But here I would not be misunderstood; perhaps there is not a word more
abused than that of the poor, or wherein the world is more generally
mistaken. Among the number of those who beg in our streets, or are
half-starved at home, or languish in prison for debt, there is hardly
one in a hundred who doth not owe his misfortunes to his own laziness,
or drunkenness, or worse vices.

To these he owes those very diseases which often disable him from
getting his bread. Such wretches are deservedly unhappy: They can only
blame themselves; and when we are commanded to have pity on the poor,
these are not understood to be of the number.

It is true, indeed, that sometimes honest, endeavouring men are reduced
to extreme want, even to the begging of alms, by losses, by accidents,
by diseases, and old age, without any fault of their own: But these are
very few in comparison of the other; nor would their support be any
sensible burthen to the public, if the charity of well-disposed persons
were not intercepted by those common strollers, who are most
importunate, and who least deserve it. These, indeed, are properly and
justly called the poor, whom it should be our study to find out and
distinguish, by making them partake, of our superfluity and abundance.

But neither have these anything to do with my present subject; For, by
the poor, I only intend the honest, industrious artificer, the meaner
sort of tradesmen, and the labouring man, who getteth his bread by the
sweat of his brows, in town or country, and who make the bulk of mankind
among us.

_First_: I shall therefore shew, first, that the poor (in the sense I
understand the word) do enjoy many temporal blessings, which are not
common to the rich and great; and likewise, that the rich and great are
subject to many temporal evils, which are not common to the poor.

_Secondly_: From the arguments offered to prove the foregoing head, I
shall draw some observations that may be useful for your practice.

I. As to the first: Health, we know, is generally allowed to be the best
of all earthly possessions, because it is that, without which we can
have no satisfaction in any of the rest. For riches are of no use, if
sickness taketh from us the ability of enjoying them, and power and
greatness are then only a burthen. Now, if we would look for health, it
must be in the humble habitation of the labouring man, or industrious
artificer, who earn their bread by the sweat of their brows, and usually
live to a good old age, with a great degree of strength and vigour.

The refreshment of the body by sleep is another great happiness of the
meaner sort. Their rest is not disturbed by the fear of thieves and
robbers, nor is it interrupted by surfeits of intemperance. Labour and
plain food supply the want of quieting draughts; and the wise man
telleth us, that the sleep of the labouring man is sweet. As to
children, which are certainly accounted of as a blessing, even to the
poor, where industry is not wanting; they are an assistance to honest
parents, instead of being a burthen; they are healthy and strong, and
fit for labour; neither is the father in fear, lest his heir should be
ruined by an unequal match: Nor is he solicitous about his rising in the
world, farther than to be able to get his bread.

The poorer sort are not the objects of general hatred or envy; they have
no twinges of ambition, nor trouble themselves with party quarrels, or
state divisions. The idle rabble, who follow their ambitious leaders in
such cases, do not fall within my description of the poorer sort; for,
it is plain, I mean only the honest industrious poor in town or
country, who are safest in times of public disturbance, in perilous
seasons, and public revolutions, if they will be quiet, and do their
business; for artificers and husbandmen are necessary in all
governments: But in such seasons, the rich are the public mark, because
they are oftentimes of no use, but to be plundered; like some sort of
birds, who are good for nothing, but their feathers; and so fall a prey
to the strongest side.

Let us proceed, on the other side to examine the disadvantages which the
rich and the great lie under, with respect to the happiness of the
present life.

First, then; While health, as we have said, is the general portion of
the lower sort, the gout, the dropsy, the stone, the cholic, and all
other diseases, are continually haunting the palaces of the rich and the
great, as the natural attendants upon laziness and luxury. Neither does
the rich man eat his sumptuous fare with half the appetite and relish,
that even the beggars do the crumbs which fall from his table: But, on
the contrary, he is full of loathing and disgust, or at best of
indifference, in the midst of plenty. Thus their intemperance shortens
their lives, without pleasing their appetites.

Business, fear, guilt, design, anguish, and vexation are continually
buzzing about the curtains of the rich and the powerful, and will hardly
suffer them to close their eyes, unless when they are dosed with the
fumes of strong liquors.

It is a great mistake to imagine that the rich want but few things;
their wants are more numerous, more craving, and urgent, than those of
poorer men: For these endeavour only at the necessaries of life, which
make them happy, and they think no farther: But the desire of power and
wealth is endless, and therefore impossible to be satisfied with any
acquisitions.

If riches were so great a blessing as they are commonly thought, they
would at least have this advantage, to give their owners cheerful hearts
and countenances; they would often stir them up to express their
thankfulness to God, and discover their satisfaction to the world. But,
in fact, the contrary to all this is true. For where are there more
cloudy brows, more melancholy hearts, or more ingratitude to their great
Benefactor, than among those who abound in wealth? And, indeed, it is
natural that it should be so, because those men, who covet things that
are hard to be got, must be hard to please; whereas a small thing maketh
a poor man happy, and great losses cannot befall him.

It is likewise worth considering, how few among the rich have procured
their wealth by just measures; how many owe their fortunes to the sins
of their parents, how many more to their own? If men's titles were to be
tried before a true court of conscience, where false swearing, and a
thousand vile artifices, (that are well known, and can hardly be avoided
in human courts of justice) would avail nothing; how many would be
ejected with infamy and disgrace? How many grow considerable by breach
of trust, by bribery and corruption? How many have sold their religion,
with the rights and liberties of themselves and others, for power and
employments?

And, it is a mistake to think, that the most hardened sinner, who oweth
his possessions or titles to any such wicked arts of thieving, can have
true peace of mind, under the reproaches of a guilty conscience, and
amid the cries of ruined widows and orphans.

I know not one real advantage that the rich have over the poor, except
the power of doing good to others. But this is an advantage which God
hath not given wicked men the grace to make use of. The wealth acquired
by evil means was never employed to good ends; for that would be to
divide the kingdom of Satan against itself. Whatever hath been gained by
fraud, avarice, oppression, and the like, must be preserved and
increased by the same methods.

I shall add but one thing more upon this head, which I hope will
convince you, that God (whose thoughts are not as our thoughts) never
intended riches or power to be necessary for the happiness of mankind in
this life; because it is certain, that there is not one single good
quality of the mind absolutely necessary to obtain them, where men are
resolved to be rich at any rate; neither honour, justice, temperance,
wisdom, religion, truth, or learning; for a slight acquaintance of the
world will inform us, that there have been many instances of men, in all
ages, who have arrived at great possessions and great dignities, by
cunning, fraud, or flattery, without any of these, or any other virtues
that can be named. Now, if riches and greatness were such blessings,
that good men without them could not have their share of happiness in
this life; how cometh it to pass, that God should suffer them to be
often dealt to the worst, and most profligate of mankind; that they
should be generally procured by the most abominable means, and applied
to the basest and most wicked uses? This ought not to be conceived of a
just, a merciful, a wise, and Almighty Being. We must therefore
conclude, that wealth and power are in their own nature, at best, but
things indifferent, and that a good man may be equally happy without
them, provided that he hath a sufficiency of the common blessings of
human life to answer all the reasonable and virtuous demands of nature,
which his industry will provide, and sobriety will prevent his wanting.
Agur's prayer, with the reasons of his wish, are full to this purpose:
"Give me neither poverty nor riches. Feed me with food convenient for
me; lest I be full and deny thee, and say, 'Who is the Lord?' Or, lest I
be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain."

From what hath been said, I shall, in the second place, offer some
considerations, that may be useful for your practice.

And here I shall apply myself chiefly to those of the lower sort, for
whose comfort and satisfaction this discourse is principally intended.
For, having observed the great sin of those, who do not abound in
wealth, to be that of murmuring and repining, that God hath dealt his
blessings unequally to the sons of men, I thought it would be of great
use to remove out of your minds so false and wicked an opinion, by
shewing that your condition is really happier than most of you imagine.

_First:_ Therefore, it hath been always agreed in the world, that the
present happiness of mankind consisted in the ease of our body and the
quiet of our mind; but, from what has been already said, it plainly
appears, that neither wealth nor power do in any sort contribute to
either of these two blessings. If, on the contrary, by multiplying our
desires, they increase our discontents; if they destroy our health, gall
us with painful diseases, and shorten our life; if they expose us to
hatred, to envy, to censure, to a thousand temptations, it is not easy
to see why a wise man should make them his choice, for their own sake,
although it were in his power. Would any of you, who are in health and
strength of body, with moderate food and raiment earned by your own
labour, rather choose to be in the rich man's bed, under the torture of
the gout, unable to take your natural rest, or natural nourishment, with
the additional load of a guilty conscience, reproaching you for
injustice, oppressions, covetousness, and fraud? No; but you would take
the riches and power, and leave behind the inconveniences that attend
them; and so would every man living. But that is more than our share,
and God never intended this world for such a place of rest as we would
make it; for the Scripture assureth us that it was only designed as a
place of trial. Nothing is more frequent, than a man to wish himself in
another's condition; yet he seldom doth it without some reserve: He
would not be so old; he would not be so sickly; he would not be so
cruel; he would not be so insolent; he would not be so vicious; he would
not be so oppressive, so griping, and so on. From whence it is plain,
that, in their own judgment, men are not so unequally dealt with, as
they would at first sight imagine: For, if I would not change my
condition with another man, without any exception or reservation at all,
I am, in reality, more happy than he.

_Secondly_: You of the meaner sort are subject to fewer temptations than
the rich; and therefore your vices are more unpardonable. Labour
subdueth your appetites to be satisfied with common things; the business
of your several callings filleth up your whole time; so that idleness,
which is the bane and destruction of virtue, doth not lead you into the
neighbourhood of sin: Your passions are cooler, by not being inflamed
with excess, and therefore the gate and the way that lead to life are
not so straight and so narrow to you, as to those who live among all the
allurements to wickedness. To serve God with the best of your care and
understanding, and to be just and true in your dealings, is the short
sum of your duty, and will be the more strictly required of you, because
nothing lieth in the way to divert you from it.

_Thirdly_: It is plain from what I have said, that you of the lower rank
have no just reason to complain of your condition: Because, as you
plainly see, it affordeth you so many advantages, and freeth you from so
many vexations, so many distempers both of body and mind, which pursue
and torment the rich and powerful.

_Fourthly_: You are to remember and apply, that the poorest person is
not excused from doing good to others, and even relieving the wants of
his distressed neighbour, according to his abilities; and if you perform
your duty in this point, you far outdo the greatest liberalities of the
rich, and will accordingly be accepted of by God, and get your reward:
For it is our Saviour's own doctrine, when the widow gave her two mites.
The rich give out of their abundance; that is to say, what they give,
they do not feel it in their way of living: But the poor man, who giveth
out of his little stock, must spare it from the necessary food and
raiment of himself and his family. And, therefore, our Saviour adds,
"That the widow gave more than all who went before her; for she gave all
she had, even all her living;" and so went home utterly unprovided to
supply her necessities.

_Lastly_: As it appeareth from what hath been said, that you in the
lower rank have, in reality, a greater share of happiness, your work of
salvation is easier, by your being liable to fewer temptations; and as
your reward in Heaven is much more certain than it is to the rich, if
you seriously perform your duty, for yours is the Kingdom of Heaven; so
your neglect of it will be less excusable, will meet with fewer
allowances from God, and will be punished with double stripes: For the
most unknowing among you cannot plead ignorance of what you have been so
early taught, I hope, so often instructed in, and which is so easy to be
understood, I mean the art of leading a life agreeable to the plain and
positive laws of God. Perhaps you may think you lie under one
disadvantage, which the great and rich have not; that idleness will
certainly reduce you to beggary; whereas those who abound in wealth lie
under no necessity either of labour or temperance to keep enough to live
on. But this is indeed one part of your happiness, that the lowness of
your condition, in a manner, forceth you to what is pleasing to God, and
necessary for your daily support. Thus your duty and interest are always
the same.

To conclude: Since our blessed Lord, instead of a rich and honourable
station in this world, was pleased to choose his lot among men of the
lower condition; let not those, on whom the bounty of Providence hath
bestowed wealth and honours, despise the men who are placed in a humble
and inferior station; but rather, with their utmost power, by their
countenance, by their protection, by just payment of their honest
labour, encourage their daily endeavours for the support of themselves
and their families. On the other hand, let the poor labour to provide
things honest in the sight of all men; and so, with diligence in their
several employments, live soberly, righteously, and godlily in this
present world, that they may obtain that glorious reward promised in the
Gospel to the poor, I mean the kingdom of Heaven.

Now, to God the Father, &c,




A SERMON ON THE CAUSES OF THE WRETCHED CONDITION OF IRELAND.[1]

[Footnote 1: This is not very properly styled a sermon; but, considered
as a political dissertation, it has great merit, and it is highly worthy
of the subject, and the author. Most of the circumstances here founded
upon, as the causes of national distress, are the subject of separate
disquisitions in those political writings connected with Ireland. But
they are here summed up, and brought into one view; and the opinions
expressed form a sort of index to the Dean's tenets upon the state of
that country. [S.]]


PSALM CXLIV. PART OF THE 14TH AND 15TH VERSES.

"That there be no complaining in our streets. Happy is the people that
is in such a case."


It is a very melancholy reflection, that such a country as ours, which
is capable of producing all things necessary, and most things convenient
for life, sufficient for the support of four times the number of its
inhabitants, should yet lie under the heaviest load of misery and want,
our streets crowded with beggars, so many of our lower sort of
tradesmen, labourers, and artificers, not able to find clothes and food
for their families.

I think it may therefore be of some use to lay before you the chief
causes of this wretched condition we are in, and then it will be easier
to assign what remedies are in our power toward removing, at least, some
part of these evils.

For it is ever to be lamented, that we lie under many disadvantages, not
by our own faults, which are peculiar to ourselves, and which no other
nation under heaven hath any reason to complain of.

I shall, therefore, first mention some causes of our miseries,--which I
doubt are not to be remedied, until God shall put it in the hearts of
those who are stronger to allow us the common rights and privileges of
brethren, fellow-subjects, and even of mankind. The first cause of our
misery is the intolerable hardships we lie under in every branch of our
trade, by which we are become as hewers of wood, and drawers of water,
to our rigorous neighbours.

The second cause of our miserable state is the folly, the vanity, and
ingratitude of those vast numbers, who think themselves too good to live
in the country which gave them birth, and still gives them bread; and
rather choose to pass their days, and consume their wealth, and draw out
the very vitals of their mother kingdom, among those who heartily
despise them.

These I have but lightly touched on, because I fear they are not to be
redressed, and, besides, I am very sensible how ready some people are to
take offence at the honest truth; and, for that reason, I shall omit
several other grievances, under which we are long likely to groan.

I shall therefore go on to relate some other causes of this nation's
poverty, by which, if they continue much longer, it must infallibly sink
to utter ruin.

The first is, that monstrous pride and vanity in both sexes, especially
the weaker sex, who, in the midst of poverty, are suffered to run into
all kind of expense and extravagance in dress, and particularly priding
themselves to wear nothing but what cometh from abroad, disdaining the
growth or manufacture of their own country, in those articles where they
can be better served at home with half the expense; and this is grown to
such a height, that they will carry the whole yearly rent of a good
estate at once on their body. And, as there is in that sex a spirit of
envy, by which they cannot endure to see others in a better habit than
themselves, so those, whose fortunes can hardly support their families
in the necessaries of life, will needs vie with the richest and greatest
amongst us, to the ruin of themselves and their posterity.

Neither are the men less guilty of this pernicious folly, who, in
imitation of a gaudiness and foppery of dress, introduced of late years
into our neighbouring kingdom, (as fools are apt to imitate only the
defects of their betters,) cannot find materials in their own country
worthy to adorn their bodies of clay, while their minds are naked of
every valuable quality.

Thus our tradesmen and shopkeepers, who deal in home goods, are left in
a starving condition, and only those encouraged who ruin the kingdom by
importing among us foreign vanities.

Another cause of our low condition is our great luxury, the chief
support of which is the materials of it brought to the nation in
exchange for the few valuable things left us, whereby so many thousand
families want the very necessaries of life.

_Thirdly_, In most parts of this kingdom the natives are from their
infancy so given up to idleness and sloth, that they often choose to beg
or steal, rather than support themselves with their own labour; they
marry without the least view or thought of being able to make any
provision for their families; and whereas, in all industrious nations,
children are looked on as a help to their parents; with us, for want of
being early trained to work, they are an intolerable burthen at home,
and a grievous charge upon the public, as appeareth from the vast number
of ragged and naked children in town and country, led about by strolling
women, trained up in ignorance and all manner of vice.

_Lastly_, A great cause of this nation's misery, is that Egyptian
bondage of cruel, oppressing, covetous landlords, expecting that all who
live under them should make bricks without straw, who grieve and envy
when they see a tenant of their own in a whole coat, or able to afford
one comfortable meal in a month, by which the spirits of the people are
broken, and made for slavery; the farmers and cottagers, almost through
the whole kingdom, being to all intents and purposes as real beggars as
any of those to whom we give our charity in the streets. And these cruel
landlords are every day unpeopling their kingdom, by forbidding their
miserable tenants to till the earth, against common reason and justice,
and contrary to the practice and prudence of all other nations, by which
numberless families have been forced either to leave the kingdom, or
stroll about, and increase the number of our thieves and beggars.

Such, and much worse, is our condition at present, if I had leisure or
liberty to lay it before you; and, therefore, the next thing which might
be considered is, whether there may be any probable remedy found, at the
least against some part of these evils; for most of them are wholly
desperate.

But this being too large a subject to be now handled, and the intent of
my discourse confining me to give some directions concerning the poor of
this city, I shall keep myself within those limits. It is indeed in the
power of the lawgivers to found a school in every parish of the kingdom,
for teaching the meaner and poorer sort of children to speak and read
the English tongue, and to provide a reasonable maintenance for the
teachers. This would, in time, abolish that part of barbarity and
ignorance, for which our natives are so despised by all foreigners: this
would bring them to think and act according to the rules of reason, by
which a spirit of industry, and thrift, and honesty would be introduced
among them. And, indeed, considering how small a tax would suffice for
such a work, it is a public scandal that such a thing should never have
been endeavoured, or, perhaps, so much as thought on.

To supply the want of such a law, several pious persons, in many parts
of this kingdom, have been prevailed on, by the great endeavours and
good example set them by the clergy, to erect charity-schools in several
parishes, to which very often the richest parishioners contribute the
least. In those schools, children are, or ought to be, trained up to
read and write, and cast accounts; and these children should, if
possible, be of honest parents, gone to decay through age, sickness, or
other unavoidable calamity, by the hand of God; not the brood of wicked
strollers; for it is by no means reasonable, that the charity of
well-inclined people should be applied to encourage the lewdness of
those profligate, abandoned women, who crowd our streets with their
borrowed or spurious issue.

In those hospitals which have good foundations and rents to support
them, whereof, to the scandal of Christianity, there are very few in
this kingdom; I say, in such hospitals, the children maintained ought to
be only of decayed citizens, and freemen, and be bred up to good trades.
But in these small-parish charity-schools which have no support, but the
casual goodwill of charitable people, I do altogether disapprove the
custom of putting the children 'prentice, except to the very meanest
trades; otherwise the poor honest citizen, who is just able to bring up
his child, and pay a small sum of money with him to a good master, is
wholly defeated, and the bastard issue, perhaps, of some beggar
preferred before him. And hence we come to be so overstocked with
'prentices and journeymen, more than our discouraged country can employ;
and, I fear, the greatest part of our thieves, pickpockets, and other
vagabonds are of this number.

Therefore, in order to make these parish charity-schools of great and
universal use, I agree with the opinion of many wise persons, that a new
turn should be given to this whole matter.

I think there is no complaint more just than what we find in almost
every family, of the folly and ignorance, the fraud and knavery, the
idleness and viciousness, the wasteful squandering temper of servants,
who are, indeed, become one of the many public grievances of the
kingdom; whereof, I believe, there are few masters that now hear me who
are not convinced by their own experience. And I am not very confident,
that more families, of all degrees, have been ruined by the corruptions
of servants, than by all other causes put together. Neither is this to
be wondered at, when we consider from what nurseries so many of them are
received into our houses. The first is the tribe of wicked boys,
wherewith most corners of this town are pestered, who haunt public
doors. These, having been born of beggars, and bred to pilfer as soon as
they can go or speak, as years come on, are employed in the lowest
offices to get themselves bread, are practised in all manner of
villainy, and when they are grown up, if they are not entertained in a
gang of thieves, are forced to seek for a service. The other nursery is
the barbarous and desert part of the country, from whence such lads come
up hither to seek their fortunes, who are bred up from the dunghill in
idleness, ignorance, lying, and thieving. From these two nurseries, I
say, a great number of our servants come to us, sufficient to corrupt
all the rest. Thus, the whole race of servants in this kingdom have
gotten so ill a reputation, that some persons from England, come over
hither into great stations, are said to have absolutely refused
admitting any servant born among us into their families. Neither can
they be justly blamed; for although it is not impossible to find an
honest native fit for a good service, yet the inquiry is too
troublesome, and the hazard too great for a stranger to attempt.

If we consider the many misfortunes that befall private families, it
will be found that servants are the causes and instruments of them all:
Are our goods embezzled, wasted and destroyed? Is our house burnt down
to the ground? It is by the sloth, the drunkenness or the villainy of
servants. Are we robbed and murdered in our beds? It is by confederacy
with our servants. Are we engaged in quarrels and misunderstandings with
our neighbours? These were all begun and inflamed by the false,
malicious tongues of our servants. Are the secrets of our families
betrayed, and evil repute spread of us? Our servants were the authors.
Do false accusers rise up against us (an evil too frequent in this
country)? They have been tampering with our servants. Do our children
discover folly, malice, pride, cruelty, revenge, undutifulness in their
words and actions? Are they seduced to lewdness or scandalous marriages?
It is all by our servants. Nay, the very mistakes, follies, blunders,
and absurdities of those in our service, are able to ruffle and
discompose the mildest nature, and are often of such consequence, as to
put whole families into confusion.

Since therefore not only our domestic peace and quiet, and the welfare
of our children, but even the very safety of our lives, reputations, and
fortunes have so great a dependence upon the choice of our servants, I
think it would well become the wisdom of the nation to make some
provision in so important an affair. But in the meantime, and, perhaps,
to better purpose, it were to be wished, that the children of both
sexes, entertained in the parish charity-schools, were bred up in such a
manner as would give them a teachable disposition, and qualify them to
learn whatever is required in any sort of service. For instance, they
should be taught to read and write, to know somewhat in casting
accounts, to understand the principles of religion, to practise
cleanliness, to get a spirit of honesty, industry, and thrift, and be
severely punished for every neglect in any of these particulars. For, it
is the misfortune of mankind, that if they are not used to be taught in
their early childhood, whereby to acquire what I call a teachable
disposition, they cannot, without great difficulty, learn the easiest
thing in the course of their lives, but are always awkward and unhandy;
their minds, as well as bodies, for want of early practice, growing
stiff and unmanageable, as we observe in the sort of gentlemen, who,
kept from school by the indulgence of their parents but a few years, are
never able to recover the time they have lost, and grow up in ignorance
and all manner of vice, whereof we have too many examples all over the
nation. But to return to what I was saying: If these charity children
were trained up in the manner I mentioned, and then bound apprentices in
the families of gentlemen and citizens, (for which a late law giveth
great encouragement) being accustomed from their first entrance to be
always learning some useful thing, [they] would learn, in a month, more
than another, without those advantages, can do in a year; and, in the
meantime, be very useful in a family, as far as their age and strength
would allow. And when such children come to years of discretion, they
will probably be a useful example to their fellow-servants, at least
they will prove a strong check upon the rest; for, I suppose, everybody
will allow, that one good, honest, diligent servant in a house may
prevent abundance of mischief in the family.

These are the reasons for which I urge this matter so strongly, and I
hope those who listen to me will consider them.

I shall now say something about that great number of poor, who, under
the name of common beggars, infest our streets, and fill our ears with
their continual cries, and craving importunity. This I shall venture to
call an unnecessary evil, brought upon us for the gross neglect, and
want of proper management, in those whose duty it is to prevent it. But
before I proceed farther, let me humbly presume to vindicate the justice
and mercy of God and His dealings with mankind. Upon this particular He
hath not dealt so hardly with His creatures as some would imagine, when
they see so many miserable objects ready to perish for want: For it
would infallibly be found, upon strict enquiry, that there is hardly one
in twenty of those miserable objects who do not owe their present
poverty to their own faults, to their present sloth and negligence, to
their indiscreet marriage without the least prospect of supporting a
family, to their foolish expensiveness, to their drunkenness, and other
vices, by which they have squandered their gettings, and contracted
diseases in their old age. And, to speak freely, is it any way
reasonable or just, that those who have denied themselves many lawful
satisfactions and conveniences of life, from a principle of conscience,
as well as prudence, that they might not be a burthen to the public,
should be charged with supporting others, who have brought themselves to
less than a morsel of bread by their idleness, extravagance, and vice?
Yet such, and no other, are far the greatest number not only in those
who beg in our streets, but even of what we call poor decayed
housekeepers, whom we are apt to pity as real objects of charity, and
distinguish them from common beggars, although, in truth, they both owe
their undoing to the same causes; only the former is either too nicely
bred to endure walking half naked in the streets, or too proud to own
their wants. For the artificer or other tradesman, who pleadeth he is
grown too old to work or look after business, and therefore expecteth
assistance as a decayed housekeeper; may we not ask him, why he did not
take care, in his youth and strength of days, to make some provision
against old age, when he saw so many examples before him of people
undone by their idleness and vicious extravagance? And to go a little
higher; whence cometh it that so many citizens and shopkeepers, of the
most creditable trade, who once made a good figure, go to decay by their
expensive pride and vanity, affecting to educate and dress their
children above their abilities, or the state of life they ought to
expect?

However, since the best of us have too many infirmities to answer for,
we ought not to be severe upon those of others; and therefore if our
brother, through grief, or sickness, or other incapacity, is not in a
condition to preserve his being, we ought to support him to the best of
our power, without reflecting over seriously on the causes that brought
him to his misery. But in order to this, and to turn our charity into
its proper channel, we ought to consider who and where those objects
are, whom it is chiefly incumbent upon us to support.

By the ancient law of this realm, still in force, every parish is
obliged to maintain its own poor, which although some may think to be
not very equal, because many parishes are very rich, and have few poor
among them, and others the contrary; yet, I think, may be justly
defended: For as to remote country parishes in the desert part of the
kingdom, the necessaries of life are there so cheap, that the infirm
poor may be provided for with little burden to the inhabitants. But in
what I am going to say, I shall confine myself only to this city, where
we are overrun not only with our own poor, but with a far greater number
from every part of the nation. Now, I say, this evil of being encumbered
with so many foreign beggars, who have not the least title to our
charity, and whom it is impossible for us to support, may be easily
remedied, if the government of this city, in conjunction with the clergy
and parish officers, would think it worth their care; and I am sure few
things deserve it better. For, if every parish would take a list of
those begging poor which properly belong to it, and compel each of them
to wear a badge, marked and numbered, so as to be seen and known by all
they meet, and confine them to beg within the limits of their own
parish, severely punishing them when they offend, and driving out all
interlopers from other parishes, we could then make a computation of
their numbers; and the strollers from the country being driven away, the
remainder would not be too many for the charity of those who pass by to
maintain; neither would any beggar, although confined to his own parish,
be hindered from receiving the charity of the whole town; because, in
this case, those well-disposed persons who walk the streets will give
their charity to such whom they think proper objects, wherever they meet
them, provided they are found in their own parishes, and wearing their
badges of distinction. And, as to those parishes which bordered upon the
skirts and suburbs of the town, where country strollers are used to
harbour themselves, they must be forced to go back to their homes, when
they find nobody to relieve them, because they want that mark which only
gives them licence to beg. Upon this point, it were to be wished, that
inferior parish officers had better encouragement given them to perform
their duty in driving away all beggars who do not belong to the parish,
instead of conniving at them, as it is said they do for some small
contribution: For the whole city would save much more by ridding
themselves of many hundred beggars, than they would lose by giving
parish officers a reasonable support.

It should seem a strange, unaccountable thing, that those who have
probably been reduced to want by riot, lewdness, and idleness, although
they have assurance enough to beg alms publicly from all they meet,
should yet be too proud to wear the parish badge, which would turn so
much to their own advantage, by ridding them of such great numbers, who
now intercept the greatest part of what belongeth to them: Yet it is
certain, that there are very many who publicly declare they will never
wear those badges, and many others who either hide or throw them away:
But the remedy for this is very short, easy, and just, by trying them
like vagabonds and sturdy beggars, and forcibly driving them out of the
town.

Therefore, as soon as this expedient of wearing badges shall be put in
practice, I do earnestly exhort all those who hear me, never to give
their alms to any public beggar who doth not fully comply with this
order, by which our number of poor will be so reduced, that it will be
much easier to provide for the rest. Our shop-doors will be no longer
crowded with so many thieves and pickpockets, in beggars' habits, nor
our streets so dangerous to those who are forced to walk in the night.

Thus I have, with great freedom, delivered my thoughts upon this
subject, which so nearly concerneth us. It is certainly a bad scheme, to
any Christian country, which God hath blessed with fruitfulness, and
where the people enjoy the just rights and privileges of mankind, that
there should be any beggars at all. But, alas! among us, where the whole
nation itself is almost reduced to beggary by the disadvantages we lie
under, and the hardships we are forced to bear; the laziness, ignorance,
thoughtlessness, squandering temper, slavish nature, and uncleanly
manner of living in the poor Popish natives, together with the cruel
oppressions of their landlords, who delight to see their vassals in the
dust; I say, that, in such a nation, how can we otherwise expect than to
be over-run with objects of misery and want? Therefore, there can be no
other method to free this city from so intolerable a grievance, than by
endeavouring, as far as in us lies, that the burthen may be more equally
divided, by contributing to maintain our own poor, and forcing the
strollers and vagabonds to return to their several homes in the country,
there to smite the conscience of those oppressors, who first stripped
them of all their substance.

I might here, if the time would permit, offer many arguments to persuade
to works of charity; but you hear them so often from the pulpit, that I
am willing to hope you may not now want them. Besides, my present design
was only to shew where your alms would be best bestowed, to the honour
of God, your own ease and advantage, the service of your country, and
the benefit of the poor. I desire you will all weigh and consider what I
have spoken, and, according to your several stations and abilities,
endeavour to put it in practice; and God give you good success. To Whom,
with the Son and Holy Ghost, be all honour, &c.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, &c.




A SERMON UPON SLEEPING IN CHURCH.


ACTS, CHAP. XX. VER. 9.

"And there sat in a window a certain young man, named _Eutychus_, being
fallen into a deep sleep; and as _Paul_ was long preaching, he sunk down
with sleep, and fell down from the third loft, and was taken up dead."


I have chosen these words with design, if possible, to disturb some part
in this audience of half an hour's sleep, for the convenience and
exercise whereof this place, at this season of the day, is very much
celebrated.

There is indeed one mortal disadvantage to which all preaching is
subject; that those who, by the wickedness of their lives, stand in
greatest need, have usually the smallest share; for either they are
absent upon the account of idleness, or spleen, or hatred to religion,
or in order to doze away the intemperance of the week; or, if they do
come, they are sure to employ their minds rather any other way, than
regarding or attending to the business of the place.

The accident which happened to this young man in the text, hath not been
sufficient to discourage his successors: But because the preachers now
in the world, however they may exceed St Paul in the art of setting men
to sleep, do extremely fall short of him in the working of miracles;
therefore men are become so cautious as to choose more safe and
convenient stations and postures for taking their repose, without hazard
of their persons; and, upon the whole matter, choose rather to trust
their destruction to a miracle, than their safety. However, this being
not the only way by which the lukewarm Christians and scorners of the
age discover their neglect and contempt of preaching, I shall enter
expressly into consideration of this matter, and order my discourse in
the following method:

_First:_ I shall produce several instances to shew the great neglect of
preaching now amongst us.

_Secondly:_ I shall reckon up some of the usual quarrels men have
against preaching.

_Thirdly:_ I shall set forth the great evil of this neglect and contempt
of preaching, and discover the real causes from whence it proceedeth.

_Lastly:_ I shall offer some remedies against this great and spreading
evil.


_First:_ I shall produce certain instances to shew the great neglect of
preaching now among us.

These may be reduced under two heads. First, men's absence from the
service of the Church; and secondly, their misbehaviour when they are
here.

The first instance of men's neglect, is in their frequent absence from
the church.

There is no excuse so trivial, that will not pass upon some men's
consciences to excuse their attendance at the public worship of God.
Some are so unfortunate as to be always indisposed on the Lord's day,
and think nothing so unwholesome as the air of a church. Others have
their affairs so oddly contrived, as to be always unluckily prevented by
business. With some it is a great mark of wit, and deep understanding,
to stay at home on Sundays. Others again discover strange fits of
laziness, that seize them, particularly on that day, and confine them to
their beds. Others are absent out of mere contempt of religion. And,
lastly, there are not a few who look upon it as a day of rest, and
therefore claim the privilege of their cattle, to keep the Sabbath by
eating, drinking, and sleeping, after the toil and labour of the week.
Now in all this the worst circumstance is, that these persons are such
whose companies are most required, and who stand most in need of a
physician.

_Secondly:_ Men's great neglect and contempt of preaching, appear by
their misbehaviour when at church.

If the audience were to be ranked under several heads according to their
behaviour, when the word of God is delivered, how small a number would
appear of those who receive it as they ought? How much of the seed then
sown would be found to fall by the way-side, upon stony ground or among
thorns? And how little good ground would there be to take it? A preacher
cannot look round from the pulpit, without observing, that some are in a
perpetual whisper, and, by their air and gesture, give occasion to
suspect, that they are in those very minutes defaming their neighbour.
Others have their eyes and imagination constantly engaged in such a
circle of objects, perhaps to gratify the most unwarrantable desires,
that they never once attend to the business of the place; the sound of
the preacher's words doth not so much as once interrupt them. Some have
their minds wandering among idle, worldly, or vicious thoughts. Some lie
at catch to ridicule whatever they hear, and with much wit and humour
provide a stock of laughter, by furnishing themselves from the pulpit.
But, of all misbehaviour, none is comparable to that of those who come
here to sleep; opium is not so stupefying to many persons as an
afternoon sermon. Perpetual custom hath so brought it about, that the
words, of whatever preacher, become only a sort of uniform sound at a
distance, than which nothing is more effectual to lull the senses. For,
that it is the very sound of the sermon which bindeth up their
faculties, is manifest from hence, because they all awake so very
regularly as soon as it ceaseth, and with much devotion receive the
blessing, dozed and besotted with indecencies I am ashamed to repeat.

I proceed, _Secondly_, to reckon up some of the usual quarrels men have
against preaching, and to shew the unreasonableness of them.

Such unwarrantable demeanour as I have described, among Christians, in
the house of God, in a solemn assembly, while their faith and duty are
explained and delivered, have put those who are guilty upon inventing
some excuses to extenuate their fault: This they do by turning the blame
either upon the particular preacher, or upon preaching in general.
First, they object against the particular preacher; his manner, his
delivery, his voice are disagreeable, his style and expression are flat
and low; sometimes improper and absurd; the matter is heavy, trivial and
insipid; sometimes despicable, and perfectly ridiculous; or else, on the
other side, he runs up into unintelligible speculation, empty notions,
and abstracted flights, all clad in words above usual understandings.

Secondly, They object against preaching in general; it is a perfect road
of talk; they know already whatever can be said; they have heard the
same an hundred times over. They quarrel that preachers do not relieve
an old beaten subject with wit and invention; and that now the art is
lost of moving men's passions, so common among the ancient orators of
Greece and Rome. These, and the like objections, are frequently in the
mouths of men who despise the "foolishness of preaching." But let us
examine the reasonableness of them.

The doctrine delivered by all preachers is the same: "So we preach, and
so ye believe:" But the manner of delivering is suited to the skill and
abilities of each, which differ in preachers just as in the rest of
mankind. However, in personal dislikes of a particular preacher, are
these men sure they are always in the right? Do they consider how mixed
a thing is every audience, whose taste and judgment differ, perhaps,
every day, not only from each other, but themselves? And how to
calculate a discourse, that shall exactly suit them all, is beyond the
force and reach of human reason, knowledge, or invention. Wit and
eloquence are shining qualities, that God hath imparted, in great
degrees, to very few, nor any more to be expected, in the generality of
any rank among men, than riches and honour. But further: If preaching in
general be all old and beaten, and that they are already so well
acquainted with it, more shame and guilt to them who so little edify by
it. But these men, whose ears are so delicate as not to endure a plain
discourse of religion, who expect a constant supply of wit and eloquence
on a subject handled so many thousand times; what will they say when we
turn the objection upon themselves, who, with all the rude and profane
liberty of discourse they take, upon so many thousand subjects, are so
dull as to furnish nothing but tedious repetitions, and little paltry,
nauseous common-places, so vulgar, so worn, or so obvious, as, upon any
other occasion, but that of advancing vice, would be hooted off the
stage? Nor, lastly, are preachers justly blamed for neglecting human
oratory to move the passions, which is not the business of a Christian
orator, whose office it is only to work upon faith and reason. All other
eloquence hath been a perfect cheat, to stir up men's passions against
truth and justice, for the service of a faction, to put false colours
upon things, and by an amusement of agreeable words, make the worse
reason appear to be the better. This is certainly not to be allowed in
Christian eloquence, and, therefore, St Paul took quite the other
course; he "came not with excellency of words, or enticing speech of
men's wisdom, but in plain evidence of the Spirit and power." And
perhaps it was for that reason the young man Eutychus, used to the
Grecian eloquence, grew tired and fell so fast asleep.

I go on, _Thirdly_, to set forth the great evil of this neglect and
scorn of preaching, and to discover the real causes from whence it
proceedeth.

I think it is obvious,[1] that this neglect of preaching hath very much
occasioned the great decay of religion among us. To this may be imputed
no small part of that contempt some men bestow on the clergy; for,
whoever talketh without being regarded, is sure to be despised. To this
we owe, in a great measure, the spreading of atheism and infidelity
among us; for religion, like all other things, is soonest put out of
countenance by being ridiculed. The scorn of preaching might perhaps
have been at first introduced by men of nice ears and refined taste; but
it is now become a spreading evil, through all degrees, and both sexes;
for, since sleeping, talking, and laughing are qualities sufficient to
furnish out a critic, the meanest and most ignorant have set up a title,
and succeeded in it as well as their betters. Thus are the last efforts
of reforming mankind rendered wholly useless: "How shall they hear,"
saith the apostle, "without a preacher?" But, if they have a preacher,
and make it a point of wit or breeding not to hear him, what remedy is
left? To this neglect of preaching, we may also entirely impute that
gross ignorance among us in the very principles of religion, which it is
amazing to find in persons who very much value their own knowledge and
understanding in other things; yet, it is a visible, inexcusable
ignorance, even in the meanest among us, considering the many advantages
they have of learning their duty. And it hath been the great
encouragement to all manner of vice: For, in vain we preach down sin to
a people, "whose hearts are waxed gross, whose ears are dull of hearing,
and whose eyes are closed." Therefore Christ Himself, in His discourses,
frequently rouseth up the attention of the multitude, and of His
disciples themselves, with this expression, "He that hath ears to hear,
let him hear." But, among all neglects of preaching, none is so fatal as
that of sleeping in the house of God; a scorner may listen to truth and
reason, and in time grow serious; an unbeliever may feel the pangs of a
guilty conscience; one whose thoughts or eyes wander among other
objects, may, by a lucky word, be called back to attention: But the
sleeper shuts up all avenues to his soul: He is "like the deaf adder,
that hearkeneth not to the voice of the charmer, charm he never so
wisely." And, we may preach with as good success to the grave that is
under his feet.