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THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD, RIGHT AND WRONG Jonathan Mayhew |
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“And
he said also to the people, When ye see a cloud rise out of the west,
straightway ye say, There cometh a shower; and so it is. And when ye
see the south-wind blow, ye say, There will be heat; and it cometh to
pass. Ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky, and of the
earth: but how is it, that ye do not discern this time? Yea, and why
even of yourselves judge ye not what is right?” –Luke 12:54-57. These
are the words of our Lord Jesus Christ; and the occasion of them seems
to have been as follows: He had been preaching the gospel in Jerusalem
and neighboring cities of the Jews and had, by the purity of his
doctrine and the holiness of his life, together with the nature and
number of his miracles, convinced many persons that he was the
‘Messiah that was to come,’ and that they were not to ‘look for
another’ [Luke 7:18-23]. However the chief of the Scribes and
Pharisees rejected him as an imposter, attributing his miraculous
works to the power of magic, or his supposed familiarity with evil
spirits. Now
it is easy to see what an influence this conduct of the Scribes and
Pharisees, in vilifying our blessed Saviour, must unavoidably have had
upon the generality of the people. For they were in the highest esteem
amongst the Jews, both because they were supposed to have the
deepest insight into things of a religious nature, and, at the same
time, to be men of extraordinary piety. This favourable opinion
concerning them was indeed ill-grounded. But they had the talent of
imposing upon the people in great perfection, and in fact managed
matters with so much craft and subtlety that they were thought
almost the only saints in the world and the great oracles to be
consulted upon all occasions. The people placed an implicit faith in
their dogmas and decisions. Nothing was thought to bear the genuine
stamp of truth unless they had had the coining of it. And their
censure of any particular person, or doctrine, was sufficient to make
either of them odious to the multitude. When,
therefore, these infallible guides stigmatized our Lord as an ill man,
when they reproached him as one who, without any reason or authority,
was attempting to discredit certain opinions which they had
‘received to have and to hold from their forefathers’ [Mark
7:2-5], when they accused him of making innovations in the old
established religion to the great hazard of the souls of men, I say,
when they talked and railed in this pious strain, it gave a
general alarm to the people, especially to the superstitious vulgar,
and exposed our Lord to their contempt and hatred and insults.
They gave themselves no farther trouble to inquire into the grounds of
his pretensions to the Messiahship, concluding that he must
needs be a deceiver, who was condemned by such a learned and holy body
of men as that of the Scribes and Pharisees. Few
of them condescended so far as to come and hear him preach (this being
represented to them as dangerous) that so they might know what he had
to say for himself; and those that did came rather as spies, that
they might find occasion to cavil and to accuse him to the Priests and
Pharisees, than with such an unprejudiced and candid
disposition as became inquirers after the truth. But
although the generality of the Jews were
such abject slaves to the dictates of their spiritual instructors,
never caring to hesitate concerning the truth of what they had
asserted upon religious subjects, but receiving every thing, how
absurd soever, with all the humility of implicit faith, yet it seems
that in their temporal and worldly concerns, they were
cautious enough. Here they were not fond of taking up satisfied with
any man's word, but were forward to think, inquire, and judge for
themselves. This
is a short character of the people to whom our Lord speaks in the
text. And this being kept in view, his address will appear very
natural and seasonable: “And he said also to the people, When ye see
a cloud rise out of the west, straightway ye say, There cometh a
shower; and so it is. And when ye see the south-wind blow, ye say,
There will be heat; and it cometh to pass. Ye hypocrites, ye can
discern the face of the sky, and of the earth: but how is it, that ye
do not discern this time? Yea, and why even of yourselves judge ye not
what is right?” These
Words seem to be very plain of themselves, but the sense of them may
be expressed more at large in the following paraphrase: “And after these things, Jesus addressed himself
to the Jews, who were generally prejudiced against him through
their blind attachment to their spiritual guides, and said, ‘Ye that
suffer yourselves to be led blindfold by others with regard to me and
my doctrine, and things of a religious concern in general, are
nevertheless gracious enough in matters of equal difficulty and much
less importance. Ye are apt and skilful enough at distinguishing the
signs and tokens of things that are come to pass in the natural
world, in which your present interest is concerned.[1]
Ye can (for example) by observing the colour of the sky, and the
blowing of the wind, form a true judgment concerning the future change
of the weather. How comes it to pass, then, ye deluded hypocrites,
that amidst all your sagacity in things that relate to the present
world, ye are still blind and undiscerning in
things of a religious nature? Why do not ye that can
presage various changes from the appearance of the earth and heavens
discern also the periods and revolutions of things, the various
dispensations of providence in the moral world? In particular, how
comes it to pass that ye do not distinguish the present season,
in which God is erecting a new dispensation to succeed that of Moses?
These are signs and tokens enough to convince you that such a revolution is now
taking place, if ye would but examine them attentively. Why, then,
will ye suffer yourselves to be blinded by the authority of the
Priests and Pharisees, when God has given you sufficient
abilities to gain the knowledge of the truth? Why will ye not exert
your own faculties and judge for yourselves what is true and right in
this matter, as ye do in things of a worldly nature?” Thus
I have endeavoured to give a true idea of the original scope and
meaning of the words which I have chosen for the subject of my present
discourse. I shall now wave every thing in them peculiar to the time
and circumstances wherein they were spoken and observe from them
several universal
truths which concern all time and persons and places alike. As, I.
That there is a natural difference between truth and falsehood, right
and wrong. II.
That men are naturally endowed with faculties proper for the
discerning of these differences. III.
And lastly, That men are under obligation to exert these
faculties and to judge for themselves in things of a religious
concern. ----------- I.
That there is a natural difference between truth and falsehood,
right and wrong. —“Why even of yourselves judge ye not what is
right?” By
“what is right,” it is probable that our Saviour here more
immediately intends, what is true; for his discourse in
this place turns upon examining, judging, and inferring
one thing from another. But whether by this term we understand,
what is true in theory, or what is right in practice, it
will come to much the same thing at last, for there is an inseparable
connection between them. If certain things are true in
speculation, there must be some correspondent fitness of
actions resulting therefrom. And, on the other hand, if any thing be
allowed fit in a practical sense, that fitness or rightness
must be founded in certain truths and relations before
subsisting. I shall, therefore, take it for granted, that the text
supposes that there is in nature both a True, as distinguished
from speculative Error; and a Right, as distinguished
from Wrong in Conduct. And the remainder of this
discourse will be taken up with these important distinctions. Indeed
the spending of time to prove that there are really such differences
as those mentioned may appear to some to be rather childish
impertinence, or formal trifling, than a proper employment for
reasonable Creatures, it being such a plain and obvious truth. However
it is to be remembered that no notion is too absurd to deserve to be
refuted, while some are absurd enough to propagate, and others to
believe, it, especially if it be such an one as strikes at the root of
all religion and every thing wherein the happiness of mankind
conflicts. And
such is the notion of an absolute indifference in nature with relation
to truth and falsehood, right and wrong. For this being allowed, it
follows that we have no invariable rule of life and conduct. No man
upon this supposition is under a possibility either of judging or
acting amiss, or of the contrary. Each man thinks as justly as
another, how contrary soever his sentiments are. And so also each one acts
as rightly as any other, let him act how he will. This is to make
short work with all questions and debates concerning truth, religion,
and the rule of human conduct: it supersedes all inquiries about them
by presupposing that they have no existence but in the idea of certain
doting men who have employed themselves in inventing arbitrary
distinctions. There
seem to have been two species of Skeptics in the World: one of
which exploded the whole notion of truth and right, as opposed to
falsehood and wrong conduct, and another which seemingly allowed such
differences to have an existence in nature, but held it impossible for
us to discern them. It is only the first of these
opinions that we are concerned with at present; the latter will be
considered in our next discourse. To
begin with truth—Notwithstanding what some are pleased to
pronounce with their lips concerning the indifference of truth and
falsehood, it is hardly possible but that their hearts should be at
variance with their mouths, and give them the lie, even while
they are denying there is any such thing as falsehood. For if
there be any thing existing (which surely no body was ever so
absurd as to deny) there must necessarily be such a thing as truth:
truth, as abstracted from mind or intelligence, being nothing distinct
from the real nature and properties of things existing. Whatever
exists, has a real existence; and if so, it cannot be true that is has
no existence. Whatever has a being must also exist in some certain,
determinate manner, with such and such properties, affections, and
attributes, with such and such proportions, aspects, and relations.
And we can as little alter these by our opinions as we can
cause the things themselves to exist and not exist, alternately, as
our thoughts vary concerning them. Thus truth is somewhat determinate
in itself; it exists independently of our notions concerning it. And
the precise boundaries between that and falsehood are
also determined by the real nature and properties of things, whether
they are perceptible to us or not. Truth,
as it exists in the mind, is nothing but the perception of
knowledge of that independent truth now mentioned, or a knowledge of
things as they really exist. And as it relates to words and propositions,
it is nothing but the right use of certain arbitrary signs,
having a meaning annexed to them by a common consent, i.e., the using
them in such a manner that they shall be conformable to, and
expressive of, the real nature and properties of the thing treated of. To
return—Can any man think it equally true that he does, and that he
does not, exist? I instance in this, because it is familiar; but the
same question may be asked concerning every thing else. This is an
universal dilemma, applicable to every thing that comes under
consideration—“It is, or it is not.” No middle way can be taken.
This is indeed no new discovery; it is self-evident, and a first
principle. Thus,
that we either do, or do not, converse with sensible objects, so that
one may be truly affirmed and the other denied, is as plain as it is
that we either do, or do not, exist. We may proceed in the same manner
to consider things, which, if they exist at all, lie beyond the reach
of our animal senses. It is as certain in itself that there are, or
that there are not, spiritual and invisible agents as it is that there
are, or are not, sensible objects. And with the relation to the being
of a God, it is as plain that there is, or that there is not, such a Being,
as that there are, or are not, invisible agents in general. We
may descend in the same way to all the particular questions that have
arisen concerning the particular nature of his Being, upon
supposition he exists—concerning the nature of his
government—concerning the reality of a revelation from
him—concerning the immortality of our souls, &c. There must
necessarily be a true and a false with relation to every
question that can be proposed or come into our minds. We cannot so
much as doubt of the truth of any particular proposition without
supposing that truth lies on one side or the other. It
will be observed that I have not attempted to determine any of the
above-mentioned questions. This was beyond my present design. All I
aim at is to show that there is, and must be, a natural distinction
between truth and error in general, a distinction which does
not depend upon the precarious humours and opinions of men. Whatever
judgment we may form in any particular case, it no ways affects the
truth of it. Truth still remains the same simple, uniform, consistent
thing, amidst all the various and contrary opinions of mankind
concerning it. The
natural distinction between truth and falsehood being exploded, such
paradoxes as these must follow: —That no man’s opinions are either
right or wrong—That however contrary the sentiments of
different men are to one another, they are both equally conformable to
the nature and reality of the things they judge upon—That there are
neither any knowing nor any foolish men in the world—That what we
usually call wisdom and folly, are the same—And, what is stranger
than all, that these paradoxes are neither true nor false— If
there be any such thing as wisdom, as opposed to ignorance and folly,
it consists in knowing the truth; and a man is wise in the same degree
that he does so. There is no knowledge, but of some truth or fact. Or,
in other words, knowledge presupposes the being of truth, or something
to be known. Now if there be no such thing as truth, there is nothing
to be known; and, consequently, every man, yea, every being whatever,
must be entirely ignorant and destitute of knowledge, as destitute of
it, not only as “the horse and mule which hath no understanding,”
but as any part of senseless inanimate matter. So that notwithstanding
all the noise there has been in the world about wisdom and folly,
notwithstanding the universal applause that has been bestowed on some
persons, as gloriously distinguished from the rest of mankind by a
happy genius and peculiar sagacity, yet in reality all
this is at bottom nothing but empty words without any meaning at all.
Socrates and Plato, Locke and Newton, were not superior, in point of
wisdom, to the most illiterate husbandman. Nay; upon this supposition,
even Pyrrho and Arcesilaus themselves, the great leaders of the
skeptic tribe, knew no more than those whom they upbraided with their
ignorance. This indeed is a consequence which the Pyrrhonists will
hardly be persuaded to own. For there are none more apt than they to
value themselves upon their superior wisdom and penetration. And they
please themselves in particular with the thought of their being the
discoverers of this mighty arcanum, that there is no such thing
as truth, as distinguished from error. But if there be no such thing
as truth, why will they please themselves for their sagacity in making
this discovery? Or why will they endeavour to bring others over to
their opinion, when by their first, and, I might add, their only,
principle, those others are no more in an error than
themselves. Such is the perplexity, the endless labyrinth, that a man
brings himself into by asserting for truth that there is no such thing
as truth. We
are indeed left entirely in the dark with respect to many things; our
knowledge is, at best, but of small extent, and the opinions of men
are various. It is this that has given some men occasion to confound
truth and error, as though there were in nature no difference between
them. But I hope it is needless to say anything more in opposition to
an opinion so directly contrary to common sense. I
proceed now to the other distinction mentioned above: the distinction
between right and wrong in conduct. And, as it was before
observed, such a distinction must necessarily take place in
consequence of the former. There are, perhaps, some things so
indifferent as no ways to affect practice, whether they are true or
false. But there are other principles which, being allowed true,
immediately induce upon us an obligation to act in a particular,
determinate manner, so that to act thus shall be right
and reasonable, and to do the contrary unfit and wrong. Thus,
for example, it being supposed that there is some particular course or
method of action which tends to promote our happiness upon the whole,
and that a contrary conduct tends to our misery (which, by the way,
are not bare suppositions, but facts), a fitness of the former course
of action, in opposition to the latter, necessarily follows. For
happiness being in itself a good and misery an evil, it
is in itself right and reasonable to pursue the former and to avoid
the latter. If to this we add (which experience shows to be fact also)
that the same course of action which tends to private happiness
tends to public also, this lays us under a twofold obligation
to take that course. For it is in itself right to do good to others,
as well as to ourselves, happiness being as valuable to them as it is
to us. From this general principle, our obligation to what is usually
called moral and social virtue, to fidelity, justice, charity, to
humility and temperance, may be easily inferred. For it is apparent
from experience that by the steady, uniform practice of these virtues,
both the good of individuals and of the public is promoted. Indeed, it
seems impossible but that such a practice as tends to the good of the
one should tend to the good of the other also. For public happiness is
nothing but the happiness of a number of individuals
united in society, so that if the individuals of which the society
consists be happy, the community must necessarily be happy also. And,
on the other hand, the community is rendered miserable in the
same degree that individuals are so. Virtue, then, is what we
are under obligation to practice, without the consideration of a being
of God or of a future state, barely from its apparent tendency to make
mankind happy at present. Again,
let us suppose (what is at least supposable) that there is a God, a
being who created and who governs the world in infinite wisdom and
goodness, i.e., in such a manner as to communicate the greatest
possible happiness to his creatures considered collectively. —This
being is plainly the object of esteem, gratitude, love, reverence,
truth, etc., to all his rational creatures. His character is in itself
amiable and perfect. To treat him with contempt or disregard is to
treat him as being what he is not, which certainly cannot be right.
Piety, therefore, is what we are under obligation to, upon
supposition there is any such being as this existing. But
farther—If there be such a being, he is perfect in all moral
excellence, and therefore we and all other intelligent beings are
under obligation to copy after and imitate him according to the
condition and capacity of our natures, without the consideration of
his enjoining it upon us by any express and positive law. For so far
as we fall short of him, we fall short of perfection, according to the
supposition, he being the rule and standard of perfection. And so, on
the other hand, we are perfect in proportion as we resemble him in the
temper of our minds and imitate him in the conduct of our lives. And
this brings us, in another way, to the former condition, viz., that we
are under obligation to practice what is usually called moral
virtue; for by this we imitate God and fall in with his benevolent
design in creating and governing the world. Again—It
follows upon the supposition of such a being that his declared will
ought to be universally the rule of our actions, in whatever manner it
is made known to us, whether by natural reason or supernatural revelation,
and whether we are able to see the reason and grounds of his
injunctions or not. For properly speaking, our obligation to obey the
commands of such a being, as knows and wills always what is best, does
not arise in any degree from the particular manner in which we
come to the knowledge of his commands, or from our seeing the grounds
of them, but solely from our knowing that they are in fact his
commands. Thus, if this being has commanded us to submit ourselves to
Jesus of Nazareth as his Son and Delegate and our Lord
and Master, we ought to comply immediately with his will as soon as it
is made known to us. For it is apparently wrong and unreasonable to
thwart the will and authority of him who is infinitely wise and good,
although he had no power to chastise us for it. It will not so much as
bear a dispute, whether it is wrong or not, to act counter to the
injunctions of that being in any case, who in every case
enjoins that, and that only, which is reasonable for him to enjoin.
—If he commands with wisdom and goodness, we cannot disobey without
folly and wickedness. But,
after all, there is really no necessity of going so far to find our
obligation to what is usually called moral virtue as to consider its
tendency to happiness, its rendering us like God, the standard of
perfection, or to enquire whether the practice of it be enjoined upon
us by the positive will and command of God. We may find the grounds of
this obligation nearer home, even in our own breasts. There is such a
“law written in our hearts,” such an internal consciousness of the
moral excellency of virtue and of the odiousness of the contrary, as
really leaves us no room to doubt of our obligation to it, and so, in
a great measure, supersedes all other arguments. For we cannot
ordinarily violate the rules of justice, etc., without violating our
own minds at the same time, and turning our own accusers. The
principal objection that can be urged against the moral difference of
actions is taken from the difficulty there is, in some cases, to
determine the boundaries between right and wrong, the variety of
opinions that have prevailed in the world concerning questions of
right, especially in political affairs, and the different, yea,
contrary laws enacted by wise men in different ages and countries, and
all equally under the notion of their being right and equitable. But,
to use the words of a learned writer: “As
in painting, two very different colours, by diluting each other very
slowly and gradually, may, from the highest intenseness in either
extreme, terminate in the midst insensibly, and so run one into the
other, that it shall not be possible to even for a skillful eye to
determine exactly where the one ends and the other begins; and yet the
colours differ as much as can be, not in degree only, but
entirely in kind, as red and blue, or white and black. So
though, perhaps, it may be very difficult in some nice and perplexed
cases (which yet are very far from occurring frequently) to define
exactly the bounds of right and wrong, just and unjust, and there may
be some latitude in the judgment of different men and the laws of
diverse nations, yet right and wrong are nevertheless totally and
essentially different, even altogether as much as white and black,
light and darkness” (Dr. S. Clarke). The
admirable writer, whose words I have here quoted, seems very
charitably to attribute men’s entirely confounding right and wrong
to the difficulty which they find in some cases to determine what is
right and equitable and what is wrong and injurious, or to discern the
terminating line between them. And this difficulty is doubtless what
gives men an opportunity to oppose the notion of such a moral
difference in actions, under some little colour of argument. However,
an internal perception of the moral difference of things in general is
so interwoven with our very nature that it is hardly credible that any
man should really think all actions to be indifferent in their own
nature. Or, if any actually entertain such an opinion, it is not natural.
It does not proceed so much from men’s originally wanting clear
ideas of the difference in general between right and wrong as from
their having made these things indifferent, as far as their own
practice could effect it. Men have naturally as clear a
conception of the general difference between moral good and evil,
antecedent to all consideration of human laws and compacts, yea, to
the consideration of the will of God himself, as they have of the
difference between light and darkness. But as the organs of sight may
be abused and weakened to such a degree that a man shall at last
perceive no difference between the night and the day, and as most of
our other animal senses may be perverted and debauched so as to be
incapable of answering their original design, so also men’s natural
conscience of good and evil may, by frequent violations, lose its
quickness, and the mind itself become blind, callous, and insensible.
Our natural sense of the moral difference in actions and characters
may be rendered dull and useless. And thus the law written in the
hearts of men by the finger of God himself may be repealed and erased
by the powerful influence of vice, whereupon they deny that there was
ever any such law engraved on their minds. This is just as if Moses,
when his “anger waxed hot,” and he cast the two “tables of the
law” out of his hands and brake them beneath the mount, should have
immediately denied that God had ever written them or given them to him
to preserve. It is natural for men of corrupt minds and morals to
endeavour to get rid of all uneasy reflections upon what is past, and
all terrible presages of what may be the future, by entirely throwing
aside the distinction between moral good and evil, as if these were
but empty names without any meaning invented by civil and
ecclesiastical tyrants to keep the world in awe. However,
although the vices of men may go far towards darkening their
understandings, it is not to be supposed that the most degenerate of
them ever arrive at such a state of blindness as to have no real sense
of the difference between right and wrong, whatever they may pretend.
For such a sense, in some degree of it, seems inseparable from a
rational nature and cannot be totally extinguished, but with reason
itself. And it is worth observing that, with how good a conscience
soever, the greatest masters of skepticism pretend they commit the
most flagrant immoralities under the notion of all things being
indifferent in their own nature; yet they cannot help betraying
themselves and showing their natural sense of right and wrong upon
certain occasions. For who are more averse than they to take
the character of “knave” to themselves, though they generally take
no care not to deserve it? They choose to be esteemed as men of
honesty and integrity, and when it comes to their own turn to be
injured, they are as ready as any of their neighbours to accuse the
aggressor of wrong and injustice. If their moral sense were before
asleep, suffering injuries awakens it in a moment. And if they are not
right down atheists, they are ready to think strange that God should
let his thunder sleep while such villainies are perpetrated. —Thus
hard is it for men to disguise the inward sentiments of their hearts
in this case; the mask will drop off and nature peep out in some
unguarded hour— If
men would go no farther than to assert that there are some questions
of right so intricate and complicated that it is difficult or even
impossible to determine them, none would contradict them but such
arrogant and conceited persons as imagine their knowledge has no
limits. But when, not content with this, they boldly strike at the
foundation of every thing that is good and praiseworthy by denying the
moral difference of actions in general, and yet upon every turn are
complaining of injuries and abuses done or offered to themselves, it
is hard to say whether they are more proper objects of pity or
contempt, of indignation or ridicule, for they have doubtless a good
title to all. There
can be no danger of being too severe in censuring men of this stamp.
For what they say concerning the absolute indifference of actions is
either false or true. If it be false, nothing is too bad to be said of
them for thus setting aside the moral difference of action, for
putting the most excellent virtues and the most odious vices upon the
same footing, for making it as innocent for a child to murder his aged
parents as to kill a viper, and to blaspheme his Maker as it is to
deride a sot, and, in this way, dissolving all the ties and
obligations both of private and of social virtue. But, on the other
hand, if what they assert be true, there is not even a bare
possibility of injuring them, for there can be no such things as wrong
or injury, if all actions are absolutely indifferent in their own
nature. I
hope it in some measure appears from what has been said that, as truth
has a real existence in nature, so the distinction between right
and wrong necessarily takes place in consequence thereof. And
thus I have done with the first thing proposed. The next thing proposed was to show that men are naturally endowed with faculties proper for the discerning of those differences of which we have been speaking. But this must be left for the subject of another discourse. I shall conclude for the present with an obvious
inference from what has been said, viz., that since truth and right
have a real existence in nature, independent on the sentiments
and practices of men, they do not necessarily follow the
multitude, or major part; nor ought we to make number the criterion
of true religion. Men are fickle and various and contradictory in
their opinions and practices; but truth and moral rectitude are things
fixed, stable and uniform, having their foundation in the nature of
things. They will not change their nature out of complaisance to the
most numerous and powerful body of men in the world. We may conform
to them, but they will not condescend to us. Were number the
mark of truth and right, religion itself would be a perfect Proteus,
sometimes one thing and sometimes another, according to the opinion
that happens to prevail in the world. But if one man may err, why not
two? And if two, why not two thousand? And then, why not all mankind?
If truth and right are somewhat fixed, and men fickle and various, men
may err both with respect to principle and practice. But upon the
other hand, if truth and right have no existence but in the opinions
of men, then indeed they might depend upon number and multitude. But
then it may be reasonably asked, how many votes are necessary to
change a great lie into a glorious truth? How many to change a
flagrant crime into a meritorious virtue? And a sinner into a saint?
The church of Rome has been trying a great while to bring about these
wonderful changes and revolutions, and has indeed effected it to the
satisfaction of many. But nevertheless these are but some of the
“lying wonders of him, whose coming is after the working of Satan,
with all deceivableness and unrighteousness” [2 Thess 2:9-10]. It is
still false that bread is flesh, or wine, blood. Murder remains a vice
still; nor is breach of faith and perjury any virtue at all. The
“multitude” may “do evil,” and the “many, judge falsely.”
“Iniquity” may be “established by a law;” it may have all the
power and wealth of the world engaged on its side to support it, while
truth and right may be left solitary and friendless. Noah was left
alone—singular indeed, but still “a preacher of righteousness.”
He was a “perfect and upright man in his generation;” and, for
that reason, was preserved in the ark, the multitude being first
drowned in a flood of vice, and then deluged in a flood of water. Thus
also was Lot singularly righteous, while the multitude in Sodom and
Gomorrah first burned with impure lusts, and then were devoured
with flames from heaven, “being set forth as an example,
suffering the vengeance of eternal fire.” And how few were there
that adhered to our blessed Saviour while he was in the world? He was
“despised and rejected of Men,” as well as “a man of sorrows and
acquainted with grief.” It was the body of the people that
was against him. They did not “discern the time,” nor “judge
what is right.” Even to this day, how small is the number of those
who “worship the Father in spirit and in truth,” according to the
simplicity of the gospel, compared to those that are immersed in gross
ignorance, superstition, and all kinds of immorality? The whole
collective body of Christians makes but a small company compared to
the rest of the world. The Roman Catholics again are much more
numerous than the Protestants, and they have long ago voted us
heretics. However, there is no man in his senses that will allow
himself to be in an error because he cannot get so many hands held up
in favour if his tenets as another. Infallibility cannot be the result
of a great number of fallibles, nor perfection be found
in a large body of such as are each of them, considered singly, imperfect.
But nevertheless, we daily see that the principal argument with which
some endeavour to propagate their opinions is that they are generally
received, i.e., in that particular place or country; and if they can
but add that they were the doctrines embraced by their pious
forefathers, this they reckon such demonstration as no man in his
senses can resist. Such idle, superficial cant may gull the
thoughtless multitude, but will be despised by all others. If
we must needs be governed by number in the choice of our religion, it
is certainly reasonable to be governed by the greatest number.
And if so, we must be neither Calvinists nor Arminians, Trinitarians
nor Unitarians, Quakers nor Anabaptists, Churchmen nor Presbyterians,
Papists nor Protestants, nor Jews, nor Mohammedans, but we must turn
heathens at once, Paganism being the most universal Orthodoxy in the
world. It
will be observed that I have said nothing for or against any of the
different parties here enumerated. All I propose is to show the
unreasonableness of choosing our religion by vote. This, considering
the fickleness and capriciousness of mankind, amounts to much the same
thing with choosing it by lot. For whether the major or minor
part shall have truth and right of their side is entirely precarious.
Today it may be so, tomorrow otherwise. Nor
is it needless for us to be upon our guard in this matter, considering
how natural it is to the generality of mankind, especially to such as
are of an indolent, incurious make, to follow the most numerous and
powerful party, both in principle and practice, without troubling
themselves about the merits of the cause. Many would almost shudder at
the thoughts of an unfashionable vice, or an unpopular doctrine, who
would nevertheless readily embrace the same vice and the same doctrine
when unattended with the disadvantage of being contrary to the mode.
What we abhor when out of date and fashion, we are apt to admire upon
a change of times when it becomes reputable. It is most agreeable to
us to herd with the multitude, to believe and act as they do, right or
wrong. This gratifies our innate propensity towards society,
and many advantages naturally attend him that has the majority on his
side. He procures the goodwill of all about him by falling in with
their favourite opinions and practices, while the dissenter is
either ridiculed or railed at, and labours under innumerable
inconveniences. Hence it often comes to pass that we are insensibly
attached to such corrupt opinions and practices as we should have
abhorred, had they not been reputable and popular. For the sake of
being with “the many,” we daily see some not only renounce their
reason and understanding, but break through all the ties of honour,
friendship, humanity, charity and piety, making entire shipwreck of a
good conscience. Afterwards they imagine that number is the principle
criterion of truth and flatter themselves that they were always secure
of being in the right, while they adhere to that side that can carry
the vote. This conforming humour is too prevalent in the world
at present, and always was. Particularly it was so amongst the
Israelites in the time of Moses, for which reason that great Jewish
Lawgiver gave them the prohibition with which I shall close the
present discourse: “Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil;
neither shalt thou speak in a cause to decline after many to wrest
judgment” (Exodus 23:2). |
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©2004
American Unitarian Conference™