those who are reduced by misfortunes, which is what may happen to the best and wisest of mankind, is, as it ought to be, more easy. It is easier, I mean, to bear up cheerfully against the inconveniences of poverty, when we have not ourselves to reproach with it. There is no infamy to contend with; for where is the shame of sharing the disaster which all mankind are liable to? It is like being struck by a thunderbolt. There is no disgrace in it of any kind. Fools, indeed, may deride, when they see us stripped of the ornaments of wealth and honour-but none but fools will laugh. The good and serious will be taught to look up to the hand which holds the rod, and tremble for themselves. Misfortunes man is taught to expect; and, bad as the world is, it will always reverence an honest man struggling with difficulties. But there are for such, comforts and considerations of another kind, far above the world or its opinions. The proper reflection in such a situation, and which should never be out of a man's mind, is this-that their misfortune is the visitation of God alone, probably for the very purpose of trying and proving our integrity. He, therefore, that stands firm, that holds fast his integrity, comes out of the fire purer and brighter-approves himself to his God in the very part in which God has been pleased to try him. This is to sanctify our sufferings-making, that is, "our light affliction, which is but for a moment, work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." But indeed, to speak the plain truth, it is not those who are brought to poverty by misfortunes that are often dishonest under it. It is those who set out with schemes of overreaching and deceit, and fail in them; or those who begin with extravagance and end in fraud; that is, wanting either good principle or firmness of mind to abide by it, they are carried away by the temptation which according to their circumstances is the strongest in their prosperity by luxury and pride—in their adversity by the practices of fraud and roguery. The violent temptations, that distressed circumstances lay men under, to attempt the arts of fraud and dishonesty, ought both to make us careful ourselves, and likewise somewhat more moderate and charitable towards others, who labour under difficulties of this kind. We may have been, perhaps, fair and honest in our dealings; we have done wellbut we have been always in affluence, at ease in our circumstances, and have never felt the load and pressure of perplexed : or reduced fortunes. We have never known what it is to look disgrace and poverty in the face. If we have known not this, we know not the trial some men's honesty is put to, nor how far ours would have stood out against them. It is one thing to maintain our integrity in the ordinary transactions and easy concerns of life, and another to hold it fast at an extremity—when we are pushed on by indigence, and the prospect perhaps of ruin on the one side, and convenient opportunity, and the expectation we may be under of setting ourselves at ease and liberty, on the other. I am not now arguing for dishonesty of any kind, or in any circumstances. I am only pleading for the lenity of mankind— somewhat more mildness and moderation in our judgement and treatment of such persons, than is always shown; and this principally to impress upon you the advice of Saint Paul, "That if any be overtaken in a fault, instead of driving him to despair by persecution and ill usage, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted." LI. THE MISAPPLICATION OF EXAMPLE. 1 COR. xv. 33. "Evil communications corrupt good manners. WE often make a very bad use of the example of others; and this is not owing solely to the wickedness of the example, but to our own error and perverseness in applying it. It is very difficult to live well among bad companions. It is a proof of a strong sense of duty, as well as of a great command of resolution, to maintain our virtue and innocence in any particular branch of morals, in which there is a general relaxation of principle and insensibility of guilt prevailing among the persons around us. Men without principle, men without religion, men of unsteadfast minds, of easy consciences, of thoughtless dispositions, are swept away by the current-they go down with the stream of general practice, and of general conversation, with very little opposition to corruptions which have example to support them. Hence, the infectious nature of vice, and the rapid pro gress of the infection. If licentious and lascivious sins have found their way into a neighbourhood, good and serious men are shocked to see how the youth of both sexes fall into the snare. It is with concern that they observe how many are undone, and how soon. When drinking, late hours, riotous proceedings, gain footing in a place, there is no computing what numbers are drawn in: at first, it is probable, those only who were bad beforehand-then the idle and unoccupied, who are ready for any seduction-then the giddy and foolish-then the pliant tempered. But the evil practice continues, till husbands and parents forget all those who ought to be the nearest and dearest to them, and share in the general profligacy, to the great grief, terror, and prejudice of their friends, and those who depend upon them. If swearing get into use, it is inconceivable how the horror of it wears away, and how soon oaths and imprecations become frequent in our streets, even from the lips of children; how all discourse, especially all mirth and diversion, become tainted with it; but the good Christian reflects-he knows that sin is the same, whether it be common or uncommon, whether there be many examples to countenance it, or none, whether it be the fashion of the place, or the contrary-that it is the same in the sight of God, the same in its final effects, the same in its punishment; and that all those, be they many or few, who are led away by the commonness of a vice, are either men of hollow and unsound principles, or foolish and ignorant --men wanting in firmness and self-command, men incapable of any moral proficiency: yet, that is the true time to hold close to a man's innocency and resolutions, when he is beset, as I may so say, by the restless importunity of evil example, of a corrupt neighbourhood, of a licentious age. These all are the natural consequences of bad examples; but what I rather propose to consider is, not so much the effects, as the misapplications of example. And of these one is the following,-when a man of general good character has some particular failing mixed with his virtues, we, without possessing the virtues, make them an excuse for the failings in ourselves: than which nothing can be more absurd, for how far these virtues may extenuate the failings in him is certainly of no importance to us; if we have not his virtues to allege in our conduct, they can be of no benefit or profit to us. And if we take the argument the other way-if we suppose that the failing cannot have so much harm and guilt in it as some impute to it, otherwise so good a man would not have allowed himself in the practice, we advance the unsafest argument that can be alleged. Some are very mixed characters, very inconsistent with themselves; and men, otherwise good, are under surprising delusions in that part of their character in which they have suffered themselves to be overcome; so that, to build upon their authority in the very point in which they betray their weakness, is to rely upon a very feeble support indeed. Thus a man of honour and honesty in his dealings, in whom the world places great trust and confidence, may unfortunately, with all his character for general conscientiousness and integrity, have fallen into habits of sottishness and drinking. Others who give themselves up to this insinuating and pernicious vice will plead his example, and appear to themselves to be sheltered, as it were, under his character, though not one of the qualities which compose his character belong to themselves. But, they say, could he be the man to permit himself these indulgences, if he thought them so wrong? Alas! we ought never to argue in this manner!-We cannot infer a man's judgement from his practice; we know not what passes in his mind. Perhaps his conscience is struggling against it all the while. Perhaps he has been so often overcome by temptation and by his propensity, that conscience has lost its force and its sensibility-which will happen. Perhaps, if he were to counsel and admonish, he would be the first man to warn or caution us against the very indulgence in which we think we are only following him. He would propose his own case to us, not as an encouragement or an example, which we make it to be, but as a lesson and a warning. Sensible of his infirmity and his unsteadiness, he does not undertake to defend it, although he has often found himself overcome by it. And what must be the consequence of this kind of imitation? If we will imitate some particular person, let us imitate him in his good properties; at least, let us imitate him throughout. Picking out from each character the bad parts of it, and infusing those, and those only, into our own, is a plan which must end in gradual loss of virtue and growth of vice; and if others pursued it as well as we, in universal depravity and corruption. We are to judge of actions and conduct as they are in themselves, and not as they are joined with other actions and other conduct in the same person.-That is the right and sound judgement. But the most wrong, and the most unsound, is that which would excuse vices which we have, by virtues which we have not;—that which presumes that a man's judgement vindicates what his passions prompt him to. A second misapplication of example is this; when we see a man of pious and religious carriage forget his character, so as to fall into some unjustifiable or loose conduct, we forthwith conclude that his former piety was all hypocrisy, his religion feigned. Now this is a very hasty conclusion. The experience of human life does not authorize it. On the contrary, we see men drawn into transgressions of their duty, without renouncing, or even disturbing their principles. There is a great deal of difference between secretly respecting religion, and religion not having so firm a hold on our minds as to guide and direct our conduct uniformly. We may infer the weakness of a man's principles and resolution, or we may infer the violence of his passions, and the mastery they have gained over him, from his giving way to temptation; but we cannot infer, either his former insincerity, or that any deliberate change in his opinions has taken place. A difference ought to be made whether the sin be casual or habitual; that is, whether it be a single offence, or a course of offending: if it be the first kind, it is a very harsh judgement to pronounce, because a man has been off his guard, and overtaken off his guard, that therefore, in truth, he has no religion at all. There is no foundation for any such inference. Not only charity, but probability is against it. If a man apparently religious falls not only into a single act of transgression, but into an evil course of life, the presumption no doubt is more against him; yet even here it is far from decisive. Men in fact allow themselves in a course of unlawful practices in some particular point, who retain a regard to duty in other points. We may perhaps argue that they deceive, even fatally deceive, their own hearts; but we cannot argue that they reject the grounds of moral and religious obligation. I mention this case in particular, because vicious men are exceedingly apt to lay great stress upon it. It is a kind of ease to their minds to find out a hypocrite. If they can but point out in the neighbourhood a man of outward sanctity and apparent religious behaviour, who has been detected in some secret bad practices, or who, after years of sober and regular conversation, has fallen off from his character, and given himself up to licentious or dishonest courses, they VOL. IV. Ꮮ |