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Title: Three Sermons, Three Prayer

Author: Jonathan Swift

Release Date: , 2000  [EBook #4738]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on March 10, 2002]

Edition: 10

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Transcribed by Stephen Rice.  Additional proofing by David Price, email
ccx074@coventry.ac.uk.  From the 1889 George Routledge and Sons "Tale of
a Tub and Other Works" edition.



THREE SERMONS AND PRAYERS BY JONATHAN SWIFT




Contents:
   On Mutual Subjection
   On Sleeping in Church
   On the Wisdom of this World
   Prayers used by the Dean for Stella



ON MUTUAL SUBJECTION {1}--(First Printed in 1744)



"Yea, all of you be subject one to another."--I Peter v. 5

The Apostle having, in many parts of this Epistle, given directions
to Christians concerning the duty of subjection or obedience to
superiors, in the several instances of the subject to the prince,
the child to his parent, the servant to his master, the wife to her
husband, and the younger to the elder, doth here, in the words of my
text, sum up the whole by advancing a point of doctrine, which at
first may appear a little extraordinary.  "Yea, all of you," saith
he, "be subject one to another."  For it should seem that two
persons cannot properly be said to be subject to each other, and
that subjection is only due from inferiors to those above them; yet
St. Paul hath several passages to the same purpose.  For he exhorts
the Romans "in honour to prefer one another;" and the Philippians,
"that in lowliness of mind they should each esteem other better than
themselves;" and the Ephesians, "that they should submit themselves
one to another in the fear of the Lord."  Here we find these two
great Apostles recommending to all Christians this duty of mutual
subjection.  For we may observe, by St. Peter, that having mentioned
the several relations which men bear to each other, as governor and
subject, master and servant, and the rest which I have already
repeated, he makes no exception, but sums up the whole with
commanding "all to be subject one to another."  Whence we may
conclude that this subjection due from all men to all men is
something more than the compliment of course, when our betters are
pleased to tell us they are our humble servants, but understand us
to be their slaves.

I know very well that some of those who explain this text apply it
to humility, to the duties of charity, to private exhortations, and
to bearing with each other's infirmities; and it is probable the
Apostle may have had a regard to all these.  But, however, many
learned men agree that there is something more understood, and so
the words in their plain natural meaning must import, as you will
observe yourselves if you read them with the beginning of the verse,
which is thus:  "Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the
elder; yea, all of you be subject one to another."  So that, upon
the whole, there must be some kind of subjection due from every man
to every man, which cannot be made void by any power, pre-eminence,
or authority whatsoever.  Now what sort of subjection this is, and
how it ought to be paid, shall be the subject of my present
discourse.

As God hath contrived all the works of Nature to be useful, and in
some manner a support to each other, by which the whole frame of the
world, under His providence, is preserved and kept up, so among
mankind our particular stations are appointed to each of us by God
Almighty, wherein we are obliged to act as far as our power reacheth
toward the good of the whole community.  And he who doth not perform
that part assigned him towards advancing the benefit of the whole,
in proportion to his opportunities and abilities, is not only a
useless, but a very mischievous member of the public; because he
takes his share of the profit, and yet leaves his share of the
burden to be borne by others, which is the true principal cause of
most miseries and misfortunes in life.  For a wise man who does not
assist with his counsels, a great man with his protection, a rich
man with his bounty and charity, and a poor man with his labour, are
perfect nuisances in a commonwealth.  Neither is any condition of
life more honourable in the sight of God than another; otherwise He
would be a respecter of persons, which He assures us He is not; for
He hath proposed the same salvation to all men, and hath only placed
them in different ways or stations to work it out.  Princes are born
with no more advantages of strength or wisdom than other men, and,
by an unhappy education, are usually more defective in both than
thousands of their subjects.  They depend for every necessary of
life upon the meanest of their people; besides, obedience and
subjection were never enjoined by God to humour the passions, lusts,
and vanities of those who demand them from us; but we are commanded
to obey our governors, because disobedience would breed seditions in
the state.  Thus servants are directed to obey their masters,
children their parents, and wives their husbands, not from any
respect of persons in God, but because otherwise there would be
nothing but confusion in private families.  This matter will be
clearly explained by considering the comparison which St. Paul makes
between the Church of Christ and the body of man; for the same
resemblance will hold not only to families and kingdoms, but to the
whole corporation of mankind.  "The eye," saith he, "cannot say unto
the hand, 'I have no need of thee;' nor again the hand to the foot,
'I have no need of thee.'  Nay, much more those members of the body
which seem to be more feeble are necessary; and whether one member
suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured,
all the members rejoice with it."  The case is directly the same
among mankind.  The prince cannot say to the merchant, "I have no
need of thee," nor the merchant to the labourer, "I have no need of
thee."  Nay, much more those members which seem to be more feeble
are necessary; for the poor are generally more necessary members of
the commonwealth than the rich; which clearly shows that God never
intended such possessions for the sake and service of those to whom
He lends them, but because he hath assigned every man his particular
station to be useful in life, and this for the reason given by the
Apostle, "that there may be no schism in the body."

From hence may partly be gathered the nature of that subjection
which we all owe to one another.  God Almighty hath been pleased to
put us into an imperfect state, where we have perpetual occasion of
each other's assistance.  There is none so low as not to be in a
capacity of assisting the highest, nor so high as not to want the
assistance of the lowest.

It plainly appears, from what hath been said, that no one human
creature is more worthy than another in the sight of God, further
than according to the goodness or holiness of their lives; and that
power, wealth, and the like outward advantages, are so far from
being the marks of God's approving or preferring those on whom they
are bestowed, that, on the contrary, He is pleased to suffer them to
be almost engrossed by those who have least title to His favour.
Now, according to this equality wherein God hath placed all mankind
with relation to Himself, you will observe that in all the relations
between man and man there is a mutual dependence, whereby the one
cannot subsist without the other.  Thus no man can be a prince
without subjects, nor a master without servants, nor a father
without children.  And this both explains and confirms the doctrine
of the text; for where there is a mutual dependence there must be a
mutual duty, and consequently a mutual subjection.  For instance,
the subject must obey his prince, because God commands it, human
laws require it, and the safety of the public makes it necessary;
for the same reasons we must obey all that are in authority, and
submit ourselves not only to the good and gentle, but also to the
froward, whether they rule according to our liking or not.  On the
other side, in those countries that pretend to freedom, princes are
subject to those laws which their people have chosen; they are bound
to protect their subjects in liberty, property, and religion, to
receive their petitions and redress their grievances, so that the
best prince is, in the opinion of wise men, only the greatest
servant of the nation--not only a servant to the public in general,
but in some sort to every man in it.  In the like manner a servant
owes obedience, and diligence, and faithfulness to his master, from
whom, at the same time, he hath a just demand for protection, and
maintenance, and gentle treatment.  Nay, even the poor beggar hath a
just demand of an alms from the rich man, who is guilty of fraud,
injustice, and oppression if he does not afford relief according to
his abilities.

But this subjection we all owe one another is nowhere more necessary
than in the common conversations of life, for without it there could
be no society among men.  If the learned would not sometimes submit
to the ignorant, the wise to the simple, the gentle to the froward,
the old to the weaknesses of the young, there would be nothing but
everlasting variance in the world.  This our Saviour Himself
confirmed by His own example; for He appeared in the form of a
servant and washed His disciples' feet, adding those memorable
words, "Ye call me Lord and Master, and ye say well, for so I am.
If I then, your Lord and Master, wash your feet, how much more ought
ye to wash one another's feet?"  Under which expression of washing
the feet is included all that subjection, assistance, love, and
duty, which every good Christian ought to pay his brother, in
whatever station God hath placed him.  For the greatest prince and
the meanest slave are not, by infinite degrees, so distant as our
Saviour and those disciples, whose feet He vouchsafed to wash.

And although this doctrine of subjecting ourselves to one another
may seem to grate upon the pride and vanity of mankind, and may
therefore be hard to be digested by those who value themselves upon
their greatness or their wealth, yet it is really no more than what
most men practise upon other occasions.  For if our neighbour, who
is our inferior, comes to see us, we rise to receive him; we place
him above us, and respect him as if he were better than ourselves;
and this is thought both decent and necessary, and is usually called
good manners.  Now the duty required by the Apostle is only that we
should enlarge our minds, and that what we thus practise in the
common course of life we should imitate in all our actions and
proceedings whatsoever; since our Saviour tells us that every man is
our neighbour, and since we are so ready, in point of civility, to
yield to others in our own houses, where only we have any title to
govern.

Having thus shown you what sort of subjection it is which all men
owe one another, and in what manner it ought to be paid, I shall now
draw some observations from what hath been said.

And first, a thorough practice of this duty of subjecting ourselves
to the wants and infirmities of each other would utterly extinguish
in us the vice of pride.

For if God has pleased to intrust me with a talent, not for my own
sake, but for the service of others, and at the same time hath left
me full of wants and necessities which others must supply, I can
then have no cause to set any extraordinary value upon myself, or to
despise my brother because he hath not the same talents which were
lent to me.  His being may probably be as useful to the public as
mine; and therefore, by the rules of right reason, I am in no sort
preferable to him.

Secondly, It is very manifest, from what has been said, that no man
ought to look upon the advantages of life, such as riches, honour,
power, and the like, as his property, but merely as a trust which
God hath deposited with him to be employed for the use of his
brethren, and God will certainly punish the breach of that trust,
though the laws of man will not, or rather indeed cannot; because
the trust was conferred only by God, who has not left it to any
power on earth to decide infallibly whether a man makes a good use
of his talents or not, or to punish him where he fails.  And
therefore God seems to have more particularly taken this matter into
His own hands, and will most certainly reward or punish us in
proportion to our good or ill performance in it.  Now, although the
advantages which one possesseth more than another may, in some
sense, be called his property with respect to other men, yet with
respect to God they are, as I said, only a trust, which will plainly
appear from hence:  if a man does not use those advantages to the
good of the public or the benefit of his neighbour, it is certain he
doth not deserve them, and consequently that God never intended them
for a blessing to him; and on the other side, whoever does employ
his talents as he ought will find, by his own experience, that they
were chiefly lent him for the service of others, for to the service
of others he will certainly employ them.

Thirdly, If we could all be brought to practise this duty of
subjecting ourselves to each other, it would very much contribute to
the general happiness of mankind, for this would root out envy and
malice from the heart of man; because you cannot envy your
neighbour's strength if he make use of it to defend your life or
carry your burden; you cannot envy his wisdom if he gives you good
counsel; nor his riches if he supplies your wants; nor his greatness
if he employs it to your protection.  The miseries of life are not
properly owing to the unequal distribution of things, but God
Almighty, the great King of heaven, is treated like the kings of the
earth, who, although perhaps intending well themselves, have often
most abominable ministers and stewards, and those generally the
vilest to whom they intrust the most talents.  But here is the
difference, that the princes of this world see by other men's eyes,
but God sees all things; and therefore, whenever He permits His
blessings to be dealt among those who are unworthy, we may certainly
conclude that He intends them only as a punishment to an evil world,
as well as to the owners.  It were well if those would consider
this, whose riches serve them only as a spur to avarice or as an
instrument of their lusts; whose wisdom is only of this world, to
put false colours upon things, to call good evil and evil good
against the conviction of their own consciences; and lastly, who
employ their power and favour in acts of oppression or injustice, in
misrepresenting persons and things, or in countenancing the wicked
to the ruin of the innocent.

Fourthly, The practice of this duty of being subject to one another
would make us rest contented in the several stations of life wherein
God hath thought fit to place us, because it would, in the best and
easiest manner, bring us back, as it were, to that early state of
the Gospel when Christians had all things in common.  For if the
poor found the rich disposed to supply their want, if the ignorant
found the wise ready to instruct and direct them, or if the weak
might always find protection from the mighty, they could none of
them, with the least pretence of justice, lament their own
condition.

From all that hath been hitherto said it appears that great
abilities of any sort, when they are employed as God directs, do but
make the owners of them greater and more painful servants to their
neighbour and the public.  However, we are by no means to conclude
from hence that they are not really blessings, when they are in the
hands of good men.  For, first, what can be a greater honour than to
be chosen one of the stewards and dispensers of God's bounty to
mankind?  What is there that can give a generous spirit more
pleasure and complacency of mind than to consider that he is an
instrument of doing much good; that great numbers owe to him, under
God, their subsistence, their safety, their health, and the good
conduct of their lives?  The wickedest man upon earth takes a
pleasure in doing good to those he loves; and therefore surely a
good Christian, who obeys our Saviour's commands of loving all men,
cannot but take delight in doing good even to his enemies.  God, who
gives all things to all men, can receive nothing from any; and those
among men who do the most good and receive the fewest returns do
most resemble the Creator; for which reason St. Paul delivers it as
a saying of our Saviour, that "it is more blessed to give than
receive."  By this rule, what must become of those things which the
world values as the greatest blessings--riches, power, and the like-
-when our Saviour plainly determines that the best way to make them
blessings is to part with them?  Therefore, although the advantages
which one man hath over another may be called blessings, yet they
are by no means so in the sense the world usually understands.
Thus, for example, great riches are no blessings in themselves,
because the poor man, with the common necessaries of life, enjoys
more health and has fewer cares without them.  How then do they
become blessings?  No otherwise than by being employed in feeding
the hungry, clothing the naked, rewarding worthy men, and, in short,
doing acts of charity and generosity.  Thus, likewise, power is no
blessing in itself, because private men bear less envy, and trouble,
and anguish without it.  But when it is employed to protect the
innocent, to relieve the oppressed, and to punish the oppressor,
then it becomes a great blessing.

And so, lastly, even great wisdom is, in the opinion of Solomon, not
a blessing in itself; for "in much wisdom is much sorrow;" and men
of common understanding, if they serve God and mind their callings,
make fewer mistakes in the conduct of life than those who have
better heads.  And yet wisdom is a mighty blessing when it is
applied to good purposes, to instruct the ignorant, to be a faithful
counsellor either in public or private, to be a director to youth,
and to many other ends needless here to mention.

To conclude:  God sent us into the world to obey His commands, by
doing as much good as our abilities will reach, and as little evil
as our many infirmities will permit.  Some He hath only trusted with
one talent, some with five, and some with ten.  No man is without
his talent; and he that is faithful or negligent in a little shall
be rewarded or punished, as well as he that hath been so in a great
deal.

Consider what hath been said, &c.



ON SLEEPING IN CHURCH



"And there sat in the window a certain young man named Eutychus,
being fallen into a deep sleep; and while Paul was long preaching,
he sunk down with sleep, and fell down from the third loft, and was
taken up dead."--Acts xx. 9.

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 show the great neglect
of preaching now among us.

Secondly, I shall reckon up some of the usual quarrels men have
against preaching.

Thirdly, I shall get forth the great evil of this neglect and
contempt of preaching, and discover the real causes whence it
proceedeth.

Lastly, I shall offer some remedies against this great and spreading
evil.

First, I shall produce certain instances to show 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 company is 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 wayside, 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 do 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 show the unreasonableness of them.

Such unwarrantable behaviour 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 slow, 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 a 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 commonplaces, 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 worst 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
the 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 whence it
proceedeth.

I think it is obvious 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.

But the great evil of this neglect will further yet appear from
considering the real causes whence it proceedeth, whereof the first
I take to be an evil conscience.  Many men come to church to save or
gain a reputation, or because they will not be singular, but comply
with an established custom, yet all the while they are loaded with
the guilt of old rooted sins.  These men can expect to hear of
nothing but terrors and threatenings, their sins laid open in true
colours, and eternal misery the reward of them; therefore, no wonder
they stop their care and divert their thoughts, and seek any
amusement rather than stir the hell within them.

Another cause of this neglect is a heart set upon worldly things.
Men whose minds are much enslaved to earthly affairs all the week
cannot disengage or break the chain of their thoughts so suddenly as
to apply to a discourse that is wholly foreign to what they have
most at heart.  Tell a usurer of charity, and mercy, and
restitution--you talk to the deaf; his heart and soul, with all his
senses, are got among his bags, or he is gravely asleep and dreaming
of a mortgage.  Tell a man of business, that the cares of the world
choke the good seed; that we must not encumber ourselves with much
serving; that the salvation of his soul is the one thing necessary;
you see, indeed, the shape of a man before you, but his faculties
are all gone off among clients and papers, thinking how to defend a
bad cause or find flaws in a good one; or he weareth out the time in
drowsy nods.

A third cause of the great neglect and scorn of preaching ariseth
from the practice of men who set up to decry and disparage religion;
these, being zealous to promote infidelity and vice, learn a rote of
buffoonery that serveth all occasions, and refutes the strongest
arguments for piety and good manners.  These have a set of ridicule
calculated for all sermons and all preachers, and can be extremely
witty as often as they please upon the same fund.

Let me now, in the last place, offer some remedies against this
great evil.

It will be one remedy against the contempt of preaching rightly to
consider the end for which it was designed.  There are many who
place abundance of merit in going to church, although it be with no
other prospect but that of being well entertained, wherein if they
happen to fail, they return wholly disappointed.  Hence it is become
an impertinent vein among people of all sorts to hunt after what
they call a good sermon, as if it were a matter of pastime and
diversion.  Our business, alas! is quite another thing; either to
learn, or at least be reminded of, our duty; to apply the doctrines
delivered, compare the rules we hear with our lives and actions, and
find wherein we have transgressed.  These are the dispositions men
should bring into the house of God, and then they will be little
concerned about the preacher's wit or eloquence, nor be curious to
inquire out his faults and infirmities, but consider how to correct
their own.

Another remedy against the contempt of preaching is that men would
consider whether it be not reasonable to give more allowance for the
different abilities of preachers than they usually do.  Refinements
of style and flights of wit, as they are not properly the business
of any preacher, so they cannot possibly be the talents of all.  In
most other discourses, men are satisfied with sober sense and plain
reason; and, as understandings usually go, even that is not over-
frequent.  Then why they should be so over-nice in expectation of
eloquence, where it is neither necessary nor convenient, is hard to
imagine.

Lastly, The scorners of preaching would do well to consider that
this talent of ridicule they value so much is a perfection very
easily acquired, and applied to all things whatsoever; neither is
anything at all the worse because it is capable of being perverted
to burlesque; perhaps it may be the more perfect upon that score,
since we know the most celebrated pieces have been thus treated with
greatest success.  It is in any man's power to suppose a fool's-cap
on the wisest head, and then laugh at his own supposition.  I think
there are not many things cheaper than supposing and laughing; and
if the uniting these two talents can bring a thing into contempt, it
is hard to know where it may end.

To conclude:  These considerations may perhaps have some effect
while men are awake; but what arguments shall we use to the sleeper?
What methods shall we take to hold open his eyes?  Will he be moved
by considerations of common civility?  We know it is reckoned a
point of very bad manners to sleep in private company, when,
perhaps, the tedious impertinence of many talkers would render it at
least as excusable as the dullest sermon.  Do they think it a small
thing to watch four hours at a play, where all virtue and religion
are openly reviled; and can they not watch one half hour to hear
them defended?  Is this to deal like a judge (I mean like a good
judge), to listen on one side of the cause and sleep on the other?
I shall add but one word more.  That this indecent sloth is very
much owing to that luxury and excess men usually practise upon this
day, by which half the service thereof is turned to sin; men
dividing their time between God and their bellies, when, after a
gluttonous meal, their senses dozed and stupefied, they retire to
God's house to sleep out the afternoon.  Surely, brethren, these
things ought not so to be.

"He that hath ears to hear let him hear."  And God give us all,
grace to hear and receive His Holy Word to the salvation of our own
souls.



ON THE WISDOM OF THIS WORLD



"The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God."--I Cor. iii. 19.

It is remarkable that about the time of our Saviour's coming into
the world all kinds of learning flourished to a very great degree,
insomuch that nothing is more frequent in the mouths of many men,
even such who pretend to read and to know, than an extravagant
praise and opinion of the wisdom and virtue of the Gentile sages of
those days, and likewise of those ancient philosophers who went
before them, whose doctrines are left upon record, either by
themselves or other writers.  As far as this may be taken for
granted, it may be said that the providence of God brought this
about for several very wise ends and purposes; for it is certain
that these philosophers had been a long time before searching out
where to fix the true happiness of man; and not being able to agree
upon any certainty about it, they could not possibly but conclude,
if they judged impartially, that all their inquiries were in the end
but vain and fruitless, the consequence of which must be not only an
acknowledgment of the weakness of all human wisdom, but likewise an
open passage hereby made for letting in those beams of light which
the glorious sunshine of the Gospel then brought into the world, by
revealing those hidden truths which they had so long before been
labouring to discover, and fixing the general happiness of mankind
beyond all controversy and dispute.  And therefore the providence of
God wisely suffered men of deep genius and learning then to arise,
who should search into the truth of the Gospel now made known, and
canvass its doctrines with all the subtilty and knowledge they were
masters of, and in the end freely acknowledge that to be the true
wisdom only "which cometh from above."

However, to make a further inquiry into the truth of this
observation, I doubt not but there is reason to think that a great
many of those encomiums given to ancient philosophers are taken upon
trust, and by a sort of men who are not very likely to be at the
pains of an inquiry that would employ so much time and thinking.
For the usual ends why men affect this kind of discourse appear
generally to be either out of ostentation, that they may pass upon
the world for persons of great knowledge and observation, or, what
is worse, there are some who highly exalt the wisdom of those
Gentile sages, thereby obliquely to glance at and traduce Divine
revelation, and more especially that of the Gospel; for the
consequence they would have us draw is this:  that since those
ancient philosophers rose to a greater pitch of wisdom and virtue
than was ever known among Christians, and all this purely upon the
strength of their own reason and liberty of thinking; therefore it
must follow that either all revelation is false, or, what is worse,
that it has depraved the nature of man, and left him worse than it
found him.

But this high opinion of heathen wisdom is not very ancient in the
world, nor at all countenanced from primitive times.  Our Saviour
had but a low esteem of it, as appears by His treatment of the
Pharisees and Sadducees, who followed the doctrines of Plato and
Epicurus.  St. Paul likewise, who was well versed in all the Grecian
literature, seems very much to despise their philosophy, as we find
in his writings, cautioning the Colossians to "beware lest any man
spoil them through philosophy and vain deceit;" and in another place
he advises Timothy to "avoid profane and vain babblings, and
oppositions of science falsely so called;" that is, not to introduce
into the Christian doctrine the janglings of those vain
philosophers, which they would pass upon the world for science.  And
the reasons he gives are, first, that those who professed them did
err concerning the faith; secondly, because the knowledge of them
did increase ungodliness, vain babblings being otherwise expounded
vanities or empty sounds; that is, tedious disputes about words,
which the philosophers were always so full of, and which were the
natural product of disputes and dissensions between several sects.

Neither had the primitive fathers any great or good opinion of the
heathen philosophy, as is manifest from several passages in their
writings; so that this vein of affecting to raise the reputation of
those sages so high Is a mode and a vice but of yesterday, assumed
chiefly, as I have said, to disparage revealed knowledge and the
consequences of it among us.

Now, because this is a prejudice which may prevail with some persons
so far as to lessen the influence of the Gospel, and whereas,
therefore, this is an opinion which men of education are likely to
be encountered with when they have produced themselves into the
world, I shall endeavour to show that their preference of heathen
wisdom and virtue before that of the Christian is every way unjust,
and grounded upon ignorance or mistake; in order to which I shall
consider four things:-

First, I shall produce certain points wherein the wisdom and virtue
of all unrevealed philosophy in general fell short and was very
imperfect.

Secondly, I shall show, in several instances, where some of the most
renowned philosophers have been grossly defective in their lessons
of morality.

Thirdly, I shall prove the perfection of Christian wisdom from the
proper characters and marks of it.

Lastly, I shall show that the great examples of wisdom and virtue
among the heathen wise men were produced by personal merit, and not
influenced by the doctrine of any sect; whereas, in Christianity, it
is quite the contrary.

First, I shall produce certain points wherein the wisdom and virtue
of all unrevealed philosophy in general fell short and was very
imperfect.

My design is to persuade men that Christian philosophy is in all
things preferable to heathen wisdom; from which, or its professors,
I shall, however, have no occasion to detract.  They were as wise
and as good as it was possible for them to be under such
disadvantages, and would have probably been infinitely more so with
such aids as we enjoy; but our lessons are certainly much better,
however our practices may fall short.

The first point I shall mention is that universal defect which was
in all their schemes, that they could not agree about their chief
good, or wherein to place the happiness of mankind; nor had any of
them a tolerable answer upon this difficulty to satisfy a reasonable
person.  For to say, as the most plausible of them did, "That
happiness consisted in virtue," was but vain babbling, and a mere
sound of words to amuse others and themselves; because they were not
agreed what this virtue was or wherein it did consist; and likewise,
because several among the best of them taught quite different
things, placing happiness in health or good fortune, in riches or in
honour, where all were agreed that virtue was not, as I shall have
occasion to show when I speak of their particular tenets.

The second great defect in the Gentile philosophy was that it wanted
some suitable reward proportioned to the better part of man--his
mind, as an encouragement for his progress in virtue.  The
difficulties they met with upon the score of this default were
great, and not to be accounted for; bodily goods, being only
suitable to bodily wants, are no rest at all for the mind; and if
they were, yet are they not the proper fruits of wisdom and virtue,
being equally attainable by the ignorant and wicked.  Now human
nature is so constituted that we can never pursue anything heartily
but upon hopes of a reward.  If we run a race, it is in expectation
of a prize; and the greater the prize the faster we run; for an
incorruptible crown, if we understand it and believe it to be such,
more than a corruptible one.  But some of the philosophers gave all
this quite another turn, and pretended to refine so far as to call
virtue its own reward, and worthy to be followed only for itself;
whereas, if there be anything in this more than the sound of the
words, it is at least too abstracted to become a universal
influencing principle in the world, and therefore could not be of
general use.

It was the want of assigning some happiness proportioned to the soul
of man that caused many of them, either on the one hand, to be sour
and morose, supercilious and untreatable, or, on the other, to fall
into the vulgar pursuits of common men, to hunt after greatness and
riches, to make their court and to serve occasions, as Plato did to
the younger Dionysius, and Aristotle to Alexander the Great.  So
impossible it is for a man who looks no further than the present
world to fix himself long in a contemplation where the present world
has no part; he has no sure hold, no firm footing; he can never
expect to remove the earth he rests upon while he has no support
besides for his feet, but wants, like Archimedes, some other place
whereon to stand.  To talk of bearing pain and grief without any
sort of present or future hope cannot be purely greatness of spirit;
there must be a mixture in it of affectation and an alloy of pride,
or perhaps is wholly counterfeit.

It is true there has been all along in the world a notion of rewards
and punishments in another life, but it seems to have rather served
as an entertainment to poets or as a terror of children than a
settled principle by which men pretended to govern any of their
actions.  The last celebrated words of Socrates, a little before his
death, do not seem to reckon or build much upon any such opinion;
and Caesar made no scruple to disown it and ridicule it in open
senate.

Thirdly, the greatest and wisest of all their philosophers were
never able to give any satisfaction to others and themselves in
their notions of a deity.  They were often extremely gross and
absurd in their conceptions, and those who made the fairest
conjectures are such as were generally allowed by the learned to
have seen the system of Moses, if I may so call it, who was in great
reputation at that time in the heathen world, as we find by
Diodorus, Justin, Longinus, and other authors; for the rest, the
wisest among them laid aside all notions after a deity as a
disquisition vain and fruitless, which indeed it was upon unrevealed
principles; and those who ventured to engage too far fell into
incoherence and confusion.

Fourthly, Those among them who had the justest conceptions of a
Divine power, and did also admit a providence, had no notion at all
of entirely relying and depending upon either; they trusted in
themselves for all things, but as for a trust or dependence upon
God, they would not have understood the phrase; it made no part of
the profane style.

Therefore it was that, in all issues and events which they could not
reconcile to their own sentiments of reason and justice, they were
quite disconcerted; they had no retreat, but upon every blow of
adverse fortune, either affected to be indifferent, or grew sullen
and severe, or else yielded and sunk like other men.


Having now produced certain points wherein the wisdom and virtue of
all unrevealed philosophy fell short and was very imperfect, I go
on, in the second place, to show, in several instances, where some
of the most renowned philosophers have been grossly defective in
their lessons of morality.

Thales, the founder of the Ionic sect, so celebrated for morality,
being asked how a man might bear ill-fortune with greatest ease,
answered, "By seeing his enemies in a worse condition."  An answer
truly barbarous, unworthy of human nature, and which included such
consequences as must destroy all society from the world.

Solon lamenting the death of a son, one told him, "You lament in
vain."  "Therefore," said he, "I lament, because it is in vain."
This was a plain confession how imperfect all his philosophy was,
and that something was still wanting.  He owned that all his wisdom
and morals were useless, and this upon one of the most frequent
accidents in life.  How much better could he have learned to support
himself even from David, by his entire dependence upon God, and that
before our Saviour had advanced the notions of religion to the
height and perfection wherewith He hath instructed His disciples!

Plato himself, with all his refinements, placed happiness in wisdom,
health, good fortune, honour, and riches, and held that they who
enjoyed all these were perfectly happy; which opinion was indeed
unworthy its owner, leaving the wise and good man wholly at the
mercy of uncertain chance, and to be miserable without resource.

His scholar Aristotle fell more grossly into the same notion, and
plainly affirmed, "That virtue, without the goods of fortune, was
not sufficient for happiness, but that a wise man must be miserable
in poverty and sickness."  Nay, Diogenes himself, from whose pride
and singularity one would have looked for other notions, delivered
it as his opinion, "That a poor old man was the most miserable thing
in life."

Zeno also and his followers fell into many absurdities, among which
nothing could be greater than that of maintaining all crimes to be
equal; which, instead of making vice hateful, rendered it as a thing
indifferent and familiar to all men.

Lastly, Epicurus had no notion of justice but as it was profitable;
and his placing happiness in pleasure, with all the advantages he
could expound it by, was liable to very great exception; for
although he taught that pleasure did consist in virtue, yet he did
not any way fix or ascertain the boundaries of virtue, as he ought
to have done; by which means he misled his followers into the
greatest vices, making their names to become odious and scandalous
even in the heathen world.