seat^ ! But is he then afar off"? does he not fill heaven and earth vrith his presence 1 The presence of our feUow- creatures affects our senses, and our senses give us the knowledge of their presence ; which hath different kinds of influence upon us ; love, joy, sorrow, re straint, encouragement, reverence. However this in fluence is not immediately from our senses, but from that knowledge. Thus suppose a person neither to see nor hear another, not to know by any of his senses, but yet certainly to know, that another was with him ; this knowledge might, and in many cases would, have one or more ofthe effects before men tioned. It is therefore not only reasonable, but also ^ Job xxii. XIII.j UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 181 natural, to be affected with a presence, though it be not the object of our senses : whether it be, or be not, is merely an accidental circumstance, which needs not come into consideration : it is the certainty that he is with us, and we with him, which hath the influence. We consider persons then as present, not only when they are within reach of our senses, but also when we are assured by any other means that they are within such a nearness ; nay, if they are not, we can recaU them to our mind, and be moved to wards them as present : and must He, who is so much more intimately with us, that in him we live and move and have our being, be thought too distant to be the object of our affections ? We own and feel the force of amiable and worthy qualities in our fellow- creatures : and can we be insensible to the contem plation of perfect goodness 1 Do we reverence the shadows of greatness here below, are we solicitous about honour and esteem and the opinion of the world : and shaU we not feel the same with respect to him, whose are wisdom and power in their ori ginal, who is the God of judgment hy whom actions are weighed f Thus love, reverence, desire of esteem, every faculty, every affection, tends towards, and is employed about its respective object in common cases : and must the exercise of them be suspended vrith regard to him alone, who is an object, an in finitely more than adequate object, to our most ex alted faculties ; him, of whom, and through whom, and to whom are all things f As we cannot remove from this earth, or change our general business on it, so neither can we alter our real nature. Therefore no exercise ofthe mind can be recommended, but only the exercise of those faculties you are conscious of Eeligion does not 182 UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. [SEEM. demand new affections, but only claims the direction of those you already have, those affections you daily feel; though unhappdy confined to objects, not alto gether unsuitable, but altogether unequal to them. We only represent to you the higher, the adequate objects of those very faculties and affections. Let the man of ambition go on stiff to consider disgrace as the greatest evil ; honour, as his chief good. But disgrace, in whose estimation 1 Honour, in whose judgment ? This is the only question. If shame, and delight in esteem, be spoken of as real, as any settled ground of pain or pleasure ; both these must be in proportion to the supposed wisdom and worth of him, by whom we are contemned or es teemed. Must it then be thought enthusiastical to speak of a sensibdity pf this sort, which shall have respect to an unerring judgment, to infinite wisdom ; when we are assured this unerring judgment, this infinite wisdom, does observe upon our actions 1 It is the same with respect to the love of God in the strictest and most confined sense. We only offer and represent the highest object of an affection, sup posed already in your mind. Some degree of good ness must be previously supposed : this always im plies the love of itself, an affection to goodness : the highest, the adequate object of this affection, is perfect goodness ; which therefore we are to love with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our strength. " Must we then, forgetting our own interest, as it were go out of ourselves, and love God for his own sake 1 " No more forget your own interest, no more go out of yourselves, than when you prefer one place, one prospect, the conversation of one man to that of another. Does not every affection necessarily imply, that the object of it be itself loved ? If it be not, it XIII.J UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 183 is not the object of the affection. You may and ought if you can, but it is a great mistake to think you can love or fear or hate any thing, from con sideration that such love or fear or hatred may be a means of obtaining good or avoiding evil. But the question, whether we ought to love God for his sake or for our own, being a mere mistake in language ; the real question, which this is mistaken for, wUl, I sup pose, be answered by observing, that the goodness of God already exercised towards us, our present depend ence upon him, and our expectation of future benefits, ought, and have a natural tendency, to beget in us the affection of gratitude, and greater love towards him, than the same goodness exercised towards others : were it only for this reason, that every affection is moved in proportion to the sense we have of tbe object ofit; and we cannot but have a more lively sense of goodness, when exercised towards ourselves, than when exercised towards others. I added ex pectation of future benefits, because the ground of that expectation is present goodness. Thus Almighty God is the natural object of the several affections, love, reverence, fear, desire of ap probation. For though he is simply one, yet we cannot but consider him in partial and different views. He is in himself one uniform Being, and for ever the same without variableness or shadow of turning : but his infinite greatness, his goodness, his wisdom, are different objects to our mind. To which is to be added, that from the changes in our own characters, together with his unchangeableness, we cannot but consider ourselves as more or less the objects of his approbation, and really be so. For if he approves Avhat is good, he cannot, merely from the unchangeableness of his nature, approve what is 184 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD, [SEEM. evd. Hence must arise more various movements of mind, more different kinds of affections. And this greater variety also is just and reasonable in such creatures as we are, though it respects a Being simply one, good and perfect. As some of these affections are most particularly suitable to so im perfect a creature as man, in this mortal state we are passing through ; so there may be other exer cises of mind, or some of these in higher degrees, our employment and happiness in a state of per fection. SEEMON XIV. CONSIDER then our ignorance, the imperfection of our nature, our virtue, and our condition in this world, with respect to an infinitely good and just Being, our Creator and Govemor ; and you wfll see what reHgious affections of mind are most par ticularly suitable to this mortal state we are passing through. Though we are not affected vrith any thing so strongly, as what we discern with our senses ; and though our nature and condition require, that we be much taken up about sensible things ; yet our reason convinces us that God is present with us, and we see and feel the effects of his goodness : he is therefore the object of some regards. The imper fection of our virtue, joined with the consideration of his absolute rectitude or holiness, will scarce permit that perfection of love, which entfrely casts ¦ out all XIV. J UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 185 fear : yet goodness is the object of love to all creatures who have any degree of it themselves ; and consciousness of a real endeavour to approve ourselves to him, joined with the consideration of his goodness, as it quite excludes servile dread and horror, so it is plainly a reasonable ground for hope of his favour. Neither fear nor hope nor love then are excluded : and one or another of these vrill pre vail, according to the different views we have of God ; and ought to prevail, according to the changes we find in our own character. There is a temper of mind made up of, or which foUows from aU three, fear, hope, love; namely, resignation to the dirine wdl, which is the general temper belongmg to this state ; which ought to be the habitual frame of our mind and heart, and to be exercised at proper seasons more distinctly, in acts of devotion. Eesignation to the will of God is the whole of piety : it includes in it all that is good, and is a source of the most settled quiet and composure of mind. There is the general principle of submission in our nature. Man is not so constituted as to desire things, and be uneasy in the want of them, in proportion to thefr known value : many other consider ations come in to determine the degrees of desire ; particularly whether the advantage we take a riew of be within the sphere of our rank. Who ever felt uneasiness, upon observing any of the advantages brute creatures have over us 1 And yet it is plain they have several. It is the same vrith respect to advantages belonging to creatures of a superior order. Thus, though we see a thing to be highly valuable, yet that it does not belong to our condition of being, is sufficient to suspend our desfres after it, to make us rest satisfied without such advantage. 186 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. [SEEM. Now there is just the same reason for quiet resigna tion in the want of every thing equally unattainable, and out of our reach in particular, though others of our species be possessed of it. AU this may be applied to the whole of life ; to positive incon veniences as well as wants ; not indeed to the sensations of pain and sorrow, but to all the uneasi nesses of reflection, murmuring, and discontent. Thus is human nature formed to compUance, yielding, submission of temper. We find the principles of it within us ; and every one exercises it towards some objects or other ; i. e. feels it with regard to some persons, and some circumstances. Now this is an excellent foundation of a reasonable and religious resignation. Nature teaches and inclines us to take up with our lot : the consideration, that the course of things is unalterable, hath a tendency to quiet the mind under it, to beget a submission of temper to it. But when we can add, that this unalterable course is appointed and continued by infinite wisdom and goodness ; how absolute should be our submission, how entire our trust and dependence I This would reconcile us to our condition; prevent all the supernumerary troubles arisiag from imagina tion, distant fears, impatience ; aU uneasiness, except that which necessarily arises from the calamities themselves we may be under. How many of our cares should we by this means be disburdened of! Cares not properly our own, how apt soever they may be to intrude upon us, and we to admit them; the anxieties of expectation, soUcitude about success and disappointment, which in truth are none of our concern. How open to every gratification would that mind be, which was clear of these encum brances ! XIV.] UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 187 Our resignation to the Arill of God may be said to be perfect, when our will is lost and resolved up into his ; when we rest in his will as our end, as being itself most just and right and good. And where is the impossibility of such an affection to what is just and right and good, such a loyalty of heart to the Governor of the universe, as shall prevad over aU sinister indirect desires of our own "? Neither is this at bottom any thing more than faith and honesty and fairness of miud ; in a more enlarged sense indeed, than those words are com monly used. And as, in common cases, fear and hope and other passions are raised in us by their respective objects : so this submission of heart and sotd and mind, this religious resignation, would be as naturaUy produced by our haring just conceptions of Almighty God, and a real sense of his presence with us. In how low a degree soever this temper usuaUy prevails amongst men, yet it is a temper right in itself : it is what we owe to our Creator : it is par ticularly suitable to our mortal condition, and what we should endeavour after for our own sakes in our passage through such a world as this ; where is nothing upon which we can rest or depend ; nothing but what we are liable to be deceived and dis appointed in. Thus we might acquaint ourselves with God, and he at peace. This is piety and religion in the strictest sense, considered as an habit of mind : an habitual sense of God's presence with us ; being affected towards him, as present, in the manner his superior nature requires from such a creature as man: this is to walk with God. Little more need be said of devotion or religious worship, than that it is this temper exerted into act. The nature of it consists in the actual exercise of 188 UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. [SERM. those affections towards God, which are supposed habitual in good men. He is always equaUy present -\rith us : but we are so much taken up with sensible things, that Zo, 7u' goeth hy us, and we see him not: he passeth on also, bid ive perceive him nof^. De votion is retfrement, fr-om the world he has made, to him alone : it is to withdraw from the avocations of sense, to employ our attention wholly upon him as upon an object actuaUy present, to yield ourselves up to the mfluence of the divine presence, and to give full scope to the affections of gratitude, love, reverence, trust, and dependence ; of which infi nite power, wisdom, and goodness is the natural and only adequate object. We may apply to the whole of devotion those words of the Son of Si rach, When you glorify the Lord, exalt him as much as yiiu can; for even yet ivill he far e.rcecd ; and when you e.ralt him, put forth all your strength, and he not weary ; for you can never go fur enough^. Om- most raised affections of every kind cannot but fall short and be disproportionate, when an infinite being is the object of them. This is the highest exercise and employment of mind that a creature is capable of. As this dirine serrice and worship is itself absolutely due to God, so also is it necessary in order to a further end, to keep alive upon our minds a sense of his authority, a sense that in our ordinary behaviour amongst men we act under him as our governor and judge. Thus you see the temper of mind respecting God, which is particularly suitable to a state of imper fection; to creatures in a progress of being towards somewhat further. Suppose now this something further attained; that "^ Job ix. II. d Ecclus. xliii. 30. XIV. J UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 189 we were arrived at it : what a perception will it be, to see and know and feel that our trust was not vain, our dependence not groundless ? that the issue, event, and consummation came out such as fuUy to justify and answer that resignation ? If the obscure view of the divine perfection, which we have in this world, ought in just consequence to beget an entire resignation ; what will this resignation be exalted into, when ive shall see face to face, and know as we are known ? If we cannot form any distinct notion of that perfection of the love of God, which casts out all fear; of that enjoyment of him, which will be the happiness of good men hereafter ; the considera tion of our wants and capacities of happiness, and that he ^rill be an adequate supply to them, must serve us instead of such distinct conception of the particular happiness itself. Let us then suppose a man entirely disengaged from business and pleasure, sitting down alone and at leisure, to reflect upon himself and his own con dition of being. He would immediately feel that he was by no means complete of himself, but totally insufficient for his own happiness. One may venture to affirm, that every man hath felt this, whether he hath again refiected upon it or not. It is feeUng this deficiency, that they are unsatisfied with them selves, which makes men look out for assistance from abroad; and which has given rise to various kinds of amusements, altogether needless any otherwise than as they serve to fiU up the blank spaces of time, and so hinder their feeling this deficiency, and being uneasy with themselves. Now, if these external things we take up vrith were really au adequate supply to this deficiency of human nature, if by their means our capacities and desires were all satis- 190 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. [SERM. fied and filled up ; then it might be truly said, that we had found out the proper happiness of man ; and so might sit down satisfied, and be at rest in the enjoyment of it. But if it appears, that the amuse ments, which men usually pass their time in, are so far from coming up to or answering our notions and desires of happiness, or good, that they are really no more than what they are commonly called, somewhat to pass away the time ; i e. somewhat which serves to ttirn us aside from, and prevent our attending to, this our internal poverty and want ; if they serve only, or chiefly, to suspend, instead of satisfying our conceptions and desires of happiness ; if the want remains, and we have found out little more than barely the means of making it less sensible ; then are we stiU to seek for somewhat to be an adequate supply to it. It is plain that there is a capacity in the nature of man, which neither riches nor honours nor sensual gratifications, nor anything in this world, can perfectly fiU up, or satisfy: there is a deeper and more essential want, than any of these things can be the supply of. Yet surely there is a pos sibility of somewhat, which may fill up all our capacities of happiness ; somewhat, in which our souls may find rest ; somewhat, which may be to us that satisfactory good we are inquiring after. But it cannot be any thing which is valuable only as it tends to some further end. Those therefore who have got this world so much into their hearts, as not to be able to consider happiness as consisting in any thing but property and possessions, which are only valuable as the means to somewhat else, cannot have the least glimpse of the subject before us ; which is the end, not the means ; the thing itself, not some what in order to it. But if you can lay aside that XIV.J UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 191 general, confused, undeterminate notion of happiness, as consisting in such possessions ; and fix in your thoughts, that it ready can consist in nothing but in a faculty's having its proper object; you will clearly see, that in the coolest way of consideration, without either the heat of fanciful enthusiasm, or the warmth of real devotion, nothing is more certain, than that an infinite Being may himself be, if he pleases, the supply to all the capacities of otir nature. All the common enjoyments of life are from the faculties he hath endued us with, and the objects he hath made stutable to them. He may himself be to us infinitely more than aU these : he may be to us aU that we want. As our under standing can contemplate itself, and our affections be exercised upon themselves by reflection, so may each be employed in the same manner upon any other mind : and since the Supreme Mind, the Author and Cause of aU things, is the highest possi ble object to himself, he may be an adequate supply to aU the faculties of our souls ; a subject to our understanding, and an object to our affections. Consider then : when we shaU have put off this mortal body, when we shall be divested of sensual appetites, and those possessions which are now the means of gratification shall be of no avaU ; when this restless scene of business and vain pleasures, which now diverts us from ourselves, shaU be all over ; we, our proper self, shall still remain : we shall stUl continue the same creatures we are, with wants to be suppUed, and capacities of happiness. We must have faculties of perception, though not sensi tive ones ; and pleasure or uneasiness from our per ceptions, as now we have. There are certain ideas, which we express by 192 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. the words, order, harmony, proportion, beauty, the furthest removed from any thing sensual. Now what is there in those intellectual images, forms, or ideas, which begets that approbation, love, delight, and even rapture, which is seen in some persons' faces upon having those objects present to their minds 1 — " Mere enthusiasm ! " — Be it what it will : there are objects, works of nature and of art, which all mankind have delight from, quite distinct from their affording gratification to sensual appetites ; and from quite another view of them, than as being for their interest and further advantage. The faculties from which we are capable of these pleasures, and the pleasures themselves, are as natural, and as much to be accounted for, as any sensual appetite whatever, and the pleasure from its gratification. Words to be sure are wanting upon this subject : to say, that everything of grace and beauty throughout the whole of nature, every thing exceUent and amiable shared in differently lower degrees by the whole creation, meet in the Author and Cause of all things ; this is an inadequate, and perhaps improper way of speaking of the divine nature : but it is manifest that absolute rectitude, the perfection of being, must be in all senses, and in every respect, the highest object to the mind. In this world it is only the effects of wisdom and power and greatness which we discern : it is not im possible, that hereafter the qualities themselves in the supreme Being may be the immediate object of contemplation. What amazing wonders are opened to view by late improvements ! What an object is the universe to a creature, if there be a creature who can comprehend its system ! But it must be an infinitely higher exercise of the under- XIV.] UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 193 standing, to view the scheme of it in that mind, which projected it, before its foundations were laid. And surely we have meaning to the words, when we speak of going further ; and viewing, not only this system in his mind, but the wisdom and intelUgence itself from whence it proceeded. The same may be said of power. But since wisdom and power are not God, he is a wise, a powerful Being ; the divine nature may therefore be a further object to the understanding. It is nothing to observe that our senses give us but an imperfect knowledge of things : effects themselves, if we knew them thoroughly, would give us but imperfect notions of wisdom and power ; much less of his being, in whom they reside. I am not speaking of any fanciful notion of seeing aU things in God ; but only representing to you, how much an higher object to the understanding an infiiUte Being himself is, than the things which he has made : and this is no more than saying, that the Creator is superior to the works of his hands. This may be dlustrated by a low example. Sup pose a machine, the sight of which would raise, and discoveries in its contrivance gratify, our curiosity : the real delight, in this case, would arise from its being the effect of skiU and contrivance. This skiU in the mind of the artificer would be an higher object, if we had any senses or ways to discem it. For, observe, the contemplation of that principle, faculty, or power which produced any effect, must be an higher exercise of the understanding, than the con templation of the effect itself The cause must be an higher object to the mind than the effect. But whoever considers distinctly .what the deUght of knowledge is, vrill see reason to be satisfied that it cannot be the chief good of man : aU this, as it BTJTLEE, SEEMONS. 0 194 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. [SEEM. is applicable, so it was mentioned with regard to the attribute of goodness. I say, goodness. Our being and all our enjoyments are the effects of it : just men bear its resemblance : but how Uttle do we know of the original, of what it is in itself? RecaU what was before observed concerning the affection to moral characters ; which, fri how low a degree soever, yet is plainly natural to man, and the most excellent part of his nature : suppose this improved, as it may be improved, to any degree whatever, in the spirits of just men made perfect ; and then suppose that they had a real view of that righteousness, which is an everlasting righteousness ; of the conformity of the dirine vrill to the law ofl truth, in which the moral attributes of God consist; of that goodness in the sovereign Mind, which gave birth to the universe: add, what wdl be true of all good men hereafter, a consciousness of having an interest in what they are contemplating ; suppose them able to say. This God is our God flor ever and ever : would they be any longer to seek for what was thefr chief happi ness, their final good 1 Could the utmost stretch of thefr capacities look further 1 Would not infinite perfect goodness be thefr very end, the last end and object of thefr affections; beyond which they could neither have nor desire; beyond which they could not form a vrish or thought 1 Consider wherein that presence of a friend con sists, which has often so strong an effect, as wholly to possess the mind, and entirely suspend all other affections and regards ; and which itself affords the highest satisfaction and enjoyment. He is within reach of the senses. Now, as our capacities of per ception improve, we shall have, perhaps by some faculty entirely new, a perception of God's presence XIV.J UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 195 with us in a nearer and stricter way; since it is certain he is more intimately present with us than any thing else can be. Proof of the existence and presence of any being is quite different from the immediate perception, the consciousness of it. What then wdl be the joy of heart, which his pre sence, and the light of his countenance, who is the Hfe of the universe, wdl inspire good men with, when they shaU have a sensation, that he is the sustainer of thefr being, that they exist in him; when they shaU feel his influence to cheer and en- Uven and support thefr frame, in a manner of which we have now no conception 1 He vrill be in a literal sense their strength and their portion for ever. When we speak of things so much above our comprehension, as the employment and happiness of a future state, doubtless it behoves us to speak with all modesty and distrust of ourselves. But the scripture represents the happiness of that state under the notions of seeing God, seeing him as he is, knowing as we are known, and seeing face to face. These words are not general or undeter mined, but express a particular determinate happi ness. And I wUl be bold to say, that nothiag can accoimt for or come up to these expressions, but only this, that God himself vrill be an object to our faculties, that he himself wdl be our happi ness ; as distinguished from the enjoyments of the present state, which seem to arise, not immediately from him, but from the objects he has adapted to give us delight. To conclude : Let us suppose a person tired with care and sorrow and the repetition of vain delights which fill up the round of Ufe ; sensible that every thing here below in its best estate is altogether 0 2 196 UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. [SEEM. vanity. Suppose him to feel that deficiency of human nature, before taken notice of; and to be convinced that God alone was the adequate supply to it. What could be more appUcable to a good man in this state of mind; or better express his present wants and distant hopes, his passage through this world as a progress towards a state of perfec tion, than the following passages in the devotions of the royal prophet "? They are plainly in an higher and more proper sense appUcable to this, than they could be to any thing else. / have seen an end of all perflection. Whom have I in heaven hut thee'? And there is none upon earth that I desire in com parison of thee. My flesh and my heart faileth : but God is the strength ofl my heart, and my portion flor ever. Like as the hart desireth the water-brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, O God. My soul is athirst for God, yea, even flor the living God : when shall I come to appear before him f How excellent is thy lovingkindness, 0 God ! and the children of men shall put their trust under the shadow of thy wings. They shall be satisfied with the plenteous- ness of thy house: and thou shalt give them drink of thy pleasures, as out ofl the river. For with thee is the well ofl life : and in thy light shall uoe see light. Blessed is ihe man whom thou choosest, and receivest unto thee ; he shall dwell in thy court, and shall be satisfied with the pleasures of thy house, even of thy holy tewiple. Blessed is the people, 0 Lord, that can rejoice in thee : they shall walk in the light ofl thy countenance. Their delight shall be daily in thy name, and in thy righteousness shall they make their boast. For thou art the glory ofl their strength: and in thy lovingkindness they shall he exalted. As for me, I will behold thy XIV.J UPON THE LOVE OF QOD. 197 presence in righteousness: and when I awake up after thy likeness, I shall be satisfied with it. Thou shalt shew me the path of life ; in thy presence is the fulness ofl joy, and at thy right hand there is pleasure flor evermore. SEEMON XY. UPON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. Eccles. viii. 16, 17. When I applied mine heart to Icnow wisdom,, and io see ihe busi ness that is done vpon the earth : then I beheld all ihe work of God, ihat a man cannot fmd oui the work thai is done under the sun : because though a man labour to seek it out, yei he shall noi find ii; yea further ; though a wise man think to know it, yei shall he not be able iofind it. rilHE writings of Solomon are very much taken up -¦- with reflections upon human nature and human life ; to which he hath added, in this book, reflec tion upon the constitution of things. And it is not improbable, that the little satisfaction and the great difficulties he met with in his researches into the general constitution of nature, might be the occasion of his confining himself, so much as he hath done, to life and conduct. However, upon that joint reriew he expresses great ignorance of the works of God, and the method of his prori dence in the government of the world ; great la bour and weariness in the search and observation he had employed himself about ; and great dis appointment, pain, and even vexation of mind, upon that which he had remarked of the appear ances of things, and of what was going forward UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. 199 upon this earth. This whole review and inspection, and the result of it, sorrow, perplexity, a sense of his necessary ignorance, suggests various reflec tions to his mind. But, notwithstanding aU this ignorance and dissatisfaction, there is somewhat upon which he assuredly rests and depends ; some what, which is the conclusion of the whole matter, and the only concern of man. Follovring this his method and train of reflection, let us consider, I. The assertion of the text, the ignorance of man; that the wisest and most knowing cannot comprehend the ways and works of God : and then, II. What are the just consequences of this ob servation and knowledge of our own ignorance, and the reflections which it leads us to. I. The wisest and most knowing cannot compre hend the works of God, the methods and designs of his providence in the creation and government of the world. Creation is absolutely and entirely out of our depth, and beyond the extent of our utmost reach. And yet it is as certain that God made the world, as it is certain that effects must have a cause. It is indeed in general no more than effects, that the most knovring are acquainted vrith : for as to causes, they are as entfrely in the dark as the most ignor ant. What are the laws by which matter acts upon matter, but certain effects ; which some, having observed to be frequently repeated, have reduced to general rules 1 The real nature and essence of beings Hkewise is what we are alto gether ignorant of AU these things are so en tirely out of our reach, that we have not the least glimpse of them. And we know little more of our selves, than we do of the world about us : how we 200 UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. were made, how our being is continued and pre served, what the faculties of our minds are, and upon what the power of exercising them depends. I am flearflully and wonderflully made : marvellous are thy works, and that my soul knoweth right well Our own nature, and the objects we are surrounded with, serve to raise our curiosity; but we are quite out of a condition of satisfying it. Every secret which is disclosed, every discovery which is made, every new effect which is brought to view, serves to conrince us of numberless more which remain concealed, and which we had before no suspi cion of. And what if we were acquainted with the whole creation, in the same way and as thoroughly as we are with any single object in it 1 What would aU this natural knowledge amount to 1 It must be a low curiosity indeed which such superficial knowledge could satisfy. On the con trary, would it not serve to convince us of our ignorance still ; and to raise our desire of knowing the nature of things themselves, the author, the cause, and the end of them "? As to the government of the world : though from consideration of the final causes which come within our knowledge ; of characters, personal merit and demerit ; of the favour and disapprobation, which respectively are due and belong to the righteous and the vricked, and which therefore must neces sarily be in a mind which sees things as they really are ; though, I say, from hence we may know some what concerning the designs of Providence in the government of the world, enough to enforce upon us religion and the practice of virtue : yet, since the monarchy of the universe is a domiition un limited in extent, and everlasting in duration ; the XV .] UPON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 201 general system of it must necessarily be quite beyond our comprehension. And, since there ap pears such a subordination and reference of the several parts to each other, as to constitute it properly one administration or government ; we cannot have a thorough knowledge of any part, without knowing the whole. This surely should convince us, that we are much less competent judges of the very small part which comes under our notice in this world, than we are apt to imagine. No heart can think upon these things worthily : and who is able to conceive his way? It is a tempest which no man can see: flor the most part of his works are hid. Who can declare the works ofl his justice ? for his covenant is afar off, and the trial of aU things is in the end : i. e. The dealings of God with the children of men are not yet com pleted, and cannot be judged of by that part which is before us. So that a man cannot say. This is worse than that: for in time they shall be well approved. Thy faithfulness, 0 Lord, reacheth unto the clouds : thy righteousness standeth like the stormy mountains : thy judgments are like the great deep. He hath made every thing beautiful in his time : also he hath set the world in their heart ; so that no man can find out the work that God ¦maketh flrom the beginning to the end. And thus St. Paul concludes a long argument upon the various dis pensations of Providence : 0 the depth ofl the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! How unsearchable are his Judgments, and his ways past finding out ! For who hath known the mind ofl the Lord? Thus the scheme of Proridence, the ways and works of God, are too vast, of too large extent for 202 UPON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. [SERM. our capacities. There is, as I may speak, such an expense of power and wisdom and goodness, in the formation and government of the world, as is too much for us to take in, or comprehend. Power and vrisdom and goodness are manifest to us in all those works of God which come within our view : but there are Ukewise infinite stores of each poured forth throughout the immensity of the creation; no part of which can be thoroughly understood, without taking in its reference and respect to the whole : and this is what we have not faculties for. And as the works of God, and his scheme of government, are above our capacities thoroughly to comprehend : so there possibly may be reasons which originally made it fit that many things should be concealed from us, which we have perhaps natural capacities of understanding ; many things concerning the designs, methods, and ends of Divine Providence in the government of the world. There is no manner of absurdity in supposing a veil on purpose drawn over some scenes of infinite power, vrisdom, and goodness, the sight of which might some way or other strike us too strongly ; or that better ends are designed and served by thefr being concealed, than could be by thefr being exposed to our knowledge. The Almighty may cast clouds and darkness round about him, for reasons and purposes of which we have not the least glimpse or conception. However, it is surely reasonable, and what might have been expected, that creatures in some stage of their being, suppose in the infancy of it, should be placed in a state of discipline and improvement, where thefr patience and submission is to be tried by afflic tions, where temptations are to be resisted, and diffi culties gone through in the discharge of their duty. XV.] UPON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 203 Now if the greatest pleasures and pains ofthe present Ufe may be overcome and suspended, as they mani festly may, by hope and fear, and other passions and affections ; then the evidence of reUgion, and the sense of the consequences of virtue and rice, might have been such, as entirely in aU cases to prevaU over those afflictions, difficulties, and temptations ; prevail over them so, as to render them absolutely none at all. But the very notion itself now mentioned, of a state of discipline and improvement, necessardy excludes such sensible evidence and conriction of reUgion, and of the consequences of vfrtue and rice. Religion consists in submission and resignation to the divine wdl. Our condition in this world is a school of exercise for this temper : and our ignorance, the shaUowness of our reason, the temptations, difficul ties, aflUctions, which we are exptosed to, aU equally confribute to make it so. The general obsei-vation may be carried on; and whoever will attend to the thing will plainly see, that less sensible eridence, v\rith less difficulty in practice, is the same, as more sensible eridence, with greater difficulty in practice. Therefore difficulties in speculation as much come into the notion of a state of discipUne, as diffictdties in practice : and so the same reason or account is to be given of both. Thus, though it is indeed absurd to talk of the greater merit of assent, upon Uttie or no eridence, than upon demonstration ; yet the strict discharge of our duty, with less senrible eridence, does imply in it a better character, than the same diligence in the discharge of it upon more sensible eridence. This foUy accounts for and explains that assertion of our Sariour, Blessed are they fJmi have not seen, and yet have believed'^; have become * John XX. 29. 204 UPON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. [SERM. Christians and obeyed the gospel, upon less sensible evidence, than that which Thomas, to whom he is speaking, insisted upon. But after all, the same account is to be given, why we were placed in these cfrcumstances of ignorance, as why nature has not furnished us with wings; namely, that we were designed to be inhabitants of this earth. I am afraid we think too highly of our selves ; of our rank in the creation, and of what is due to us. What sphere of action, what business is as signed to man, that he has not capacities and know ledge fuUy equal to ? It is manifest he has reason and knowledge, and faculties superior to the business of the present world : faculties which appear super fluous, if we do not take in the respect which they have to somewhat further, and beyond it. If to acquire knowledge were our proper end, we should indeed be but poorly prorided : but if somewhat else be our business and duty, we may, notwithstandiag our ignorance, be well enough furnished for it ; and the observation of our ignorance may be of assistance to us in the discharge of it, II. Let us then consider, what are the consequences of this knowledge and observation of our own igno rance, and the reflection it leads us to. Ffrst, we may learn from it, with what temper of mind a man ought to inquire into the subject of reli gion ; namely, vrith expectation of finding difficulties, and with a disposition to take up and rest satisfied vrith any eridence whatever, which is real. He should beforehand expect things mysterious, and such as he will, not be able thoroughly to com prehend, or go to the bottom of. To expect a dis tinct comprehensive view of the whole subject, clear of difficulties and objections, is to forget our nature XV.] UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. 205 and condition; neither of which admit of such knowledge, with respect to any science whatever. And to inqiure with this expectation, is not to inquire as a man, but as one of another order of creatures. Due sense ofthe general ignorance of man would also beget in us a disposition to take up and rest satis fied with any evidence whatever, which is real. I mention this as the contrary to a disposition, of which there are not wanting instances, to find fault with and reject eridence, because it is not such as was desired. If a man were to walk by twiUght, must he not follow his eyes as much as if it were broad day and clear stmshine 1 Or if he were obliged to take a journey by night, would he not give heed to any light shining in the darkness, till the day should break and the day- star arise ? It would not be altogether unnatural for him to reflect how much better it were to have day-light ; he might perhaps have great curiosity to see the country round about him ; he might lament that the darkness concealed many extended prospects from his eyes, and wish for the sun to draw away the ved: but how ridiculous would it be to reject with scom and disdain the guidance and dfrection which that lesser Ught inight afford him, because it was not the sun itself ! If the make and constitution of man, the cfrcumstances he is placed in, or the reason of things affords the least hint or intimation, that virtue is the law he is born under ; scepticism itself should lead him to the most strict and inviolable practice of it; that he may not make the dreadful experiment, of leaving the course of Hfe marked out for him by nature, whatever that nature be, and entering paths of his own, of which he can know neither the dangers nor the end. For though no danger be seen, yet 206 UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. [SEEM. darkness, ignorance, and blindness are no manner of security. Secondly, Our ignorance is the proper answer to many things, which are called objections against reli gion ; particularly, to those which arise from the ap pearances of eril and frregularity in the constitution of nature and the government of the world. In all other cases it is thought necessary to be thoroughly acquainted with the whole of a scheme, even one of so narrow a compass as those which are formed by men, in order to judge of the goodness or badness of it : and the most slight and superficial view of any human contrivance comes abundantly nearer to a thorough knowledge ofit, than that part, which we know of the government of the world, does to the general scheme and system ofit ; to the whole set of laws by which it is govemed. From our ignorance of the constitution of things, and the scheme of Providence in the govern ment of the world ; from the reference the several parts have to each other, and to the whole ; and from our not being able to see the end and the whole ; it follows, that however perfect things are, they must even necessarily appear to us otherwise less perfect than they are ^- •> Suppose some very complicated piece of work, some system or constitution, formed for some general end, to which each of the parts had a reference. The perfection or justness of this work or consti tution would consist in the reference and respect, which the several parts have to the general design. This reference of parts to the general design may be infinitely various, both in degree and kind. Thus one part may only contribute and be subservient to another ; this to a third ; and so on through a long series, the last part of which alone may contribute immediately and directly to the general design. Or a part may have this distant reference to the general design, and may also contribute immediately to it. For instance : if the general design or end, for which the complicated frame of na ture was brought into being, is happiness ; whatever affords present XV.] UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. 207 Thirdly, Since the constitution of nature, and the methods and designs of Proridence in the government of the world, are above our comprehension, we should acquiesce in, and rest satisfied with, our ignorance, turn our thoughts from that which is above and beyond us, and apply ourselves to that which is level to our capacities, and which is our real business and concem. Knowledge is not our proper happiness. Whoever wdl in the least attend to the thing wdl see, that it is the gaining, not the having of it, which is the entertainment of the mind. Indeed, if the proper happiaess of man consisted in knowledge con sidered as a possession or treasure, men who are possessed of the largest share would have a very Ul time of it ; as they would be infinitely more sensible than others of thefr poverty in this respect. Thus satisfaction, and likewise tends to carry on the course of things, hath this double respect to the general design. Now suppose a spectator of that work or constitution was in a great measure ignorant of such various reference to the general end, whatever that end be ; and that, upon a very slight and partial view which he had of the work, several things appeared to his eye disproportionate and wrong; others, just and beautiful : what would he gather from these appearances 1 He would immediately conclude there was a probability, if he could see the whole reference of the parts appearing wrong to the general design, that this would destroy the appearance of wrongness and dis proportion : but there is no probability, that the reference would destroy the particular right appearances, though that reference might shew the things already appearing just, to be so likewise in an higher degree or another manner. There is a probability, that the right appearances were intended : there is no probability, that "the wrong appearances were. "We cannot suspect irregularity and disorder to be designed. The pillars of a building appear beautiful ; but their being likewise its support does not destroy that beauty : there still remains a reason to believe that the architect intended the beautiful appearance, after we have foimd out the reference, support. It would be reasonable for a man of himself to think thus, upon the first piece of- architecture he ever saw. 208 UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. [SEEM. he who increases knowledge would enunently increase sorrow. Men of deep research and curious in quiry should just be put in mind, not to mistake what they are doing. If their discoveries serve the cause of virtue and religion, in the way of proof, motive to practice, or assistance in it ; or if they tend to render Ufe less unhappy, and promote its satis factions ; then they are most usefuUy employed : but bringing things to light, alone and of itseff, is of no manner of use, any otherwise than as an entertain ment or diversion. Neither is this at all amiss, if it does not take up the time which should be employed in better work. But it is erident that there is another mark set up for us to aim at ; another end appointed us to dfrect our Uves to : an end, which the most knowing may fad of, and the most ignorant arrive at. The secret things belong unto the Lord our God ; hut those things which are revealed belong unto us, and to our children for ever, that we may do all ihe words of this law. Which reflection of Moses, put in general terms, is, that the only knowledge, which is of any avaU to us, is that which teaches us our duty, or assists us in the discharge of it. The economy of the universe, the course of nature, almighty power ex erted in the creation and government of the world, is out of our reach. What would be the consequence, if we could ready get an insight into these things, is very uncertain ; whether it would assist us in, or divert us from, what we have to do in this present state. If then there be a sphere of knowledge, of contempla tion and employment, level to our capacities, and of the utmost importance to us; we ought surely to apply ourselves vrith all diligence to this our proper business, and esteem every thing else nothing, nothing as to us, in comparison ofit. Thus Job, disqoursing of XV.] UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. 209 natural knowledge, how much it is above us, and of wisdom in general, says, God understandeth the way thereof, and he knoweth the place thereof. And unto man he said. Behold, the fear ofthe Lord, that is wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding. Other orders of creatures may perhaps be let into the secret counsels of Heaven ; and have the designs and methods of Providence, in the creation and gov ernment of the world, communicated to them : but this does not belong to our rank or condition. The fear of the Lord, and to depart from evil, is the only wisdom which man should aspire after, as his work and business. The same is said, and with the same connection and context, ui the conclusion of the book of Ecclesiastes. Our ignorance, and the little we can know of other things, affords a reason why we should not perplex ourselves about them ; but no way invali dates that which is the conclusion of the vShole matter. Fear God, and keep his commandments ; for this is the whole concern of man. So that Socrates was not the first who endeavoured to draw men off from labouring after, and laying stress upon other knowledge, in comparison of that which related to morals. Our province is virtue and reUgion, life and manners; the science of improving the temper, and making the heart better. This is the field assigned us to cultivate : how much it has lain neglected is indeed astonishing. Virtue is demonstrably the happiness of man : it consists in good actions, proceeding from a good principle, temper, or heart. Overt-acts are entirely in our power. What remains is, that we leam to keep our heart ; to govem and regulate our passions, mind, affections : that so we may be free from the impotencies of fear, envy, malice, covetous ness, ambition; that we may be clear of these, con- BUTLEE, SERMONS. P 210 UPON THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. [.gERM, sidered as vices seated in the heart, considered as constituting a general wrong temper; from which general wrong frame of mind, all the mistaken pur suits, and far the greatest part of the unhappiness of life, proceed. He, who should find out one rule to assist us in this work, would deserve infinitely better of mankind, than all the improvers of other know ledge put together. Lastly, Let us adore that infinite wisdom and power and goodness, which is above our comprehen sion. To whom hath the root of wisdom heen revealed ? Or who hath known her wise counsels? There is one .wise and greatly to be feared; the Lord sitting upon his throne. He created her, and saw her, and num bered her, and poured her out upon all his works. If it be thought a considerable thing to be acquauited with a few, a very few, of the effects of infinite power and wisdom ; the situation, bigness, and revolution of some of the heavenly bodies ; what sentiments should our minds be filled with concerning Him, who ap pointed to each its place and measure and sphere of motion, all which are kept with the most uniform constancy ! Who stretched out the heavens, and telleth the number of the stars, and calleth them all by their names. Who laid the foundations of the earth, who comprehendeth the dust ofl it in a measure, and weigheth the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance. And, when we have recounted aU the ap pearances which come vrithin our riew, we must add, Lo, these are part of his ways; hut how little a portion is heard of him ! Canst thou by searching flmd out Godf Canst thou flnd out the Almighty unto perfec tion? It is as high as heaven; what canst thou do? deeper than hell; what canst thou knov)? The conclusion is, that in aU lowliness of mind we XV.] UPON THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. 211 set lightly by ourselves : that we form onr temper to an impUcit submission to the Divine Majesty; beget within ourselves an absolute resignation to aU the methods of his providence, in his dealings vith the chUdren of men : that, in the deepest humility of our souls, we prostrate ourselves before him, and join in that celestial song ; Great and marvellous are thy works. Lord God Almighty ! just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints! Who shall not fear thee, 0 Lord, and glorifly thy name ? P 2 SIX SEEMONS PKEACHED UPON PUBLIC OCCASIONS. SERMON I. PKEACHED BEFORE THE INCORPORATED SOCIETY EOK THE PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL IN FOREIGN PARTS, AT THEIR ANNIVERSARY MEETING IN THE PARISH CHURCH OF ST. MAEY-LE-BOW, ON FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1738-9. Matt. xxiv. 14. And this gospel of the kingdom shall he preached in all ihetoorld, for a witness unio all nations. rf^HE general doctrine of religion, that aU things ¦'- are under the direction of one righteous Gov ernor, having been estabUshed by repeated revelations in the first ages of the world, was left with the bulk of mankind, to be honestly preserved pure and entfre, or carelessly forgotten, or wUfuUy corrupted. And though reason, almost intuitively, bare witness to the truth of this moral system of nature, yet it soon appeared, that they did not like to retain God in their knowledge'^, as to any purposes of real piety. Natural reUgion became graduaUy more and more darkened with superstition, Uttle understood, less regarded in practice; and the face of it scarce dis cernible at all, in the reUgious establishments of the most learned, poUte nations. And how much soever a Eom. i. 28. 216 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [SERM. could have been done towards the revival of it hy the light of reason, yet this light could not have dis covered, what so nearly concemed us, that important part in the scheme of this world, which regards a Mediator; nor how far the settled constitution of its government admitted repentance to be accepted for remission of sins; after the obscure intimations of these things, from tradition, were corrupted or for gotten. One people indeed had clearer notices of them, together with the genuine scheme of natural religion, preserved in the primitive and subsequent revelations committed to thefr trust; and were de signed to be a witness of God and a Providence to the nations around them: but this people also had corrupted themselves and their religion to the high est degree, that was consistent with keeping up the form ofit. In this state of things, when infinite Wisdom saw proper, the general doctrine of religion was authorita tively repubUshed in its purity; and the particular dispensation of Proridence, which this world is under, manifested to aU men, even the dispensation of ihe grace ofl God ^ towards us, as sinful, lost creatures, to be recovered by repentance through a Mediator; who was to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteousness^ , and at length establish that new state of things foretold by the prophet Daniel, under the character of a kingdom, which the God of heaven would set up, and which should never be destroyed ^. This, including a more distinct account of the instituted means, whereby Christ the Mediator would gather together in one ihe children of God, ihat were scattered abroad^, and con fe Eph. iii. 2. c Dan. ix. 24. tl Dan. ii. 44, e John xi. 52. I.J THB PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL. 217 duct them to the place he is gone to prepare flor them^ ; is the gospel ofthe kingdom s, which he here foretells, and elsewhere commands, should be preached in all the world, flor a witness unto all nations. And \t first began to be spoken hy the Lord, and was confirmed unto us by them that heard him. ; God also hearing ihem witness, both with signs and wonders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost, accord ing to his own will ^ : by which means it was spread very vridely among the nations of the world, and be came a witness unto them. When thus much was accomplished, as there is a wonderful uniformity in the conduct of Providence, Christianity was left with Christians, to be trans mitted down pure and genuine, or to be corrupted and sunk ; in like manner as the religion of nature had been before left vrith mankind in general. There was however this difference, that by an insti tution of external religion fitted for aU men, (con sisting in a common form of Christian worship, together with a standing mmistry of instruction and discipUne,) it pleased God to unite Christians in communities or risible churches, and all along to preserve them, over a great part of the world; and thus perpetuate a general pubUcation of the gospel. For these communities, which together make up the cathohc visible church, are, first, the repositories of the written oracles of God ; and, in every age, have preserved and pubUshed them, in every country, where the profession of Christianity has obtained. Hence it has come to pass, and it is a thing very much to be observed in the appointment of Pro vidence, that even such of these communities, as, in a long succession of years, have corrupted Chris- f John xiv. 2, 3. s Matt. iv. 23. h Heb. ii. 3, 4. 218 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [SEKM. tianity the most, have yet contiauaUy carried, to gether with their corruptions, the confutation of them : for they have every where preserved the pure original standard of it, the scripture, to which recourse might have been had, both by the de ceivers and the deceived, in every successive age. Secondly, any particular church, in whatever place established, is Uke a city that is set on a hill, which cannot he hid^, inviting all who pass by, to enter into it. All persons, to whom any notices of it come, have, in scripture language, the kingdom of God come nigh unto them. They are reminded of that reUgion, which natural conscience attests the truth of : and they may, if they wdl, be instructed in it more distinctly, and likewise in the gracious means, whereby sinful creatures may obtain eternal life ; that chief and final good, which all men, in proportion to their understanding and integrity, even in all ages and countries of the heathen world, were ever in pursuit of. And, lastly, out of these churches have aU along gone forth persons, who have preached the gospel in remote places, with greater or less good effect : for the estabhshment of any profession of Christianity, however corrupt, I call a good effect, whilst accompanied with a con tinued publication of the scripture, notwithstanding it may for some time lie quite neglected. ' From these things, it may be worth observing by the way, appears the weakness of aU pleas for neglecting the pubUc serrice of the church. For though a man prays with as much devotion and less interruption at home, and reads better sermons there, yet that will by no means excuse the neg lect of his appointed part in keeping up the pro- i Matt. V. 14. I.J THE PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL. 219 fession of Christianity amongst mankind. And this neglect, were it universal, must be the dis solution of the whole visible church, i. e. of all Christian communities; and so must prevent those good purposes, which were intended to be answered by them, and which they have, all along, answered over the world. For we see that by their means the event foretold in the text, which began in the preaching of Christ and the apostles, has been car ried on, more or less, ever since, and is still carry ing on ; these being the providential means of its progress. And it is, I suppose, the completion of this event, which St. John had a representation of, under the figure of an angel flying in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people^. Our Lord adds in the text, that this should be for a witness unto them; for an evidence of their duty, and an admonition to perform it. But what would be the effect, or success of the general preaching of the gospel, is not here mentioned. And therefore the prophecy of the text is not parallel to those others in scripture, which seem to foretell the glorious establishment of Christianity in the last days: nor does it appear that they are coincident; otherwise than as the former of these events must be supposed preparatory to the latter. Nay, it is not said here, that God willeth all men should he saved, and come unto the knowledge of the truth ^ : though this is the language of scripture elsewhere. The text declares no more, than that it was the appointment of God, in his righteous k Kev. xiv. 6. 1 i Tim. ii. 4. 220 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [sERM. government over the world, that the gospel of the kingdom should be preached flor a witness unto it. The risible constitution and course of nature, the moral law written in our hearts, the positive institutions of religion, and even any memorial of it, are all spoken of in scripture under this or the Uke denomination : so are the prophets, apostles, and our Lord himself. They are aU witnesses, for the most part unregarded witnesses, in behalf of God, to mankind. They inform us of liis beiag and providence, and of the particular dispensation of reUgion which we are under; and continually re mind us of them. And they are equally witnesses of these things, whether we regard them or not Thus after a declaration, that Ezekiel should be sent vrith a divine message to the children of Israel, it is added, and they, whether they will hear, or whether they will forbear, {flor they are a rebellious house,) yet shall know that there hath heen a prophet among ^/iem™. And our Lord directs the seventy disciples, upon thefr departure from any city, which refused to receive them, to declare, Notwithstanding, be ye sure of this, that the kingdom of God is come nigh unto you^- The thing intended in both these pas sages is that which is expressed in the text by the word witness. And all of them together eridently suggest thus much, that the purposes of Providence are carried on, by the preachiag of the gospel to those who reject it, as well as to those who embrace it. It is indeed true, God willeth that all men should be saved : yet, from the unalterable consti tution of his government, the salvation of every man cannot but depend upon his behaviour, and therefore cannot but depend upon himself; and is m Ezek. ii. 5. 7. n Luke x. 11. l.J THE PROl'AOATION OF THE GOSPEL. 221 necessarily his own concern, in a sense, in which it cannot be another's. All this the scripture declares, in a manner the most forcible and alarminof : Can a man he profitable unto God. as he that is wi.'ie may he profltable unto himaclf? Is it any pleasure to the Almighty, that thou art righteous? or is it gain. to Him, that thou makest thy way perfect '' ? If thou he wise, thou shalt be wise fo'' thi/sclf: but if thou scornest, thou alone shalt hear it p. He ihat hearedi, let him hear; and he that forheareth, let him forbear '\ And again. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear: but if ani/ -man be ignorant, i.e. wilfully, let him be ignorant''. To the same purpose are those aAA-ful words of the angel, in the person of Him, to whom all judgment is committed^ : He that is unjust, let him he unjust still: and he ¦which, is filthy, let him he filthy still: a-nd he that is righteous, let him be righteous still: and he that is holy, let him he holy still. And behold, I come quickly; and my reward is ivith -mc, to give every man according as his work shall be^. The righteous government of the world must be carried on ; and, of necessity, men shall remain the subjects of it, by being examples of its mercy or of its justice. Life and death are set before them, and whether they like shall he given unto thcm^. They ai-e to make their choice, and abide by it : but which soever their choice be, the gospel is equally a witness to them ; and the purposes of Providence are answered by this witness of the gospel. From the foregoing view of things we should be reminded, that the same reasons which make it our *> Job xxii. 2, 3. P Prov. ix. 12. f Ezek. iii. 27. »' I Cor. xiv. 38. -* John v. 22. * Rev. xxii. ir, 12. " Ecclus. xv. 17. 222 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [SEEM. duty to instruct the ignorant in the relation, which the light of nature shews they stand in to God their maker, and in the obligations of obedience, resignation, and love to him, which arise out of that relation ; make it our duty likewise to instruct them in aU those other relations, which revelation informs us of, and in the obligations of duty, which arise out of them.. And the reasons for instructing men in both these are of the very same kind, as for communicating any useful knowledge what ever. God, if he had so pleased, could indeed miraculously have revealed every religious truth which concerns mankind, to every individual man; and so he could have every common truth; and thus have superseded all use of human teachiog in either. Yet he has not done this : but has ap pointed, that men should be instructed by the assistance of their feUow-creatures in both. Fur ther : though all knowledge from reason is as really from God as revelation is ; yet this last is a dis tinguished favour to us, and naturaUy strikes us with the greatest awe, and carries in it an assurance, that those things which we are informed of by it are of the utmost importance to us to be informed of Bevelation therefore, as it demands to be re ceived with a regard and reverence peculiar to itself; so it lays us under obUgations, of a like peculiar sort, to communicate the Ught of it. Fur ther still: it being an indispensable law of the gospel, that Christians should unite in religious communities, and these being intended for ''reposi tories of the written oracles of God, for standing memorials of reUgion to unthinking men, and for the propagation of it in the world; Christianity is X P. 217, ai8. lJ the PROPAGATION OP THE GOSPEL. 223 very particularly to be considered as a trust, depo sited with us in behalf of others, in behalf of man kind, as well as for our own instruction. No one has a right to be called a Christian, who doth not do somewhat in his station towards the discharge of this trust; who doth not, for instance, assist in keeping up the profession of Christianity where he lives. And it is an obUgation but little more re mote, to assist in doing it in our factories abroad; and in the colonies to which we are related, by their being peopled from our own mother-country, and subjects, indeed very necessary ones, to the same government with ourselves : and nearer yet is the ob Ugation upon such persons in particular, as have the intercourse of an advantageous commerce with them. Of these our colonies, the slaves ought to be considered as inferior members, and therefore to be treated as members of them ; and not merely as cattle or goods, the property of their masters. Nor can the highest property, possible to be acquired in these servants, cancel the obUgation to take care of thefr reUgious instruction. Despicable as they may appear in our eyes, they are the creatures of God, and of the race of mankind, for whom Christ died : and it is inexcusable to keep them in ignorance of the end for which they were made, and the means whereby they may become partakers of the general redemption. On the contrary, if the necessity of the case requires, that they may be treated with the very utmost rigour that humanity vrill at all per mit, as they certainly are; and, for our advantage, made as miserable as they well can be in the pre sent world; this surely heightens our obligation to put them into as advantageous a situation as we are able, vrith regard to another. 224 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [SERM. The like charity we owe to the natives; owe to them in a much stricter sense than we are apt to con sider, were it only from neighbourhood, and our having gotten possessions in their country. For m- cidental circumstances of this kind appropriate all the general obligations of charity to particular per sons ; and make such and such instances of it the duty of one man rather than another. We are most strictly bound to consider these poor uninformed creatures, as being in all respects of one family with ourselves, the family of mankind; and instract them in our common salvation^ : that they may not pass through this stage of their being like brute beasts ; but be put into a capacity of moral improve ments, how low soever they must remain as to others, and so into a capacity of quaUfying themselves for an higher state of life hereafter. All our affafrs should be carried on in the fear of God, in subserviency to his honour, and the good of mankind. And thus navigation and commerce should be consecrated to the service of religion, by being made the means of propagating it in every country with which we have any intercourse. And the more vridely we endeavour to spread its light and infiuence, as the forementioned circumstances, and others of a like kind, open and direct our way, the more faithful shall we be judged in the discharge of that trust 2, which is committed to us as Christians, when our Lord shall require an account ofit. And it may be some encouragement to cheerftd perseverance in these endeavours to observe, not only that they are our duty, but also that they seem the means of carrying on a great scheme of Providence, which shall certainly be accomplished. For ihe ever- y Jude 3. "^ P. 223. I.] THE PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL. 225 lasting gospel shall be preachjd to every nation^: and ihe kingdoms ot^this world shall become the kingdo ns of our Lord, and of his Christ'^. However, we ought not to be discouraged in this good work, though its future success were less clearly foretold; and though its effect now in reforming man kind appeared to be as little as our adversaries pre tend. They indeed, and perhaps some others, seem torequfre more than either experience or scripture give ground to hope for, in the present course of the world. But the bare establishment of Christi anity in any place, even the external form and pro fession of it, is a very important and valuable effect. It is a serious caU upon men to attend to the natural aud the revealed docfrine of reUgion. It is a stand ing publication of the gospel, and renders it a witness to them: and by this means the purposes of Provi dence are carrying on, with regard to remote ages, as well as to the present. Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shalt find it after many days. In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand: for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall he alike good^. We can look but a very Httle way into the connections and consequences of things : our duty is to spread the incorrupitible seed as widely as we can, and leave it to God to give the increase^. Yet thus much we may be almost assured of, that the gospel, wherever it is planted, wdl have its genuine effect upon some few; upon more perhaps than are taken notice of in the hurry of the world. There are, at least, a few persons in every country and successive age, scattered up and down, and a Eev. xiv. 6. ^ Piev. xi. 15. c Eccles. xi. I, 6. d i Cor. iii. 6. BUTLER, SERMONS. Q 226 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [sEEM. mixed among the rest of mankind ; who, not being corrupted past amendment, but having vrithin them the principles of recovery, will be brought to a moral and religious sense of things, by the establishment of Christianity where they live ; and then will be influ- enced by the peculiar doctrines of it, in proportion to the integrity of their minds, and to the clearness, purity, and evidence, with which it is offered them. Of these our Lord speaks in the parable of the sower, as understanding the word, and hearing flruit, and bringing forth, some an hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty^ One might add, that these persons, in pro portion to their influence, do at present better the state of things : better it even in the civil sense, by giving some check, to that avowed profligateness, which is a contradiction to all order and govern ment ; and, if not checked, must be the subversion ofit. These important purposes, which are certainly to be expected from the good work before us, may serve to shew, how little weight there is in that objection against it, from the want of those miraculous as^ sistances, with which the first preachers of Christi anity proved its truth. The plain state of the case is, that the gospel, though it be not in the same de gree a witness to all, who have it made known to them ; yet in some degree is so to all. Miracles to the spectators of them are intuitive proofs of its truth : but the bare preaching of it is a serious ad monition to aU who hear it, to attend to the notices which God has given of himself by the light of nature ; and, if Christianity be preached with its proper evidence, to submit to its peculiar discipline and laws ; if not, to inquire honestly after its e'n- e Matt. xiii. 23. I.] THE PROPAGATION OP THB GOSPEL. 227 dence, in proportion to thefr capacities. And there are persons of small capacities for inqufry and examina tion, who yet are wrought upon by it, to deny ungod liness and worldly lusts, and live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world ^, in expectation of a future judgment by Jesus Christ. Nor can any Christian, who understands his reUgion, object, that these persons are Christians without evidence : for he cannot be ignorant who has declared, that if any man will do his will, he shall knoio ofl the doctrine, whether it be of Gods. And, since the whole end of Christianity is to influence the heart and actions, were an unbeUever to object in that manner, he should be asked, whether he would think it to the purpose to object against persons of like capacities, that they are prudent without evidence, when, as is often the case, they are observed to manage their Avorldly affafrs with discretion. The design before us being therefore in general unexceptionably good, it were much to be wished, that serious men of aU denominations would join in it. And let me add, that the foregoing view of things affords distinct reasons why they should. For, first, by so doing, they assist in a work of the most useful importance, that of spreading over the world the scripture itself, as a divine revelation : and it cannot be spread under this character, for a con tinuance, in any country, unless Christian churches be supported there ; but wUl always more or less, so long as such churches subsist : and therefore their sub sistence ought to be provided for. In the next place, they should remember, that if Christianity is to be propagated at all, which they acknowledge it should, it must be in some particular form of profession. f Titus ii. 12, 13. s John vii. 17. Q 2 228 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [SERJI. And thouofr they think ours liable to objections, yet it is possible they themselves may be mistaken : and whether they are or no, the very nature of society requires some compliance with others. And whilst, together with our particular form of Christianity, the confessed standard of Cln-istian religion, the scrip ture, is spread ; and especially whdst every one is freely allowed to study it, and worship God according to his conscience ; the evident tendency is, that genuine Christianity will be understood and prevail, Upon the whole therefore, these persons would do well to consider, how far they can with reixson satisfy themselves in neglecting what is certainly right, on account of what is doubtful, whether it be wrong; and when the right is of so much greater conse quence one way, than the supposed wrong can be the other. To conclude : Atheistical immorality and profane ness, surely, is not better in itself, nor less contrary to the design of revelation, than superstition. Nor is superstition the distinguishing vice of the present age, either at home or abroad. But if our colonies abroad are left without a public religion, and the means of instruction, what can be expected, but that, from living in a continued forgetfulness of God, they wdl at length cease to believe in him ; and so sink into stupid atheism 1 And there is too apparent danger of the Idee horrible depravity at home, with out the like excuse for it. Indeed amongst creatures naturaUy formed for religion, yet so much under the powers of imagination, so apt to deceive themselves, and so liable to be deceived by others, as men are ; superstition is an evil, which can never be out of sight. But even against this, true religion is a great security; and the only one. True religion takes up I.J THE PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL. 229 that place in the mind, which superstition would usurp, and so leaves little room for it ; and likewise lays us under the strongest obligations to oppose it. On the contrary, the danger of superstition cannot but be increased by the prevalence of irreligion : and by its general prevalence, the evil will be unavoid able. For the common people, wanting a religion, wUl of course take up with almost any superstition, which is thrown in their way: and, in process of time, amidst the infinite vicissitudes of the pohtical world, the leaders of parties wdl certainly be able to serve themselves of that superstition, whatever it be, which is getting ground ; and wiU not fail to carry it on to the utmost length their occasions require. The general nature of the thing shews this ; and history and fact confirm it. But what brings the observa tion home to ourselves is, that the great superstition of which tbis nation, in particular, has reason to be afraid, is imminent ; and the ways in which we may, very supposably, be overwhelmed by it, obrious. It is therefore wonderful, those people who seem to think there is but one evil in life, that of superstition, should not see, that atheism and profaneness must be the infroduction of it. So that in every view of things, and upon all accounts, irreligion is at present our chief danger. Now the several religious asso ciations among us, in which many good men have of late united, appear to be providentially adapted to this present state of the woild. And as aU good men are equally concerned in promoting the end of them ; to do it more effectually, they ought to unite in promoting it : which yet is scarce practicable upon any new models, and quite impossible upon such as every one would think unexceptionable. Tbey ought therefore to come into those already formed 230 A SERMON BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR [sEEM. to their hands ; and even take advantage of any occa sion of union, to add mutual force to each other's endeavours in furthering their common end; how ever they may differ as to the best means, or anything else subordinate to it. Indeed there are well-dis- posed persons, who much want to be admonished, how dangerous a thing it is, to discountenance what is good, because it is not better; and hinder what they approve, by raising prejudices against some under-part of it. Nor can they assist in rectifying what they think capable of amendment, in the man ner of carrying on these designs, unless they wUl join in the designs themselves; which they must acknowledge to be good and necessary ones. For what can be caUed good and necessary by Chris tians, if it be not so, to support Christianity where it must otherwise sink, and propagate it where it must otherwise be unknown ; to restrain abandoned, bare faced vice, by making useful examples, at least of shame, perhaps of repentance ; and to take care of the education of such children, as otherwise must be, even educated in wickedness, and trained up to de struction 1 Yet good men separately can do nothing, proportionable to what is wanting, in any of these ways : but their common, united endeavours may do a great deal in aU of them. And besides the particular purposes, which these several religious associations serve, the more general ones, which they all serve, ought not to be passed over. Every thing of this kind is, in some degree, a safeguard to religion ; an obstacle, more or less, in the way of those who want to have it extirpated out of the world. Such societies also contribute more especially towards keeping up the face of Christianity among ourselves ; and by their obtain- I.] THE PROPAGATION OP THE GOSPEL. 231 ing here, the gospel is rendered more and more a ¦witness to us. And if it were duly attended to, and had its genuine influence upon our minds, there would be no need of persuarions to impart the blessing : nor would the means of doing it be wanting. Indeed the present income of this Society, which depends upon voluntary contributions, wit;, the most frugal management of it, can in no wise sufliciently answer the bare purposes of our charter: but the nation, or even this opulent city itself, has it in its power to do so verv much more, that I fear the mention of it may be thought too severe a reproof, since so Httle is done. But if the gospel had its proper influence upon the Christian world in general, as it is the centre of trade and seat of learning, a very few ages, in aU probability, would settle Christianity in every country, without mfraculous assistances. For scarce any thing else, I am persuaded, would be wanting to effect this, but laying it before men in its dirine simplicity, together with an exempli fication of it in the Uves of Christian nations. The unlearned and unbelievers, falling down on their faces, would worship God, and report that God is in us ofl a truth K h I Cor. xiv. 24, 25, SEEMON II. PREACHED BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. THE LORD MAYOE, THE COURT OP ALDERMEN, THE SHERIFFS, AND THE GOVERNORS OF THE SEVERAL HOSPITALS OF THE CITY OF LONDON, AT THE PARISH CHURCH OF ST. BRIDGET, ON MONDAY IN EASTER-WEEK, 1740. Prov. xxii. 3. The rich and poor meet together ; ihe Lord is ihe maker of them all. rr^HE constitution of things being such, that the -¦- labour of one man, or the united labour of several, is sufficient to procure more necessaries than he or they stand in need of, which it may be supposed was, in some degree, the case, even in the first ages ; this immediately gave room for riches to arise in the world, and for men's acqufring them by honest means; by diligence, frugality, and pru dent management. Thus some would very soon acquire greater plenty of necessaries than they had occasion for; and others by contrary means, or by cross accidents, would be in want of them : and he who should supply thefr wants would have the property in a proportionable labour of thefr hands; A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE LORD MAYOR. 233 which he would scarce fail to make use of, instead of his own, or perhaps together with them, to pro vide future necessaries in greater plenty. Riches then were first bestowed upon the world, as they are stdl continued in it, by the blessing of God upon the industry of men, in the use of thefr under standing and strength. Riches themselves have always this source ; though the possession of them is conveyed to particular persons by different chan nels. Yet stiff, the hand of the diligent maketh rich^, and, other cfrcumstances being equal, m pro portion to its dihgence. But to return to the first rich man ; whom we left in possession of dependents, and plenty of necessaries for himself and them. A famdy would not be long in this state, before conveniencies, some what ornamental, and for entertainment, would be wanted, looked for, and found out. And, by de grees, these secondary wants, and inventions for the supply of them, the fruits of leisure and ease, came to employ much of men's time and labour. Hence a new species ofl riches came into the world, consisting of things which it might have done weU enough without, yet thought desirable, as affording pleasure to tbe imagination or the senses. And these went on increasing, till, at length, the super fluities of life took in a vastly larger compass of things than the necessaries of it. Thus luxury made its inroad, and all the numerous train of evils its attendants ; of which poverty, as bad an one as we may account it, is far from being the worst. Indeed the hands of the generality must be em ployed : and a very few of them would now be sufficient to provide the world with necessaries : * Prov. X. 4. 234 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE [SEKM, and therefore the rest of them must be employed about what may be called superfiuities ; which could not be, if these superfluities ^vere not made use of. Yet the desfre of such things, insensiblv, becomes immoderate, and the use of them, almost of course, degenerates mto luxury ; which, in every age, has been the dissipation of riches, and, in every sense, the ruin of those who were possessed of them : and therefore cannot be too much guarded against by all opident cities. And as men sink into luxury as much from fashion as direct inclination, the richer sort together may easily restrain this vice, in almost what degree they please : and a few of the chief of them may contribute a great deal towards the restraining it. It is to be observed further concerning the pro gress of riches, that had they continued to consist only in the possession of the thin.gs themselves, which were necessary, and of the things themselves which Avere, upon their own account, otherwise desirable ; this, in several respects, must have greatly embar rassed trade and commerce ; and have set bounds to the increase of riches in aU hands, as well as have confined them in the hands of a few. But, in process of time, it was agreed to substitute some what more lasting and portable, which should pass every where, in commerce, for real natural riches ; as sounds had before, in language, been substituted for thoughts. And this general agreement, (by what means soever it became general,) that Tiioney should answer aU things, together with some other improvements, gave fuU scope for riches to increase in the hands of particular persons, and likewise to cfrculate into more hands. Now this, though it was not the first origin of covetousness, yet it gives il] the lord mayor, ETC. 235 greater scope, encouragement, and temptation to covetousness than it had before. And there is moreover the appearance, that this artificial kind of riches, money, has begot an artificial kind of passion for them : both winch foUies well-disposed persons must, by all means, endeavour to keep clear of For indeed the love of riches is the root of all evil^ ; though riches themselves may be made in strumental in promoting every thing that is good. The improvement of trade and commerce has made another change, just hinted at, and I think a very happy one, in the state of the world, as it has enlarged the middle rank of people : many of which are, in good measure, free from the vices of the highest and the lowest part of mankind. Now these persons must remember, that whether, in common language, they do or do not pass under the denomination of rich, yet they really are so, with regard to the indigent and necessitous : and that considering the great numbers which make up this middle rank among us, and how much they mix with the poor, they are able to contribute very largely to thefr relief, and have in aU respects a very great iafluence over them. You have heard now the origin and progress of what this great city so much abounds with, riches ; as far as I had occasion to speak of these things. For this brief account of them has been laid before you for the sake of the good admonitions it afforded. Nor wiU the admonitions be thought foreign to the charities, which we are endeavouring to promote. For these must necessarily be less, and the occa sions for them greater, in proportion as industry should abate, or luxury increase. And the temper ^ I Tim. vi. 10. 236 A sermon preached BEFORE [sERM. of covetousness is, we all know, directly contrary to that of charity, and eats out the very heart of it. Then, lastly, there are good sort of people who ready want to be told, that they are included in the admonitions to be given to the rich, though they do see others richer than themselves. The ranks of rich and poor being thus formed, they meet together; they continue to make up one society. The mutual want, which they stUl have of each other, stiU unites them inseparably. But they meet upon a foot of great inequality. For, as Solomon expresses it in brief, and with much force, the rich ruleth over the poor°. And this their general intercourse, with the superiority on one hand, and dependence on the other, are in no sort accidental, but arise necessardy from a settled providential disposition of things, for their common good. Here then is a real, standing relation be tween the rich and the poor. And the former must take care to perform the duties belonging to their part of it, for these chiefly the present occa sion leads me to speak to, from regard to Him, who placed them in that relation to the poor, from whence those duties arise, and who is the Maker of them all. What these duties are, will easdy be seen, and the obUgations to them strongly enforced, by a little further reflection upon both these ranks, and the natural situation which they are in vrith respect to each other. The lower rank of mankind go on, for the most part, in some tract of living, into which they got by direction or example ; and to this thefr under standing and discourse, as well as labour, are greatly o Prov. xxii. 7. II.J THE LORD MAYOR, ETC. 237 confined. Their opinions of persons and things they take upon trust. Their behaviour bas very Uttle in it original or of home-growth ; very little which may not be traced up to the infiuence of others, and less which is not capalde of being changed by such infiuence. Then as God has made plentiful provision for all his creatures, the wants of all, even of the poorest, might be supplied, so far as it is fit they should, by a p)roper distribution of it. This being the condition of the lower part of mankind, consider now what influence, as well as power, thefr superiors must, from the nature of the case, have over them. For they can instil mstruction, and recommend it in a peculiar manner by thefr example, and enforce it still further vrith favour and dis couragement of various kinds. And experience shews, that they do direct and change the course of the world as they please. Not only the civd welfare, but the morals and religion of their fellow- creatures, greatly depend upon them ; much more in deed than they would, if the common people were not greatly wanting to thefr duty. All this is eridently true of superiors in general ; superiors in riches, authority, and understanding, taken together. And need I say how much of this whole superiority goes along vrith riches "? It is no small part of it, which aiises out of riches themselves. In all govern ments, particularly in our own, a good share of civd authority accompanies them. Superior natural un derstanding may, or may not : but when it does not, yet riches afford great opportunities for im provement, and may command information ; which things together are equivalent to natural superiority of understanding. But I am sure you will not think I have been 238 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE [SEBM. reminding you of these advantages of riches in order to beget in you that complacency and trust in them, which you find the Scripture everywhere warning you against. No : the importance of riches, this thefr power and influence, affords the most serious admonition in the world to those who are possessed of tbem. For it shews, how very blamable even their carelessness in the use of that power and influence must be : since it must be blamable in a degree proportionate to the importance of what they are thus careless about. But it is not ouly true, that the rich have the power of doing a great deal of good, and must be highly blamable for neglecting to do it : but it is moreover true, that this power is given them by way of trust, in order to their keeping down that vice and misery, with which the lower people would otherwise be quite overrun. For without instruction and good influence they, of course, grow rude and ricious, and reduce themselves to the utmost dis tresses; often to very terrible ones without deserving much blame. And to these must be added their unavoidable distresses, which yet admit of relief This their case plainly requires, that some natural provision should be made for it : as the case of chddren does, who, if left to their own ways, would almost infallibly ruin themselves. Accordingly Pro vidence has made provision for this case ofthe poor: not only by forming their minds peculiarly apt to be influenced by their superiors, and giving those superiors abilities to direct and relieve them; but also by putting the latter under the care and pro tection of the former : for this is plainly done, by means of that intercourse of various kinds between them which, in the natural course of things, is un- II.J THE LORD MAYOR, ETC. 239 avoidably necessary. In the primitive ages of the world, the manner in which the rich and the poor met together, was in families. Eich men had the poor for their servants : not only a few for the offices about their persons, and for the care of what we now call domestic affairs ; but great numbers also for the keeping of their cattle, the tillage of their fields, for working up their wool into furniture and vestments of necessary use as well as ornament, and for preparing them those many things at home, which now pass through a midtitude of unknown poor hands successively, and are by them prepared, at a distance, for the use of the rich. The instruc tion of these large famUies, and the oversight of thefr morals and religion, plainly belonged to the heads of them. And that obvious humanity, which every one feels, must have induced them to be kind to aU whom they found under their roof, in sick ness and old age. In this state of the world, the relation between the rich and the poor could not but be universaUy seen and acknowledged. Now indeed it is less in sight, by means of artificial methods of carrying on business, which yet are not blamable. But tbe relation still subsists, and the obligations arising out of it; and cannot but re main the same, whilst the rich have the same want of the poor, and make the same use of them, though not so immediately under their eye ; and whilst the instruction and manners, and good or bad state of the poor, really depend in so great a degree upon the rich, as all these things evidently do ; partly in their capacity of magistrates, but very much also in their private capacity. In short, he who has distributed men into these different ranks, and at the same time united them into one society, in such sort as 240 a sermon PREACHED BEFORE [sEEM, men are united, has, by this constitution of things, formally put the poor under the superintendency and patronage of the rich. The rich then are charged, by natural providence, as much as by re vealed appointment, with the care of the poor : not io maintain them idle ; which, were it possible they could be so maintained, would produce greater mis chiefs than those which charity is to prevent ; but to take care, that they maintain themselves by their labour, or in case tbey cannot, then to relieve them ; to restrain their vices, and form their minds to vir tue and reUgion. This is a trust, yet it is not a burden, but a privilege, annexed to riches. And if every one discharged his share of the trust faith fully, whatever be his share of it, the world would be quite another place from what it is. But' that cannot be, till covetousness, debauchery, and every vice, be unknown among the rich. Then, and not before, wdl the manners of the poor be, in all re spects, what they ought to be, and their distresses find the full relief which they ought to find. And, as far as things of this sort can be calculated, in proportion to the right behaviour of persons whom God has placed in the former of these ranks, will be the right behaviour and good condition of those who are cast into the latter. Every one of abihty then is to be persuaded to do somewhat towards this, keeping up a sense of vfrtue and reUgion among the poor, and reUeving their wants ; each as much as he can be persuaded to. Since the generality will not part with their vices, it were greatly to be wished, they would bethink themselves, and do what good they are able, so far only as is consistent with them. A vicious rich man cannot pass through life without doing an incredible deal of mischief. H.J THE LORD MAYOR, ETC. 241 were it only by his example and influence ; besides neglecting tbe most important obligations, which arise from his superior fortune. Yet still, the fewer of them he neglects, and the less mischief he does, the less share of the vices and miseries of his inferiors will lie at his door : the less wiU be his guilt and punishment. But conscientious persons of this rank must revolve again and again in their minds, how great the trust is, which God has annexed to it. They must each of them consider impartiaUy, what is his own particular share of that trust; which is determined by his situation, character, and fortune together : and then set himself to be as useful as he can in those particular ways, which he finds thus marked out for him. This is exactly the precept of St. Peter; As every m,an hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stevjards ofl the maniflold grace ofl God'^. And as rich men, by a right direction of their great capacity, may entitle themselves to a greater reward ; so by a wrong dfrection of it, or even by great negUgence, they may become partakers of other men's sins^, and chargeable vrith other men's miseries. For if there be at aU any measures of proportion, any sort of regularity and order in the administration of things, it is self-erident, that unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required : and to whom much is committed, of him shall more he demanded^. But stdl it is to be remembered, that every man's behaviour is his own concern, for every one must give account of his own works ; and that the lower people are very greatly to blame in yielding to any Ul influence, particularly foUowing the ill example of their superiors; though these are more to blame d I Pet. iv. IO. e i Tim. v. 22. f Luke xii. 48. BIFTLEB, SERMONS. R 242 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE [SERM. in setting them such an example. For, as our Lord declares, in the words immediately preceding those just mentioned, that servant which knew his lord's ivill, and prepared not himself, neither did accord ing to his will, shall he beaten wiih many stripes. But he that knew not, and did commit things worthy ofl stripes, shall he beaten with few stripess. Vice is itself of ill-desert, and therefore shall be punished in all; though its ill- desert is greater or less, and so shall be its punishment, in proportion to men's knowledge of God and religion : but it is in the most literal sense true, that he who knew not his lord's will, and committed things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten, though with few stripes. For it being the discernment, that such and such actions are evil, which renders them vicious in him who does them, ignorance of other things, though it may lessen, yet it cannot remit the punishment of such actions in a just administration, because it cannot destroy the gudt of them : much less can corrupt deference and regard to the example of su periors in matters of plain duty and sin have this effect. Indeed the lowest people know very well, that such ill example affords no reason why they should do ill ; but they hope it wiU be an excuse for them, and thus deceive themselves to their ruin : which is a forcible reason why their superiors should not lay this snare in their way. All this approves itself to our natural under standing ; though it is by means of Christianity chiefly, that it is thus enforced upon our con sciences. And Christianity, as it is more than a dispensation of goodness, in the general notion of goodness, even a dispensation of forgiveness, of g Luke xii. 47, 48. II.J THE LORD MAYOR, ETC. 243 mercy and favour on God's part, does in a peculiar manner heighten om* obligations to charity among ourselves. In this was manifested the love ofl God towards us, — that he sent his Son to be ihe prop'itia- tion for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one anotherK With what un answerable force is that question of our Lord to be appUed to every branch of this duty, Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee^ ? And can there be a sfronger inducement to endeavour the reformation of the world, and bringing it to a sense of virtue and reUgion, than the assurance given us, that he which co'iwe'rteth a sinner from the error of his way, and, iu like manner, he also who preventeth a per son's being corrupted, by taking care of his educa tion, shall save a sold from death, and hide a multitude ofl sins^ ? These things lead us to the following observa tions on the several charities which are the occasion of these annual solemnities : 1. What we have to bestow in charity being a trust, we cannot discharge it faithfully, without taking some care to satisfy ourselves in some de gree, that we bestow it upon the proper objects of charity. One hears persons complaining, that it is difficult to distinguish who are such; yet often seeming to forget, that this is a reason for using their best endeavours to do it. And others make a custom of giving to idle vagabonds : a kind of charity, very improperly so called, wbich one ready wonders people can aUow themselves in; merely to be reUeved from importunity, or at best to gratify a false good-nature. For they cannot but know, h I John iv. 9, IO, 1 1. ' Matt, xviii. 33. ^ James v. 20. R % 244 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE [SERM. that it is, at least, very doubtful, whether what they thus give wdl not immediately be spent in riot and debauchery. Or suppose it be not, yet stiU they know, they do a great deal of certain mischief, by encouraging this shameful trade of begging in the streets, and aU the disorders which accompany it. But the charities towards which I now ask your assistance, as they are always open, so every one may contribute to them with fuU assurance, that he bestows upon proper objects, and in general that he does vastly more good, than by equal sums given separately to particular persons. For that these charities really have these advantages, has been fuUy made out, by some who have gone before me in the duty I am discharging, and by the reports annually published at this time. [Ilere the Report annexed was read.] Let us thank God for these charities, in behalf of the poor; and also on our own behalf, as they give us such clear opportunities of doing good. Indeed without them, vice and misery, of which there is stdl so much, would abound so much more in this populous city, as to render it scarce an habitable place. 2. Amongst the pecuUar advantages of public charities above private ones, is also to be mentioned, that they are examples of great influence. They serve for perpetual memorials of what I have been observing, of the relation which subsists between the rich and the poor, and tbe duties which arise out of it. They are standing admonitions to aU within sight or hearing of them, to go and do likewise^. Educating poor children in virtue and religion, relieving the sick, and correcting offenders 1 Luke x. 37. II.J THE LORD MAYOE, ETC. 245 in order to their amendment, are, in themselves, some of the very best of good works. These cha rities would indeed be the glory of your city, though their influence were confined to it. But important as they are in themselves, their importance stdl in creases, by their being examples to the rest of tbe nation ; which, in process of time, of course copies after the metropoUs. It has indeed already imi tated every one of these charities ; for of late, the most difficult and expensive of them, hospitals for the sick and wounded, have been estabUshed ; some within your sight, others in remote parts of the kingdom. You vriU give me leave to mention par ticularly that™ in its second trading city : which is conducted with such disinterested fidelity and prudence, as I dare venture to compare with yours. Again, there are particular persons very blamably unactive and careless, yet not without good dis positions, who, by these charities, are reminded of thefr duty, and provoked to love and to good works^. And let me add, though one is sorry any should want so slight a reason for contributing to the most excellent designs, yet if any are supposed to do so ™ As it is of very particular benefit to those, who ought always to be looked upon with particular favour by us, I mean our seamen ; so likewise it is of very extensive benefit to the large tracts of country west and north of it. Then the medicinal waters near the city ren der it a still more proper situation for an infirmary. And so like wise doth its neighbourhood to the Bath hospital. For it may well be supposed, that some poor objects will be sent thither in liopes of relief from the Bath waters, whose case may afterwards be found to require the assistance of physic or surgery : and on the other hand, that some may be sent to our infirmary for help from those arts, whose case may be found to require the Bath waters. So that if I am not greatly partial, the Bristol infirmary as much deserves encouragement as any charitable foundation in the kingdom. ° Heb. X. 24. 246 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE [sEEM. merely of course, because they see others do it, stdl they help to support these monuments of charity, which are a continued admonition to the rich, and relief to the poor : and herein all good men rejoice, as St. Paul speaks of himself in a like case, yea, and will rejoice^. 3. As aU human schemes admit of improvement, all public charities, methinks, should be considered as standing open to proposals for it; that the whole plan of them, in aU its parts, may be brought to as great perfection as is possible. Now it should seem, that employing some share of the children's time in easy labour, suitable to their age, which is done in some of our charity-schools, might be done in most others of them, vrith very good effect; as it is in all those of a neighbouring kingdom. Then as the only purposes of punishments less than capital are to reform the offenders themselves, and warn the innocent by their example, every thing which should contribute to make this kind of punishment answer these purposes better than it does, would be a great improvement. And whether it be not a thing prac ticable, and what would contribute somewhat to wards it, to exclude utterly all sorts of revel-mirth from places where offenders are confined, to separate the young from the old, and force them both, in solitude, with labour and low diet, to make the experiment, how far their natural strength of mind can support them under guilt and shame and po verty; this may deserve consideration. Then again, some religious instruction particularly adapted to thefr condition would as properly accompany those punishments which are intended to reform, as it does capital ones. God forbid that I should be " Phil. i. t8. II.J THE LORD MAYOR, KTe. 247 understood to discourage the provision which is made for it in this latter case : 1 heartily wish it were better than it is; especially since it may well be supposed, as the state of reUgion is at present among us, that some condemned malefactors may have never had the doctrine of the gospel enforced upon their consciences. But since it must be ac knowledged of greater consequence, in a reHgious as well as civd respect, how persons live, than how they die; it cannot but be even more incumbent on us to endeavour, in aU ways, to reclaim those offen ders who are to return again into the world, than those who are to be removed out of it : and the only effectual means of reclaiming them, is to instil into them a principle of religion. If persons of authority and influence would take things of this and a like kind under their consideration, they might perhaps stdl improve those charities ; which are al ready, I truly believe, under a better management than any other of so large a compass in the world. But, 4. With regard to the two particular branches of them last mentioned, I would observe, that our laws and whole constitution, civil and ecclesiastical, go more upon supposition of an equality amongst mankind, than the constitution and laws of other countries. Now this plainly requires that more par ticular regard should be had to the education of the lower people here, than in places where they are born slaves of power, and to be made slaves of superstition. It is, I suppose, acknowledged, that they have greater Uberty here, than they have any where else in the world. But unless care be taken for giring them some inward principle, to prevent their abusing this greater liberty which is their 248 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE [SERM. birthright, can we expect it will prove a blessing to them ? or will they not in aU probability become more dissolute, or more wild and extravagant, what ever wrong turn they happen to take, than people of the same rank in other countries 1 5. Let me again remind you of the additional reason, which persons of fortune have to take par ticular care of their whole behaviour, that it be in all respects good and exemplary, upon account of the iafluence which it will have upon the manners of their inferiors. And pray observe how strictly this is connected with the occasion of our present meeting : how much your good behaviour in private life vrill contribute to promote the good design of all these charities ; and how much the contrary would tend to defeat it, and even to produce the evds which they are intended to prevent or to remedy. Whatever care be taken in the education of these poor children at school, there is always danger of their being corrupted, when they come from it. And this danger is greater, in proportion to the greater wickedness of the age they are to pass through. But if, upon their coming abroad into the world, they find the principles of virtue and religion recommended by the example of their superiors, and vice and irreligion reaUy discounten anced, this will confirm them in the good principles in which they have been brought up, and give the best ground to hope they wdl never depart from them. And the like is to be said of offenders, who may have had a sense of virtue and reUgion wrought in them, under the discipUne of labour and confine ment Again; dissolute and debauched persons of fortune greatly increase the general corruption of manners; and this is what increases want and II-J THE LORD MAYOR, ETC. 249 misery of all kinds. So that they may contribute largely to any or aU of these charities, and yet undo but a very small part of the mischief which they do, by their example, as well as in other ways. But still the mischief which they do, suppose by their example, is an additional reason why they should contribute to them ; even in justice to par ticular persons, in whose ruin they may have an unknown share of guilt ; or however in justice to society in general ; for which they will deserve com mendation, how blamable soever they are for the other. And indeed amidst the dark prospect before us, from that profligateness of manners, and scorn of religion, which so generally abound, this good spirit of charity to the poor discovering itself in so great a degree, upon these occasions, and likewise in the late necessitous time, even amongst persons far from being blameless in other respects ; this cannot but afford hopes, that we are not given over by Proridence, and also that they themselves will at length consider, and not go on contributing, by the example of their vices, to the introduction of that distress, which they so commendably relieve by their liberality. To conclude : Let our charity towards men be exalted into piety towards God, from the serious consideration, that we are all his creatures ; a con sideration which enforces that duty upon our con sciences, as we have any regard to him. This kind of adjuration, and a most solemn one it is, one often hears profaned by a very unworthy sort of people, when they ask relief for God's sake., But surely the principle itself, which contains in it every thing great and just and good, is grievously forgotten among us. To relieve the poor for God's sake, is 250 PREACHED BEFORE THE LORD MAYOE, ETC. to do it in conformity to the order of nature, and to his wdl, and his example, who is the Author and Governor of it; and in thankful remembrance, that aU we have is from his bounty. It is to do it in his behalf, and as to him. For he that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord V : and our Saviour has declared, that he wdl take as given to himself, what is given in a well-chosen charity i. Lastly, it is to do it under a sense of the account which will be required of what is committed to our trust, when the rich and poor, who meet here upon terms of so great inequality, shall meet here after upon a level, before him who is the Maker of them all. P Prov. xix. 17. 9 Matt. xxv. 40. SERMON m. PREACHED BEFORE THE HOUSE OF LORDS, IN THE ABBEY- CHURCH OF WESTMINSTER. ON FRIDAY, JANUARY 30, 1740-41, BEING THE DAT APPOINTED TO BE OBSERVED AS THE DAY OF THE MARTYRDOM OF KING CHARLES I. 1 Peter ii. 16. And not using yonr liberty for a cloak of ¦maliciousness, hut as the servants of God. A N history so fall of important and interesting -^-^ events as that which this day recaUs annually to our thoughts, cannot but afford them very dif ferent subjects for thefr most serious and useful employment. But there seems none which it more naturally leads us to consider than that of hypo crisy, as it sets before us so many examples of it ; or which wiU yield us more practical instruction, as these examples so forcibly admonish us, not only to be upon our guard against the pernicious effects of this rice in others, but also to watch over our own hearts, against every thing of the like kind in ourselves : for hypocrisy, in the moral and religious 252 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SERM. consideration of things, is of much larger extent than every one may imagine. In common language, which is formed upon the common intercourses amongst men, hypocrisy sig nifies little more than thefr pretending what they ready do not mean, ui order to delude one another. But in scripture, which treats chiefiy of our be haviour towards God and our own consciences, it signifies, not only the endeavour to delude our fellow-creatures, but likewise insincerity towards him, and towards ourselves. And therefore, accord ing to the whole analogy of scripture language, to use liberty as a cloak of maliciousness'^, must be a The hypocrisy laid to the charge of the Pharisees and Sadducees, in Matt. xvi. at the beginning, and in Luke xii. 54, is determinately this, that their vicious passions blinded them so as to prevent their discerning the evidence of our Saviour's mission ; though no more understanding was necessary to discern it, than what they had, and made use of in common matters. Here they are called hypocrites merely upon account of their insincerity towards Grod and their own consciences, and not at all upon account of any insincerity towards men. This last indeed is included in that general hypocrisy, which, throughout the gospels, is represented as their distinguished charac ter ; but the former is as much included. For they were not men, who, without any belief at all of religion, put on the appearance of it only in order to deceive the world : on the contrary, they believed their religion, and were zealous in it. But their religion, which they believed, and were zealous in, was in its nature hypocritical : for it was the form, not the reality ; it allowed them in immoral practices ; and indeed was itself in some respects immoral, as they indulged their pride and uncharitableness under the notion of zeal for it. See Jer. ix. 6. Psalm Ixxviii. 36. Job iii. 19. and Matt. xv. 7 — 14, and xxiii. 13, 16, 19, 24, 26, where hypocrite and blind are used pro miscuously. Again, the Scripture speaks of the deceitfulness of sin, and its deceiving those who are guilty of it ; Heb. iii. 13. Eph. iv. 22. Eom. vii. ii ; of men's acting as if they could deceive and mock God; Isa. xxix. 15. Acts v. 3. Gal. vi. 7 : of their blinding tlieir o-wn eyes ; Matt. xiii. 15. Acts xxviii. 27 : and decei-ving themselves ; which III.J HOUSE OP LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 253 understood to mean, not oiJy endeavouring to im pose upon others, by indulging wayward passions, or carrying on indirect designs, under pretences of it ; but also excusing and palliating such things to ourselves; serving ourselves of such pretences to quiet our own minds in any thing which is wrong. Liberty in the writings of the New Testament, for the most part, signifies, being delivered from the bondage of the ceremonial law ; or of sin and the devil, which St.Paul calls the glorious liberty ofthe children of God ^. This last is a progressive state : is quite a different thing from being deceived ; i Cor. iii. i8. i John i. 8. Gralatians vi. 3. James i. 22, 26. Many more coincident pas sages might be mentioned : but I will add only one. In 2 Thess. ii. it is foretold, that by means of some force, some energy of delusion, men should believe the lie which is there treated of : this force of delusion is not any thing without them, but somewhat within them, which it is expressly said they should bring upon themselves, by not receiving the hve of the truth, but Iwoing pleasure in un-righteotis- ¦ness. Answering to all this is that very remarkable passage of our Lord, Matt. vi. 22, 23. Luke xi. 34, 35, and that admonition repeated fourteen times in the New Testament, He tliat hath ears to hear, let him hear. And the ground of this whole manner of considering things ; for it is not to be spoken of as only a peculiar kind of phraseology, but is a most accurate and strictly just manner of considering characters and moral conduct ; the groimd of it, I say, is, that when persons wUl not be influenced by such evidence in religion as they act upon in the daily course of Ufe, or when their notions of religion (and I might add of virtue) are in any sort recon cilable with what is vicious, it is some faulty negligence or prejudice, which thus deludes them ; in very different ways, perhaps, and very, different degrees. But when any one is thus deluded through his own fault, in whatever way or degree it is, he deludes himself. And this is as properly hypocrisy towards himself, as deluding the world is hypocrisy towards the world : and he who is guilty of it acts as if be could deceive and mock God ; and therefore is an hypocrite towards him, in as strict and literal a sense as the nature of the subject will admit. b Rom. viii. 21. 254 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SEEM, and the perfection of it, whether attainable in this world or not, consists in that perfect love^, which St. Jolm speaks of; and which, as it impHes an entire coincidence of our wills with the will of God, must be a state of the most absolute freedom, ia the most Uteral and proper sense. But whatever St. Peter distinctly meant by this word, liberty, the text gives occasion to consider any kind of it, which is liable to the abuse he here warns us against However, it appears that he meant to comprehend that liberty, were it more or less, which they to whom he was writing enjoyed under civil govern ment : for of civd government he is speaking just before and afterwards : Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake: whether ii be to the king, as supreme; or unto governors, as unto them that are sent by him. For so is the will of God, that with welldoing, of which dutiful be haviour towards authority is a very material in stance, ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men ^ : as flree, perhaps in distinction from the serrile state, of which he speaks afterwards, and not using your liberty for a cloak of malicious ness^, of any thing wrong, for so the word sig nifies ; and therefore comprehends petulance, affec tation of popularity, vrith any other like frivolous turn of mind, as well as the more hateful and dangerous passions, such as malice or ambition ; for all of which liberty may equaUy be used as a cloak. The apostle adds, but as the servants of God: as free — but as his servants, who requires dutiful submission to every ordinance of man, to magistracy; and to whom we are accountable for our manner of using the liberty we enjoy under " I John iv. i8. d i Pet. ii. 13 — 15. e yer, 16. III.J HOUSE OF LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 255 it ; as well as for aU other parts of our behaviour. Not using your lib^iy as a cloak of maliciousness, but as the servants of God. Here are three things offered to our considera tion : First, A general supposition, that what is wrong cannot be avowed in its proper colours, but stands iu need of some cloak to be thrown over it : secondly, A particular oue, that there is danger, some singular danger, of liberty's being made use of for this purpose : lastly. An admonition not to make this ill use of our Hberty, hut to use it as the servants of God. I. Here is a general supposition, that what is wrong cannot be avowed in its proper colours, but stands in need of some cloak to be thrown over it. God has constituted our nature, and the nature of society, after such a manner, that, generaUy speaking, men cannot encourage or support themselves in wickedness upon the foot of there being no difference between right and wrong, or by a direct avowal of wrong ; but by disguising it, and endeavouring to spread over it some colours of right. And they do this in every capacity and every respect, in which there is a right or a wrong. They do it, not only as social creatures under civil government, but also as moral agents under the government of God ; in one case to make a proper figure in the world, and delude their fellow- creatures ; in the other to keep peace within them selves and delude their own consciences. And the delusion in both cases being voluntary, is, in scrip ture, called by one name, and spoken against in the same manner : though doubtless they are much more expHcit with themselves, and more distinctly con scious of what they are about, in one case than in the other. 256 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SEEM. The fundamental laws of all governments are rir tuous ones, prohibiting treachery, injustice, cruelty : and the law of reputation enforces those civil laws, by rendering these vices everywhere infamous, and the contrary virtues honourable and of good report. Thus far the constitution of society is risably moral : and hence it is, that men cannot live in it without taking care to cover those vices when they have them, and make some profession of the opposite virtues, fidelity, justice, kind regard to others, when they have them not : but especially is this necessary in order to disguise and colour over indirect purposes, which require the concurrence of several persons. Now all false pretences of this kind are to be called hypocritical, as being contrary to simpUcity ; though not always designed, properly speaking, to beget a false belief. For it is to be observed, that they are often made without any formal intention to have them believed, or to have it thought that there is any reality under these pretences. Many examples occur of verbal professions of fidelity, justice, public regards, in cases where there could be no imagination of their being believed. And what other account can be given of these merely verbal professions, but that they were thought the proper language for the public ear ; and made in business for the very same kind of reasons as civility is kept up in con versation ? These false professions of virtue, which men have, in all ages, found it necessary to make their appear ance with abroad, must have been originally taken up in order to deceive in the proper sense : then they became habitual, and often intended merely by way of form : yet often stiU, to serve their original purpose of deceiving. m.] HOUSE OF LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 257 There is doubtless amongst mankind a great deal of this hypocrisy towards each other : but not so much as may sometimes be supposed. For part which has, at first sight, this appearance, is in reaUty that other hypocrisy before mentioned ; that self- deceit, of which the scripture so remarkably takes notice. There are indeed persons who live without God in the world f ; and some appear so hardened as to keep no measures vrith themselves. But as very dl men may have a real and strong sense of virtue and reUgion, in proportion as this is the case with any, they cannot be easy within themselves but by deluding thefr consciences. And though they should, in great measure, get over their religion, yet this will not do. For as long as they carry about with them any such sense of things, as makes them condemn what is wrong in others, they could not but condemn the same in themselves, and dislike and be disgusted with thefr own character and con duct, if they would consider them distinctly, and in a frill light. But this sometimes they carelessly neglect to do, and sometimes carefully avoid doing. And as the integrity ofthe upright guides him^, guides even a man's judgment; so wickedness may distort it to such a degree, as that he may call evil good, and good evil; put darkness for light, and light for dark^ ness^ ; and think wickedly, that God is such an one as himself K Even the better sort of men are, in some degree, liable to disguise and palliate thefr failings to themselves : but perhaps there are few men who go on calmly in a course of very bad things, without somewhat of the kind now described in a very high degree. They try appearances upon themelves as f Eph. ij. 12. s Prov. xi. 3. ll- Isa. V. ao, i Psalm 1. 21. BUTLER, SERMONS. S 258 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SERM. well as upon the world, and with at least as much success; and choose to manage so as to make theu- own miads easy with their faults, which can scarce be vrithout management, rather than to mend them. But whether from men's deluding themselves, or from thefr intending to delude the world, it is erident scarce any thing wrong in public has ever been accom plished, or even attempted, but under false colours: either by pretending one thing, which was right, to be designed, when it was really another thing, which was wrong ; or if that which was wrong was avowed, by endeavouring to give it some appearance of right. For tyranny, and faction so friendly to it, and which is indeed tyranny out of power, and unjust wars, and persecution, by which the earth has been laid waste ; aU this has aU along been carried on with pretences of truth, right, general good. So it is, men cannot find in their heart to join in such thiags, without such honest words to be the bond of the union, though they know among themselves, that they are only words, and often though they know, that every body else knows it too. These observations might be exemplified by nu merous instances in the history which led to them : and without them it is impossible to understand in any sort the general eharacter of the chief actors in it, who were engaged in the black design of sub verting the constitution of their country. This they completed vrith the most enormous act of mere power, in defiance of aU laws of God and man, and in express contradiction to the real design and pubhc votes of that assembly, whose commission, they pro fessed, was their only warrant for any thing they did throughout the whole rebelUon. Yet vrith unheard- of hypocrisy towards men, towards God and their IH.J HOUSE OF LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 259 own consciences — for without such a compUcation of it their conduct is inexplicable — even this action, which so little admitted of any cloak, was, we know, contrived and carried into execution, under pretences of authority, reUgion, Uberty, and by profaning the forms of justice in an arraignment and trial, like to what is used in regidar legal procedures. No age in deed can shew an example of hypocrisy parallel to this. But the history of all ages and all countries wdl shew, what has been really going forward over the face of the earth, to be very different from what has been always pretended ; and that virtue has been every where professed much more than it has been any where practised : nor could society, from the very nature of its constitution, subsist without some general public profession of it. Thus the face and appearance which the world has in all times put on, for the ease and ornament of Hfe, and in pursuit of further ends, is the justest satire upon what has in I times been cariying on under it : and dl men are destined, by the condition of thefr being as social creatures, always to bear about with them, and, in different degrees, to profess, that law of virtue, by which they shaU finally be judged and condemned. II. As fair pretences, of one sort or other, have thus always been made use of by mankind to colour over indirect and wrong designs from the world, and to paUiate and excuse them to their own minds; Hberty, in common with all other good things, is liable to be made this use of, and is also Uable to it in a way more pecuUar to itself: which was the second thing to be considered. In the history which this day refers us to, we find our constitution, in Church and State, destroyed under pretences, not only of rehgion, but of securing S 2 260 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SERM. liberty, and carrying it to a greater height. The destruction of the former was with zeal of such a kind, as would not have been warrantable, though it had been employed in the destruction of heathenism. And the confusions, the persecu ting spirit, and incredible fanaticism, which grew up upon its ruins, cannot but teach sober-minded men to reverence so mild and reasonable an estab lishment, now it is restored ; for the preservation of Christianity, and keeping up a sense of it amongst us, and for the instruction and guide of the ignorant; nay were it only for guarding religion from such ex travagances : especially as these important purposes are served by it without bearing hard in the least upon any. And the concurrent course of things, which brought on the ruin of our civd constitution, and what fol lowed upon it, are no less instructive. The opposition, by legal and parliamentary methods, to prerogatives unknown to the constitution, was doubtless formed upon the justest fears in behalf of it. But new dis trusts arose : new causes were given for them : these were most unreasonably aggravated. The better part gradually gave way to the more violent : and the better part themselves seem to have insisted upon impracticable securities against that one danger to liberty, of which they had too great cause to be ap prehensive ; and wonderfully overlooked aU other dangers to it, which yet were, and ever will be, many and great. Thus they joined in the current measures, till they were utterly unable to stop the mischiefs, to which, vrith too much distrust on one side, and too Uttle on the other, they had contributed. Never was a more remarkable example of the Wise Man's ob servation, that the beginning of strife is as when one Hl.J HOUSE OF LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 261 letteth out waterK For this opposition, thus begun, surely without intent of proceeding to violence ; yet, as it went on, like an overflowing stream in its pro gress, it collected all sort of impurities, and grew more outrageous as it grew more corrupted ; till at length it bore down every tlUng good before it. This naturally brought on arbitrary power in one shape, which was odious to every body, and which could not be accommodated to the forms of our constitution; and put us in the utmost danger of haring it entailed upon us under another, which might. For at the king's return, such was the just indignation of the public at what it had seen, and fear of feeling again what it had felt, from the popular side ; such the de pression and compliance, not only of the more guilty, but also of those, who with better meaning had gone on with them ; and a great deal too far many of this character had gone; and such the undistinguishing distrust the people had of them all, that the chief security of our Hberties seems to have been, their not being attempted at that time. But though persons contributed to all this mis chief and danger with different degrees of guilt, none could contribute to them with innocence, who at all knew what they were about. Indeed the destruction of a free constitution of government, though men see or fancy many defects in it, and whatever they design or pretend, ought not to be thought of without horror. For the design is in itself unjust, since it is romantic to suppose it legal : it cannot be prosecuted without the most wicked means ; nor accomplished but with the present ruin of Uberty, religious as well as ciril ; for it must be the ruin of its present security. Whereas the restor- k Prov. xvii. 14. 262 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SEEM. ation of it must depend upon a thousand future contingencies, the integrity, understanding, power of the persons, into whose hands anarchy and con fusion should throw things ; and who they will be, the history before us may surely serve to shew, no human foresight can determine ; even though such a terrible crisis were to happen in an age, not dis tinguished for the want of principle and public spfrit, and when nothing particular were to he apprehended from abroad. It would be partiality to say, that no constitution of government can pos sibly be imagined more perfect than our own. And iagenuous youth may be warmed with the idea of one, against which nothing can be objected. But it is the strongest objection against attempting to put in practice the most perfect theory, that it is impracticable, or too dangerous to be attempted. And whoever wiU thoroughly consider, in what degree mankind are really influenced by reason, and in what degree by custom, may, I think, be convinced, that the state of human affairs does not even admit of an equivalent for the mischief of setting things afloat ; and the danger of parting with those securities of liberty, which arise from regulations of long prescription and ancient usage : especially at a time when the directors are so very numerous, and the obedient so few. Eeasonable men therefore wiU look upon the general plan of our constitution, transmitted down to us by our ancestors, as sacred ; and content themselves vnth calmly doing what their station requires, towards rectifying the particular things which they think amiss, and supplying the particular things which they think deficient in it, so far as is practicable without endangering the whole. HlJ HOUSE OP LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 263 But liberty is in many other dangers from itself, besides those which arise from formed designs of destroying it, under hypocritical pretences, or ro mantic schemes of restoring it upon a more perfect plan. It is particularly liable to become excessive, and to degenerate insensibly into licentiousness ; in the same manner as liberality, for example, is apt to degenerate into extravagance. And as men cloak their extravagance to themselves under the notion of liberality, and to the world under the name of it, so licentiousness passes under the name and notion of liberty. Now it is to be observed, that there is, in some respects or other, a very pecuUar confrariety between those vices which consist in ex cess, and the virtues of which they are said to be the excess, and the resemblance, and whose names they affect to bear ; the excess of any thing being always to its hurt, and tending to its destruction. In this manner licentiousness is, in its very nature, a present infringement upon liberty, and dangerous to it for the future. Yet it is treated by many persons with peculiar indulgence under this very notion, as being an excess of Hberty. And an ex cess of liberty it is to the licentious themselves : but what is it to those who suffer by them, and who do not think, that amends is at all made them by having it left in their power to retaUate safely 1 When by popular insurrections, or defamatory libels, or in any like way, the needy and the turbulent securely injure quiet people in their fortune or good name, so far quiet people are no more free than if a single tyrant used them thus. A particular man may be licentious without being less free : but a community cannot ; since the licentiousness of one wiU unavoidably break in upon the liberty of 264 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SERM, another. Civil liberty, the Uberty of a commu nity, is a severe and a restrained thing; impUes in the notion of it, authority, settled subordinations, subjection, and obedience ; and is altogether as much hurt by too little of this kind, as by too much of it. And the love of liberty, when it is indeed the love of liberty, which carries us to withstand tyranny, will as much carry us to reverence au thority, and support it ; for this most obvious reason, that one is as necessary to the very being of liberty, as the other is destructive of it. And therefore the love of liberty, which does not produce this effect ; the love of liberty, which is not a real principle of dutiful behaviour towards authority; is as hypo critical, as the religion which is not productive of a good life. Licentiousness is, in truth, such an excess of liberty as is of the same nature with tyranny. For what is the difference between them, but that one is lawless power exercised under pre tence of authority, or by persons invested with it; the other lawless power exercised under pretence of liberty, or without any pretence at all 1 A people then must always be less free in proportion as they are more licentious ; licentiousness being not only different from liberty, but directly contrary to it ; a direct breach upon it. It is moreover of a growing nature ; and of speedy growth too ; and, with the culture which it has amongst us, needs no great length of time to get to such an height as no legal government vrill be able to restrain, or subsist under : which is the condition the historian describes in saying, they could neither bear their vices nor the reme dies of them^. I said legal government : for, in 1 Nec vitia nostra, nec remedia pati possumus. Liv. lib. i. c. i. HI.] HOUSE OF LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 265 the present state of the world, there is no danger of our becoming savages. Had' licentiousness fin ished its work, and destroyed our constitution, power would not be wanting, from one quarter or another, sufficient to subdue us, and keep us in subjection. But government, as distinguished from mere power, free government, necessarily implies reverence in the subjects of it, for authority, or power regulated by laws ; and an habit of sub mission to the subordinations in civil life, through out its several ranks : nor is a people capable of liberty vrithout somewhat of this kind. But it must be observed, and less surely cannot be ob served, this reverence and submission vrill at best be very precarious, if it be not founded upon a sense of authority being God's ordinance, and the subordinations iu life a providential appointment of things. Now let it be considered^for surely it is not duly considered— what is really the short amount of those representations which persons of superior rank give, and encourage to be given of each other, and which are spread over the nation "? Is it not somewhat, in itself, and in its circum stances, beyond any thiug in any other age or country of the world 1 And what effect must the continuance of this extravagant licentiousness in them, not to mention other kinds of it, have upon the people in those respects just mentioned 1 Must it not necessarUy tend to wear out of their minds all reverence for authority, and respect for supe riors of every sort ; and, joined with the irreligious principles we fiad so industriously propagated, to introduce a total profligateness amongst them ; since, let them be as bad as they will, it is scarce possible they can be so bad as they are instructed they may 266 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THB [SEEM. be, or worse than they are told thefr superiors arel And is there no danger that all this — to mention only one supposable course of it — may raise some what Uke that levelling spirit, upon atheistical principles, which, in the last age, prevailed upon enthusiastic ones 1 not to speak of the possibUity, that different sorts of people may unite in it upon these contrary principles. And may not this spirit, together with a concurrence of dl humours, and of persons who hope to find thefr account in con fusion, soon prevad to such a degree, as will require more of the good old principles of loyalty and of religion to withstand it, than appear to be left amongst us 1 What legal remedies can be provided against these mischiefs, or whether any at aU, are considera tions the farthest from my thoughts. No govern ment can be free, which is not administered by general stated laws : and these cannot comprehend every case, which wants to be prorided against : nor can new ones be made for every particular case, as it arises : and more particular laws, as well as more general ones, admit of infinite evasions : and legal government forbids any but legal methods of redress ; which cannot but be liable to the same sort of imperfections : besides the additional one of delay; and whilst redress is delayed, however unavoidably, wrong subsists. Then there are very bad things, which human authority can scarce pro vide against at all, but by methods dangerous to liberty ; nor fully, but by such as would be fatal to it. These things shew, that liberty, in the very nature of it, absolutely requires, and even supposes, that people be able to govern themselves in those respects in which they are free ; otherwise their HI.] HOUSE OF LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 267 wickedness vrill be in proportion to their liberty, and this greatest of blessings wUl become a curse. III. These things shew likewise, that there is but one adequate remedy to the forementioned erils, even that which the apostle prescribes in the last words of the text, to consider ourselves as the servants of God, who enjoms dutiful sub mission to civil authority, as his ordinance ; and tc( whom we are accountable for the use we make of^ the liberty which we enjoy under it. Since men cannot live out of society, nor in it without govern ment, government is plainly a divine appointment ; and consequently submission to it, a most erident duty of the law of nature. And we all know in how forcible a manner it is put upon our consciences in scripture. Nor can this obUgation be denied formally upon any principles, but such as subvert all other obligations. Yet many amongst us seem not to consider it as any obligation at all. This doubtless is, in a great measure, owing to disso luteness and corruption of manners : but I think it is partly owing to thefr haring reduced it to nothing in theory. Whereas this obligation ought to be put upon the same foot vrith all other general ones, which are not absolute and without exception : and our submission is due in all cases but those, which we really discern to be exceptions to the general rule. And they who are perpetuaUy dis playing the exceptions, though they do not indeed contradict the meaning of any particular texts of scripture, which surely intended to make no altera tion in men's ciril rights ; yet they go against the general tenor of scripture. For the scripture, throughout the whole of it, commands submission; supposing men apt enough of themselves to make 268 A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE [SERM. the exceptions, and not to need being continually reminded of them. Now if we are ready under any obligations of duty at all to magistrates, honour and respect, in our behaviour towards them, must doubtless be their due. And they who refuse to pay them this small and easy regard, who despise dominion, and speak evil ofl dignities^, should seriously ask themselves, what restrains them from any other instance whatever of un dutifnlness ? And if it be principle, why not from this '? Indeed free government supposes, that the conduct of affairs may be inquired into, and spoken of vrith freedom. Yet surely this should be done vrith decency, for the sake of liberty itself; for its honour and its security. But be it done as it will, it is a very different thing from libeUing, and endeavouring to vilify the persons of such as are in authority. It wiU be hard to find an instance, in which a serious man could calmly satisfy himself in doing this. It is in no case necessary, and in every case of very pernicious tendency. But the immoraUty of it in creases in proportion to the integrity and superior rank of the persons thus treated. It is therefore in the highest degree immoral, when it extends to the supreme authority in the person of a prince, from whom our Hberties are in no imaginable danger, whatever they may be from ourselves ; and whose mild and strictly legal government could uot but make any vfrtuous people happy. A free government, which the good providence of God has preserved to us through innumerable dangers, is an invaluable blessing. And our ingrati tude to him in abusing of it must be great in pro portion to the greatness of the blessing, and the m Jude ver. 8. HLJ HOUSE OF LORDS, JAN. 30, 1740-41. 269 providential deliverances by which it has been pre served to us. Yet the crime of abusing this blessing receives further aggravation from hence, that such abuse always is to the reproach, and tends to the ruin of it. The abuse of Uberty has dfrectly over turned many free governments, as well as our own, on the popular side ; and has, in various ways, con tributed to the ruin of many, which have been over turned on the side of authority. Heavy therefore must be their guilt, who shall be found to have given such advantages against it, as well as theirs who have taken them. Lastly, The consideration, that we are the servants of God, reminds us, that we are accountable to him for our behaviour in those respects, in which it is out of the reach of all human authority; and is the strongest enforcement of sincerity, as all things are naked and open unto the eyes ofl him with whom we have to do "i. Artificial behariour might per haps avail much towards quieting our consciences, and making our part good in the short competitions of this world ; but what wiU it avaU us considered as under the government of God ? Under his govern ment, there is no darkness, nor shadow ofl. death, where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves <>. He has indeed instituted civil government over the face of the earth, for the punishment ofl evildoers, and flor the praise, the apostle does not say the rewarding, but,yor the praise ofl them that do well p. Yet as the worst answer these ends in some measure, the best can do it very imperfectly. Civil govern ment can by no means take cognizance of every work, which is good or evU : many things are done in secret; the authors unknown to it, and often the things » Heb. iv. 13. 0 Job xxxiv. 22. p i Pet. ii. 14. 270 PREACHED BEFORE THE HOUSE OP LORDS. themselves ; then it cannot so much consider actions, under the view of their being morally good or evil, as under the view of their being mischievous or bene ficial to society : nor can it in any wise execute judgment in rewarding what is good, as it can and ought and does, in punishing what is evil. But God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it he evil i. 5 Eccles. xii. 14. SEHMON IV. PREACHED IX THE PARISH CHURCH OF CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON, ON THURSDAY, MAY 9, 1745, BEING THE TIME OF THE YEARLY MEETING OP THE CHILDREN EDUCiTED IN THE CHARITY-SCHOOLS IN AND ABOUT THE CITIES OF LONDON AND WESTMINSTER. Prov. xxii. 6. Train up a child in ihe way he should go: and when he is old, he will noi depart from it. TTUMAN creatures, from the constitution of their -*-'- nature and the cfrcumstances in which they are placed, cannot but acquire habits during their childhood, by the impressions which are given them, and thefr own customary actions. And long before they arrive at mature age, these habits form a general settled character. And the observation of the text, that the most early habits are usuaUy the most lasting, is likewise every one's observation. Now whenever children are left to themselves, and to the guides and companions which they choose, or by hazard Ught upon, we find by experience, that the first impressions they take, and course of action they get into, are very bad; and so consequently 272 A SERMON PREACHED [sERM. must be their habits and character and future be hariour. Thus if they are not trained up in the way they should go, they will certainly be trained up in the way they should not go ; and in all pro bability wiU persevere in it, and become miserable themselves, and mischievous to society; which, in event, is worse, upon account of both, than if they had been exposed to perish in their infancy. On the other hand, the ingenuous docdity of children before they have been deceived, thefr distrust of themselves, and natural deference to grown people, whom they find here settled in a world where they themselves are strangers; and to whom they have recourse for advice, as readily as for protection; which defer ence is still greater towards those who are placed over them: these things give the justest grounds to expect that they may receive such impressions, and be influenced to such a course of behariour, as wiU produce lasting good habits; and, together with the dangers before mentioned, are as truly a natural de mand upon us to train them up in the way the'y should go, as thefr bodily wants are a demand to provide them boddy nourishment. Brute creatures are appointed to do no more than this last for their offspring, nature forming them by instincts to the particular manner of life appoiated them ; from which they never deriate. But this is so far from being the case of men, that, on the contrary, con sidering communities collectively, every successive generation is left, in the ordinary course of provi dence, to be formed by the preceding one; and becomes good or bad, though not without its own merit or demerit, as this trust is discharged or rio lated, chiefly in the management of youth. We ought, doubtless, to instruct and admonish IV.J AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 273 grown persons ; to restrain them from what is evil, and encourage them in what is good, as we are able : but this care of youth, abstracted from all con sideration of the parental affection, I say, this care of youth, which is the general notion of education, becomes a distinct subject, and a distinct duty, from the particular danger of their ruin, if left to them selves, and the particular reason we have to expect they will do weU, if due care be taken of them. And from hence it follows, that children have as much right to some proper education, as to have thefr lives preserved ; and that when this is not given them by thefr parents, the care of it devolves upon all persons, it becomes the duty of all, who are capable of contributing to it, and whose help is wanted. These trite, but most important things, implied indeed in the text, being thus premised as briefly as I coidd express them, I proceed to consider distinctly the general manner in which the duty of education is there laid before us : which will further shew its extent, and further obriate the idle objections which have been made against it. And all this together wiU naturally lead us to consider the occasion and necessity of schools for the education of poor chil dren, and in what Ught the objections against them are to be regarded. Solomon might probably intend the text for a par ticular admonition to educate children in a manner suitable to their respective ranks and future employ ments: but certainly he intended it for a general admonition to educate them in vfrtue and religion, and good conduct of themselves in thefr temporal concerns. And all this together, in which they are to be educated, he caUs the way they should go, i. e. he mentions it not as a matter of speculation, but of BUTLER, SERMONS. T 274 A SERMON PREACHED [SEEM. practice. And conformably to this description of the things in which chddren are to be educated, he describes education itself: for he calls it training them up; which is a very different thing from merely teaching them some truths, necessary to be known or believed. It is endeavouring to form such truths into practical principles in the mind, so as render them of habitual good influence upon the temper and actions, in all the various occurrences of life. And this is not done by bare instruction ; but by that, together with admonishing them frequently as occa sion offers; restraining them from what is evil, and exercising them in what is good. Thus the precept of the apostle concerning this matter is, to bring up children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord^; as it were by way of distinction from acquainting them merely with the principles of Christianity, as you would with any common theory. Though education were nothing more than informing chddren of some truths of importance to them, relating to religion and common Ufe, yet there would be great reason for it, notwithstanding the frivolous objections con cerning the danger of giviag them prejudices. But when we consider that such information itself is really the least part of it; and that it consists in endeavouring to put them into right dispositions of mind, and right habits of Uving, in every relation and every capacity; this consideration shews such objections to be quite absurd: since it shews them to be objections against doing a thing of the utmost importance at the natural opportunity of our doing it, childhood and youth; and which is indeed, pro perly speaking, our only one. For when they are grown up to maturity, they are out of our hands, a Eph. vi. 4. IV.J AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 275 and must be left to themselves. The natural au thority on one side ceases, and the deference on the other. God forbid, that it should be impossible for men to recoUect themselves, and reform at an ad vanced age: but it is in no sort in the power of others to gain upon them ; to turn them away from what is wrong, and enforce upon them what is right, at that season of thefr Uves, in the manner we might have done in thefr cliddhood. Doubtless reUgion requires instruction, for it is founded in knowledge and belief of some truths. And so is common prudence in the management of our temporal affairs. Yet neither of them consists in the knowledge or behef of these fundamental truths ; but in our being brought by sucb knowledge or belief to a correspondent temper and behaviour. Beligion, as it stood under the Old Testament, is perpetually styled ihe fear of God : nnder the 'New, faith in Christ. But as that fear of God does not signify literally being afraid of him, but having a good heart, and leading a good life, in consequence of such fear; so this faith in Christ does not signify literally believing in him in the sense that word is used in common language, but becoming his real disciples in consequence of such belief Our reUgion beiag then thus practical, consisting in a frame of mind and course of behariour, suitable to the dispensation we are under, and which will bring us to our final good; children ought, by educa tion, to be habituated to this course of behaviour, and formed into this frame of mind. And it must ever be remembered, that if no care be taken to do it, they wiU grow up in a direct contrary behaviour, and be hardened in direct contrary habits. They wdl more and more corrupt themselves, and spoil T a 276 A SERMON PREACHED [SEEM. their proper nature. They wdl alienate themselves further from God; and not only neglect, but trample under foot, the means which he in his infinite mercy has appointed for our recovery. And upon the whole, the same reasons, which shew, that they ought to be instructed and exercised in what will render them useful to society, secure them from the present evils they are in danger of incurring, and procure them that satisfaction which lies within the reach of human prudence; shew likewise, that they ought to be instructed and exercised in what is suit able to the highest relations in which we stand, and the most important capacity in which we can be considered; in that temper of mind and course of behariour, which will secure them from their chief evil, and bring them to their chief good. Besides jthat religion is the principal security of men's acting a right part in society, and even in respect to their own temporal happiness, aU things duly considered. It is true indeed, children may be taught super stition, under the notion of religion; and it is true also, that, under the notion of prudence, they may be educated in great mistakes as to th6 nature of real interest and good, respecting the present world. But this is no more a reason for not educar ting them according to the best of our judgment, than our knowing how very liable we all are to err in other cases is a reason why we should not, in those other cases, act according to the best of our judgment. It being then of the greatest importance, that chddren should be thus educated, the providing schools to give this education to such of them as would not otherwise have it, has the appearance, at least at first sight, of deserving a place amongst the IV.J AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 277 very best of good works. One would be backward, methinks, in entertaining prejudices against it; and very forward, if one had any, to lay them aside, upon being shewn that they were groundless. Let us consider the whole state of the case. For though this wUl lead us some little compass, yet I choose to do it ; and the rather, because there are people who speak of charity-schools as a new-invented scheme, and therefore to be looked upon with I know not what suspicion. Whereas it vrill appear, that the scheme of charity-schools, even the part of it which is most looked upon in this light, teaching the chddren letters and accounts, is no otherwise new, than as the occasion for it is so. Formerly not only the education of poor chddren, but also their maintenance, vrith that of the other poor, were left to voluntary charities. But great changes of different sorts happening over the nation, and charity becoming more cold, or the poor more numerous, it was found necessary to make some legal provision for them. This might, much more properly than charity-schools, be called a new scheme. For, without question, the education of poor chUdren was all along taken care of by voluntary charities, more or less: but obliging us by law to maintain the poor, was new in the reign of queen Elizabeth. Yet, because a change of circumstances made it necessaiy, its novelty was no reason against it. Now in that legal provision for the maintenance of the poor, poor children must doubtless have had a part in common with grown people. But this could never be suffi cient for children, because their case always requires more than mere maintenance; it requires that they be educated in some proper manner. Wherever there are poor who want to be maintained by charity, there 278 A SERMON PREACHED [sERM. must be poor children who, besides this, want to be educated by charity. And whenever there began to be need of legal provision for the maintenance of the poor, there must immediately have been need also of some particular legal provision in behalf of poor chddren for their education; this not befrig included in what we call their maintenance. And many whose parents are able to maintain them, and do so, may yet be utterly neglected as to their education. But possibly it might not at first be attended to, that the case of poor children was thus a case by itself, which requfred its own particular provision. Certainly it would not appear, to the generality, so urgent an one as the want of food and raiment. And it might be necessary, that a burden so entirely new as that of a poor-tax was at the time I am speaking of, should be as light as possible. Thus the legal provision for the poor was first settled ; without any particular con sideration of that additional want in the case of chddren; as it stiU remains, with scarce any altera tion in this respect. In the mean time, as the poor still increased, or charity still lessened, many poor chil dren were left exposed, not to perish for want of food, but to grow up in society, and learn every thing that is evU and nothing that is good in it ; and when they were grown up, greatly at a loss in what honest way to provide for themselves, if they could be sup posed inclined to it. And larger numbers, whose case was not so bad as this, yet were very far from haviag due care taken of their education. And the evil went on increasing, tiU it was grown to such a degree, as to be quite out of the compass of separate charities to remedy. At length some exceUent persons, who were united in a Society ^ for carrying on almost l" Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. IV.J AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 279 every good work, took into consideration the neglected case I have been representing; and first of aU, as I understand it, set up charity-schools; or however promoted them, as far as their abilities and influence could extend. Their design was not in any sort to remove poor children out of the rank in which they were born, but, keeping them in it, to give them the assistance which their circumstances plainly called for; by educating them in the principles of re ligion, as well as civil life ; and Hkewise making some sort of provision for their maintenance : under which last I include clothing them, giving them such learn ing, if it is to be called by that name, as may qualify them for some common employment, and placing them out to it, as they grow up. These two general designs coincide in many respects, and cannot be separated. For teaching the children to read, though I have ranked it under the latter, equally belongs to both: and without some advantages of the latter sort, poor people would not send their chddren to our charity-schools: nor could the poorest of all be ad mitted into any schools, without some charitable provision of clothing. And care is taken, that it be such as caimot but be a restraint upon the chUdren. And if this, or any part of tbeir educa tion, gives them any little vanity, as has been poorly objected, whilst they are chddren, it is scarce possible but that it will have even a quite contrary effect when they are grown up, and ever after remind them of their rank. Yet still we find it is apprehended, that what they here learn may set them above it. But why should people be so extremely apprehen sive of the danger, that poor persons wdl make a perverse use of every the least advantage, even the being able to read, whdst they do not appear at aU 280 A SERMON PREACHED [SERM. apprehensive of the like danger to themselves or their own children, in respect of riches or power, how much soever; though the danger of perverting these advantages is surely as great, and the perversion itself of much greater and worse consequence 1 And by what odd reverse of things has it happened, that such as pretend to be distinguished for the love of liberty should be the only persons who plead for keeping down the poor, as one may speak; for keep ing them more inferior in this respect, and, which must be the consequence, in other respects, than they were in times past 1 For till within a century or two all ranks were nearly upon a level as to the learning in question. The art of printing appears to have been providentiaUy reserved tiU these latter ages, and then providentiaUy brought into use, as what was to be instrumental for the future in carrying on the ap pointed course of things. The alterations which this art has even already made in the face of the world are not inconsiderable. By means of it, whether immediately or remotely, the methods of carrying on business are, in several respects, improved, knowledge has been increased °, and some sort of Hterature is be come general. And if this be a blessing, we ought to let the poor, in thefr degree, share it with us. The present state of thiags and course of providence plainly leads us to do so. And if we do not, it is certain, how little soever it be attended to, that they wiU be upon a greater disadvantage, on many ac counts, especially in populous places, than they were in the dark ages : for they will be more ignorant, comparatively with the people about them, than they were then ; and the ordinary affairs of the world are now put in a way which requires that they should " Dan. xii. 4. IV.] AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 281 have some knowledge of letters, which was not the case then. And therefore, to bring up the poor in their former ignorance, now this knowledge is so much more common and wanted, would be, not to keep them in the same, but to put them into a lower condition of life than what they were in formerly. Nor let people of rank flatter themselves, that igno rance wUl keep their inferiors more dutiful and in greater subjection to them: for surely there must be danger that it wiU have a contrary effect under a free government such as ours, and in a dissolute age. Indeed the principles and manners of the poor, as to virtue and religion, wUl always be greatly influenced, as they always have been, by the example of their superiors, if that would mend the matter. And this influence will, I suppose, be greater, if they are kept more inferior than formerly in all knowledge and im provement. But unless their superiors of the present age, superiors, I mean, of the middle, as well as higher ranks in society, are greater examples of pubhc spfrit, of dutiful submission to authority, human and dirine, of moderation in diversions, and proper care of their famdies and domestic affairs ; unless, I say, superiors of the present age are greater examples of decency, vfrtue, and religion, than those of former times ; for what reason in the world is it desirable that their example should have this greater influence over the poor 1 On the contrary, why should not the poor, by being taught to read, be put into a capacity of making some improvement in moral and reUgious knowledge, and confirming themselves in those good principles, which will be a great security for their following the example of their superiors if it be good, and some sort of preservative against their following it if it be bad % And serious persons 282 A SERMON PREACHED [SEEM. W dl further observe very singular reasons for this amongst us; from the discontinuance of that religious intercourse between pastors and people in private, which remains in protestant churches abroad, as well as in the church of Eome ; and from our small public care and provision for keepfrig up a sense of religion in the lower rank, except by distributing religious books. For in this way they have been assisted; and any well-disposed person may do much good amongst them, and at a very trifiing expense, since the worthy Society before mentioned has so greatly lessened the price of such books. But this pious charity is an additional reason why the poor should be taught to read, that they may be in a capacity of receiving the benefit of it. Vain indeed would be the hope, that any thing in this world can be fully secured from abuse. For as it is the general scheme of Divine Providence to bring good out of eril ; so the wickedness of men will, if it be possible, bring evil out of good. But upon the whole, incapacity and ignorance must be favourable to error and vice ; and knowledge and improvement contribute, in due time, to the destruction of impiety as well as superstition, and to the general prevalence of true religion. But some of these observations may perhaps be thought too remote from the present occasion. It is more obviously to the purpose of it to observe, that read ing, writing, and accounts, are useful, and, whatever cause it is owing to, would really now be wanted in the very lowest stations : and that the trustees of our charity-schools are fully convinced of the great fitness of joining to instruction easy labour, of some sort or other, as fast as it is practicable ; which they have already been able to do in some of them. Then as to placing out the poor children, as IV.J AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 283 soon as they are arrived at a fit age for it ; this must be approved by every one, as it is putting them in a way of industry under domestic govern ment, at a time of life, in some respects, more dangerous than even childhood. And it is a known thing, that care is taken to do it in a manner which does not set them above thefr rank : though it is not possible always to do it exactly as one would wish. Yet, I hope it may be observed without offence, if any of them happen to be of a very weakly constitution, or of a very distin guished capacity, there can be no impropriety in placing these in employments adapted to thefr par ticular cases ; though such as would be very im proper for the generality. But the principal design of this charity is to educate poor chddren in such a manner, as has a tendency to make them good and useful and con tented, whatever thefr particular station be. The care of this is greatly neglected by the poor : nor truly is it more regarded by the rich, considering what might be expected from them. And if it were as practicable to provide charity-schools, which should supply this shameful neglect in the rich, as it is to supply the like, though more excusable, neglect iu the poor, I should think certainly, that both ought to be done for the same reasons. And most people, I hope, wdl think so too, if they attend to the thing I am speakiag of; which is the moral and religious part of education; what is equally necessary for all ranks, and grievously wanting in all. Yet in this respect the poor must be greatly upon a disadvantage, from the nature of the case; as will appear to any one who will consider it. 284 A SERMON PREACHED [SEEM. For if poor chddren are not sent to school, several years of their childhood of course pass away in idle ness and loitering. This has a tendency to give them perhaps a feeble listlessness, perhaps an head strong profligateness of mind ; certainly an indis position to proper appUcation as they grow up, and an aversion afterwards, not only to the re straints of religion, but to those which any particular calling, and even the nature of society, require. Whereas children kept to stated orders, and who many hours of the day are in employment, are by this means habituated both to submit to those who are placed over them, and to govern themselves; and they are also by this means prepared for in dustry, in any way of life in which they may be placed. And aU this holds abstracted from the consideration of their being taught to read ; vrith out which, however, it will be impracticable to employ their time : not to repeat the unanswerable reasons for it before mentioned. Now several poor people cannot, others will not be at the expense of sending their chUdren to school. And let me add, that such as can and are wiUing, yet if it be very inconvenient to them, ought to be eased of it, and the burden of children made as light as may be to their poor parents. Consider next the manner in which the children of the poor, who have vicious parents, are brought up, in comparison with other children whose parents are of the same character. The chddren of dissolute men of fortune may have the happiness of not seeing much of thefr parents. And this, even though they are educated at home, is often the case, by means of a customary distance between them, which can not be kept amongst the poor. Nor is it impossible. IV.J AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 285 that a rich man of this character, desiring to have his chUdren better than himself, may provide them such an education as may make tbem so, vrithout his having any restraint or trouble in the matter. And the education which children of better rank must have, for their improvement in the common accomplishments belonging to it, is of course, as yet, for the most part, attended with some sort of religious education. But the poor, as they cannot proride persons to educate their children ; so, from the way in which they Uve together in poor fam Uies, a chUd must be an eye and ear witness of the worst part of his parents' talk and behariour. And it cannot but be expected, that his own wdl be formed upon it. For as example in general has very great influence upon all persons, especiaUy children, the example of their parents is of autho rity with them, when there is nothing to balance it on the other side. Now take ui the supposition, that these parents are dissolute, profligate people; then, over and above giving thefr chUdren no sort of good instruction, and a very bad example, there are more crimes than one in which, it may be feared, they wiU dfrectly instruct and encourage them ; besides letting them ramble abroad wherever they wdl, by which, of course, they learn the very same principles and manners they do at home. And from all these things together, such poor chUdren wdl have thefr characters formed to vice, by those whose business it is to restrain them from it. They wdl be disciplined and trained up in it. This surely is a case which ought to have some public prorision made for it. If it cannot have an adequate one, yet such an one as it can : unless it be thought so rare as not to deserve our attention. But in 286 A SERMON PREACHED [SEEM. reality, though there should be no more parents of this character amongst the poor, in proportion, than amongst the lich, the case which I have been putting will be far from being uncommon. Now notwith standing the danger to which the children of such wretched parents cannot but be exposed, from what they see at home ; yet by instiUing into them the principles of vfrtue and religion at school, and placing them soon out in sober famiUes, there is ground to hope they may avoid those dl courses, and escape that ruin, into which, without this care, they would almost certainly run. I need not add how much greater ground there is to expect, that those of the chddren who have religious parents will do weU. For such parents, besides setting their children a good example, wdl likewise repeat and enforce upon them at home the good instruc tions they receive at school. After all, we find the world continues very corrupt. And it would be miraculous indeed, ff charity-schools alone should make it otherwise ; or if they should make even all who are brought up in them proof against its corruptions. The truth is, every method that can be made use of to pre vent or reform the bad manners of the age, vsdll appear to be of less effect, in proportion to the greater occasion there is for it : as cultivation, though the most proper that can be, wiU produce less fruit, or of a worse sort, in a bad climate than in a good one. And thus the character of the common people, with whom these children are to Uve, in the ordinary intercourse of business and company when they come out into the world, may more or less defeat the good effects of their education. And so likewise may the character of IV.J AT CHRIST-CHURCH, LONDON. 287 men of rank, under whose infiuence they are to hve. But whatever danger may be apprehended from either or both of these, it can be no reason why we should not endeavour, by the likeliest methods we can, to better the world, or keep it from growing worse. The good tendency of the method before us is unquestionable. And I think myself obliged to add, that upon a comparison of parishes where chaiity-schools have been for a con siderable time established, with neighbouring ones, in Hke sifriations, which have had none, the good effects of them, as I am very credibly informed, are most manifest. Notwithstanding I freely own, that it is extremly difficult to make the necessary comparisons in this case, and form a judgment upon them. And a multitude of circumstances must come iu to determiue, from appearances only, concerning the positive good which is produced by this charity, and the eril which is prevented by it; which last is full as material as the former, and can scarce be estimated at all. But surely there can be no doubt whether it be useful or not, to educate children in order, rirtue, and reUgion. However, suppose, which is yet far from being the case, but suppose it should seem, that this un dertaking did not answer the expense and trouble of it, in the civil or political way of considering things. What is this to persons who profess to be engaged in it, not only upon mere civil views, but upon moral and Christian ones 1 We are to do our endeavours to promote virtue and reUgion amongst men, and leave the success to God: the designs of his proridence are answered by these endeavours, whether they will hear, or vjhether they will for bear, i. e. whatever be the success of them : and 288 A SERMON PREACHED [SEEM. the least success in such endeavours is a great and valuable effect <^. From these foregoing observations, duly consi dered, it wdl appear, that the objections, which have been made against charity-schools, are to be regarded in the same light with those which are made against any other necessary things ; for in stance, against proriding for the sick and the aged poor. Objections in this latter case could be con sidered no otherwise than merely as warnings of some inconvenience which might accompany such charity, and might, more or less, be guarded against, the charity itself being still kept up ; or as pro posals for placing it upon some better foot. For though, amidst the disorder and imperfection in aU human things, these objections were not obvi ated, they could not however possibly be under stood as reasons for discontinuing such charity; because, thus understood, they would be reasons for leaving necessitous people to perish. Well- disposed persons therefore wiU take care, that they be not deluded vrith objections against this before us, any more than against other necessary charities ; as though such objections were reasons for sup pressing them, or not contributing to their support, unless we can procure an alteration of that to which we object. There can be no possible reasons for learing poor chddren in that imminent danger of ruin, in which many of these must be left, were it not for this charity. Therefore objections against it cannot, from the nature of the case, amount to more than reasons for endeavouring, whether with or vrithout success, to put it upon a right and un- See the third of Bishnp Hurd'd SermoiM, vol. i. 344 NOTES TO THE CHARGE of human actions ; making virtue and vice altogether arbitrary ; calling evil good, and good evil; putting darkness for light, and light for darkness ; putting bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter. Page 330. 1. 4. By keeping up, as we are able, the form and face of religion — in such a degree as to bring the thoughts of religion often to tlieir mindsi\ To this it is said by our inquirer, that " the clergy of the church of " England have no way of keeping up i\\e form und face of religion " any oftener, or in auy other degree, than is directed by the pre- " scribed order of the church." As if the whole duty of a parish priest consisted in reading prayers and a sermon on Sundays, and performing the occasional offices appointed in the liturgy ! One would think the writer who made this objection had never read more of the Charge than the four pages he has particularly selected for the subject of his animadversions. Had he looked further, he would have found otiier methods recommended to the clergy, of intro ducing a sense of religion into the minds of their parishioners which occur 7nuoh oftener than the times allotted for the public services of the church : such as family prayers ; acknowledging the divine bounty at our meals ; personal applications from ministers of parishes to individuals under their care, on particular occasions and circum stances : as at the time of confirmation, at first receiving the holy communion, on recovery from sickness, and the like ; none of which are prescribed in our established ritual, any more than those others so ludicrously mentioned by this writer, " bowing to the east, turn- " ing the face to that quarter in repeating the creeds, dipping the " finger in water, and therewith crossing the child's forehead in " baptism." Page 330. 1. 11. The thing itself cannot be preserved amongst mankind without the form.]— The quakers reject all forms, even the two of Christ's own institution : will it be said, that " these men have no religion pre- " served among them 1 " It will neither be said nor insinuated. The quakers, though they have not the/o)-«i, are careful to keep up the face of religion ; as appears, not only from the custom of assembling themselves for the purposes of public worship on the Lord's day, but from their silent meetings on other days of the week. And that they are equally sensible of the importance of maintaining the in fluence of religion on their minds, is manifest from the practice of what they call inward ¦prayer, in conformity to the direction of BY THE EDITOR. 345 scripture topray continually: "which," saith Eobert Barclay, "cannot " be understood of outward prayer, because it were impossible that " men should be always upon their knees, expressing the loords of prayer ; which would hinder them from the exercise of those duties no less positively commanded." Apology for the Quaker