me. For he would not have this inward disengagement from
worldly things in the least diminish the vigilance necessary to pre-
serve your fortune, and support your family. Now, to join toge-
ther both the one and the other, is what I denominate the heroical
virtue of your state. And how, you will say, is it possible to ar-
rive at that pitch of evangelical poverty ? To this, I answer, as
our Saviour himself answered on a subject nearly parallel: It is
impossible for men, but not for God. It is impossible for those
who intrude themselves unadvisedly, and without the grace of
God's call, into the matrimonial state ; or who having this grace,
use it not in the manner they ought to do. But for those who are
faithful to it, everything is possible. Abraham lived in the same
state that you do, had a family to mind and maintain as you have,
and enjoyed a larger property than you do ; and yet these perish-
able possessions never excited the least desire or covetousness in
his heart.
Be that as it may, beloved hearers, you know the obligations
attending wedlock ; you know its difficulties, neither are you igno-
rant of its dangers : and, by consequence, you see how much it
imports you to be instructed, conducted, and assisted in it by God :
that is, how much it imports you not to engage in it, but with the
approbation of God, and to draw down upon you in it the grace of
God. But if it was not by the divine appointment that you have
entered into the marriage state, is there no remedy, or what are
you to do ? You must do what the penitent sinner doth. He
repairs, by the grace of penitence, what he lost by losing the grace
of innocence. In like manner, you will repair, after the marriage
contract, the evil you committed by cantracting marriage, not hav-
ing the first graces of this state ; by recurring to God you must
obtain the second. For, God hath secondary graces to supply the
deficiency of the first ; and in these it is you must place your con-
fidence. However, as they are not so frequent and abundant, when
they have not been preceded by the others, what remains for you
ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 2(35
to do is, to watch over yourself with more attention; to apply with
more zeal to all the duties of a state in which it is now God's will
that you persevere ; to conceive a more lively and bitter repent-
ance of the misdemeanor into which you have fallen through your
own fault ; to redouble your prayers, upon that account, and to cry
out the more vehemently to the Lord. Ah ! my God, (must you
say with fervour, as the brother of Jacob said to Isaac, after having
lost his right of primogeniture,) " Have you but one benediction,
father ?" Gen. xxvii. True it is, my Lord, I have deviated from
the right path which you pointed out to me. But have you there-
fore rejected me ? And doth your good Providence want means
to repair the loss I have suffered ? Cast, O my God, once more
a favourable eye upon me. Do not abandon me to myself, for that
I am determined henceforward to leave myself to be wholly
governed by your divine will : " Give me, likewise, I beseech thee,
thy benediction." Gen. xxvii. He will hearken to your vows,
beloved hearer ; and by a fresh exertion of his divine mercy, he will
assume other views of predestination in your regard, and will direct
you into the harbour of everlasting bliss.
SERMON XIII.
ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.
For the Third Sunday after Easter.
" Verily, verily, I say unto you, that ye shall iceep and lament,
but the world will rejoice." John xvi.
It is Jesus Christ that speaks, beloved Christians ; and that in a
few words pronounces, in the gospel, two judgments directly con-
trary to each other : one, in favour of his chosen servants, repre-
sented in the apostles ; the other, against sinners, who compose
this world, a world which he hath so loudly reprobated, and against
which he hath so often thundered out his curses. Ye shall weep
and lament in sufferings and heart-corroding anxieties, is the por-
tion of the predestinate ; but to rejoice, and enjoy all the pleasures
of life, is the portion of sinners* What a portion, after all, beloved
s
%66 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.
Christians ! Could you ever have thought the case to be such ?
Are these the means by which the Son of God threatens to chas-
tise the enemies of his gospel ? Are these the rewards he promises
those who shall faithfully and constantly tread in his footsteps ?
And according to our notions, ought he not, it should seem, to in-
vert the proposition, and say to the righteous, "ye shall rejoice;"
and to the wicked, " ye shall sink under a heavy load of vexations,
and pass your days overwhelmed with sorrow ?" This, beloved
Christians, he should have done, according to the notions of man-
kind ; that is, according to the weak and limited notions of carnal
prudence. But the divine Wisdom hath views infinitely superior
to those of men ; and in order to fulfil the designs of men to the
advantage of the elect, it was necessary they should give up the
diversions of the world ; because how good and pleasing soever an
appearance they may wear, they end unhappily, and lead to perdi-
tion. Wherefore, observe, what our Saviour adds for the comfort
of his disciples : " After having passed (says he) your days in tears,
your grief shall be converted into joy," a solid, lasting, eternal joy ;
giving them, by an opposite rule, to understand, that the deceitful
joys of the world would end in the utmost wretchedness. A great
and terrible truth, which I mean this day to develope, and the im-
portance of which will appear in the sequel of tliis discourse.
I mean not to exaggerate, beloved Christians ; neither is it my
design to condemn all diversions, without exception. I am aware
of the decree which our blessed Saviour hath passed against those
who enjoy the good things of this world, when he says : " Wo to
you that laugh, to you who seek the pleasures of this life ; wo to
you, because ye have your consolation." Luke vi. You, who enjoy
felicity, and make that felicity consist in the vain enjoyments of
the earth. But without wresting the words of Jesus Christ to an
unnatural sense, or giving them an interpretation in any w T ise too
favourable, it is a justice I owe to truth, to acknowledge, that there
are recreations innocent and becoming, and consequently permitted
according to the rules prescribed by the gospel. It is not, there-
fore, my intention to assert, that all the diversions of the w r orld are
criminal, and reprobated by Almighty God. But yet I declare
with St. Gregory, pope, who said it before me, that those diver-
sions which in the world are permitted and innocent, are very rare ;
that those diversions which in the world are becoming and decent,
are few in number ; in a word, that the greatest part of those diver-
ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 2G7
sions which have obtained in the world, are higlily deserving of
condemnation. This I ground upon three principles, in which is
comprised the whole of my subject, and which is well worthy of
your serious attention. These diversions of the world I shall con-
sider in their nature, in their extent, and in their effects. Now I
hold, as you shall see, that they are almost all of them —
Either impure and forbidden in their nature ; and this is the
first part :
Or excessive in their extent ; and this is the second part :
Or, in fine, scandalous in their effects ; and this is the third and
last part*
Be attentive, I beseech you, to these three reflections, which
require a more than common elucidation, and on which I shall
endeavour to throw what light is needful.
Part I. Tertullian hath a very opposite observation in the trea-
tise he composed of " Public Exhibitions." He says, that the
ignorance of the mind of man is never more presumptuous, nor ever
pretends to philosophize and reason with more precision, than when
he is forbidden the use of some diversion or pleasure, of which he
is in possession, and of which he thinks the possession lawful. For
then he puts himself upon the defensive, becomes subtile and inge-
nious, strikes out by thinking a thousand pretexts to maintain his
right ; and, in the apprehension of being deprived of that which
pleases, he at last persuades himself that what he desires is becom-
ing and innocent, though at bottom criminal, and directly contrary
to the law r of God. And, indeed, it is to this is owing the daily
and melancholy decay of morals among Christians. A thing is
agreeable, or seems to be so ; and because it is agreeable, we in-
dulge a love of it ; and because we love it, we imagine it good ;
and by dint of imagining, we work ourselves into a kind of con-
viction, in virtue of which we proceed to action, to the prejudice
of conscience, and in opposition to the most pure lights of grace.
Now, let us apply this general maxim to particular points, and to
that especially which is the subject of this discussion.
I hold that there are diversions in the world, which pass for
lawful, and which people of the world authorise as it were by com-
mon agreement, but which the Christian law condemns, and which
are incompatible with integrity of life and purity of manners. Let
us descend to particulars ; for otherwise, Christians, you might be
at a loss to see the force of my propositions, and perhaps, in prac-
s2
268 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS,
tice, whatever I should say would produce no fruit. Wherefore,
let us reason upon topics the most ordinary, and the best known ;
topics nearly the same as those which Tertullian hath handled with
his usual energy. Hearken to this :
1st. I ask, for instance, whether or not those profane exhibitions,
those spectacles, to which your idle and voluptuous worldlings re-
sort ; public meetings of mere pleasure, where all are admitted who
come desirous to see and be seen ; in a word, to preclude all ambi-
guity, whether or not plays and balls be forbidden diversions ?
Some, enlightened w T ith the true light, the light of the gospel, dis-
allow them : others, deceived by false lights, the lights ol carnal
prudence, vindicate them, or at least strain every nerve to vindi-
cate them. Every one follows his own notions, and decides accord-
ingly. For my own part, Christians, though such amusements
were not forbidden me by my profession, and 1 had it in my option
to do as I pleased, I verily think there would need no more, to
make me renounce them, than this diversity and clashing of senti-
ments. For why (would I say) should I run the risk of wounding
my conscience for so small a matter, the loss of which is attended
with little or no inconvenience ? On one hand, 1 am assured, that
diversions of this kind are criminal ; and on the other it is affirmed,
that they are no way sinful. The result of which can be no other,
than that the case is doubtful ; and as they who maintain that inno-
cence is lost by such diversions, are, without comparison, the most
regular in their conduct, the most attached to their duty, the most
knowing in the ways of God and godliness, is it not more secure,
and more agreeable to the rules of prudence, to be guided by them,
than so very lightly to put my eternal doom in jeopardy ? Thus,
I should conclude ; and the conclusion, no doubt, would coincide
with reason and good sense.
But I would not stop there ; more weighty considerations should
fix my resolution. What then would I do ? Following the inspi-
ration of the divine Spirit, I would considt those whom God in his
wisdom hath given me for masters, the fathers of the church !
" Ask thy father, and he w T ill declare it to thee ; thy forefathers,
and they will tell it thee ;" (Deut. xxxii ;) and having taken their
opinion, it were hard to conceive, that any nicety of conscience
should hinder me from being absolutely convinced upon tins head.
For they would teach me truths capable not only to determine my
judgment, but to inspire me with a horror of these diversions â–º
ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. *2t>9
They would tell me that the pagans themselves proscribed them,
as prejudicial and contagious. We need only peruse what St. Au-
gustin hath remarked in his excellent work, " The City of God,"
and the admirable edicts he mentions to the shame of those who
would patronise, among Christians, that which paganism had
rejected. They would tell me, that in the primitive ages of the
church, to abandon plays and balls was an undeniable mark of reli-
gion ; and, in particular, that they censured the theatre, not only
because in those times it helped to promote idolatry and supersti-
tion, but because it was a school of debauchery and lewdness. Now
I leave you to judge, whether it be not the same thing at this day,
and whether the fatal contagion of impurity be not the more to be
dreaded and shunned, as it is the more disguised and refined. True
it is, that the language of the stage is now more chaste, more stu-
died and correct ; but experience hath taught you, that this lan-
guage neither tarnishes the mind, nor corrupts the heart the less
for that ; and that in all probability it were better hear the adul-
teries of Jupiter and other heathen gods, the stories of which,
expressed openly and without reserve, would offend the ear, and
not make so deep an impression on the soul. They would tell me,
than in the general opinion of the faithful, no one could keep the
oath and promise he made in baptism, so long as his heart remained
attached to these frivolous pastimes. For, it is mocking God him-
self, my brother, (says St. Cyprian,) to have renounced the devil,
by receiving, as you did, in the sacred laver of regeneration, the
grace of Jesus Christ, and now to go in quest of the false joys
which the same infernal spirit affords you at balls and plays. They
would tell me, that the church, in this respect, had exerted her
discipline with extreme rigour, and that this rigour was sometimes
carried to such a pitch, that it proved sometimes an obstacle to the
conversion of infidels. Insomuch, (says Tertullian,) that well nigh
as many were found to keep back from our holy faith, for fear of
being debarred from these divertisements, which it condemned, as
for fear of undergoing death and martyrdom, with which they were
threatened by bloody tyrants.
This, I say, is what these holy doctors would tell me, and what
they tell you. This is their tradition, these their reflections, this
their doctrine. Take notice : I do not say that this was the doc-
trine of one of these great men, but of them all ; so that all of them,
with one unanimous consent, were agreed in this point, had all but
270 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.
one voice, and not unfrequently the same expressions. I do not
say that this was their doctrine at one time, which changed at ano-
ther : from age to age they succeeded one another, and in every
age they renewed the same prohibitory rules, taught the same
maxims, made the same declarations. I do not say that this was
the doctrine of weak and unintelligent men, narrow in their views,
and timid or precipitate in their decisions. Setting aside their
sanctity, which renders their memory venerable to us, we know
they were the prime geniuses of the world. Their writings are
come down to us, and in our hands ; and in them we discover the
sublimity of their wisdom, the penetration of their minds, and the
depth and extent of their erudition. I do not say that this was a
doctrine tending only to inculcate w T orks of perfection, and of mere
counsel ; we need but weigh their words, and take them in the
most natural and obvious sense. Upon what other subject have
they explained their sentiments with more rigour ? Of what have
they made us more to apprehend the dreadful consequences ? And
to what have they attributed more fatal effects ? I do not say that
this was a doctrine founded in particular reasons, and owing to the
particular circumstances of the times. They gave no other reasons
than we give ; they had no other to give. What they said against
the stage, assemblies, and balls, from which we use our endeavours
to withhold you, that we also say ; and what they said, we have as
good a right to say as they had. In fine, I do not say that this
was a doctrine addressed to certain states and conditions, to certain
characters and understandings. They distinguished neither quality,
nor rank, nor constitution, nor disposition. They spoke to Chris-
tians like you, and they spoke to all. In vain did some make the
same answer that is still made, on which St. Chrysostom excel-
lently remarks : " Whatever 1 see, and whatever I hear, diverts
me, and no more ; otherwise, it makes no impression on me, neither
am I in the least affected w T ith it. A ridiculous excuse, which they
deemed a disguisement and insincerity, or at least a delusion, and
an error in judgment : a disguisement and insincerity, because they
well knew that it was a pretext of which the most profligate would
sometimes avail themselves ; at least a delusion and an error in
judgment, because they well knew how glad people are to impose
on themselves, and what progress passion usually makes, which
they do not perceive at first, nay, will not perceive, but which is
at last but too perceptible.
ON WOttLDLY DIVERSIONS. 271
Now, beloved hearers, what can the partizans of the world object
to testimonies so express, so positively declared, and so respectable ?
Whom will they believe, if they will not submit to such an autho-
rity ? And would it not be an insufferable rashness, of which no
Christian of good sense will ever be guilty, to assert or pretend
that these men of God were all in the wrong, that they carried
things too far, and that in the present age we are more knowing
and enlightened than they were ? Nevertheless, there are, who,
without hesitation, appeal from all this to their own judgments,
and make no conscience, or the least scruple, of that which all the
fathers of the church have loudly reprobated, and branded as sinful.
Be pleased to consider the whole of the case. Conscience and sal-
vation are the things in question ; and all the competent, all the
acknowledged and authorized judges in things of this nature, have
passed their decision ; but some worldlings judge very differently.
Mind what I say ; some worldlings. For at least if it had been
the pastors of the faithful, teachers of morality, ministers of the
altar, spiritual directors, preachers of the Word, that now held
among us, on the question I am treating, principles not equally
severe with those of all antiquity ; and if these principles had been
generally and constantly followed by the most orthodox part of
Christians, perhaps then it might be more supportable that people
should examine, and hold arguments. But you know how it is ;
preachers in the pulpit, directors in the sacred tribunal of pen-
ance, doctors in the schools, pastors of the faithful, ministers of the
altar, all still hold the same language, which is corroborated by that
of all the true children, and the truly faithful of God's church.
Who, then, are the rest ? I have already said it — some worldlings :
that is to say, a certain number of libertine men, lovers of them-
selves, and fond of pleasure to a great degree ; men destitute of
learning or knowledge, and without attention to their salvation :
and vain women, who know how to deck and dizen their persons,
and no more ; whose whole ambition is to go abroad, and be taken
notice of; whose only care is to kill the tedious hours of life not
consecrated to amusements ; but, what is infinitely more deplorable,
who leave no means untried to feed and inflame their passions,
whereas, they should leave no stone unturned to extinguish and
deaden it. These are the oracles which would fain be heard, and
who, in fact, are heard but too much ; these are the great doctors
and masters, whose lights put out all other lights, and whose deter-
272 ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS.
urinations are absolute and unanswerable : these are the guides,
â– whose ways are the straightest ; these the sureties we may safely
take for our conscience, our salvation, and our eternal welfare.
Ah ! Christians, I leave you to judge of the matter yourselves, I
leave you to draw your own conclusions, while I pass to an article
of another nature, equally important, and equally common.
2ndly. For I may reckon, moreover, among criminal diversions,
and place them in that class, your fabulous histories, novels, and
romances, the reading of which is another occupation at idle times
in the present age, and which is attended with the same conse-
quences. These afford subject of conversation to young persons,
who employ whole hours in storing their minds with chimerical
ideas ; who burden their memories with quite imaginary fictions
and intrigues, and are very careful to retain the most striking and
shining passages ; who, know them all, and who knowing them all,
know nothing. It would, however, be of little consequence, if they
knew nothing, were that the only ill to be feared. But here is the
essential and capital point, and on which I would insist, namely ;
that nothing is more capable to corrupt purity and innocence of
heart, than bad books : that nothing diffuses through the whole
soid a more subtile, deadly, and speedy poison ; and that, therefore,
nothing can, with greater reason, be more strictly forbidden. Rea-
son, experience, the avowal of those who have had experience,
everything concurs to evince the truth of this assertion. And I
ask you, in effect, beloved hearer, you, to whom I speak, and who
have within yourself your conscience for a witness to what I say :
Is it not true, that proportionably as you addicted yourself to this
kind of reading, and it gave you delight, your relish for piety in-
sensibly diminished, and all the warmth of your devotion abated ?
I say more : is it not true, that by the custom you got of reading
such books, the spirit of the world took possession of your heart ;
that you perceived the spirit of Christianity to slacken, and grow
weaker and weaker ; that the principles instilled into your mind by
a good education, were considerably altered ; that your head was
filled with ridiculous conceptions of gallantry and vanity ; and that
everything else, how much soever more solid and serious, became
first insipid, then disagreeable, and at last odious and insupportable.
This is not all. But then keep nothing hid from yourself; ac-
knowledge the whole truth of the matter. Is it not true, that by
reading such works, and having constantly in your hands such
ON WORLDLY DIVERSIONS. 273
seeds of depravity, you have admitted imperceptibly into your soul
the demon of incontinence? What else gave rise to sensual
thoughts ? What else excited indelicate sentiments ? What else
occasioned indecent words ? Was it not by these, and the like
means, that the flesh predominated over the spirit, and that you
became a different person from what you had been till that time ?
Perhaps it surprises you ; but for my part I am not at all surprised
at it, as it was impossible, without a miracle, that it should not be
so. Having books of that kind, day after day before your eyes,
and these books being so infected as they are, it was morally impos-
sible that you should not catch the deadly venom, and that they
should not communicate their venom to you. For (to speak in the
language of the world, and to use the proper term) what, in strict
propriety of speech, is a romance ? A history, or, more properly,
a fable executed in the form of a history, in which love is handled
according to art and rule ; in which the ruling passion, and spring
of all other passions, is love ; in which are expressed, in lively co-
lours, all the foibles, raptures, capriciousness, and extravagance of
love ; in which nothing is seen but maxims of love, protestations
of love, artifice, tricks, and wiles of love ; in which every interest
(though it were the most dear according to the notions of mankind)
is superseded for love ; in which an infatuated man is governed by
nothing but love, insomuch, that love is his whole occupation, his
whole life, his whole object, his end, his happiness, his God and all.
Tell me if I exaggerate ; but tell me at the same time how, so frail
as we are, and so prone to evil, it is possible such thoughts should
run incessantly in the imagination, without making a deep impres-
sion on the heart ? How should the greatest saints resist them ?
Would not even an angel be overcome by them ? Would not they
make innocence herself to fail, and to suffer shipwreck ? Or, tell
me how, in a religion so pure and holy as ours, a Christian can be