1 Cor. vi. 12.
All things are lawful unto me; but all things are not expedient: All things are lawful for me; but I will not be brought under the power of any.
It would be taking up too much of your time, and of this discourse, to explain minutely the occasion of these words, and the connexion they have with the general argument of this chapter. Let it suffice to say, that they are introduced as an answer to something which the Corinthian Christians did, or might alledge for their neglect of the instructions, given them by the Apostle. We may conceive them to speak to this effect—“What you enjoin us so strictly to avoid, is not one of those practices which can be deemed unlawful: it is not, as we conceive, condemned by the law of nature, certainly, not by the law of that society to which we belong. Now in matters of this kind, there is no need of advice or direction: the things being indifferent in themselves, we may do as we please, and we are disposed, in the present case, to make use of our Christian liberty.”
To this plea, or suggestion, the Apostle replies in the text: “Admitting, says he, the truth of what ye alledge for yourselves, it does not follow that I may not properly and usefully direct your conduct, in the present case. For suppose that all things are lawful to me, all things are not expedient: And, again, though all things are lawful to me, I will not be brought under the power of any.”
St. Paul, you see, does not stay to consider whether the things forbidden to the Corinthians, were lawful or not (though possibly they might mistake in that assumption, as licentious or thoughtless people, we know, every day do) but, be this as it may, he insists that he had reason to lay them under some restraint even in lawful things, because the practice of such things was inexpedient, in many respects; And because, if all other considerations might be overlooked, it is enough that an unrestrained indulgence in them begets slavish habits, and would, in the end, destroy, or very much impair, their moral freedom.
Of the words, thus far opened, I propose to make this use; to dissuade you from giving a full scope to the pursuit even of innocent pleasures; and that, from the two considerations, expressed in the text:
I. That such devotion of ourselves to them is, on many other accounts, hurtful and improper—all things are not expedient: And
II. That, in particular, it violates the dignity of human nature, by taking from us, or weakening to a great degree, that manly authority of reason, that virtuous self-command, which we should always retain, and be in a condition to exert, even in indifferent matters—I will not be brought under the power of any.
1. Wealth and prosperity have a natural tendency to alter, that is, in the language of moralists, to corrupt, the public manners. Hence it is that the old English habits of plainness, industry, and frugality, are, now, exchanged for those of indulgence, dissipation, and expence. All the elegant accommodations of life have an unusual stress laid upon them; and there seems to be a general effort to advance them all to the last degree of refinement. The superfluous, which we call the fine arts, excite an universal admiration, and administer, in ten thousand ways, to a luxurious, which, again, takes the name of a polite, indulgence. Hence, society, which used to fill only the vacant intervals of business, is now become the business of life; and yet is found insipid (so insatiable is the love of dissipation) if it be not, further, quickened by amusements. These have multiplied upon us so prodigiously, that they meet us at every turn, and in every shape; nay, are grown so common, that they would almost lose the name of amusements, if every possible art were not employed to give a poignancy to them, and if fashion, after all, more than the pleasure they afford, did not support the credit of them. As the last resource of the weary disappointed mind, we have found means to interest our keenest passions in one species of amusement, which is therefore called play, by way of eminence; and is become the favourite one, because the most violent: just as the hottest cordials succeed to the free use of strong liquors.
In this state of things (a very alarming one, in all views) nothing threatens the utter ruin of the little virtue, that is left among us, so much, as the general persuasion, that such pursuits may be indulged to any degree, because they are commonly acknowledged to be lawful. Here, then, the distinction of the Apostle comes in very seasonably, and may, one would hope, be pressed on the lovers of pleasure, with some effect. We may question, it seems, the expediency of these pursuits, how indifferent soever they be in their own nature; and a little reflexion will shew that they are, indeed, inexpedient, that is, unprofitable, unadvisable, improper, in a great variety of respects.
I do not suppose, at present, that the expence of them is ruinous to those, who devote themselves to these pleasures (for then they would plainly not be lawful to such persons); but consider, if you can afford to pay the price of them ever so well, they take up too much of your time: abundantly too much, if you have any profession to follow, or to prepare yourselves for, as most men have; but too much, if you have not, because it might, and should be employed on better things.
Then, of the little time, they leave to yourselves, they disable you, in some degree, for making the proper use. For they dissipate the attention; they relax the nerves of industry and application; they spread a languor over all the faculties, and make the exertion of them, to any valuable purpose, painful at least, if not impossible. We hear it generally observed, that there is a scarcity of able men in all the departments of life. Can it be otherwise, when the vigour of the mind, which should nourish all great and laudable efforts, which is so requisite to push the active powers of invention, or recollection, to their full extent, is wasted on trifles, is checked by frivolous habits, and left to languish under them?
Or say, that you have force of mind enough to elude this so natural effect of dissipation, is it nothing that, by giving your countenance to it, you draw in weaker spirits to make the dangerous experiment? that you help to propagate the enfeebling passion through all quarters, till, from this authorized scene of vanity, the Capital, the contagion spreads (as we see it now does) to the smaller towns, and even to private houses, in the remotest provinces? that you contribute to make respectable I know not what frivolous and worthless arts, and, of course, to multiply the professors of them, to the great discouragement and decay of useful industry? that you hurt the interests of society, by giving an air of importance to the veriest trifles, and by diverting on these the attention, and the passion, that should regularly, and would otherwise, exert themselves on nobler objects?
I might push these questions still further. For I remember what history attests, and what wise men have said, on the chapter of polite arts and elegant amusements.
“They tell us, how sad a sign[246] of the times it is, when they grow into general repute among us; that from incessantly indulged appetites (let the object of them be what it will) such an impotence of mind may follow, such a lust of gratification, such an impatience of controuling a predominant fancy, as shall overleap all the fences of discretion and virtue. The dæmon of taste, say they, shall be obeyed, in defiance of every private and public duty, till distress, disgrace, and infamy break in upon us; till we seek the relief of our wants in fraud and rapine, involve the public ruin in our own, and, in the end, rush blindfold, through an extreme of profligacy, to desperation.”
To this effect, and in this tone, have some inveighed against our more refined and elegant amusements. But I return to what are commonly known by that name: and with respect to these, allow me to say that the life of man is a serious thing[247]: so serious, that dissolute, I mean, untempered, continued mirth, or pleasure, is not of a piece with it[248]. Our virtue, our hopes, nay, our present happiness depends on keeping the mind in a firm and steady frame. Whatever encroaches on this manliness of temper, is pernicious, and unchristian.
I will indulge the extreme candour to suppose, that, in a constant round of lawful amusements, you do not forget, or intermit your moral and religious duties. But with what spirit are they performed? With disgust, I doubt; but certainly, with indifference. Nor is this the worst. Temptations are to be expected in this life: and in what condition are we to meet them? Nay, we expose ourselves to needless temptation, even in the midst of these lawful pleasures; and we bring no power with us, hardly the inclination, to withstand it. The present scene distracts the mind, and fascinates the senses. And, in this delirium of the whole man, without God in his thought, or heaven in his eye, what wonder if he become the sport, and, almost before he is aware, the victim of every passion!
Still he is not happy in this feverish state: at most, he but forgets himself, for a moment: and the intervals of his amusement, which, in the nature of things, must be many and long, are filled with disgust and languor. Nay, the very amusement wears out by frequent repetition. And then such a sickliness of mind succeeds, and such a weariness of living on in a too much used and exhausted world, as is insupportable and fatal to him[249].
You see then there are many good reasons, which shew the inexpediency of prosecuting even lawful pleasures with an unrestrained passion. But, if all others were away, there is ONE consideration still behind, and of so much weight, that St. Paul scruples not to make a distinct argument of it, and to press it on the Corinthian Christians, as fully decisive of the point in question—All things are lawful for me; but I WILL NOT BE BROUGHT UNDER THE POWER OF ANY—And to unfold this argument is what I proposed to myself
2. Under the second head of this discourse.
It should be the ambition of every man to preserve the independency of his own mind on all his natural or acquired inclinations. The dignity of his character depends on this supremacy: and his virtue is no longer secure, than while he retains the power, on all occasions, to exert it.
1. The stoical wise man was exposed to much ridicule by taking to himself the name and office of a king. The pretensions were high, no doubt, and the language, something arrogant and ostentatious. But, let the terms, we employ, be what they will, all philosophy, that deserves the name, must agree in this, That to have the command of himself, is the duty, and chief distinction of a wise man[250]. There is, then, a consistency and harmony in his whole conduct. We naturally respect those who give this proof of respecting themselves; and we place an entire confidence in the vigour and uniformity of their character.
Again: though the virtue of self-denial shine out to most advantage in the conquest of ardent passions and violent temptations, its use is not inconsiderable in curbing all the lighter fancies. The reason is, that custom prevails insensibly, and reaches farther than we, at first, intended. By humouring the mind in trifles, we teach it to presume on its own importunity, in greater matters: and it will be found a convenient rule in the management of our passions, as of our children, to refuse a compliance with them, not merely when they ask improper things, but when they ask any thing with impatience.
Even our curiosity, an innocent and useful passion, should be kept within bounds, and not indulged, as we see it is, on every occasion that presents itself to us.
The continence of Scipio has been much and justly applauded. But he went a step too far, in seeing his captive. He triumphed, indeed, over the stronger temptation, but he was not enough on his guard against the weaker: by complying too easily with a frivolous curiosity, he risked the honour of that virtue, which a pagan historian finds so divine in ONE, who was et juvenis, et cœlebs, et victor[251].
To apply these reflexions to the case before us. It may seem to be a matter of great indifference, whether we indulge an inclination for lawful amusements, or not. But the dignity of our character is concerned in keeping a strict hand over our inclinations of every sort: and, if it were only for an exercise of self-government, it would be worth the while to moderate, that is, frequently to suspend, the use of a favourite, though innocent gratification. To be enslaved by vicious habits, is the ignominy of a little mind: to be superior to all, is the glory of a great one.
2. But, in truth, there is no security in any case, if we let go this habit of self-government. One compliance inevitably brings on another; and, though we set out with the design of stopping at a certain point, we shall almost fatally be carried much farther. We meant to acquiesce in this, confessedly harmless, indulgence: constant use makes it insipid; and then we venture on one of a suspicious character. Being now on the confines of vice, we are easily pushed into that quarter; with some doubt and hesitation, at first; but scruples give way, as the habit strengthens, and all vices being connected with each other, especially all of one sort, we, by degrees, make the trial of all: and thus, from an innocent fancy, or inclination, indulged too freely, at setting out, we slip insensibly, and beside our purpose, into manifest, perhaps universal, dissolution.
So salutary, so divine is the resolution of the Apostle! All things are lawful for me: but I will not be brought under the power of any.
To interdict amusements, altogether, to the vivacity of youth, would be severe and cynical. They are abundantly too numerous, at present, and too much frequented: but many of them are supposed to be, and some, without doubt, are, in themselves, lawful. Of these, only, I am now speaking: and even of these it must be affirmed, that the unrestrained use of them is not expedient; as, for the other reasons suggested to you in this discourse, so chiefly, because it degrades the man, and enslaves him.
To conclude; the safe and manly part is, to be temperate in all things[252]: to make our pleasures, the occasional relaxation[253] of the mind, and by no means the employment of it: not, perhaps, to affect a total abstinence from them, which the world would account an incivility; but resolutely to forbear all vicious, or but suspected pleasures: and, for the rest, to keep a great deal on this side of what is thought allowable in the use of them.