Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

sidered by the bustlers in this world; because, if we are to trust the face and course of things, we scarce see any virtue so hard to be put into practice, and which the generality of mankind seem so unwilling to learn, as this of knowing when they have enough, and when it is time to give over their worldly pursuits. Ay! but nothing is more easy, you will answer, than to fix this point, and set certain bounds to it. 'For my own part (you will say), I declare I want, and would wish no more, but a sufficient competency of those things which are requisite to the real uses and occasions of life, suitable to the way I have been taught to expect from use and education.'-But recollect how seldom it ever happens, when these points are secured, but that new occasions and new necessities present themselves; and every day, as you grow richer, fresh wants are discovered, which rise up before you as you ascend the hill; so that every step you take-every accession to your fortune, sets your desires one degree further from rest and satisfaction; that something you have not yet grasped, and possibly never shall; that devil of a phantom, unpossessed and unpossessable, is perpetually haunting you, and stepping in betwixt you and your contentment. Unhappy creature!-to think of enjoying that blessing without moderation! or imagine that so sacred a temple can be raised upon the foundation of wealth or power! If the groundwork is not laid within your own mind, they will as soon add a cubit to your stature as to your happiness. To be convinced it is so, pray look up to those who have got as high as their warmest wishes could carry them in this ascent. Do you observe they live the better, the longer, the merrier? or that they sleep the sounder in their beds for having twice as much as they wanted, or well know how to dispose of? Of all rules for calculating happiness, this is the most deceitful, and which few but weak minds, and those unpractised in the world too, ever think of applying as the measure in such an estimation. Great and inexpressible may be the happiness which a moderate fortune and moderate desires, with a consciousness of virtue, will secure. Many are the silent pleasures of the honest peasant who rises cheerful to his labour: why should they not? Look into his house, the seat of each man's happiness: has he not the same domestic endearments, the same joy and comfort in his children, and as flattering hopes of their doing well, to enliven his hours and gladden his heart, as you could conceive in the highest station? And I make no doubt, in general, but if the true state of his joys and sufferings could be fairly balanced with those of his betters, whether anything would appear at the foot of the account but what would recommend the moral of this discourse. This, I own, is not to be attained to by the cynical stale trick of haranguing against

the goods of fortune: they were never intended to be talked out of the world. But as virtue and true wisdom lie in the middle of extremes, -on one hand, not to neglect or despise riches so as to forget ourselves; and, on the other, not to pursue and love them so as to forget God: to have them sometimes in our heads, but always something more important in our hearts.

XIV.-SELF-EXAMINATION.

'The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib; but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.'-ISAIAH I. 3.

'TIS a severe but an affectionate reproach of the prophet's laid against the Israelites, which may safely be applied to every heedless and unthankful people, who are neither won by God's mercies nor terrified by his punishments. There is a giddy, thoughtless, intemperate spirit gone forth into the world, which possesses the generality of mankind; and the reason the world is undone is because the world does not consider, considers neither the awful character of God, nor the true relation themselves bear to him. Could they consider this, and learn to weigh the causes and compare the consequences of things, and to exercise the reason which God has put into us for the government and direction of our lives, there would be some hopes of a reformation. But, as the world goes, there is no leisure for such inquiries; and so full are our minds of other matters, that we have not time to ask nor a heart to answer the questions we ought to put to ourselves.

Whatever our condition is, 'tis good to be acquainted with it in time, to be able to supply what is wanting,-and examine the state of our accounts before we come to give them up to an impartial Judge.

The most inconsiderate see the reasonableness of this,-there being few, I believe, either so thoughtless, or even so bad, but that they sometimes enter upon this duty, and have some short intervals of self-examination, which they are forced upon, if from no other motive, yet at least to free themselves from the load and oppression of spirits they must necessarily be subject to without it. But, as the Scripture frequently intimates-and observation confirms it daily-there are many mistakes attending the discharge of this duty,-I cannot make the remainder of this discourse more useful than by a short inquiry into them. I shall therefore, first, beg leave to remind you of some of the many unhappy ways by which we often set about this irksome task of examining our works without being either the better or the wiser for the employment.

And first, then, let us begin with that which is the foundation of all the other false measures we take in this matter,—that is, the setting

about the examination of our works before we are prepared with honest dispositions to amend them: this is beginning the work at the wrong end. These previous dispositions in the heart are the wheels that should make this work go easily and successfully forwards; and to take them off, and proceed without them, 'tis no miracle if, like Pharaoh's chariots, they that drive them, drive them heavily along.

Besides, if a man is not sincerely inclined to reform his faults, 'tis not likely he should be inclined to see them; nor will all the weekly preparations that ever were wrote bring him nearer the point: so that, with how serious a face soever he begins to examine, he no longer does the office of an inquirer, but an apologist; whose business is not to search for truth, but skilfully to hide it. So long, therefore, as this prc-engagement lasts betwixt the man and his old habits, there is little prospect of proving his works to any good purpose, of whatever kind they are, with so strong an interest and power on their side. As in other trials, so in this, 'tis no wonder if the evidence is puzzled and confounded, and the several facts and circumstances so twisted from their natural shapes, and the whole proof so altered and confirmed on the other side, as to leave the last state of that man even worse than the first.

A second unhappy, though general, mistake in this great duty of proving our works is that which the Apostle hints at ; in doing it not by a direct examination of our own actions, but from a comparative view of them with the lives and actions of other men.

When a man is going to enter upon this work of self-examination, there is nothing so common as to see him look round him, instead of looking within him. He looks round,-finds out some one who is more malicious,-sees another that is more covetous,-a third that is more proud and imperious than himself; and so indirectly forms a judgment of himself, not from a review of his life and a proving of his own works, as the Apostle directs him, but rather from proving the works of others, and from their infirmities and defects drawing a deceitful conclusion in favour of himself. In all competitions of this kind, one may venture to say there will be ever so much of self-love in a man as to draw a flattering likeness of one of the parties; and 'tis well if he has not so much malignity too as to give but a coarse picture of the other, finished with so many hard strokes as to make the one as unlike its original as the other.

Thus the Pharisee, when he entered the temple, no sooner saw the publican but that moment he formed the idea to himself of all the vices and corruptions that could possibly enter into the man's character, and with great dexterity stated all his own virtues and good qualities over against them. His abstinence

and frequent fastings, exactness in the debts and ceremonies of the law; not balancing the account, as he ought to have done, in this manner :- What! though this man is a publican and a sinner, have not I my vices as well as he? "Tis true his particular office exposes him to many temptations of committing extortion and injustice; but then am not I a devourer of widows' houses, and guilty of one of the most cruel instances of the same crime? He, possibly, is a profane person, and may set religion at nought; but do not I myself for a pretence make long prayers, and bring the greatest of all scandals upon religion, by making it a cloak to my ambitious and worldly views? If he, lastly, is debauched and intemperate, am not I conscious of as corrupt and wanton dispositions; and that a fair and guarded outside is my best pretence to the opposite character?'

If a man will examine his works by a comparative view of them with others, this, no doubt, would be the fairer, and least likely to mislead him. But this is seldom the method this trial has gone through; in fact, it generally turns out to be as treacherous and delusive to the man himself as it is uncandid to the man who is dragged into the comparison; and whoever judges of himself by this rule, so long as there is no scarcity of vicious characters in the world, 'tis to be feared he will often take the occasions of triumph and rejoicing, where in truth he ought rather to be sorry and ashamed.

A third error in the manner of proving our works is what we are guilty of when we leave out of the calculation the only material parts of them; I mean the motives and first principles whence they proceeded. There is many a fair instance of generosity, chastity, and self-denial, which the world may give a man the credit of; which, if he would give himself the leisure to reflect upon, and trace back to their first springs, he would be conscious proceeded from such views and intentions as, if known, would not be to his honour. The truth of this may be made evident by a thousand instances in life; and yet there is nothing more usual than for a man, when he is going upon this duty of self-examination, instead of calling his own ways to remembrance, to close the whole inquiry at once with this short challenge,- That he defies the world to say ill of him.' If the world has no express evidence, this indeed may be an argument of his good luck; but no satisfactory one of the real goodness and innocence of his life. A man may be a very bad man, and yet through caution, through deep-laid policy and design, may so guard all outward appearances as never to want this negative testimony on his side,

That the world knows no evil of him,'-how little soever he deserves it. Of all assays upon a man's self, this may be said to be the slightest; this method of proving the goodness of our works differing but little in kind from that

unhappy one which many unwary people take in proving the goodness of their coin; who, if it happen to be suspicious, instead of bringing it either to the balance or the touchstone to try its worth, they ignorantly go forth and try if they can pass it upon the world: if so, all is well, and they are saved all the expense and pains of inquiring after and detecting the cheat.

of God which they pretend to, and whose operations (if you trust them) are so sensibly felt in their hearts and souls, as to render at once all other proofs of their works needless to themselves. This, I own, is one of the most summary ways of proceeding in this duty of selfexamination; and as it proves a man's works in the gross, it saves him a world of sober thought and inquiry after many vexatious particulars.

Indeed, if the premises were true, the infer ence is direct; for when a man dreams of these inward workings, and wakes with the impression of them strong upon his brain, 'tis not strange he should think himself a chosen vessel, sanctified within, and sealed up unto the perfect day of redemption; and so long as such an one is led captive by this error, there is nothing in nature to induce him to this duty of examining his own works in the sense of the prophet; for, however bad they are, so long as his credulity and enthusiasm equal them, 'tis impossible they should disturb his conscience, or frighten him into a reformation. These are some of the unhappy mistakes in the many methods this work is set about, which in a great measure rob us of the fruits we expected, and sometimes so en

A fourth error in this duty of examination of men's works is that of committing the task to others; an error into which thousands of wellmeaning creatures are ensnared in the Romish Church by her doctrines of auricular confession, of works of supererogation, and the many lucrative practices raised upon that capital stock, the trade of which is carried to such a height in Popish countries, that if you were at Rome or Naples now, and was disposed, in compliance with the apostle's exhortation in the text, to set about this duty, to prove your own works, 'tis great odds whether you would be suffered to do it yourself, without interruption: and you might be said to have escaped well if the first person you consulted upon it did not talk you out of your resolution, and possibly your senses too at the same time. Prove your works! for Heaven's sake, desist from so rash an under-tirely blast them, that we are neither the better taking! What! trust your own skill and judgment in a matter of so much difficulty and importance, when there are so many whose business it is, who understand it so well, and who can do it for you with so much safety and advantage!

If your works must be proved, you would be advised by all means to send them to undergo this operation with some one who knows what he is about; either some expert and noted confessor of the church, or to some convent, or religious society, who are in possession of a large stock of good works of all kinds, wrought up by saints and confessors, where you may suit yourself, and either get the defects of your own supplied, or be accommodated with new ones ready proved to your hands, sealed, and certified to be so by the Pope's commissary and the notaries of his ecclesiastic court. There needs little more to lay open this fatal error than barely to represent it; so I shall only add a short remark: that they who are persuaded to be thus virtuous by proxy, and will prove the goodness of their works only by deputies, will have no reason to complain against God's justice, if he suffers them to go to heaven only in the same manner-that is, by deputies too.

The last mistake which I shall have time to mention is that which the Methodists have revived; and it is no other error than one which has misled thousands before these days, wherever enthusiasm had got footing; and that is, attempting to prove their works by that very argument which is the greatest proof of their weakness and superstition,-I mean that extraordinary impulse and intercourse with the Spirit

nor wiser for all the pains we have taken.

There are many other false steps which lead us the same way; but the delineation of these, however, may serve at present not only as so many landmarks to guard us from this dangerous coast which I have described, but to direct us likewise into that safe one where we can only expect the reward the gospel promises; for if, according to the first recited causes, a man fails in examining his works, from a disinclination to reform them,-from partiality of comparisons, from flattery to his own motives, and a vain dependence upon the opinion of the world,—the conclusion is unavoidable, that he must search for the qualities the most opposite to these for his conductors; and if he hopes to discharge this work so as to have advantage from it, that he must set out upon the principles of an honest head, willing to reform itself, and attached principally to that object, without regard to the spiritual condition of others, or the misguided opinions which the world may have of himself.

That for this end he must call his own ways to remembrance, and search out his spirit,-search his actions with the same critical exactness and piercing curiosity we are wont to sit in judg ment upon others; varnishing nothing, and disguising nothing. If he proceeds thus, and in every relation of life takes a full view of himself without prejudice-traces his actions to their principles without mercy, and looks into the dark corners and recesses of his heart without fear; and if upon such an inquiry he acts consistent with his view in it, by reforming his errors, separating the dross, and purify

[ocr errors]

ing the whole mass with repentance, this will bid fair for examining a man's works in the Apostle's sense; and whoever discharges the duty thus, with a view to Scripture, which is the rule in this case,-and to reason, which is the applier of this rule in all cases,-need not fear but he will have what the prophet calls 'rejoicing in himself,' and that he will lay the foundation of his peace and comfort where it ought to lie,—that is, within himself,-in the testimony of a good conscience, and the joyful expectation that, having done his most to examine his own works here, God will accept them hereafter, through the merits of Christ; which God grant! Amen.

XV.-JOB'S EXPOSTULATION WITH HIS

WIFE.

to blaspheme; and consequently that the whole is rather to be considered as a sarcastical scoff at Job's piety,—as if it had been said, 'Go to, bless God, and die; since thou art so ready to praise him in troubles as thou hast done, go on in thy own way, and see how God will reward thee by a miserable death, which thou canst not avoid.'

Without disputing the merit of these two interpretations, it may not seem an improbable conjecture that the words imply something still different from what is expressed in either of them; and instead of supposing them as an incitement to blaspheme God, which was madness, or that they were intended as an insult, which was unnatural,-that her advice to curse God and die was meant here that he should resolve upon a voluntary death himself, which was an act not only in his own power, but what carried some appearance of a remedy with it,

What? Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and and promised, at least at first sight, some re

shall we not receive evil also?'-JOB II. 10.

spite from pain, as it would put an end to his life and his misfortunes together.

One may suppose that, with all the concern and affection which was natural, she beheld her lord afflicted both with poverty and sickness : by one sudden blow, brought down from his palace to the dunghill: in one mournful day she saw that not only the fortunes of his house were blasted, but likewise the hopes of his posterity cut off for ever by the untimely loss of his children. She knew he was a virtuous and an upright man, and deserved a better fate :

her heart bled the more for him. She saw the prospect before him was dreadful; that there appeared no possible means which could retrieve the sad situation of his affairs; that death-the last, the surest friend to the unfor

THESE are the words of Job, uttered in the depth of his misfortunes, by way of reproof to his wife for the counsel we find she had given him in the foregoing versc-namely, not to retain his integrity any longer, but to 'curse God and die.' Though it is not very evident what was particularly meant and implied in the words curse God and die,' yet it is certain, from Job's reply to them, that they directed him to some step which was rash and unwarrantable; and probably, as it is generally explained, meant that he should openly call God's justice to an account, and, by a blasphemous accusation of it, provoke God to destroy his being: as if she had said, 'After so many sad things which have befallen thee, notwithstanding thy integ-tunate-could only set him free; and that it rity, what gainest thou by serving God, seeing he bears thus hard upon thee, as though thou wast his enemy? Ought so faithful a servant as thou hast been to receive so much unkind treatment at his hands, and tamely to submit to it?-patiently to sustain the evils he has brought upon thy house, and neither murmur with thy lips, nor charge him with injustice? Bear it not thus; and as thy piety could not at first protect thee from such misfortunes, nor thy behaviour under them could since move God to take pity on thee, change thy conduct towards him-boldly expostulate with him-up--leave it,-die, and force thy passage into a braid him openly with unkindness-call his justice and providence to an account for oppressing thee in so undeserved a manner; and get that benefit, by provoking him, which thou hast not been able to obtain by serving him, to die at once by his hands, and be freed at least from the greater misery of a lingering and more tormenting death.'

On the other hand, some interpreters tell us that the word curse in the original is equivocal, and does more literally signify here to bless than

was better to resolve upon that at once, than vainly endeavour to wade through such a sca of troubles, which in the end would overwhelm him. We may suppose her spirits sinking under those apprehensions, when she began to look upon his constancy as a fruitless virtue, and from that persuasion to have said unto him,-Curse God; depend no longer upon him, nor wait the issues of his providence, which has already forsaken thee: as there is no help from that quarter, resolve to extricate thyself; and since thou hast met with no justice in this world,

better country, where misfortunes cannot follow thee.

Whether this paraphrase upon the words is just, or the former interpretations be admitted, the reply in the text is equally proper.-What? Shall we receive good at the hands of God, and shall we not receive evil also? Are not both alike the dispensations of an all-wise and good Being, who knows and determines what is best! and wherefore should I make myself the judge, to receive the one, and yet be so partial as to

reject the other, when, by fairly putting both into the scale, I may be convinced how much the good outweighs the evil in all cases? In my own, consider how strong this argument is against me.

In the beginning of my days, how did God crown me with honour! In how remarkable a manner did his providence set a hedge about me, and about all that I had on every side!— how he prospered the works of my hand, so that our substance and happiness increased every day!

And now, when for reasons best known to his infinite wisdom, he has thought fit to try me with afflictions, shall I rebel against him, in sinning with my lips, and charging him foolishly? God forbid! Oh, rather may I look up towards that hand which has bruised me, for he maketh | sore, and he bindeth up; he woundeth, and his hands make whole. From his bounty only has issued all I had; from his wisdom, all I have lost; for he giveth, and he hath taken away blessed be his name!

There are few instances of particular virtue more engaging than those of this heroic cast; and if we take the testimony of a heathen philosopher upon it, there is not an object in this world which God can be supposed to look down upon with greater pleasure than that of a good man involved in misfortunes, surrounded on all sides with difficulties, yet cheerfully bearing up his head, and struggling against them with firmness and constancy of mind. Certainly to our conceptions such objects must be truly engaging; and the reason of so exalted an encomium from this hand is easily to be guessed. No doubt the wisest of the heathen philosophers had found, from observation upon the life of man, that the many troubles and infirmities of his nature, the sicknesses, disappointments, sorrows for the loss of children or property, with the numberless other calamities and cross accidents to which the life of man is subject, were in themselves so great, and so little solid comfort to be administered from the mere refinements of philosophy in such emergencies, that there was no virtue which required greater efforts, or which was found so difficult to be achieved upon moral principles-upon moral principles, which had no foundation to sustain this great weight which the infirmities of our nature laid upon it; and, for this reason, 'tis observable that there is no subject upon which the moral writers of antiquity have exhausted so much of their eloquence, or where they have spent such time and pains, as in this, of endeavouring to reconcile men to these evils; insomuch that thence, in most modern languages, the patient enduring of affliction has by degrees obtained the name of Philosophy, and almost monopolized the word to itself, as if it was the chief end or compendium of all the wisdom which

philosophy had to offer. And, indeed, consider.
ing what lights they had, some of them wrote
exceedingly well; yet, as what they said pro-
ceeded more from the head than the heart,
'twas generally more calculated to silence a
man in his troubles than to convince and teach
him how to bear them; and therefore, how-
ever subtle and ingenious their arguments
might appear in the reading, 'tis to be feared
they lost much of their efficacy when tried in
the application. If a man was thrust back in
the world by disappointments, or, as was Job's
case, had suffered a sudden change in his for-
tunes,-from an affluent condition was brought
down by a train of cruel accidents, and pinched
with poverty,-philosophy would come in, and
exhort him to stand his ground; it would
tell him that the same greatness and strength
of mind which enable him to behave well in
the days of his prosperity, should equally enable
him to behave well in the days of his adversity;
that it was the property of only weak and
base spirits, who were insolent in the one, to
be dejected and overthrown by the other;
whereas great and generous souls were at all
times calm and equal: as they enjoyed the
advantages of life with indifference, they were
able to resign them with the same temper, and
consequently were out of the reach of fortune.
All which, however fine, and likely to satisfy
the fancy of a man at ease, could convey but
little consolation to a heart already pierced
with sorrow; nor is it to be conceived how an
unfortunate creature should any more receive
relief from such a lecture, however just, than
a man racked with an acute fit of the gout or
stone could be supposed to be set free from
torture by hearing from his physician a nice
dissertation upon his case. The philosophic
consolations in sickness, or in afflictions for the
death of friends and kindred, were just as
efficacious, and were rather, in general, to be
considered as good sayings than good remedies;
so that if a man was bereaved of a promised
child, in whom all his hopes and expectations
centred, or a wife was left destitute to mourn
the loss and protection of a kind and tender i
husband, Seneca or Epictetus would tell the
pensive parent and disconsolate widow that
tears and lamentations for the dead were fruit-
less and absurd!--that to die was the necessary
and unavoidable debt of nature; and, as it
could admit of no remedy, 'twas impious and
foolish to grieve and fret themselves upon it.
Upon such sage counsel, as well as many other
lessons of the same stamp, the same reflection
might be applied, which is said to have been
made by one of the Roman emperors to one
who administered the same consolations to him
on a like occasion; to whom, advising him to
be comforted and make himself easy, since the
event had been brought about by fatality, and
could not be helped, he replied,-"That this was

« ElőzőTovább »