THE BLIND OBEDIENCE OF AN HUMBLE PENITENT.
CHAP. I. The Character of Blind Obedience, and of Scrupulosity which is humble & submissive.
BLind Obedience is an ill name which the World has given to one of the best things in it. I do not call it so, because I [Page 2]think it is so; but because the custom of speaking will have it so, and many people will not understand me if I use another term for it. However I shall endeavour to do it so much justice, as to shew plainly in a familiar example, that so good a thing does not deserve so bad a name.
Let us suppose two Travellers in the same way to the same home, & that their lives & fortunes depend upon their coming timely thither. The one goes slowly on, & oftentimes stands still to satisfie his curiosity, either in looking back to take a prospect of the Country which he leaves behind him, or else in studying whether the foot-way on the right hand or the left be better than the way he's in: Whilest he is thus amused with [Page 3]idle fancies, time runs on, the day is spent, he is benighted before he is aware, & begins to repent when 'tis too late. His fellow-traveller considers that all these vain amusements are nothing to his purpose, he is full of concern for the great affair he has in hand, & therefore he marches diligently on, minds carefully the way before him, & never stops to look behind, or gaze about him. Will any body say, this man is blind, because he does not see backward? or because he does not stare about him, on the one side, or the other? All his business is to go forward, he sees the way before him as well as any man living, he sees all that he has need to see, and therefore, whosoever says this man is blind, must excuse me if I cannot believe it.
The Case of these two Travellers is dayly verified in scrupulous persons, of which there are two sorts: the one proud & willfull, the other humble & submissive. Those rely upon themselves, & these upon their Guide. Those always are disturb'd with idle doubts & fears which are not worth a serious thought: These never trouble their heads with any thing but their chief business, which is to march diligently on, for fear of coming late; they never stop to look backward, for fear of having dropt something behind them; they never stand still to observe the different paths on either side of the road; they carefully observe the sure direction of their Guide, and, without disputing the matter with him, are contented to follow wheresoêre he [Page 5]leads. This is the true character of the Obedience I speak of: It is always ready to march at first word of command; it never pauses to gaze behind it, or on either side; it clearly sees the way which it is bid to take, & never perplexes it self with any doubts about it, because it is self-evident there can be no other way for true Obedience. What a spitefull thing it is, to say, that this Obedience is blind, when it sees its way so clearly, & is so certain of it!
This humble & submissive Scrupulosity is rather to be envied, than be pitied. To these there is no need of preaching Blind Obedience. They are very well acquainted with it: 'tis their dayly practice, & perpetual comfort: 'tis by this they overcome their [Page 6]doubts & fears; and though they are not quite so easy as they would be, yet they are contented & resign'd. Their Scrupulosity, though sometimes painfull, is always advantagious to them: the experience of their weakness humbles them, & fortifies them in the practice of Obedience, it not onely puts them in the way to Heaven; but it helps to keep them in it; and therefore I have no more to say to them at present, but onely to wish them a good journey. The proud & willfull Sinners are the persons, I have now to deal with: Those Sinners who are not contented to be Saints according to God's heart, but must & will be Saints according to their own.
CHAP. II. The true Causes of proud & willfull Scrupulosity.
OUr Doctors & Divines, who treat of Scruples, observe several causes of them: 1. Melancholy, which is sometimes cured by physick: 2. Suggestion of the Devil, against whom the best defence is prayer: 3. Conversation of Scrupulous persons, whose needless discourses of their inward troubles, ought to be shunn'd as infectious: 4. Reading of casuistical books, which are to be avoided as remedies unfit for the disease: 5. Excess of servile fear, which dayly diminishes as the Love of God encreases. These are the Causes which they commonly [Page 8]take notice of; but they are nothing to my present purpose: because a complication of them all together, may consist with being humble & submissive.
The true & proper Causes of our being proud & willfull in our Scruples, are the Esteem of our Judgment, & the Love of our Liberty, which we derive originally from the Sin of our first Parents. We are curious of knowing good & evil: we are ambitious of being like the Highest: we are desirous of being absolute and independent in all our thoughts & actions: we would willingly be uncontrollable in both: we would fain do what we think, & think what we please: in a word, we would gladly chuse our own way, and be our own Judges whether we have chosen right or wrong.
Tis obvious to every body's natural reason, that Scrupulous persons would never be proud, if they had not an esteem of their judgment; neither would they be willfull in their Scruples, if they did not love the liberty of their humour. They esteem their judgment, & are therefore so proud, they cannot endure to submit it: they love their humour, & therefore are so willfull, they cannot abide to cross it. To abate this love, & to correct this vain esteem, I know nothing more proper than to expose the folly & the mifcheif which attend them: and therefore shall endeavour in the two following chapters to shew the extravagant effects, & the pernicious consequences of them.
CHAP. III. The extravagant Effects of Scrupulosity when it is proud & willfull.
TIs no wonder that humane Reason is extravagant, when Scrupulosity on the one side, & obstinacy on the other, conspire together to confound the notions of it▪ The one frights it out of the way; the other hinders it from coming in again: The one warps it; the other makes it stand bent: And how is't possible for any body to square their actions by such a crooked Rule. All that I wonder at, is this; that when people find, & feel by sad experience, the folly & extravagancy of their following such a Rule, they are [Page 11]yet so proud & willfull as not to make use of a better, which God himself has recommended to them.
There are such a vast variety of follies & excesses which their pride & willfullness betray them to, that I should never make an end, if I pretended to take notice of them all: & therefore, to bring my matters into as little compass as may be, & to make them as plain & self-evident as I can, I shall reduce them to three general heads, by considering the principal duties of Temperance, & by comparing that of the Body with the other of the Mind, which has most need of it, & suffers most for want of it.
SECT. I. The extravagancy of their Curiosity.
THe first & least degree of Temperance obliges us to abstain from all those things, which in the common opinion of the world are poyson to us, & will certainly destroy us. A man must needs be very intemperate indeed, who longs for a belly-full of Arsenick, as much as a child does for a lump of sugar. Would you not think a man strangely willfull, who will not believe 'tis poyson, till he has tried it? Such is the folly of many scrupulous penitents, who long to know some secret truths, which if they knew for certain, the very certainty would be enough to ruine [Page 13]them. They fright themselves almost out of their wits with thinking, that their Confessions never are exact, that they never love God above all things, that they never do sufficient pennance for their sins, that they are not in the state of Grace, & that they are not in the number of God's Elect. How happy should they be, in case they did but know assuredly the truth of these important matters! If they knew onely these two things, 1. that they are at present in God's favour, 2. that they always shall be so, How cheerfully & unconcerndly would they then march forward in the way to Heaven!
I confess, they have all the reason in the world to wish these things were true: Their Eternal happiness or misery depend entirely [Page 14]upon the truth of them: But, since they may be true, without their knowledg, 'tis evidently unnecessary to know it, & unreasonable to be so eager for the assurance of it. Alas! all this is nothing but the weakness & faint-heartedness of an infirm & cowardly Spirit, which makes them over-covetous of their security: a Security which would eternally undo them, if they had it. They are terribly afraid: this Fear makes them very uneasy: & this Uneasiness creates an earnest desire of an imaginary Certainty, which may exempt them from all fear, & make them be at ease. In this proceeding there is great appearance of Humour, but not one jot of Reason: & because they are such great pretenders to reason, I shall take the pains to [Page 15]prove that nothing can be more unreasonable.
I. Tis impossible for any body to desire sincerely the Salvation of their Soul, without desiring at the same time to comply with all those duties, which are requisite to save it. One of these duties is Fear: we are commanded to (a) work our Salvation with Fear & Trembling: How then can they pretend to go to work without it?
II. Tis certainly a foolish thing to avoid one mischief, by incurring another equal to it. A wise man, if he were obliged to pass twixt fire & water, would be sure to mind the middle-way: he would neither burn himself for fear of drowning, nor drown himself for fear of burning. This is the present case. The way to [Page 16]Heaven is the middle-way betwixt Presumption & Despair: two dreadfull precipices which descend as low as Hell. To save us from falling on either side, the way is fenc'd with Hope & Fear: Hope, that we may not despair, Fear, that we may not presume. The blood of our veins, and breath of our nostrils, are not more requisite for the life of our bodies, than Hope & Fear are necessary for the saving of our Souls: How then can they imagine that 'tis reasonable, to desire to be exempt from either?
III. The onely true Security, which can be expected in this world, is that which is grounded upon Fear. Tis Fear that makes us humble & diligent. By making us humble, it prepares us for the grace of God; (b) He gives his [Page 17] grace to the humble: and by making us diligent in complying with his grace, it helps us to secure our Salvation; (c) Use diligence, says the Apostle, to make your calling & election sure. Besides, 'tis Fear that makes us (d) watch & pray, that we enter not into temptation. By watching we put our selves upon a close guard, and by praying we obtain the assistance of Heaven against all our enemies on earth. When (e) our Enemy the Devil goes about like a roaring Lion, seeking to devour us, an unconcernd assurance is apt to lull us asleep: There's nothing like Fear, to make us watchfull. (f) O God incline unto my aid; O Lord, make hast to help me. A man, who is afraid, will say this prayer [Page 18]heartily: but he, who thinks himself in safety, will either say it very tepidly, or not at all. To conclude in a few words; Watching & Praying are our best Security: Fear is the best thing in the world, to make us watch & pray: And therefore, they who are so fond of being Secure, How can they think of wishing to be free from Fear?
IV. The Fanaticks pretend to the very same assurance, which our Scrupulous people are so fond of: and Experience plainly teaches, that it onely serves to make them proud and negligent. When once they are deluded with a strong perswasion that they are God's Favourites, They take no further care: The Lambs of the Lord may play what tricks they please. If this be the effect of unconcernd Security; if it [Page 19]poyson & ruine the Soul; what reason can any body have to wish for it?
V. As long as the Devil is not dead, and as long as this sinfull flesh of ours is living in a wicked world; so long it is impossible for us to be free from three implacable enemies, the World, the Flesh, & the Devil. Heaven is the onely place of Peace, such as excludes all war, all danger, & all fear: (g) Upon Earth our life is a continual Warfare: & every body knows very well, there can be no War without danger, nor Danger without just reason to fear. A true Security of being Happy, without any fear of being otherwise, is undoubtedly a very lovely thing; and Heaven it self is lovely, for the very sake of it. I [Page 20]do not wonder that good people are in love with it: and that they long to be in Heaven, to enjoy it. But to wish to have it, where we know it is not to be had, is an extravagancy which I never can sufficiently admire.
SECT. II. The extravagancy of their Examens.
THe second degree of Temperance obliges us, not onely to abstain from poyson, but also from all excess in such meats and drinks as are good & necessary for us: and the reason is clear; because although they are good, if moderately taken, yet every great excess is hurtfull, & next door to poyson. Let a man be never so temperate in [Page 21]the choice of his diet: though he be never so cautious in consulting his Physician concerning the quality of it; yet, if he exceed in the quantity, if he eat all day & drink all night, he is certainly guilty of a very notorious intemperance.
This is the case of those Scrupulous Penitents, who are too proud to submit their judgment, & too willfull to cross their humour. To examine their Conscience, is a very good thing, & necessary for the health of their Soul: but yet there's moderation in all things; and 'tis an unpardonable extravagancy to spend the greatest part of day & night, in spelling upon sins and circumstances, & putting them together. If it were onely so much precious time so idely spent, they would be more excusable: [Page 22]but to employ their time so busily, not onely to do themselves no good, but even to do themselves a great deal of harm, is a folly which I take to be matchless. They torment themselves continually: they neglect all other duties, they bring a publick scandal upon the very character of devotion: and all this to no purpose, but onely to try to pacifie the fears of a cowardly Spirit, which has no reason in the world to be so fearfull, but because it wants a little courage to be quiet.
I must needs own, that when people are ready to sink under the weight of their uneasiness, 'tis natural to seek for comfort; but however 'tis not rational to seek it where Experience proves it is not to be found. They cannot [Page 23]easily submit their judgment to their Confessor; & therefore in all their doubts they labour to suppress their fears, by satisfying their own Reason about them: But the more they range in the Wood, the more they confound & lose themselves. They can neither endure the thought of danger, nor the sense of fear; & therefore, though they really believe it is to little purpose, yet they still are tempted to go on, & easily yield to the temptation. If experience did not teach them that they try in vain, they might have some plea their practise but to examine barely for examen sake, is a groundless fancy without the least colour of reason; & looks (if I may borrow the wit of a pleasant modern Poet) [Page 24]
OR
They think that if they examine no longer, they shall be mightily disturb'd in mind; and they always find, that the longer they examine, the more they are disturb'd. They trouble themselves for fear of being troubled: and by their willfull disobedience, in this very point, they lose God's favour, for fear of losing it. An extravagancy much like that, which the Poet describes, of one Fannius, who took the pains to kill himself, for fear his Enemy should save him the labour, & do it for him▪ (h)
SECT. III. The extravagancy of their Fears.
WHereas the Duties of Temperance extend themselves alike to all particular matters which regard our health, and consequently oblige us to observe a proportionable equality & regularity in all our measures: On the contrary, these proud Penitents are unequal & irregular in every thing. They are terribly fearfull, where they need not fear; and where there is most danger, they are least concern'd for't. Excessively sollicitous in [Page 26]the Examen of their Consciences; and supinely careless in the Amendment of their lives.
They are frighted into a dread full apprehension of some trifles, which are little or nothing to their purpose; and whilst they are so stedfastly attentive to these needless points, they are insensible & stupid as to all things else. They will be their own Guides; & by God's just judgment upon them, they are blind ones. They are like the blind Guides in the Gospel, (i) who strein at a gnat, & swallow a Camel. They startle at every inconsiderable difficulty invented by their own imagination; and, in things of great importance, go on as boldly & as unconcerndly as if they did not see Hell gaping under their feet. [Page 27]Their stomach rises at the very thought of resigning their judgment in doubtfull cases; and in things which are undoubtedly hurtfull, even to the degree of poysonous, they sit down to them with a very good appetite. All the Severities of exteriour mortification, as watchings, fastings, hair-cloths, and the like, are commonly wellcome to them: because they are well enough pleased with any thing that feeds their pride, & helps them to a false perswasion of their being in the high road of the Saints. These things they'l practise, even when their Confessor forbids them. But, as for the (k) renewing of their Spirit and their Mind, the best & most important mortification, which is that of the Soul, by crossing of [Page 28]their humour & submitting of their judgment, They hate the very thought of it: Not a word of that; as you love them. If all this be not extravagant, Pray tell me, What is?
CHAP. IV. The pernicious Consequences of the same Scrupulosity.
IF people might play the fool, as they please, in the way to Heaven, without being ever the worse for it: then indeed the Scrupulosity, I speak of, would be an innocent sort of Folly, without any Mischief in it. But surely, if what we believe of Heaven & Hell be true, there can be nothing more pernicious & more fatal to us, than that sturdy & resty Scrupulosity, which will neither lead nor [Page 29]drive, but will be always either standing still, or looking backwards, to observe the way behind it. At this rate of going to Heaven, How is it possible for us ever to get thither?
S. Paul compares the way to Heaven, to the running of a race, in which we strive to win the prize of everlasting Glory. Consider onely what a disadvantage it is for a man to look behind him all the way he runs. Without question he who looks before him, advances with much more ease, much greater speed, & much less danger: whereas he who looks behind him, must needs move very slowly & uneasily, besides being exposed every moment to a double danger, either of falling, or of missing his way. If these people thought the way to Heaven easy, [Page 30]they would not be so much afraid as they are: and, if they think it hard to find, why are they always gazing backwards? The way lies before them; and looking forward is the surest way to find it.
Our Saviour bids us (l) strive to enter in at the strait Gate: for many will seek to enter in, & shall not be able. We must strive to enter: We must not lose time: we must make what hast we can: & how can we make hast, if we are always looking behind us? Besides, the Gate is strait: If it were wide enough, one might hit it without aiming at it: but, being so strait as it is, if we are always looking behind us, 'tis impossible to hit it. And therefore 'tis no wonder that our Saviour adds, Many will strive to enter in, [Page 31]& shall not be able: because many will be always puzzling their brains with making, or mending, their general confessions; & always looking whence they come, without minding whither they go.
SECT. I. The difference betwixt Servile Fear and Loving Confidence.
ONe of the principal causes from whence this great disorder proceeds, is (m) an excess of servile Fear; and 'tis a thousand pities they are so much over-power'd with it. Tis true; [Page 32] Fear is good; & 'tis (n) the beginning of wisdom: But what is the Beginning good for, if it never bring them to the End? (o) The end of the Law is Love. When servile Fear is grown to a very great excess, 'tis like the winterseason of the Soul; 'tis a certain chilliness of Love, which makes them quake & tremble, whether they will or no. If they had but time to breath a while; if they had any respite to consider the Divine Goodness; if their continual fears would give them leasure to (p) tast & see how sweet God is; the Love of him would soon improve in their hearts; it would be like the Sun's approaching nigher their Meridian; it would warm them, quicken them, & drive away the chilly coldness of their Fear.
True Friendship naturally inspires a loving Confidence in our Friend. The more we love him, the more we confide in him. And if we love him very much, we are apt to have so much confidence in him, as to think it almost impossible for him to find in his heart to hurt us. If this be so, even amongst us mortals, notwithstanding our ill nature & our being subject to mistake, surely the self-same reason is of much more force, when 'tis applied to God. Our friends on earth may be misstaken, & suspect our love; or else may possibly be so illnatur'd as to slight it, though they know it. But our God can neither be illnatur'd to us, nor mistaken in us: if we love him, we may be assured, he always knows it, and he never slights it.
Tis S. Austin's Maxim: Love, & Do what you will. Do but love God, and whatever you do, under the direction & influence of this Love, will never disturb your peace. Do but love him heartily, and then you will never purposely and deliberately design to offend him: your chief design will always be to please him: and, whatsoever frailties or surprises happen, as long as this design subsists, you need not doubt but that they always will be pardonable. Do but love him above all things, and all your imperfections, whatsoêre they are, will onely serve to humble you, they never will incline you to despair.
S. Peter tells us, that (p) Love covers a multitude of faults. Consider [Page 35]onely the imperfections of little children: how frequent, & how troublesome they are: And yet the tenderness of any loving Parent covers all. These children are dutifull in the main: they love their Parents better than any other friends: and are sorry for nothing more than for offending them. On the other side, their Parents, who see it, are satisfied in the main: They are content to bear with other dayly failings: They correct & chide them for their lesser faults: But, though they are frequently displeas'd, there is no danger of their children being disinherited. The more we see, & the more clearly we discover, the guilt of all our dayly trespasses, the more we ought to humble our selves in presence of our God, and love him so much more for loving [Page 36]us in spite of all our faults, and for assuring us that if our Love persever to the end, we shall never lose our right to the inheritance of Heaven. Is not this enough to moderate & govern all our fears? What need we wish for more?
SECT. II. The mischief of long Examens.
IF Scrupulous people would but find a little leasure to consider seriously such comfortable truths as these, they would soon find benefit by them: but their mischief is, they have always something else to do, when they should think how good God is. Instead of calling to mind how kind & tender a Father they have in Heaven, their busy thoughts [Page 37]are entertain'd with fancies of his being a severe & cruel Tyrant upon Earth. A Tyrant that exacts more from them than their utmost diligence is able to perform: an Enemy that always watches to destroy them, & delights in laying hold of any opportunity to ruine them: a Master so intolerably rigid in exacting his accounts, that when his Slaves have done whatever they can, 'tis all in vain, there is no possibility of ever making even reckonings with him. I will not say, they absolutely are of this opinion: but this I am sure of, they behave themselves as if they were. Tis hard to determine what opinion they are of; or whether they have any opinion at all. The onely conjecture which I dare rely upon, is this: that where their Fears prevail, [Page 38]they are little better (if not worse) than Infidels. They dare not believe the Church of God, nor even God himself: and therefore 'tis no wonder, if they dare not trust their Confessor.
The Word of God himself assures them in general, that (q) his Commands are not grievous: and yet they cannot believe it. They think the obligation of confessing is the most grievous thing imaginable; & that 'tis morally impossible to be comply'd with.
The Council of Trent assures them in particular, that this Command is not grievous. It declares, that (r) it is an impious thing, either to say it is impossible, or to call it a Torture of Consciences. They do not believe this neither. They find by experience [Page 39]that their Spirits are upon the wrack, & that it is a Torture to them, whensoever they prepare for Confession. Tis true; it is their own fault, who are willfull in over-doing their duty. But this is another truth, which they believe no more than the rest. They are too proud to blame themselves; and therefore lay the fault upon their obligation.
The Council declares that (s) NOTHING MORE is required in the Church from Penitents, than that after a DILIGENT [Page 40]EXAMEN every one confess those sins in which THEY REMEMBER themselves to have offended mortally the Lord their God: & that THE REST of their Sins, whatsoever they are, which after a diligent examen DO NOT occur to mind, are ALL understood to be INCLUDED in the same Confession. This Declaration would be as comfortable as their hearts can wish, if they did but believe it.
Nothing more is required, than to confess those Sins which they remember; not which they can, but which they do remember. From when it plainly follows, that, if they do not remember, they are altogether as secure as if they could not. If we we were obliged to examine till we remember all; then indeed [Page 41]our proud Penitents, who willfully torture themselves with long & tedious examens, would be very much in the right of it: But, on the contrary, 'tis evident the Council does not oblige us to remember; it onely obliges us to examine. Neither is it in the power of any Council to command a man, to have a good memory: but, such as it is, a good one, or a bad one, we are commanded to be diligent in calling it to an account. This done, We neither are the better, if we remember all, nor worse, if we forget the greatest part. If we remember our sins exactly, all & everyone of them, What greater advantage can we expect, than to have them all & every one forgiven us? This is certainly All: & this advantage is the very same, to all intents & [Page 42]purposes of pardon, although we forget the greatest part, because the Council has declared, they are all forgiven as fully & as entirely as if we had remember'd & confess'd them.
To what purpose then is all this torturing of their minds, when it manifestly does more harm than good? It disturbs their thoughts, it robs them of their peace, it dries up their devotion, it deprives them of all comfort, it renders them excessively uneasy, it tempts & leads them to impatience & despair.
To what purpose is all this pudder of examining? Is it to please God, or your self? To please your self, is a dangerous business: for, although your disobedience may be pleasing here, 'tis much to be fear'd the punishment of it will be very unpleasant [Page 43]hereafter. And, as for pleasing God, 'tis certain he is equally pleas'd, when he has equally forgiven us: and the Council assures us, He equally forgives what we forget, & as perfectly, as what we remember.
Let us now compare the doctrine of the Council, with the practice of these people. According to their practice, there is nothing more necessary than this endless diligence: and according to the Council, there is nothing more needless. From whence I leave you to conclude, whether or no these examining creatures are those who hear the Church, or whether they are not in some danger of being, one day, reckon'd amongst the Heathens & the Publicans.
SECT. III. Blind Obedience the best Remedy.
AN humble Penitent is free from these disorders. His scrupulosity may be fearfull; 'tis the nature of it to be so: but it never is incurable: because 'tis truly humble & submissive. The remedies of it are always at hand; And, with his Confessor's advice, he is always ready to apply them. His Confessor needs onely say the word; he never asks a reason why. He has a general reason for all doubtfull cases whatsoever; a reason which he always carries about with him; an everlasting reason which is ever the same, & which he is infallibly assured of, that in doubtfull cases nothing is so reasonable [Page 45]as Obedience. He never has any troublesome doubts, to vex him or molest him. He knows for certain, what he is bid do, & that he does, without ever doubting of it. He fears nothing but himself; he fears his frailty; he fears his being disobedient: These are the onely things he fears: And therefore he is fearfull without discouragement, carefull without anxiety, & diligent without any trouble. He is as diligent in the examen of his Conscience, as men of business are in any serious affair. More than this, he is not obliged to: and so much as this, is as easy to him, as it is ordinary to every body else. He is so humble, as to enquire of his Confessor, what length of time he pleases to allow for his examen; and so obedient, [Page 46]that he has no inclination to exceed his allowance. He begins his work, goes on with it, & ends it, all with the same ease.
He knows very well that the general reason of his Obedience is grounded upon as firm a foundation, as the rock it self, upon which the Church is built: and therefore he never enquires after any particular reasons, why his Confessor allows him no more time. He not onely despises all these curiosities, but even hates them: because he firmly believes, they are as pernicious as they are superfluous. Nor is it any wonder he believes it, if it be true, that seeing is believing; for he plainly sees the sad experience of it, in his proud & willfull neighbours, who are never quiet, but are always restless & uneasy; never contented, but [Page 47]always labouring in vain to build Security upon the sandy foundation of their own weak Reason. A Foundation which is never firm; but either flies like dust before each puff of Wind, or else is washt away, & chang'd with every Tide.
CHAP. V. Nothing more unreasonable than a boundless Liberty of reasoning.
IT happens very unluckily for us, that the chief Faculty we have, which God has given us to govern all the rest, is sometimes the most ungovernable of them all: and that our Reason, which calls them all to an account, is sometimes the most unaccountable it self. Our Saviour [Page 48]says (t) Salt is good: but if the Salt have lost its savour, wherewith shall it be season'd? It is neither fit for the Land, nor for the Dunghill, but men cast it out. In the same manner, Reason is good: 'tis good, to oversee our Appetites, our words, & Actions: 'tis good, to watch them, & to keep them within the bounds of Temperance & Moderation: 'tis good, to summon them before the Bar, examine, reprehend, & punish them for their transgressions: All this, right Reason is good for. But if our Reason it self be the greatest transgressor, the most intemperate, the most extravagant of all; What is it good for, but to be cast out of doors, and (u) troden under foot by men? This, I confess, is a hard saying; a severe Sentence: [Page 49]but yet, by what has been already said, it plainly appears, it is not more severe than it deserves.
Humane Reason is the best thing in Nature, if rightly managed; & the worst, if a proud willfull creature have the keeping of it. Tis commonly said, that Pride will have a fall: Nor is it any wonder, if it be always true; because it looks too high to see the way before it. Tis like the Philosopher who fell into a ditch whilst he was gazing at the Stars. The Reason which God has given us, if rightly employ'd, would make us humble & submissive; it would open our eyes, to see how fallible we are; & open our ears to hear the advice of others, who are wiser than our selves. But, on the contrary, when Reason is abused, [Page 50]& ill applied, it makes us proud & willfull: it puffs us up with a vain esteem of our own judgment; & the higher it raises us, the greater fall it gives us.
The fall of our first Parents had an influence upon the Understanding as well as the Will of their posterity: and a great part of our original disease consists in an insatiable Curiosity, by which we aim at being like the Highest. We would know all things, and have a reason for every thing. This is the desperate condition of those scrupulous persons, to whom I here address my self. They are brainsick with too much reasoning. They thirst after reason, as dropsical people after drink: and, the more you give them, the more you encrease the distemper. Reason without submission, [Page 51]is the very thing which makes them sick: and nothing will ever cure them, but an universal Submission, in all doubtfull cases, without any particular reasons for it. Their Understanding raves continually after an infinity of idle & unnecessary notions: and, to make it sober, there is nothing like darkening the windows; for, whilest you let the light break in upon it, you will never bring it to it self.
At this rate, you'l say, God gave us our Reason to little purpose; if, in doubtfull cases, it be better to resign it, than to use it. I beg your pardon. Our Reason is given us, to as much purpose as our other Faculties are: It is given us, to make right use of it; and not to enjoy the pleasure of it at our own discretion. [Page 52]We are as much obliged to observe the Rules of Temperance in reasoning, as in eating & drinking: and our Curiosity of knowing too much is oftentimes as dangerous as either Gluttony or Drunkenness. There are many things which are not proper for us to eat: and there are many more, which are as improper for us to know. But a proud Mind is like a depraved Appetite, & both are most inclined to what is most pernicious to them. Such was the disease of our first Parents, which still runs in the blood of the whole Family. They had knowledg enough to serve their turn, but were not contented with it: they were curious to try the experiment of what was meant by knowing good & evil: they knew it to their sorrow, & paid dearly for it. A [Page 53]little Blind Obedience would have kept them in the state of Innocence: but, to obey without a particular reason why, was more than they were willing to support. They would not endure to be kept in any degree of Darkness. Their insatiable Curiosity allow'd no terms of moderation to their Use of Reason. They would have their eyes opened: they would be as Gods: they would either know All or Nothing. See here an early example of the Intemperance of Humane Reason. See how speedily, & how severely it was punish'd. And learn from thence this usefull Lesson; that we are as much obliged to observe the rules of Temperance in Using of our Reason, as we are to keep a Moderation & Decorum in the Use of meat & drink.
All or Nothing, is the Motto of a Libertin. All that lies in his way, is lawfull to him. What was it All made for? What was He himself created for, but to enjoy the faculties which Nature has bestow'd upon him? He values no other use than the enjoyment of them. When he plays the Glutton, or the Drunkard, &c. he justifies himself with asking, Is it not lawfull for a man to eat, & drink, &c. What were All these things made for? What were his Appetites & Reason made for, but to pick & chuse, love & hate, think & do, whatêre he pleases? The thinking part of him (which is a thing he scarce knows what to think of) seems capable of knowing All things: and Why should any Laws of God or Man pretend to limit it? [Page 55]So unreasonable is the Use of Humane Reason, when it is a Slave to Pride & Willfullness which commonly are the keepers & disposers of it! My Reason is my own, say they; God did not give it me for nothing. What matter is't, how dark & doubtfull these things are? My Reason is my Judge. My boundless Reason is capable of knowing All things: Why should any body stint it? The proud & boistrous Sea when it swells high, & with a full tide rushes in upon the shore, if it could speak, might say the same thing with as good a grace: My boundless waves are able to oreflow the Earth: and Why should I stop here? Proud Creatures! Tis in vain to lift up your rebellious hands against the Hand that made you; (w) [Page 56] Though hand joyn in hand, you shall not be unpunish'd. He who has (x) shut up the Sea with doors, & said, Here shall thy proud waves be stay'd; He, I say has shut up Humane Reason within the compass of its Duty, & said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further.
CHAP. VI. The difference betwixt a Philosopher & a Christian, concerning the Submission of Humane Reason.
THe Liberties of natural Reason are as large as those of Nature it self: & as we know no certain bounds of natural causes & effects, so we prescribe no limits to our natural [Page 57]Reason in endeavouring to discover them. All this visible World, & even the Maker of it (so far as we can trace his footsteps, & understand him by the things which he has made) are the object & the subject of our speculations. Tis like a Garden of Delight, where Humane Reason may divert it self; & ramble up and down without ever finding any end of it. Tis a place of Pleasure, where a Philosopher dayly meets with fresh discoveries of entertainment for his curiosity, which is the onely greedy Appetite he has. His business does not lie in Action, but in Contemplation: and, in this respect, he may truly say, the Natural World is all his own: He may think, & judge, & reason, as he pleases, concerning all, & every part, of it.
The Supernatural World is quite another thing. The great & glorious End, which all good Christians aim at, is Supernatural: and to make our natural reason the supreme Judge of matters relating to this End, is a thing manifestly unreasonable. For, although it be excusable in a Philosopher, to take nothing upon trust, it would be evidently unpardonable in a Christian. Of all the four last things, which Christians ought to remember that they may never sin; Death is the onely thing we naturally are assured of. No body's natural reason can demonstrate what we believe concerning Judgment, Hell, or Heaven. And yet, to prepare for this Judgment, to avoid this Hell, & to enjoy this Heaven, a good Christian sacrifices all things [Page 59]here, his fortune, his life, his friends, & whatsoever is most dear to him. At the approach of Death, he resigns his Spirit into the hands of God: and although he does not see in what his future Happiness consists; he puts his Confidence in God, who has reveal'd his Mercies to us; and in the Church, who has assured us of his Promises. He joyfully relies upon these great assurances of more than he is able to conceive: and is content to take them upon trust.
I do not wonder, that no body is worthy of Heaven, who dares not take God's word for it. But this I admire, that they who can trust God with their Souls, with their Eternity, with their unseen & unknown hopes of Happiness in Heaven; nevertheless cannot submit so far, [Page 60]as to trust him with their conduct upon Earth, & to rely upon the Guides which he has given them. If we can follow God so cheerfully into an unseen World: Why can we not follow him as cheerfully through an unknown Way? The Danger surely is the greatest in the End: and, if we can trust him when we part from hence, I know no reason why we may not trust him all the while we are here.
CHAP. VII. The different Sentiments of a Proud & an Humble Penitent, concerning Blind Obedience.
HAppy are they who are blindly Obedient, without [Page 61]demurring, reasoning, or disputing. They are embarkt in a Vessell, where they may sleep secure: they need not take any further care, they have Jesus Christ for their Pilot. All that we receive from God, we ought to Sacrifice to him; and consequently our Understanding as well as our Will. If we fail in this one point, our being exact in all the rest will signifie little or nothing. The fall of Lucifer, & his companions, is a sufficient proof. They were Angels in all other respects, and never had been Devils, if they had submitted their Understanding & their Will to him who made them. That Pride which alone was enough to cast the Angels out of Heaven, That alone, though we were Angels in all things [Page 62]else, is enough to hinder us from ever going thither. Our best way to secure our selves, & to discover the artifices of an Enemy who is as cunning as he is malicious, is to look upon Obedience as the touchstone of all the vertue and perfection which we aim at. The Devil can counterfeit all other vertues, but he could never counterfeit Obedience. Had he at first submitted his Will & Understanding to his great Superior, who made him; had he but been Obedient while he was an Angel, he had never been a Devil. If Obedience be our Rule, in all our Actions, & in all the circumstances of them; if it be our dayly business to improve & grow more perfect in complying with this Rule; it is impossible that we [Page 63]should ever erre. We cannot but know what we are bid to do; and, if we know that, we know the high-way to Heaven: Let us onely do as we are bid, and we shall certainly go thither. As long as the Sheep follow their Shepherd, they are safe: but, if any of them go astray from the Flock, 'tis no wonder they are devoured by the Wolves.
These are the Sentiments of an humble Penitent. But they who are proud and willfull, are not so easily satisfied concerning these matters. The very thought of Blind Obedience is like news of death, to their beloved Curiosity, & darling Humour, which they are so desperately fond of. If Death it self should come within their view, & shew his Sythe, and [Page 64]onely some few Sands at the bottom of the Glass, it would not chill their Spirits more than it does to think their Curiosity must be buried alive, & their Humour lie as low as dust, without ever rising again. If they were truly Penitent, the Spirit of Repentance would inspire a holy revenge in punishing those Faculties of the Soul, which were the instruments of Sin. They would punish their Will, by restraining it in things which are indifferent, & mortifie their Understanding, by resigning it in matters which are doubtfull. If they consider'd seriously the extravagancies which attend their Pride & Curiosity, and the pernicious consequences of their Willfull Humour, they would hate them now, as much as heretofore [Page 65]they loved them: they would not suffer them so much as to see the Light, which they are so unworthy of, but willingly condemn them to the Darkness of a Dungeon, during life. Tis a severe Sentence: But what have you to say against it, that it may not pass?
What am I the better for my Reason, if I may not act according to it?
In doubtfull cases, you never act more conformably to your own right reason, than when you renounce the probability of your Speculations, & submit them to your Judge without reasoning the matter with him.
My Confessor may be mistaken.
Very well: He may so. But does not God know that as well as you? And yet he has appointed [Page 66]him to be your Judge.
I really believe he is mistaken.
You may believe the contrary, if you please; as long as you are not certain of it.
I have a great many reasons to think him in the wrong, and no particular reason to think him in the right.
Put all your reasons in one Scale: put his Authority in the other: And, if it have as much weight with you as it ought to have, 'twill over weigh them all. His Authority is from God: Your reasons, which tempt you to despise it, are no better than Suggestions of the Devil. His Authority is absolutely certain & secure: Your reasons (if there happen to be any reason in them) are but doubtfull & uncertain. Put all [Page 67]this together: Consider it well: And you will soon be ashamed of disputing such matters any longer with your Confessor.
Is not This being what they call Priest-ridden?
The Wits of our profane Age are pleased to call it so. But some people are too witty, to be wise. Their business is not so much to understand any thing, as to laugh at all things. Whatever comes in their way, if it furnish matter for a jest, they take no further care. They have a merry time, while it lasts. But, when their Life's in danger, there are none more tractable in the hands of a Physician: They'l be Doctor-ridden as much as you please. Nay, if it be onely their Estate which is in jeopardy, They'l be Lawyer-ridden [Page 68]too. They pin their their faith upon their Lawyer's sleeve. They argue not the matter with him. They suffer not their Reason to come in competition with his Skill. He tell's them, This is Law. They do not conceive how it comes to be so. It seems unreasonable to them. And yet they believe him: they submit: and blindly follow his Advice. Besides, when all is done, they are Judge-ridden whether they will or no; and neither dare nor can complain of it: because they know very well, that no body is fit to live under any Form of Government, who will not submit to such Judges as are appointed by the Law. And truly, with all submission to his Majesty, I see no reason why we ought not to have some respect for God's [Page 69]Judges, as well as for the King's.
CHAP. VIII. A Scripture-Objection answer'd.
TIs written in Scripture, that (y) if the Blind lead the Blind, they both fall into the Ditch. But however, this Text, if rightly understood, is no good argument against Blind Obedience.
I. If both are innocently blind, 'tis certain that neither of them will fall into the pit of Hell, which here is represented by the Ditch. Because the Divine Justice cannot punish Innocency, or condemn the Blindness of those who are not guilty of it.
II. If a Confessor be proud & careless, so as to be guilty of his Blindness, nevertheless the Penitents who (in doubtfull matters) humbly & sincerely follow his Advice, will never be punish'd for his fault, but be rewarded for obeying him. Tis written in Scripture that the Soul which commits the Sin, the same shall die; and no, other shall suffer, either for it, or with it. The words are plain; (z) The Soul that sinneth, it shall die: The Son shall not bear the iniquity of the Father, but the wickedness of the wicked Father shall be upon him onely. From whence it evidently follows, that although the Ghostly Father be willfully and wickedly Blind, yet all Sincere & Humble Penitents [Page 71](in all their doubts) may innocently & securely submit to him: because, not being partners of his Guilt, they cannot possibly be made partakers of his Punishment.
III. If both are criminally blind; that is, if they love darkness, if they shut their eyes against the light, if they are blind because they have no mind to see, in a word, if they are proud & willfull, as the Pharisees & their Disciples were; Then indeed, they both deserve to fall into the Ditch.
For example: You have no mind to obey your Confessor, & therefore you will not believe him: You have a mind to follow your own humour, & therefore you hearken to those little reasons, which you seem to have for it. In this case, you [Page 72]you are not sincere, you are partial in your own favour: you are more willing to believe your self than to believe your Guide, & more desirous to please your self than to please God. This is the willfull part of your Blindness. Let us now consider the pride of it it. You are naturally curious in what belongs to you: you are wise in your own conceit, & puff'd up with the thought of being so: you think it very hard for any body else to understand you better than you understand your self, & therefore you value your own judgment too much, & your Confessor's too little. But yet your Pride and Willfullness are no excuse for your Blindness. One fault is no excuse for another. Your willfull Pride is a notorious fault: 'tis visible [Page 73]to every body else: and, if it did not blind you, it would be visible to your self. Tis in your power to be humble & submissive, if you please. Tis a vertue, which if you seriously endeavour to practise, God will help you: and, if you heartily beg it of him, he will not fail to give it you. Mean time, as blind as you are, you are not so thoroughly confident of your own opinion, but that you would be glad to have it seconded by the Authority of your Guide. For this reason, you are so eager to discourse with him; not to know his mind, but to let him know yours: not to submit to what he says, but to make him subscribe to what you think: not to learn his opinion, but to teach him your own. If [Page 74]you cannot prevail; you consult another; and another: And your business is to find, either a Guide that will be guided by you (which is no Guide at all) or else a Guide as much mistaken as your self, who is contented to lead you your own way; and then, to be sure, your Blindness will not excuse you, because 'tis your own fault from the beginning to the end. Had you humbly & sincerely relied upon the Guide which Providence appointed you, You had been certain, either to be in the right way, or to be blameless, if in the wrong. But since you proudly & willfully left a Guide according to God's heart, to take another according to your own, You sought for darkness, & for your punishment you found [Page 75]it: and then indeed, you may be sure, if your Blind Guide fall in to the Ditch, you'l fall in after him.
CHAP. IX. Pretences of Reason answerd.
ONe would think, the bare consideration of the follies & the mischiefs which attend the pride & willfulness of weighing & comparing every trifling reason pro and con, in every doubtfull matter, One would think, I say, that this alone were more than abundantly sufficient to satisfie any reasonable person, that nothing is more rational, than to silence these impertinent reasons, & to turn them out of doors. I am sure there is very good reason [Page 76]for it: and, if Reason does it, 'tis enough; the Enemies of Blind Obedience have no reason to complain.
And yet 'tis commonly their custom, not onely to complain but to object a great many odious things against it, which look as if they were a little spitefull in misrepresenting it. Has not God given us our Reason? Are we not accountable to him for it? And are we not bound in Duty to make the best use we can of it?
Tis easily answer'd: We certainly are so: and because our blind Submission is grounded upon the best Reason we have, therefore 'tis certain that we make the best use we can of it, when we blindly submit. Tis true; if a man pretended to banish all reason whatsoever, [Page 77]& to submit himself universally without any manner of reason for it; Then, I must, needs confess, our blind Submission would be the most unreasonable thing in the world. But this is never practised or advised by any that I ever heard of.
Whensoever we submit our speculative reasons to the Authority of a Confessor, 'tis always under the conduct & influence of our chief practical Reason, which is superior to them, & has a legal jurisdiction over them. Our speculations are numberless: and, in deciding doubtfull matters, if we give them audience, our labour is in vain. For, either we hear them all together, & then there is nothing but confusion: or else we hear them one by one, & then there is no end of them. Our [Page 78] practical notions lie within a little compass: they are given us by God himself as rules of life & action: they are few, and easily understood; they are plain, & easily applied; and, which is best of all, the operation of them is every jot as safe, as the understanding & applying of them are easie. These practical principles are the best Reason of Mankind. By these, in wordly affairs we behave our selves like Men; and by the same, in spiritual matters, we act like Christians; And therefore, if by these very principles we suspend & silence all those needless speculations, which are onely fit to trouble & molest us; if we command them to retire; and order them to give place to Authority: Where is the harm? Can [Page 79]you blame us for following the best Reason we have, & making the best use we can of it? When a man takes aim, & shuts one eye; you may say, he's blind, if you please: but the truth is, he onely winks with the left eye, that he may see much better with the right.
If this were well considerd, it would pacifie a little the minds of those people, who pursue so fiercely their pretensions to a boundless liberty of reasoning. They would soon discover, not onely that the Obedience, which I plead for, is not so blind as they are willing to represent it; but also that it allows them as much liberty as any reasonable man can wish for.
1. In things which are evident, [Page 80]or absolutely certain, no body questions but that our Reason has free room to exercise it self without restraint. No body ever goes to a Confessor to consult him, whether or no they ought to believe their Creed; whether the seven deadly sins be lawfull or not; or whether the ten Commandments ought to be observed. They have no need of troubling their Guides about those things which every body knows that all the Catholick world agrees in.
2. In matters which are dark and doubtfull, where Authority has hitherto been silent, & where we have not the opportunity of consulting it; we enjoy the self-same freedom, with all the rights & priviledges of exercising our Reason & Judgment.
3. In lesser doubts, which we can easily determine, we are not used to go to any man for counsel: 'tis onely when we are a little puzzled, when we are uneasy & perplext, 'tis onely then we have recourse to those who are commission'd to direct us. When we begin to spell & pudder upon difficulties, whether we may or may not, whether we ought or ought not; when we plainly find our selves at a loss, & know not how to satisfie our mind about the matter before us; when we begin to want a little help, & are glad with all our hearts to call for it: Pray tell me, is there any thing more reasonable than to refer these doubtfull cases to the arbitration of a Confessor, who is expressely deputed by God & his Church, [Page 82]to judge for those who are not capable of judging easily & clearly for themselves? Is not his advice worth our taking, when 'tis worth our asking? When we know not how to chuse for our selves, & therefore prudently resolve to let our Confessor chuse for us, Why should we quarrel with the same Prudence for obliging us to approve his choice? It would be a strange unreasonable perverseness indeed, if when we could not do the work our selves, we would not suffer any body else to do it for us.
When both parties are weary of an expensive suit of Law, & by common consent agree to make short work of it, & refer it to the arbitration of a neighbour; If it were your own case, & the Sentence were [Page 83]given against you, Would you presently fly back from your bargain, & refuse to stand to his Judgment? I am sure no man of Honour would do it. In the same manner, when a case is doubtfull, when your speculative reasons are not able to decide it to your satisfaction, when you grow quite weary, & despair of ending the dispute; you cannot think of any thing better, than to appeal to the Authority of your Confessor; nor can I think of any thing worse, than to refuse his Arbitration, when you had not onely accepted, but desired, it. You know very well, that in any temporal matter, it would not be lookt upon as fair & honest dealing. What have you to say in your defence?
Is it fitting that I should submit without a reason?
Pray, what reason had you to consult him? Was it not because you found your self unsatisfied with all your own particular reasons, and therefore wisely abandon'd them to appeal to his Authority? If this were a good reason, to appeal; why is it not a good one, to submit? Is it not a shame, to put such an affront upon the Common Reason of mankind, as to use it like a bauble, onely fit for childrens-play? and to be always shisting backwards & forwards, first from reason to authority, & then from the the same authority to the same reason again? This is never the way to end any dispute, but always the way to make it endless.
I do not fly back from Authority to my own reason, but onely am curious to know his reasons, because I believe they may be better than mine.
And yet, after all, if he should tell you his reasons, you would not be satisfied with them, till you had well examined them, & made them your own. His Authority would signifie nothing at all; nor his Reason neither, any further than your own reason approves it. So that, from the Authority which you appeal'd to, you manifestly fly back to your own reason again. The proudest creature in the world, would do as much as this: nor can you shew me the least appearance of Christian Humility, in this way of proceeding.
Well; but when I am once convinced, I shall be quiet ever after.
It seems you are vain enough to think so, in spite of all your dayly experience to the contrary. You know very well, that the April-Sun-shine is not more unconstant, than the clearness of your reasons. One moment they shine bright, & the next they are under a cloud. How often have you thought your self convinc'd? How oft have you rejoyc'd at it, & thank'd your Confessor for it? and presently after, you have been much more in pain, & more tormented than before. Your speculations, which appear'd to be entirely routed, rallied up again with double forces of recruits, & with a fresh assault broke in upon your mind, [Page 87]ruffled your thoughts, and riffled all the treasure of your peace.
Tis very true; but I beg one answer more; onely to this one question: and then I'm confident I shall be satisfied.
Tis a thousand pities, you should not be satisfied, upon such easy terms. But pray, consider how many thousands of these one-questions you have had an answer to already; and all to no other purpose, than to render your condition dayly worse & worse. Reason to Scruples, is like Oyl to Fire: Water may put it out; but Oyl will rather feed it, & encrease the Flame.
Tis Charity in a Confessor, to instruct me: Is he not my Teacher, as well as my Judge?
Yes: And he is your Judge [Page 88]as well as your Teacher. His Charity does not oblige him, nor his Prudence permit him, to teach you any thing, but what he judges fitting for you. There are a great many truths, which are onely proper to feed your Curiosity, & very unfit to nourish Piety, much less, to improve your Humility. When your Confessor has judged the case, if you ask his reasons for it, & will not submit till you are thoroughly satisfied that he is certainly in the right; it is no longer He that judges for you: he onely instructs you, & helps you to judge for your self. To what purpose are you so inquisitive? Tis a thing not onely needless, but dangerous. For, 1. If it be usefull to you, he'l instruct you, of his own accord: 'tis his [Page 89]Duty so to do: and, if he does not, 'tis his fault, not yours. 2. Although his Conscience tells him, that it is a great deal better & safer for you, not to know his reasons: yet perhaps his complaisance, or (if you please) his good nature, may incline him to hazard the peace of your Soul, by gratifying of your Curiosity: And then you are both to blame; you, for asking; he, for condescending.
If Reason be a good thing in it self, why may I not ask its And, if my Motive, of desiring it, be also good, why may I not have it for asking?
You have already too much reason: you have a great deal more than you well know what to do with: and therefore, though it be good in it self 'tis far from being good for you. [Page 90]And truly, if it be not good for you, if you know not what to do with it, if you have already too much of it, I do not easily conceive what sort of good motive you can have, to wish for more.
I am very uneasy with fears & apprehensions of doing amiss: this uneasiness is a great hindrance to me, in my duties & devotions; and therefore I am always busy, either studying or enquiring, to find out a clear & certain reason, to secure me from all fear.
I understand you very well. You are like a Gentleman who was very uneasy for fear of wanting money. He thought that if once he could yet the Philosopher's Stone, it would change all things into Gold, and therefore was always busy [Page 91]in studying how to find it out: but 'twas his misfortune, that the thing he sought for, was not to be found. A speculative certainty of the goodness & lawfullness of every particular action, & every circumstance of it, would be a fine thing indeed, if it were to be had. But before you inquire any further after it, I beg you to consider how manifestly impossible it is to dissect one single action into all its parts, and to read particular lectures of morality upon them, with as many demonstrations to confirm the truth & the exactness of them all. 1. In one single action, besides the substance of it, our Divines observe no less than six or seven general circumstances, as Person, Time, Place, Motive, Means, & Manner of doing. [Page 92]The harmomy & due proportion of all these must first be well observed & clearly proved, before 'tis possible to form a speculative Judgment of the Whole, especially a certain one, which may exclude all fear. 2. These general circumstances are like spawners, and often have a great many little particular ones within them. 3. Even these little ones, which hardly are discernable by common eyes, may be dissected too, & still afford new matter for a Scene of fresh discoveries. 4. Some of these circumstances, even those of the greatest importance, are such thin vanishing things, that 'tis impossible for any body's thoughts to lay fast hold of them. The Purity of our Intention, the Sincerity of our Endeavours, the [Page 93]Exact proportion of our Diligence, &c, are things which all the natural Reason in the world is never able to demonstrate. 5. Although the general Maxims of Morality are clear & evident, yet nevertheless the use & application of them oftentimes are hid & wrapt up in obscurity & darkness. They are like those subterraneous secrets which lie too deep for humane industry to reach them. The Art of Man can neither fetch them out, & place them in the open light: nor can it contrive a way to go & see them where they are; because, in such a deep descent, the Lamp burns blew immediatly, & soon goes out. Did you ever hear of a man so foolish, as to attempt the digging of a staircase to the Center of the [Page 94]earth? Tis every jot as impossible to make a clear discovery of Secrets which lie hidden in the center of our Hearts.
Is not this enough to drive a fearfull Soul into Despair?
Tis very well, if it does so. Tis the very thing I would be at. Despair is not always bad; but sometimes absolutely necessary. Many a man has ruin'd a good estate, for want of a little despair. The Gentleman, I spoke of last, who was so fond of trying costly experiments, to find out the Philopher's Stone, if in good time he had despair'd of finding it, he might have saved his labour, & his estate too. The sooner you despair, the better, provided you despair in the right place. There are many Souls in Heaven, who would [Page 95]never have been there, if they had not despair'd here. They would never have been so much in love with the next world, if they had not despair'd of being happy in this. They would never have pray'd so heartily & so devoutly for the assistance of God's grace, if they had not despair'd of being able to work their Salvation without it. And I verily believe that You your self will never submit so humbly, readily, & cheerfully, as you ought, to the Authority of your Confessor, till you despair entirely of ever finding any comfort in your own fantastical speculations.
CHAP. X. Pretences of Conscience consider'd.
TIs impossible for a Timorous Conscience to be quiet without being certain. Tis also impossible, in the darkness of moral doubts, to find out any speculative certainty. And consequently it highly concerns us to consider what practical certainty may be had, and to make the best markets we can of it.
I have, in the beginning of the last chapter, already observ'd; that in the decision of moral doubts our speculative reasons are always subordinate to the practical principles of our Prudence. Our speculations have no right to any share in the [Page 97]Government of our lives, any further than our Prudential Reason, which always ought to have an inspection over them, approves them as rules to walk by. They have onely a consulting voice in all deliberations, when and where they are summon'd to appear: Our Soveraign Reason still presides in the Assembly: It determines all things, at its own discretion, not theirs: And, if they happen to grow tedious & impertinent, as oftentimes they are, it has the power to prorogue them, or dissolve them, as it pleases; & decide the matter without them.
So that here are two paths before us, & onely two, which lead us to a practical certainty: the one, by way of speculative reasoning; the other, by [Page 98]way of Authority: and the main question is; which of these two is best?
When we ground our practical certainty upon the probability of speculative reason, we commonly meet with some difficulty & danger by the way, before we come at it. A long examen oftentimes is necessary, to weigh each grain of probability; whether it be more than it need be, or less than it should be, or just gold-weight. Tis true; a man of sense & sound judgment, may make a very good shift to overcome the difficulty & the danger too: But how these troublesome circumstances will agree with the temper & constitution of a timorous Conscience, I do not so easily conceive.
On the other hand, when [Page 99]all our doubtfull & uncertain speculations are laid aside, and our practical certainty is grounded wholly & entirely upon the Authority of a Confessor; the case is quite alter'd: 'tis no longer, either difficult or dangerous. There's no examen requisite: no weighing of Authority by grains: the least commission from God, & patent from his Church, is equally easy to be known, & equally secure to be relied upon. Tis a rule which never varies: 'tis applied the same way, to all doubts whatsoever: & the very A, B, C, of practical Reason, is enough to teach us the application of it. 1. In all doubtfull cases I may securely relie upon my Confessor's Authority, without examining his reasons. 2. My present difficulty is a doubtfull [Page 100]case: 3. And therefore, in my present difficulty, I may securely relie upon his Authority, without examining his reasons. This is the whole lesson: there is no need of any more: and 'tis a lesson so short & so plain that a body must be very dull indeed, who can be long in learning it. It includes onely three points: 1. the universal principle; 2. the application; and 3. the conclusion. The last follows evidently from its premises: the second cannot fail: the first is absolutely certain: And what can any reasonable person wish for more?
In the next chapter, I shall make it my business to prove by Scripture, the absolute certainty of it. Mean time I shall apply my self to consider the two sorts of practical certainty: [Page 101]1. in what they agree; 2. in what they differ; 3. which of the two is better, & more favourably calculated for the ease & comfort of a timorous Conscience.
SECT. I. The two sorts of Practical Certainty explain'd.
THey both agree in being equally obscure, & leaving us in the dark, without satisfying us whether or no the Action or Omission be lawfull in it self. They onely undertake to assure us that whether it be lawfull in it self or not, 'tis certainly lawfull to us: and truly this is as much as a wise man would wish for, or a good man needs to care for. Whether [Page 102]or no it be lawfull in it self, is onely a speculative doubt; and the decision of it, is not necessary for our practise. Tis enough that we have done our duty in enquiring after it: and that we have either well consider'd the sufficient probability of our speculations, or more wisely consulted the sure Authority of our Confessor. This done; we are as secure, as we are sincere.
Although we are not speculatively certain of its being lawfull in it self; we are practically certain of its being lawfull to us. We hope the thing is lawfull in it self. If we knew for certain that it is not so, we would not do it. We have done what's fitting for a good Christian to do in doubtfull cases▪ More than this we are not obliged [Page 103]to: And therefore we securely lay aside all further care. We are practically certain that, if we are mistaken, we are not guilty of it. Our God, who sees our hearts, is as well pleased with us, as if we had not been deceiv'd: He will not fail to reward the Sincerity of our good intentions: And when the Humility of blind Obedience goes along with them, they will be acceptable to him upon more accounts than one, and receive a double recompence.
SECT. II. When we rely upon our Confessor's Authority, our Certainty is Absolute.
ALthough both sorts of practical certainty agree [Page 104]in being equally obscure, on the one side; they do not so well agree in being equally clear & comfortable, on the other: and the difference is the greater, because it lies in the very foundation of them. The one is grounded upon the Probability of speculative reason: the other upon the Authority of a Confessor: and betwixt these two the difference is greater than many people imagine.
When a Penitent judges for himself according to the Probability of his own speculative reason, he must take great care to proceed prudently in his determinations. For,
1. If he be rash or negligent, if he use not the caution & circumspection which is requisite, if he do not well consider the sufficient probability [Page 105]of his reasons, He is sure to be guilty, whether the thing be lawfull in it self or not. For, if it happen to be lawfull, 'tis better fortune than his Rashness deserves: And, if it be unlawfull in it self, 'tis certainly so to him, because his Negligence, which he must one day answer for, can never justifie him in it. He may thank himself for being mistaken: 'tis his own fault, that he is so: and 'tis impossible for one fault to be a just excuse for another.
2. If he be partial in examining the probability of his opinion, if any criminal inclination make him more attentive to the one side than the other, if he have not patience to consider the full strength of the reasons against him, but [Page 106]chiefly apply the whole force of his wit, to magnifie the reasons which are favourable to his Passion, Interest, or Humour; his Blindness is willfull: and all the world agrees, that willfull Ignorance is no excuse. Tis a common case, which dayly happens. We frequently take notice of it, & clearly see it, in our neighbours, though we are not willing to observe it in our selves. But the more common it is, the greater is our obligation to consider the difficulty & the danger to which a Penitent is always exposed, when he pretends to judge for himself, & to build his practical certainty upon the sandy ground of his own probable reasons, without removing the rubbish, & examining well the foundation, [Page 107]before he ventures to raise his edifice upon it.
He who builds upon a rock, is free from all this trouble. He needs not dig deep to search a foundation, which (without examining) he knows to be as firm as he can wish it. Such is the advantage of that practical certainty which is grounded upon the Authority of a Confessor. And to confirm this truth, which is of such importance: to all Penitents, I have amongst our Doctors & Divines made choice of one beyond exception, who not onely teaches it himself, but says it is the common doctrine of the rest. He proposes, & proves, three duties of Blind Obedience, from whence I have drawn three general rules, which are undoubtedly as [Page 108]lawfull & as commendable in secular Penitents, as in religious Persons; whosoever is the Superior of the one, or Confessor of the other.
I. Although (a) in general we know our Confessor may be mistaken; yet, in particular, we never are to suppose He is so, unless we are CERTAIN of it. If therefore we are not certain of his being in the wrong, we may lawfully suppose, he is in the right: and by consequence,
II. We need not (b) search [Page 109]into his reasons, nor know the causes, why he bids us follow his advice. Because, if we may lawfully suppose him in the right, 'tis evident we need not be inquisitive about the matter, for fear of his being in the wrong. And hence it follows also, that
III. We need not (c) consider his imperfections & his faults; nor be therefore less ready to obey him. Because although his Ignorance or Negligence may possibly mislead him, yet, since 'tis none of our business to enquire about it, we are every jot as safe, as if an Angel came from Heaven to assure us of his being in the right.
If you ask me, Why then does S. F. Sales advise us (d) to chuse one amongst ten thousand? Why does he tell us, he must be replenish'd with Charity, Knowledge, & Prudence: & that if one of these three parts be wanting in him, there is danger? How shall we chuse a Confessor, without considering his imperfections & his faults? The Answer to all this, is easily found in the same chapter.
1. When B. Sales speaks of chusing one in ten thousand, he no more intends that we should enter into a strict examen of our Confessor's capacity, than he means that we should abstain from Confession, till we have ten thousand Confessors at our service. The number and the choice are neither of them [Page 111]to be understood in the rigour of the expression: because it would then follow, that none but some few Soveraign Princes could ever be able to go to Confession, for want of number enough to chuse in. But nevertheless, this way of expressing is very proper to undeceive some people, who are not at all sollicitous what Confessor they have; provided he be a man for their purpose, a man of their own humour, or a man who is easily prevail'd with, to let them do as they please. As for his Charity, they do not desire it; his Knowledge, they do not want it; & his Prudence also may be spared, because they have enough of their own. To oppose this pernicious maxim, our Saint assures us, there are fewer to be [Page 112]found than men imagine, who are fit & capable of such an Office; & that there is danger, if by our fault these parts are wanting in him; that is, if we purposely make choice of a man, for this very reason, because we believe him deficient in these excellent Qualities, & because we are so proud & willfull that we cannot endure to deal with a man whose Knowledge and Prudence may enable him to direct us, or a man whose Charity may easily inspire him with sufficient courage, when he is obliged, to contradict us. They who know their Passions are strong, & think their Reason is so too, are little desirous of being directed, & less of being contradicted. And therefore B. Sales [Page 113]takes notice that (e) one of the last advices of the great S. Lewis to his Son, was in this kind: Confess often, & chuse a Confessor of learning & discretion, that can & dares advertise thee, to do such things as are necessary for thy Salvation. If all the world would follow this advice, there would not be so many as there are, who purposely avoid those Confessors who can & dare advertise them. Their ignorance, when they mistake, is willfull & cannot excuse them: but on the contrary, they deserve to be abandon'd in their darkness, because they purposely took care to avoid the light.
2. B. Sales says not one syllable of a Penitent's being obliged to make a strict enquiry [Page 114]into the Knowledge Charity & Prudence of a Confessor. He knew very well that such a method would expose them to an infinity of rash judgments, & that God would never give a blessing to such a way of proceeding. Tis true; we cannot help seeing & hearing: neither can we avoid thinking of what we see & hear: and, if the appearances are very great, we may make a reasonable use of them, by way of a prudent caution: we may wisely & safely chuse the man who seems the better qualified & fitter for the Office: but all this while, we need not form a peremptory judgment in the case; and after all, we may perhaps be grievously mistaken in the matter. For which reason B. Sales is so far from advising us to [Page 115]consider well the faults & imperfections of a Confessor, before we chuse him, that he onely sends us to our prayers, to (f) demand him instantly at the hands of Almighty God; and, having once obtain'd him, he bids us bless his Divine Majesty for so great a benefit. He tells us, that the way to find a good Confessor, is to (g) fear God, & with an humble mind affectuously desire our advancement in Piety. He tells us, that we ought to pray to God with very great instance, to furnish us with one according to his heart. He tells us moreover, for our comfort, that, although it were needfull to send an Angel from Heaven, as he did to young Tobias, he will not fail to supply our want, [Page 116]but that he will undoubtedly give us a good & faithfull Guide.
3. He expressely teaches, that we (h) ought to hearken to our Confessor, as to an Angel descended from Heaven, to conduct us thither: And any man who has his thoughts about him, must needs perceive that, if this be true, the rules of Lessius cannot possibly be false. For, if we were once assured of an Angel being sent from Heaven to direct us,
I. We never could suppose that God, who sent him, had permitted him to mistake his message, unless we were CERTAIN of it.
II. The respect we owe to an Ambassador from Heaven, would not suffer us to question [Page 117]any of his orders, by searching into the reasons & endeavouring to know the causes of them.
III. Though nothing be good & perfect but God, yet nevertheless it would be a very absurd thing, if we were therefore less ready to obey him, because, with curious observation, we may possibly discover imperfections, even in an Angel.
My veneration for S. F. Sales has led me a great deal further than I first intended: but however it has not led me out of my way; because I was going to prove, that the practical certainty which is grounded upon the sure Authority of a Confessor, is absolute; without requiring any terms on our side to support it: whereas the other, which is grounded upon [Page 118]the Probability of speculative reason, is onely conditional, and always supposes some certain articles to be observed exactly on our part; so that if we fail in the performance of these conditions, all our appearances of practical certainty will never be sufficient to excuse us.
SECT. III. When we depend upon the Probability of our own Reason, our Certainty is onely Conditional.
IN the last Section I compared that practical certainty, which is grounded upon a Confessor's Authority, to a building which is raised upon a rock: But as for the other, which is grounded upon Probability, I [Page 119]cannot compare it better than to a building erected upon a floating island. Such an edifice, may be made as strong as one pleases, & as well compacted in it self: but the foundation is naturally a little suspicious; it may break; it may sink; and either the one, or the other, is enough to ruine the inhabitants. If the Foundation never fall to pieces, if it never be swallow'd up; All's well. But how shall a body do to be thoroughly satisfied concerning these matters? Such if's as these are a little troublesome to a man's thoughts; and very well deserve to be consider'd, before one ventures to dwell in such a wandring & uncertain habitation.
For the better understanding of the whole matter, I shall [Page 120]endeavour to give a short and familiar account of the common notions of Probability. There are two sorts of it: the one, intrinsecal; the other, extrinsecal: Intrinsecal Probability is when we consider the real merits of the cause, the principles & consequences of it, the arguments & reasons which have a particular relation to it, or a natural connexion with it. Extrinsecal Probability is when we have no regard to any of these things, but onely consider the personal merits of the author who has credit with us. We have some particular reasons, best known to our selves, which make us think him wise & good, and the greater the appearances are of his being wise enough to know the truth, [Page 121]& good enough to tell it us sincerely, the greater is the probability of his doctrine being true, & the more we are contented to rely upon it, without enquiring into the reasons of it. We suppose his reasons are good, because they are his, And because his personal merits are altogether forreign to the merits of the cause, therefore this sort of probability is call'd extrinsecal.
When I speak of authors, I mean books as well as men, For we converse with both, and value them more or less, according as we fancy they deserve it. Some there are, who are much inclined to prefer the dead authors before the living ones: But I am much afraid, they have no great reason for it. A book, say they, is free [Page 122]from passion interest & humour. Very true, it is so: and so is the man himself, when he is dead: But he was alive, when he was writing; and, for ought we know, his passion interest & humour might be then alive, as well as he. Be it how it will, I am sure the living authors have some very considerable advantages over the dead ones. 1. The living can speak for themselves; and, if they are not rightly understood, they can explain the difficulty more clearly. The dead can speak no more; and, if we do not understand the text, they are not now in a capacity of putting a comment in the margent. 2. We may acquaint a living author with the particular circumstances of our case; but a dead one has no [Page 123]ears to hear us. We may read his writings, and observe what general doctrines he lays down before us: But, as there are few rules without some exceptions, we may still be in a doubt; and, if we are, he is not able to resolve us. So that upon the whole matter, there appears to be as much difference, as betwixt a Doctor & a Dispensatory. And I am very confident, that several people have lost their lives by tampering with Dispensatories, who otherwise might have enjoy'd both life & health, if they had but, in time, consulted their Doctor. In fine, whether the Author be living or dead, 'tis certain that we either consider the merit of his reasons, or the merit of his person. If we relie upon the merit of his arguments, [Page 124]having examin'd them, possess'd them, & made them our own, our probability is what they call intrinsecal. But if we wave his reasons, & rely entirely upon the merit his person, because we are perswaded that a wise man is not easily mistaken, nor a good man easily prevail'd upon to tell a lie, our probability is meerly extrinsecal.
Let us now apply these notions to our present purpose. Tis certainly lawfull to follow a probable opinion: and, whether the probability be intrinsecal or extrinsecal, 'tis no great matter, provided it be sufficient. We are are onely obliged to look before we leap, and to consider well the ground before we offer to go upon it. I have already explain'd the difficulty [Page 125]of examining, & the danger of chusing our opinion: I have also intimated, that any judicious person may easily make a very good shift to overcome the difficulty & the danger too; in confirmation of which, I shall onely add one plain reflection. We are not obliged to use any extraordinary care & diligence in considering & searching the probability of our opinion: 'tis enough that we proceed with the same seriousness & industry of endeavour, which we commonly use in worldly affairs, such as are of some importance to us. For example: If we seek truth with the same ardour & vigour, as we seek a temporal advantage; if we go to look for it, with as good a will as men go usually to their markets or their fairs; if we are [Page 126]in as good earnest, and as carefull about it, as we are in driving a bargain; if we reject the plausible suggestions of our passion, interest, or humour, as we do the flattering words & kind insinuations of a person whom we verily believe to have a design of over-reaching us: If we do but this (and all this is no more than what we dayly do) We need not fear: We are Secure.
Whensoever a man has done as much as I have here described, the lawfullness of following his opinion is very certain, although the truth of it be onely probable. He has a practical certainty that the thing is lawfull to him, although he onely has a speculative probability of its being lawfull in it self. And this alone is enough to [Page 127]pacifie the minds of all considerate persons: for they will easily assure themselves of having done as much as I have here explain'd; and then, although their certainty be onely conditional, yet being well assured of having perform'd the conditions, they are as safe & as much at ease, as if their certainty were absolute.
But it is not so with scrupulous people who are always more or less confounded & amaz'd with too much fear. Nothing but an absolute certainty will do their work, a conditional one will never serve their turn. Neither is it any wonder, that Scrupulosity and Probability can never agree; because Probability is naturally more or less defective, & Scrupulosity [Page 128]is always so uneasy, so exceptious, so unreasonable in its expectations, that it is impossible to please it. Tis a peevish sort of Humour, which is always finding fault, & always suspecting the worst; and when things are as well as they need be, it quarrels with them because they are not better than they can be. In these occasions, Probability is blamed, without deserving it. For, in moral doubts where speculative certainty is not to be found, a reasonable probability is as much as the matter will bear, 'tis as much as all our speculations can discover, and therefore is a very good thing in it self. But, as good as it is, it is not so good as Scrupulosity would have it be. Scrupulosity would fain be speculatively certain; [Page 129]& Probability can never be so: and therefore they can never agree upon the point. Now, for my part, I cannot but look upon this, as a very extravagant humour: For, although a man may possibly be so covetous, as to wish he could make a groat of two-pence; yet however, 'tis evidently an unreasonable thing, to refuse a good two-pence, because it is not worth a groat.
If scrupulous people could possibly content themselves with a reasonable proportion of Probability, there might be some hopes of their finding comfort in it. But they are so excessively fond of certainty, that they can never rest without it; and would be almost ready to die with despair, if they did not live in hopes of it. For this reason, [Page 130]they are so very busy in searching for the greatest probability, as being the nearest to it: and indeed they are not to be blamed for thinking that the greatest is the best: but, on the contrary, they very much deserve to be commended for being most pleased with it, and for making it part of their chief business to find it. But the truth is, all excess is blameable, even in things the most excellent: and the justest cause in the world can never justifie the intemperance of any passion in the prosecution of it. Their fault lies in their being over-much concern'd, & being blinded with too much fear; which undoubtedly displeases God, as much as a loving confidence would please him. They are like a man, whose master [Page 131]sends him to the wood; Go, fetch me, says he, the best stick you can find. If he had said, a good one, the work had been easily done: but because he said, the best, therefore the poor man is so terribly afraid, he scarce knows where to turn himself: first, one stick pleases him: and then another; and another: the more variety he meets with, the more he is confounded with it; and, the more he is sollicitous to chuse the best, the less he is able to do it. Thus he wanders up & down, Ioses his labour, loses his patience, loses himself; and, by the time that he has found himself again, he has lost his Masters favour, by staying so very long, & chusing the worst stick at last.
This immoderate sollicitude [Page 132]were yet more pardonable, if when they find the probability they seek for, they would perswade themselves to be contented with it. But the same cowardly Spirit which puzzles them in the pursuit of it, does as much discourage them even when they think they have found it. When they have overtaken it, & see it fall quite short of their beloved certainty, they reckon all their labour lost, & are as much unsatisfied as ever. They are utterly disappointed in their expectation. They thought to arrive at speculative certainty by the way of probability: But they onely wearied themselves with trying the experiment, & found themselves as much mistaken, as little children are, who looking upwards from the bottom of [Page 133]a great mountain, are apt to imagine 'tis as high as Heaven; & that, if they were once at the top of it, they could touch the Skie with their hands: Pleas'd with the fancy, they resolve to try: but the higher they climb, the less hopes they have, & when they come there, they find the Skie as much above their heads as ever.
Tis in vain to tell such scrupulous persons that, although Innocent XI. has condemn'd the (i) least probability, yet Alexander VIII. has approved the (k) greatest. Nor is it to any [Page 134]purpose to talk to them of a middle way, & to let them know there are degrees of greater & lesser betwixt the two extreams of least and greatest. If you tell them that, although the lesser be warmly disputed, yet both parties are agreed that the greater is sufficient. All this will never pacifie their minds: because the greatest probability is always mixt with some little degree of uncertainty; and this uncertainty though never so little, is a breach which they find wide enough for thousands of fears to enter, & rush in upon them. Their fears are as unaccountable as those of little children, who are terrified with wonderfull stories of Apparitions & Spirits: though you shut the door as close as ever you can, yet if once they get [Page 135]a fancy in their head, that the bug-bears can creep in at the key-hole, they'l quake and tremble as much, as if the door were wide open.
Tis no less in vain to assure them that, although the case in question may be sinfull & unlawfull in it self, yet having taken such pains to find the truth, it is impossible that this may-be should ever do them the least harm: because, although their probability falls short of speculative certainty, yet shey are practically certain that the case is innocent & lawfull to them, if they have not been negligent in examining it, or if they have not been partial in approving it. A Security upon doubtfull conditions, is no security at all; and the conditions here specified, are always doubtfull to [Page 136]them. Alas! They never think themselves sufficiently Sincere & Diligent: and therefore these if's can never comfort them, because these if's are the very things they are so much afraid of. Their first apprehensions are, that the thing perhaps may be unlawfull in it self. Afterwards, when they begin to aim at a conditional certainty, & to consider well the aforesaid if's; their fears are now doubled, instead of their being double-guarded from them. They are now allarm'd with fresh recruits of new-rais'd reasons, which assault them in two several places at once, and with greater numbers than before. And now their thoughts are busy & uneasy with endless doubts & suspicious, that maybe they have been negligent, & [Page 137] may-be they have been partial. So that all the comfort, which their conditional certainty affords them, serves onely to furnish them with two may-be's instead of one: which is just a down-right Tinkering of the matter, by mending one hole, & making two in the place of it. And therefore I need not add a word more, to prove that the absolute practical certainty, which is grounded upon the sure Authority of a Confessor, is the better certainty of the two, and much more favourably calculated for the ease & comfort of a Timorous Conscience.
SECT. IV. Objections of pretended Conscience answer'd.
TIs high time now to answer the objections of pretended Conscience. I call it it pretended, because it goes by a name which it does not really deserve, a name is none of its own. Tis a pretence which people make use of, when they have a mind to think what they will, and do what they please. A pretence, by which they cheat themselves, as well as their neighbours; and endeavour to avoid private remorses, as well as publick censures, by calling upon the sacred name of Conscience.
The main Objection, which [Page 139]gives ground to all the rest, is this. Although the practise be lawfull in it self, yet, if I think really it is a Sin, my thinking so is it not enough to make it a Sin?
In answer to this, I frankly own, that Conscience, rightly understood, is the true Judge of our Actions: but scrupulous persons are grievously mistaken in it. All their speculations pass for Conscientious: all their upstart fancies usurp the title of Conscience: Humility, Obedience, & all the train of Vertues which attend them, must now & then be turn'd out of doors, to make room for a Sin-making thought, which they are pleas'd to dignifie with the venerable Character of Conscience. The Government of Reason would be a pretty sort [Page 140]of a thing indeed, if every thought, which occurs to our mind, were the right rule of our morality. It would be just like a non-sensical Monarchy, where every body is King de jure. Tis true; our Conscience is always our immediate Judge: but then there is scarce one thought in a hundred, which is really our Conscience: and, if they are not our Conscience, 'tis no matter what they are, or how many. There may arise in our minds a thousand of them (if you please) one after another; and every one of these thoughts may really think it is a Sin; and yet, if it is not a Sin in it self, these thoughts will never be able to make it a Sin.
Well. But how shall I discern that thought, which is my [Page 141]Conscience, from all those which are not?
How do you know the difference betwixt the Judge who sits upon the Bench, & the Lawyers who plead at the Bar, We have every one of us a Court of Judicature within us, where all our doubtfull cases are try'd & judg'd. All our thoughts which are concern'd in any thing belonging to the Trial, are summon'd to appear in Court. Our speculative Thoughts are the Lawyers, which open the Case, explain the circumstances of it, & propose the reasons which are either for it or against it. Whilst the matter is thus under debate our Thoughts are divided upon the point: One way, they plead it is a Sin; the other way, they plead it is not. Mean [Page 142]time, these thoughts are meerly speculative; because they are not rules to walk by, but are onely the opinion of the Lawyers, whose business is to dispute the question, & not to decide it. Amongst all the Thoughts which are employ'd in the whole Trial, there is onely One, which finally determines & judges the Case. This Thought is practical, because it is the Opinion of the Judge, the Sentence of the Court, & the Rule of our Practise. And This is the onely Thought which deserves the name of Conscience.
I purposely make use of this Allusion, to avoid School-terms; because I write for those who commonly are not well acquainted with them. And, for the better understanding of the main point, I shall endeavour to give [Page 143]a familiar account of three general cases which usually occur in the aforesaid Trial.
I. It happens sometimes, that the Lawyers, who plead it is a Sin, are able to prove it so plausibly, and with such strong appearance of Reason, that the adverse party is quite confounded and silenc'd. And then indeed, the Court being free from noise, the Judge's voice may easily be heard: and we may be assur'd it is our Conscience which tells us, it is certainly a Sin.
II. Sometimes it happens that the Lawyers, who plead it lawfull, have the greater probability on their side: But yet the others are obstinate in maintaining the probability of its being a Sin. In this occasion, there is a great noise in [Page 144]Court: The Judge pronounces sentence, that the thing is lawfull: The Lawyers are impertinent, & the same time cry, it is a Sin: And in this confusion we may easily mistake a Lawyer's voice, & think it is the Judge's. Our Conscience thinks it lawfull: and at the same time these unmannerly Thoughts continue clamorous, & still think really it is a Sin. But let them still think on; as long, & as really, as they please; 'tis certain they are never able to make it really be one.
III. At other times it commonly happens, that the Lawyers, who plead it lawfull, although they have great Probability on their side, yet they do not insist upon it: they wave all probable reasons, as being [Page 145]more or less defective: & onely ground their defence upon a practical principle, which is an undoubted maxim of the Law, that in all doubtfull cases one may securely relie upon a Confessor's Authority, without examining the reasons. In this case, the Lawyers, who plead it is a Sin, are bafled & quite put out of countenance. As for speculative certainty, which now is necessary to gain their point, they frankly own they have it not about them; And, as for probability, although they have abundance of it, yet the best being manifestly uncertain, the others despise it, & will not take the pains to answer it, but onely oppose the certain rule of a Confessor's Authority against it. When things are in this posture, the Trial is soon [Page 146]ended. Our Conscience immediatly pronounces Sentence, that the thing is certainly lawfull: and the Equity of this Sentence is so visible, that 'tis impossible to be mistaken in it.
According to these three cases, 'tis easy to give a short & plain Answer to the Question here proposed: If I think really it is a Sin, is not my thinking so enough to make it a Sin?
1. In the first case, you think 'tis certainly a Sin; you do not doubt the least but that it is so: And then indeed, although it be not a Sin in it self, This thought, as long as it continues thus certain, is enough to make it one.
2. In the second case, you have two thoughts in your mind at once: one way, you think [Page 147]it lawfull; the other way, you think it a Sin: And, if the first Thought be your Conscience, the second cannot make it a Sin. But if you are not able to discern, which of the two thoughts is the dictate of your Conscience, you must be content to suffer the mortification of being in a doubt, whether it be enough to make it a Sin, or not. But you have still this comfort left, that
3. In the third case, when you lay aside all these uncertain probabilities, and ground your self entirely upon the sure Authority of your Confessor, This mortifying doubt is easily and clearly resolv'd. For, whilst your Conscience relies upon the certainty of his Authority who tells you it is lawfull, 'tis manifest that all your other [Page 148] thoughts can never be enough to make it a Sin. They may be clamorous, they may be troublesome, they may afright you with more or less probability of its being unlawfull: But as long as you rely upon a certain rule, which always is a just excuse, & always makes your practice certainly lawfull to you; What signifie the vain appearances of probability, which always is uncertain, and never can amount to more than this, that perhaps 'tis really unlawfull in it self? Will any body in their right senses, quit a certain hold, to fasten upon a meer perhaps?
But may I then safely follow my Confessor's Advice, when my own opinion seems to me more probable?
Who doubts it? His Advice [Page 149]is a certain rule: your opinion contrary to it, though never so probable, is still uncertain: And therefore 'tis an undoubted Truth, that you may (l) safely follow his advice.
But what if I am still uneasy in my self, & terribly afraid it is a Sin? May I securely follow [Page 150]his Advice; in spite of all my fears?
Undoubtedly you may. Is it not evident, that we may always follow a certain rule, in spite of all the uncertainties in the world? And have not we just reason to (m) contemn our fears, when we are sure of being more afraid than hurt?
My fears, you'l say, are grounded upon a great many particular reasons: And is it not an unreasonable thing to turn these reasons out of doors, without first confuting them?
Pray, is it not an unreasonable thing to undertake the needless labour of an endless work? Are they not abundantly [Page 151] confuted by their own confession? They onely boast their probability; they do not so much as pretend to a speculative certainty: And nothing less than that can ever be allow'd to take place of a certain practical direction.
The whole truth of the business is this. Our speculative thoughts are proud and impertinent. They would fain usurp the whole conduct of our life & actions: and This is what they were never made for. They are like a factious House of Commons, who are always quarrelling with the King's Prerogatives, under the odious name of Arbitrary Power: and if care be not taken to keep them within their due limits, they'l soon subvert the Government: they'l convene without [Page 152]being call'd, and continue sitting even when they are prorogued. From whence it plainly follows, that our Practical Reason is never more Prudent, and more like it self, in the lawfull exercise of its Soveraign Power, than when it silences and dismisses these pragmatical Scruples & rebellious Speculations, which cannot endure to have Authority reign over them. Then it is that our Practical Reason is like an Absolute Monarch, who governs as he pleases, without consulting his Parliament. And here, I hope you will not say, that Reason is Tyrannical, unless you have a mind to have it said, that Tyranny is reasonable.
CHAP. XI. The Security of Blind Obedience proved by Scripture.
A Pretended Conscience which claims a liberty of thinking what it pleases, & pleads a necessity of doing what it thinks, is as mischievous a Tool as the Devil himself would wish to go to work with. All the Laws of God & his Church would signifie just nothing, if every body might pretend to say, My Conscience tells me another thing, and Who shall controll or judge my Conscience? Tis evident that whensoever the Law says one thing, & our pretended Conscience takes upon it to say another, or whensoever there arises any [Page 154]dispute, which of the two is in the right, We do not live in conformity to the Law, if we despise such Judges of the Law, as the Law it self has appointed.
My business therefore at present is to prove by Scripture, that our Confessors are appointed by God, to be the Judges of the Law. From whence 'twill clearly follow, that in all doubtfull cases we may securely relie upon our Confessors Authority, without examining their reasons. For surely nothing can be more self-evident than this, that the Law of God can never punish us, for submitting humbly & sincerely to those Judges, which God himself has appointed.
There are several Texts of Scripture which plainly represent unto us, how unfitting & [Page 155]how unsafe a thing it is, to take upon us to be our own judges in all things. (n) Rely not upon your own Understanding: Be not wise in your own eyes. And again (o). There is more hope of a fool, than of one that is wise in his own conceit. Such expressions as these are very proper to awaken some people, who are so strangely fond of their own fancies, that they cannot endure to submit them to any Confessor whatsoever. They love dearly to rely upon their own understanding in every thing, although the Word of God expressely advises the contrary. They are so Wise in their own eyes, that they never think their Confessor wise enough to direct them. And, let them say what [Page 156]they will, 'tis manifest they are not guilty of too much Humility. For, if they thought their conceits were silly, they would easily submit. But the true reason why they are so stiff in their opinions, is because they always are inclined to believe that their conceits are wise ones. And how does this agree with the Word of God, which in (p) both Testaments admonishes them not to be wise in their own conceits? But a word is enough to the wise; and therefore I shall say no more upon this subject, but shall chieflly insist upon those Texts, which tell us plainly who they are, whom God has appointed to be our Guides & Judges: our Guides, to chuse our way, & our Judges to determine all our doubts concerning it.
I. The (q) lips of the Priest shall keep Knowledge, and they shall seek the Law at his mouth: for he is the Angel of the Lord of Hosts. And the reason holds good, although his wickedness (which God forbid) should (r) make him contemptible before the people. His personal failings do not lessen the Authority of his Character. He may know the Law as well as those who observe it. And although his actions discover the corruption of his Heart which contradicts his Judgment, yet perhaps he may not labour under any temptation of belying the Law with his lips, or contradicting it with his mouth. In the old Testament we read that (s) when Samuel was old [Page 158]& made his Sons Judges over Israel, they walk'd not in his ways; for which reason the Elders of Israel, being offended at the wickedness of his Sons, gather'd themselves together, and came to Samuel, & said, Now make us a King to judge us, like all the Nations. Whereupon Samuel, being displeased with their petition, prayd to God to direct him, & God himself express'd his displeasure in these terms, They have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me, that I should not reign over them. And in the New Testament we read, that Jesus said to the multitude (t) The Scribes & Pharisees have sitten in Moses seat; All therefore whatsoever they say to ye, that observe ye, & do ye; but do [Page 159]not square your actions according to their works; for they say, & do not. And indeed our Natural Reason is enough to teach us the Equity of this Truth. For, when once a Judge is appointed by the Law, although a private person at the Bar may justly hope himself to the better man of the two; yet, if he should therefore offer to justle him off the Bench, & disown the Authority of his Comission, such an insolence would never be endur'd in any Form of Government.
II. He (u) that hears you, says Christ to his Disciples, hears me: and he that despises you, despises me. This Text shews plainly that (w) God who spoke, in time past, to the [Page 160]Fathers by the Prophets, and in these last days spoke unto us by his Son, now still continues speaking to us by our Confessors, who though they (x) are not sufficient of themselves, yet God has made them able Ministers of the New Testament; (y) and has committed to them the word of Reconciliation, So that we ought to look upon them as Ambassadors for Christ, as if God himself did exhort us by them. If we had been present at the Transfiguration of our Saviour, & had heard that (z) voice which came out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son, Hear him: What a mighty influence would it have had upon our Minds & Hearts? And ought not we as much to reverence [Page 161]the voice of Christ, as if we heard a voice from Heaven? When our Saviour tells us, He that hears my Ministers, hears me; although our fears may raise a mist, & quite surround us with a cloud, yet still these words of his are like a Voice out of the cloud, and a Voice as easy to be understood, as if he had said, Those are my beloved Ministers, Hear them.
I shall onely take notice of one particular circumstance, which I hope will help to make some people sensible of the importance of this Text. I mean those who are so strangely terrified with thinking, that their Confessions never are exact, that they never love God above all things, that they never do sufficient pennance for [Page 162]their Sins, that they are not in the State of Grace, and that they are not in the number of God's Elect. If they are so terribly afraid of being (a) like Sheep which are going astray; if they are sincerely desirous to return unto the Shepherd of their Souls; Let them harken seriously to the voice of (b) that great Shepherd of the Sheep who says, (c) I am the good Pastor. (d) My Sheep, says he, hear my voice, and they follow me. We cannot follow Christ unless we hear his voice: But, if we hear his voice, & follow it, This is the certain mark, that we are in the number of his Sheep. My Sheep hear my voice, & they follow me; (e) and [Page 163]I give unto them Eternal Life; & they shall not perish for ever; neither shall any one pull them out of my Father's hand. My Father, that which he hath given me, is greater than all: and no one is able to pull them out of my Father's hand. What a comfort is it, to be thus assured, that if we hear his voice, and follow it, he will not fail to give us Eternal Life! What a joy, to think that we shall never perish! And how does it transport & ravish us, when we consider that although the World, the Flesh, & all the Devils in Hell conspire against us, yet our Father in Heaven is greater than all; &, if we hear the voice of his Son, No one will ever be able to pull us out of our Father's hand? What would we give, what would [Page 164]we do, what would we suffer, to be sure that we are in the happy number of those who hear the voice of Christ! Remember therefore, and consider what he says; If you hear his Ministers, you hear him; and if you despise them, you despise him.
III. When our Saviour ascended (f) he gave Pastors and Teachers, not onely for the work of the Ministry, and for the edifying the body Christ, but also that we henceforth be no more children, toss'd to & fro, & carried about with every wind of doctrine. And certainly, unless they were appointed by Christ to be our Guides & Judges, tis very hard to understand, how they should hinder us from being toss'd to & fro, [Page 165]& carried about with what wind of doctrine we please. But the thing which here is most remarkable, is this: Before he went (g) his way to him that sent him, He said, I tell you the truth, It is expedient for you that I go away. Which words being extended to the generality of the Faithfull, to whom the Comforter was sent as well as to the Disciples, 'tis hard to forbear the starting of a very material question: How? Is it expedient for us to exchange an infallible Guide, for a company of Confessors, who are every one of them fallible? Yes. It certainly is so. For, 1. Our Submission is equally secure, and that's as good: 2. Our Obedience is more humble, and that's a great deal better.
If you ask me, By what Authority we can be so secure under the direction of a fallible Guide? Pray, is not his Authority sufficient who will, one day, come to judge the quick & the dead? Can you imagine, he is so unjust, as to condemn us for submitting humbly & sincerely to his own Authority? And, if he cannot possibly condemn us for it, are we not secure? Tis he himself (who knows a great deal better than we do, how fallible they are) 'tis He, I say, who has appointed them to be our Judges; and therefore 'tis by his appointment, that in doubtfull matters we submit our judgment to them. Hear what he says himself: (h) As my Father hath sent me even so I send them. Whose soever [Page 167]they Sins they remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever sins they retain, they are retained.
I shall add no gloss to this Text. The Church of God is the best interpreter of his Word. She is (i) the pillar & the ground of Truth. If we believe our Creed; if we believe the Holy Catholick Church; If we believe the solemn declaration of a General Council approved & universally receiv'd, There is nothing more certain than that our Confessors are by Christ appointed Judges to discern & to determine all matters belonging to Confession. The words of the Council of Trent are these. (k) Our Lord JESUS [Page 168]CHRIST before he ascended from Earth to Heaven, left Priests his Vicegerents, as Presidents & Judges, to whom all mortall Sins are to be declared, that they may accordingly pronounce Sentence. So plain it is, that our Ghostly Fathers have their Commission from God, & Patent from his Church, to be our Judges in matters of Conscience; and consequently to pronounce a final Sentence upon all our doubtfull cases.
CHAP. XII. Maxims of S. Bernard, concerning Blind Obedience.
I Have now done with Scripture: and, to give an account of the Fathers, I have made choice of S. Bernard, whom I look upon as the last Father of the Church, & the best able to express the sentiments of all the rest who went before him. His eminent Learning & Vertue were the Oracle as well as Miracle of the twelfth Age. His Doctrine & Example were the greast Instruction & the Admiration of all: when in the darkness & the coldness of those times, which were the winter-season of Devotion, he unexpectedly appeard, like fire expressely [Page 170] sent from Heaven to enlighten & enflame the minds & hearts of ignorant & tepid Christians.
He has written a whole book particularly upon this subject: and, the whole care of his life being chiefly employ'd in cultivating & improving the Vertue of Blind Obedience, we may very well allow him to have rightly understood it. He discourses, for the most part, concerning the blind obedience which is due to a Prelate or Superior, addressing himself particularly to Religious persons, who by vow are bound to observe it. But nevertheless the Submission, which is due from all Penitents to their Confessors, is a Case exactly parallel to it, & is directly comprehended under the general notion [Page 171]of it. And besides, 'tis obvious to every body's common sense, that those practises which are universally reputed vertuous in a Cloister, can never be justly censur'd as unlawfull in the World: but whatsoever the Religious must do, the Seculars may lawfully do it, if they please.
MAX. I. We ought to look upon our Confessor as a Vicegerent of God, without considering his faults.
WHether (l) it be God, or Man his Vicegerent, who imposes an obligation upon [Page 172]us, we are to obey with the same care, and submit with the same respect. (m) What matter is it, whether God impart his will & pleasure to us, by himself, or by the Ministry of Men, or Angels? Whatsoever it is that Man prescribes, as Vicegerent of God, unless [Page 173]it be CERTAINLY displeasing to him, we ought to accept it in the same manner, as if God himself had ordain'd it. Especially since we read in Scripture, that the lips of the Priest keep knowledge, & they require the Law at his mouth, because he is the Angel of the Lord of Hosts. They seek the Law, says he, not in things which our Reason proves MANIFESTLY to us, but in matters which are so hidden & obscure, that we might possibly DOUBT, whether God would have it so, or not; unless it were MADE CERTAIN, by those lips which are the Keepers of Knowledge, & by the mouth of the Angel of the Lord of Hosts.
Can any man speak more plainly than S. Bernard does, upon this occasion?
And now, perhaps, some body may be apt to say; If I had but such a man as S. Bernard, for my Confessor, I could rely upon his word as confidently as if God himself had said it: but when I consider the weakness & the indiscretion of my Ghostly Father, I dare not venture to trust him.
To this Objection a learned Divine returns this Answer, that Penitents do not rely upon their Confessor (n) because he is [Page 175]LEARNED, PRUDENT, or VERTUOUS, but barely because he supplies the place of God, who has appointed him to be their Judge in all doubtfull matters relating to Confession. But since you own so frankly, that if you had S. Bornard for your Confessor, you could easily rely upon him: Hear what S. Bernard says himself. (o) Be not afrighted at the unskillfullness of his Teashing, or the indiscretion of his Authority; but remember that there is no power but of God; and that they who resist Authority, resist the ordinance of God.
Tis true, This Maxim of [Page 176] S. Bernard allows of one exception from the general rule, which is, that when we are absolutely certain of our Confessor's being mistaken, we may lawfully refuse to submit to him. (p) In these things, says he, we neither expect any body's Teaching, nor mind any body's Forbidding. But here it is that all Timorous Consciences must have a great care, of not being mistaken themselves, when they think their Confessor is so. The Exception is very true, but they must be carefull not to destroy the Rule with it. They are apt to fear on the wrong side; and Fear is a strange Passion, which commonly misrepresents [Page 177]whatever comes in its way. They look at every thing with a pair of spectacles made of false glasses, the one magnifying the Sin, the other multiplying the circumstances, & both conspiring to deceive them. In this condition they consult their Confessor, and tell him a terrible Story, which, by their good will, they would never make an end of. Their Confessor, who is generally well acquainted with these humours, & soon sees what they would be at, begins to cut them short: And 'tis no wonder he does so, because he sees things plainly, with his own natural eyes, & will not be prevail'd upon to use their spectacles, because he knows what glass they are made of. Now, this offends them strangely; and [Page 178]without any more adoe, they think they have all the reason in the world to conclude. He's certainly mistaken. He allows them, may be, onely half a quarter to examine; and they are certain that three or four hours are too little, for the purpose. They are certain they ought to confess some things, which he forbids them to speak of. They are certain they are obliged in Conscience, to make a general Confession; although he tells them, they need it no more than they do the head-ake.
Poor Creatures! In these perplexities they mean very well; but they do very ill. For, even in things which seem evident to them, they ought to beware of being mistaken, & of making things matter of [Page 179]Conscience which are far from being so. They ought to beware the setting up of a false God to themselves, & sacrificing all the Duties of Obedience to an Idol of their own invention. Their pretended Conscience is neither better nor truer for the heat & zeal with which they maintain it. Even Heathens themselves are oftentimes more zealous than Christians: And (the Devil helping his servants) it is commonly observed, that men are fiercer in the wrong than in the right. Who would set up a fallible Guide against an infallible one? This Conscience of theirs is fallible, not onely in it self, but also to them, because when, by their fault, it is erroneous, is does not excuse them. But their Confessor [Page 180]is always infallible to them, although he never is so in himself; because it is infallibly true, that they are always excused, when in any doubt they humbly & sincerely follow his advice.
When nothing else will do, They chiefly insist upon this; that they are very certain their Confessor does not rightly understand them, because they are sure that, if he did, he would certainly be of their opinion. But surely such a pleasant argument as this, is little better than that of Poet Bayes. When I have a mind, says he, to know whether a man be a man of parts, or not; What do me I, but give him one of my Plays to read? He reads it. If he likes it; Well. If not; I know what to think of him. [Page 181]Much at this rate, these people go to their Confessor, with one of their huge & mighty Scruples. He hears it. If he approves their opinion; All's well. If not; They know for certain he must needs be grievoussly mistaken.
Tis very hard, you'l say, for people to think otherwise: Especially when they can almost swear, they are in the right.
The prouder they are, the harder it is: but if they were sufficiently humble, it would be a very easy matter. Especially, when they cannot quite swear. For if their heart goes pit a pat with fear of being perjur'd, when they think of laying hand upon the Book & making a solemn Oath; Then they may very well assure [Page 182]themselves, that there is still some little doubt lies lurking in their Minds, and that therefore they may boldly reckon it amongst the doubtfull cases, in which their Confessor has full Commission to direct them.
S. Teresa was certainly so fully perswaded of her Visions being true & real, that she could almost have sworn, they were so: And yet she would not therefore venture to disobey her Confessor. Hear how F. Crasset describes her behaviour in this case. (q) JESUS appear'd to S. Teresa two several ways; in his own person, & in the person of her Confessor. Jesus himself teaches her infallible truths: Her Confessor, who represents him, tells [Page 183]her, they are so many lies. What shall Teresa do? Whom shall she believe? She never deliberates upon the matter: She chuses rather to obey Jesus in the person of her Confessor, than in his own person. I may be mistaken, says she, in believing these Visions; but I shall never be mistaken in obeying my Directour. I am not absolutely certain that it is the Son of God who appears to me; but I am certain that it is he who speaks to me by my Superiours. If they tell me otherwise than he does, I'l believe them sooner than him, because he commands me so to do.
MAX. II. We ought to look upon him as our Judge, without examining his reasons.
These words of S. Bernard are too plain to need any Comment, and therefore I shall onely endeavour to shew the evils which infallibly attend those people, who will never submit to their Confessor in any [Page 186]particular difficulty, unless he first give a satisfactory reason for it, and convince them by meer dint of argument.
1. To avoid the fear of an imaginary Sin on the one side, they put themselves evidently into a real danger of Sinning on the other.
2. They affront Christ himself, by rebelling against his Government.
3. They willfully oppose the kind designs of God's great Mercy to them, in allowing them a Guide.
I. To avoid an imaginary Sin, they put themselves evidently in a real danger of Sinning. My Confessor, you'l say, is fallible: How dare I rely upon him? Pray, are not you fallible too? How dare you rely upon your self? If he mistake, [Page 187]'tis his fault: but if you mistake, 'tis yours. If you depend upon him without examining his reasons, the danger is onely his; But if you are inquisitive & will depend upon your self, you bring the danger to your own door; and, if there be any mistake, you are justly accountable for it. You may e'en thank your self; You sought for danger, & you found it; You loved it, & who can help your perishing in it?
But am not I to take care, that my Confessor be not mistaken?
Are not you ashamed to ask such a question? God and his Church have both appointed him to be your Guide: And must you therefore take upon you to be his?
But whilst my Confessor directs [Page 188]me, it were to be wisht that some body would direct him.
That's God's care. He himself takes that upon him, & excuses you from troubling your head about it. If you cannot help suspecting that your Confessor is a bad man, and that therefore God will not direct him: You may make amends for it, by taking what care you can, to be as good, as you should be, your self: And then (if you humbly desire it, & heartily pray for it) God will be sure to direct him for your sake, although he would not do so much for his. B. Sales advises you (t) to pray to God with very great instance, and afterwards (u) not to regard him simply as a man, nor to trust in him, nor in his human prudence, but in the Providence [Page 189]of Almighty God, who will undoubtedly favour your endeavours, and speak to you by the interposition of this man; putting into his mind, & into his mouth, those things which shall be most expedient for your spiritual advancement. In short, there is nothing more certain, than that God will either direct him or excuse you. Be it which way it will, your Soul can never be in danger, upon this account. For, as long as you cannot swear, your Confessor is mistaken; so long you may lawfully swear, you are Secure. S. Bernard proposes the same Objection: (w) When matters [Page 190]are doubtfull, Men may easily deceive themselves in discerning the will of God, & deceive others in prescribing it. To which he roundly answers, What's that to you, as long as you are not certain of it?
II. They affront Christ himself, by rebelling against his Government. He gives their Confessor a full Commission, to be their Judge in all doubtfull cases. They will not acknowledge him, under that character. They'l hearken to him, as to a Lawyer at the Bar, if he pleases: But, as for the Bench, they question very much whether he be either good enough, or wise enough, to deserve that place, so well as they do. They'l hear his reasons, & consider them: but, when all is done, they are free-born Subjects of [Page 191]the Almighty, and are always resolv'd to judge for themselves. S. Bernard speaking of this (x) proud Contempt, & Obstinate continuance in it, says that even in little precepts it amounts to more than a little fault, and changes a small transgression into a grievous Crime of Rebellion.
III. They willfully oppose the kind designs of God's great Mercy to them, in allowing them a Guide. By giving us a Guide, he puts into our hands the best means of saving our Souls; he supplies us with perpetual opportunities of practising the best of moral vertues, Humility [Page 192]& Obedience; he leads us into the best & readiest way of following Jesus Christ the Captain of our Salvation, who humbled himself & became obedient; for which reason God exalted him, & will exalt us too, provided we follow his example.
These were the vertues He required from our first Parents: and to make the practise more easy, He was pleased to be their Guide himself. He was every way Infallible: his infinite Wisdom on the one side, & his no less infinite Goodness on the other, were Vouchers for his Infallibility: And yet their Pride and Disobedience found a way to rob them of their Innocence.
To repair this fault of theirs the Eternal Truth becomes Incarnate, [Page 193]the Word is made Flesh, and dwells amongst us: He comes to enlighten all the World, and to take care that those, who follow him, may never walk in darkness. And here indeed the terms of our Obedience and Humility seem something harder than before; because we cannot now be saved, without submission of our Understanding & our Will to Man as well as God. Tis true; This Man is God, He is infinitely Wise & Good, He is therefore every way Infallible. But all these great & glorious advantages are Objects far too bright for our weak eyes, we cannot see these dazling & amazing truths, but are forced to believe without seeing. Here it is, we humble our proud thoughts, & captivate them to [Page 194]the obedience of Christ: And 'tis the first Cross we take up, when we begin to follow him.
But yet this is not all: Neither is it just that this should be enough. If we intend to be exalted, we must humble our selves, & be obedient one step further. Our Parents would not submit to God himself; and we, who have the same blood in our veins, must now submit not onely to Man who is God, but to Men who are no more Gods than we are; to Men who are as fallible as our selves. This is the Cross which we must of necessity take up, if we intend to follow him. We must be thus far humble & obedient, if we design to be exalted with him. To follow him, we must (y) [Page 195] hear his voice: And, being gone himself so far before us, What could he contrive better for us, than to leave his Ministers behind him, and to give us all the encouragement that can be, to rely upon their word; by assuring us, that if we hear them, we hear him? Tis evidently just that this same proud & stubborn Nature of ours, which once aspired so high as to defy the Highest, should now bow down its head, not onely lower than its Maker, but even lower than the dust of which he made it. Tis just, I say, in things indifferent, to resign our Wills, and in doubtfull matters, to submit our Understandings, even to our fallible fellow-creatures who are made of the same dust with us.
Tis hard indeed, at first, for so much Pride and Stubbornness to yield without some little resistance. But however, we are in the hands of a God & a Judge from whom we cannot make our escape, and therefore we have reason to be glad to kiss the Rod, although we are not fond of it. Nay, we have reason to be fond of it, if we rightly consider our interest. Our Saviour himself was pleased to tell us, before he went, it was expedient for us he should go away. For although there may be more Difficulty in submitting to his Ministers, yet the Benefit of it is incomparably greater. The self-denyals of our Understanding & our Will are more acceptable to God, when they are offer'd to him in the person of a Minister [Page 197]who represents him. They are more humble, & therefore more acceptable. And here I know not which to admire most; the Equity of his Justice, in making this the punishment of our Sin; or the Kindness of his Mercy, in making it the best, the easiest, & the most effectual means of purchasing our Everlasting Happiness: Our Cross indeed, is heavier; but the Reward is greater. The occasions of taking it up, are more frequent; but they onely serve to multiply the glories of our Crown, when we shall, one day, be exalted for it.
This is One kind design, which God has laid in order to our future Happiness: And this we willfully oppose as often as we refuse to submit, without a particular & a convincing [Page 198]reason for it. There is certainly no Humility in never submitting, but when our natural Reason is convinc'd; nor is there any Obedience in never complying, but when we naturally have a mind to it. The very worst of Atheists & Libertins are every jot as humble and obedient as this: They never make any difficulty, of Believing what they see, or Doing what they please.
A Second design of the Divine Providence in allowing us a Guide, is to make us truly Happy, not onely hereafter, but even here. Now this is a double Kindness, & the greatest that can be imagin'd; that God is not contented to crown our Happiness at our journey's end, but desires to give us a tast of it before hand, and offers [Page 199]us as much of it as we are able to carry with us thither. By leading us into the way of Blind Obedience, He removes the causes of our inward trouble and disquiet, & lays a sure foundation of interiour comfort & tranquillity of mind. And this I shall endeavour to give a particular account of, out of pity & compassion to those Timorous Consciences, who make it their great design to please themselves, but know not how to go about it.
One would admire to see the strange perverseness and frowardness of people, when they are possess'd with panick fear. Every thing lies cross in their way. The very shadow of an obligation is enough to put them in a fright▪ What ever it is, they think it morally impossible to [Page 200]be comply'd with; and therefore hate the very thought of it. God gives them a Guide: and because this looks as if they were obliged in Conscience to follow his direction, therefore they start back, & cry, What is our Reason good for, if in doubts we must submit it to our Guide? And yet, if God had bid them rely entirely upon their Reason, they would perhaps have thought it the harder measure of the two, and would have argued the contrary way, What is our Guide good for, if we may not safely relie upon him? They would fain be doing their duty; and for fear of doing it the wrong way, they never do it right. They are too wise to trust their Confessor; and yet they are not wise enough to trust themselves. They are desperately [Page 201]fond of speculative certainty: but the mischief is, it is not to be found. Probability sometimes flatters them with hopes of absolute certainty; but always deceives them, & puts them off with doubtfull if's & and's, which are never able to give them any satisfaction. This is the reason why they are always fearfull, & always inquisitive to find out reasons to appease their fears. But after all their vain endeavours to confirm & settle their opinion, they can never attain to a steddy & unshaken perswasion of it. Their Conscience ever & anon recoyls upon them; and all their plausible reasoning is still born down & confuted by a strong suspicion which they can never get out of their minds, that perhaps they are still mistaken.
But that which I most admire, is the strange obstinacy of their humour, who after long experience having felt the smart of their miserable condition, are still resolved to continue in it. They dayly find themselves at a loss: They have all the reason in the world to conclude they are in the wrong way: And yet they still go on. A Traveller is wiser than so. As soon as he finds himself out of the way, he presently stops his course, he turns towards the right way with all the speed he can, and has not the least inclination to go wrong any further. But the minds of these people are so hurried away, by their unreasonable prejudices, that though they find themselves in the wrong, they cannot endure to [Page 203]return to the right. They expect to see an end of all their fears, & then they intend to be as obedient as you please. Mean time, they beg pardon, if they defer their Obedience till the practise of it be a little more easy to them. Now this is a fancy which is every jot as extravagant as that of the Ideot, who being come to the river side, & being obliged to pass over, durst not venture in a boat, but resolv'd to expect till the water was all gone, & left the channel dry. He observ'd the swiftness of the stream, and fancied it would soon run quite away, & leave him a free & easie passage. But the river runs, & still runs on, and though he should expect a thousand years, 'twould never leave off running. And [Page 204]so 'tis in our present case. Their doubts & jealousies, their reasonings & disputings, will still run on, & never have an end. Tis impossible they should ever have any tolerable enjoyment of themselves, or ever be able to shake off these tormenting fears, but by submitting to the easy yoke of Jesus Christ, & by securing themselves under his protection, whom hitherto they have affronted, by despising of his Ministers. Nothing but Blind Obedience can free them from all this misery, by removing the causes of their inward trouble & disquiet, & by laying a sure foundation of interiour comfort & tranquillity of mind.
The principal cause of their inward trouble, is this. They rely entirely upon their own [Page 205]judgment: and therefore have just reason to conclude, that they are unavoidably accountable for every mistake they commit. And this is abundantly enough to make them always jealous, that, for ought they know, God's Justice may be making towards them, and his Anger levell'd against them. But this cause ceases immediately, as soon as they entertain the principles of Blind Obedience: Because 'tis evident, when God has given them a Confessor to direct them, it cannot be his will & pleasure that this Guide should be directed & guided by them. Tis true; He may be mistaken: But let him look to that. Tis none of their business to examine him: On the contrary 'tis commendable in them to [Page 206]submit (z) without asking any question for Conscience sake. And therefore, although his mistakes may perhaps be fatal to himself, tis as clear as the Meridian Sun, that they can never be fatal to them, nor can they ever be accountable for any thing which he advises.
Another more secret cause of their inward disquiet, is well express'd by S. Austin, who says, Thou hast made us, O Lord, for thy self; & our hearts are always restless, till we rest in Thee. All creatures are uneasy when they are out of their natural Element. Nothing is at rest, but whilst it is in that state which Nature intended for it. Obedience is the natural state of the Soul: it was made to obey its Maker: [Page 207]and the constant practice of this Vertue, is the condition to which God design'd it. He gave us our Reason; not to make us Rebels, but to make us reasonable Subjects: and therefore all our acts of Submission to the Authority of his Government, are rational & suitable to the first institution of our Nature. Our Reason is a Ray of the Divivinity; it imprints the image of our Maker on our Souls; and writes the fundamental laws of our Submission, in so plain a character, that though our Passions now and then obscure it, yet they never can efface it. As long as (a) our Souls are subject to the higher powers ordain'd by God; (b) [Page 208]obeying them that rule over us, & submitting our selves to those who watch for our Souls; so long our Souls are in their natural temper, and are in very good health, because they are in that State in which they ought to be, according to the primitive intention of their Being. But when we resist the power of Authority; when we (c) resist the ordinance of God; when we revolt against the Government of Jesus-Christ, by despising the Commission he has given to our Confessor, and by refusing in doubtfull cases to acknowledge the sufficiency and safety of his Direction; then it is that we act contrary to the inward light of our minds, our Conscience checks us, and makes us uneasy. [Page 209]And how can we hope to be at ease, as long as we have poyson within us, which puts us in a sickly & diseased condition? Our Pride and Willfullness put all our spirits in a continual fermentation. Our minds can never be serene, as long as they are clouded with the fumes of our distemper. All the common arts of diversion will never avail us: we may change our place, our posture, our physick, & our Physician too; but we shall still be restless, till the cause be removed, which creates our disturbance. (d) There is no peace, says my God, to the wicked. But, as in our body we find an unexpressible ease & pleasure, when it is in perfect state of health; So when Obedience [Page 210]corrects the proud and willfull humours of our Soul, restores the even temper of our Mind, & smooths the way before us; Then it is that All is easy to us. We easily know what we are bid to do: And, being humble, we as easily do it.
The Obedience, which I speak of, not onely removes the causes of our inward trouble & disquiet; but lays a sure foundation of interiour comfort & tranquillity of mind, by affording us the best Security, that we can wish for, during Life; and the greatest Joy, that we can think of, at the hour of Death. What greater Security can our hearts desire, than to be under the protection of God himself, the Shepherd of our Souls, who knows a great deal better, [Page 211]than we do, what is good for us, and will not suffer us to go astray, because he loves us better than we love our selves? He was our Enemy before; whilst we rebell'd against his Government: But, by detesting our past pride & folly, & submitting to his Ministers, he now becomes our Friend. All Friendship is comfortable: but this is the best of Friendships, and therefore is the greatest & divinest comfort. Tis a great satisfaction, to feel that we our selves love God: and a double satisfaction, to hope that He himself loves us. Then it is, that we may say to our Soul, as David did, (e) Return unto thy rest, O my Soul; (f) My God is my Light, & my Salvation; Whom shall I fear? My [Page 210] [...] [Page 211] [...] [Page 212]God is the Protector of my Life; of whom shall I be afraid?
As 'tis our best Security; during life; so 'tis our greatest Joy at the approach of Death, and yields most comfort then when we stand most in need of it. Tis a terrible thing to a departing Soul, when it looks back upon a proud & willfull course of life, which instead of being spent in the service of God, has been perpetually employ'd in idle reasoning & disputing, how to serve him, when to serve him, & whether to serve him or no. What can such people plead in their behalf? Tis certainly no good excuse, to say, Lord, we have always been rebellious against thy Government; but the reason was, because we were afraid to rely upon it; and indeed, we durst [Page 213]not take thy word for it, because we thought it fitter for us, in all our doubts, to govern our selves according to our own fancy. Tis true, we have seldome, or never, done our Duty; but we hope thou wilt please to pardon our willfull omissions of it, because we were always so mighty busy in thinking & considering of it, that we could never find time to do it. Here it is, their guilty Conscience lies in wait to accuse them, & never is more fierce than in the day of adversity. When Eternity, that terrifying object, at the hour of death, presents it self before their thoughts; when they feel themselves beginning to sink into the regions of darkness; when they are ready to die at the amazing apprehension of their final Sentence; [Page 214]How will the Guilt of all their Disobedience then stare them in the face! With what regret & terrour will they then behold it, in its own true shape! What tumults and convulsions will it raise within their breasts, when they observe a long black train of proud & willfull practices, which very well deserve to be attended with a longer & a blacker train of everlasting miseries!
But it is not so with those who have in time repented of of their folly, and have proved sincerely humble & obedient. In their greatest temptations, all is calm & serene within, when there is nothing but darkness & clouds about them. All their their acts of Submission are so many seeds of peace & comfort sown in their Consciences▪ [Page 215]which never fail to spring up, & flourish most, when the day of distress approaches. When the pangs of Death are ready to lay hold of them, and they are just going to step into the other world, What a seasonable refreshment is it to their thoughts, too look back upon an humble & obedient course of life? Then it is that the pleasure of it over-flows their minds, the joys of Heaven begin to spring up in their hearts, & are a true & solid comfort which will stick close to them & stand faithfully by them in the day of Trial, when they have most need of it. O what a Joy it is, to consider that their greatest Friend, who has been heretofore the Shepherd of their Souls, is now the Judge of their Actions! to reflect that their Humility [Page 216]in hearing his Voice, & their Obedience in following it, are the certain marks by which he knows the happy number of his Sheep! and to remember that he will not fail to set them on his right hand, when He comes in glory to pronounce the Sentence of their Everlasting Happiness! To hear his Voice was once the Security of their life: And to hear the same, is now the Joy of their death. My Sheep, says he, hear my Voice, & they follow me: and I give unto them Eternal Life: and they shall not perish for ever. Come ye Blessed of my Father; Come & inherit the Kingdom, which was prepared for you, from the foundation of the World. Amen.