Complete Works of Laurence Sterne

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by Laurence Sterne


  SERMON VIII. TIME AND CHANCE.

  ECCLESIASTES IX. 11.

  I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, — nor the battle to the strong, — neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill, — but time and chance happeneth to them all.

  WHEN a man casts a look upon this melancholy description of the world, and sees contrary to all his guesses and expectations, what different fates attend the lives of men, — how oft it happens in the world, that there is not even bread to the wise, nor riches to men of understanding, &c. — he is apt to conclude with a sigh upon it, — in the words, — tho’ not in the sense of the wise man, — that time and chance happeneth to them all. — That time and chance, — apt seasons and fit conjunctures have the greatest sway, in the turns and disposals of men’s fortunes. And that, as these lucky hits, (as they are called) happen to be for, or against a man, — they either open the way to his advancement against all obstacles, — or block it up against all helps and attempts. That as the text intimates, neither wisdom, nor understanding, nor skill shall be able to surmount them.

  However widely we may differ in our reasonings upon this observation of Solomon’s, the authority of the observation is strong beyond doubt, and the evidence given of it in all ages so alternately confirmed by examples and complaints, as to leave the fact itself unquestionable. — That things are carried on in this world, sometimes so contrary to all our reasonings, and the seeming probabilities of success, — that even, the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, — nay, what is stranger still, — nor yet bread to the wise, who should last stand in want of it, — nor yet riches to men of understanding, who you would think best qualified to acquire them, — nor yet favour to men of skill, whose merit and pretences bid the fairest for it, — but that there are some secret and unseen workings in human affairs, which baffle all our endeavours, — and turn aside the course of things in such a manner, — that the most likely causes disappoint and fail of producing for us the effects which we wished and naturally expected from them. — You will see a man, of whom, was you to form a conjecture from the appearances of things in his favor, — you would say was setting out in the world, with the fairest prospect of making his fortune in it; — with all the advantages of birth to recommend him, — of personal merit to speak for him, — and of friends to help and push him forwards: you will behold him, notwithstanding this, disappointed in every effect you might naturally have looked for, from them; — every step he takes towards his advancement, something invisible shall pull him back, — some unforeseen obstacle shall rise up perpetually in his way, and keep there. — In every application he makes, — some untoward circumstance shall blast it. — He shall rise early, — late take rest, — and eat the bread of carefulnesess, — yet some happier man shall still rise up, and ever step in before him, and leave him struggling to the end of his life, in the very same place, in which he first begun it.

  The history of a second, shall in all respects be the contrast to this. He shall come into the world, with the most unpromising appearance, — shall set forwards without fortune, — without friends, — without talents to procure him either the one or the other. Nevertheless, you will see this clouded prospect brighten up insensibly, unaccountably before him; every thing presented in his way, shall turn out beyond his expectations, — in spight of that chain of unsurmountable difficulties which first threatened him, — time and chance shall open him a way, — a series of successful occurrences shall lead him by the hand to the summit of honor and fortune, and in a word, without giving him the pains of thinking, or the credit of projecting it, shall place him in safe possession of all that ambition could wish for.

  The histories of the lives and fortunes of men are full of instances of this nature, — where favorable times and lucky accidents have done for them, what wisdom or skill could not: and there is scarce any one who has lived long in the world, who upon looking backwards will not discover such a mixture of these in the many successful turns which have happened in his life, as to leave him very little reason to dispute against the fact, and, I should hope, as little upon the conclusions to be drawn from it. Some, indeed, from a superficial view of this representation of things, have atheistically inferred, — that because there was so much of lottery in this life, — and mere casualty seemed to have such a share in the disposal of our affairs, — that the providence of God stood neuter and unconcerned in their several workings, leaving them to the mercy of time and chance, to be furthered or disappointed as such blind agents directed. Whereas in truth the very opposite conclusion follows. For consider, — if a superior intelligent power did not sometimes cross and overrule events in this world, — then our policies and designs in it, would always answer according to the wisdom and stratagem in which they were laid, and every cause, in the course of things, would produce its natural effect without variation. Now, as this is not the case, it necessarily follows from Solomon’s reasoning, that, if the race is not to the swift, if knowledge and learning do not always secure men from want, — nor care and industry always make men rich, — nor art and skill infallibly raise men high in the world; — that there is some other cause which mingles itself in human affairs, and governs and turns them as it pleases; which cause can be no other than the first cause of all things, and the secret and over-ruling providence of that Almighty God, who though his dwelling is so high, yet humbleth himself to behold the things that are done in earth, raising up the poor out the dust, and listing the beggar from the dunghill, and contrary to all hopes, setting him with princes, even with the princes of his people; which by the way, was the case of David, who makes the acknowledgment! — And no doubt — one reason, why God has selected to his own disposal, so many instances as this, where events have run counter to all probabilities, — was to give testimony to his providence in governing the world, and to engage us to a consideration and dependence upon it, for the event and success of all our undertakings. For undoubtedly — as I said, — it should seem but suitable to nature’s law, that the race should ever be to the swift, — and the battle to the strong; — it is reasonable that the best contrivances and means should have best success, — and since it often falls out otherwise in the case of man, where the wiseest projects are overthrown, — and the most hopeful means are blasted, and time and chance happens to all; — You must call in the deity to untye this knot, — for for though at sundry times — sundry events fall out, — which we who look no further than the events themselves, call chance, because they fall out quite contrary both to our intentions and our hopes, — though at the same time, in respect of God’s providence over-ruling in these events; it were profane to call them chance, for they are pure designation, and though invisible, are still the regular dispensations of the superintending power of that Almighty being, from whom all the laws and powers of nature are derived, — who, as he has appointed, — so holds them as instruments in his hands: and without invading the liberty and free will of his creatures, can turn the passions and desires of their hearts to fulfill his own righteousness, and work such effects in human affairs, which to us seem merely casual, — but to him, certain and determined, and what his infinite wisdom sees necessary to be brought about for the government, and preservation of the world, over which providence perpetually presides.

  When the sons of Jacob had cast their brother Joseph into the pit for his destruction, — one would think, if ever any incident which concern’d the life of man deserved to be called chance, it was this. — That the company of Ishmaelites should happen to pass by, in that open country, at that very place, at that time too, when this barbarity was committed. After he was rescued by so favorable a contingency, — his life and future fortune still depended upon a series of contingencies equally improbable; for instance, had the business of the Ishmaelites who bought him, carried them from Gilead, to any other part of the world besides Egypt, or when they arrived there, had they sold th
eir bond-slave to any other man but Potiphar, throughout the whole empire, — or, after that disposal, had the unjust accusations of his master’s wife cast the youth into any other dungeon, than that where the king’s prisoners were kept, — or had it fallen out at any other crisis, than when Pharoah’s chief butler was cast there too, — had this, or any other of these events fallen out otherwise than it did, — a series of unmerited misfortunes had overwhelmed him, — and in consequence the whole land of Egypt and Canaan. From the first opening, to the conclusion of this long and interesting transaction, the providence of God suffered every thing to take its course: the malice and cruelty of Joseph’s brethren, wrought their worst mischief against him; — banished him from his country and the protection of his parent. — The lust and baseness of a disappointed woman sunk him still deeper: — loaded his character with an unjust reproach, — and to compleat his ruin, doomed him, friendless, to the miseries of a hopeless prison where he lay neglected. Providence, though it did not cross these events, — yet providence bent them to the most merciful ends. When the whole DRAMA was opened, then the wisdom and contrivance of every part of it was displayed. Then it appeared, it was not they (as the patriarch inferred in consolation of his brethren,) it was not they who sold him, but God,— ’twas he sent him thither before them, — his superintending power availed itself of their passions — directed the operations of them, — held the chain in his hand, and turned and wound it to his own purpose.

  “Ye verily thought evil against me, — but God meant it for good, — ye had the guilt of a bad intention, — his providence the glory of accomplishing a good one, — by preserving you a posterity upon the earth, and bring to pass as it is this day, to save much people alive.”

  All history is full of such testimonies, which though they may convince those who look no deeper than the surface of things, that time and chance happen to all, — yet, to those who look deeper, they manifest at the same time, that there is a hand much busier in human affairs than what we vainly calculate; which though the projectors of this world overlook, — or at least make no allowance for in the formation of their plans, they generally find it in the execution of them. And though the fatalist may urge, that every event in this life, is brought about by the ministry and chain of natural causes, — yet, in answer, — let him go one step higher — and consider, — whose power it is, that enables these causes to work, — whose knowledge it is, that foresees what will be their effects, — whose goodness it is, that is invisibly conducting them forwards to the best and greatest ends for the happiness of his creatures.

  So that as a great reasoner justly distinguishes, upon this point, —

  “It is not only religiously speaking, but with the strictest and most philosophical truth of expression, that the scripture tells us, that GOD commandeth the ravens, — that they are his directions, which the winds and the seas obey. If his servant hides himself by the brook, such an order, causes and effects shall be laid, — that the fowls of the air shall minister to his support. — When this resource fails, and his prophet is directed to go to Zerepha, — for that, he has commanded a widow woman there to sustain him, — the same hand which leads the prophet to the gate of the city, — shall lead forth the distress’d widow to the same place, to take him under her roof, — and tho’ upon the impulse of a different occasion, shall nevertheless be made to fulfill his promise and intention of their mutual preservation”.

  Thus much for the proof and illustration of this great and fundamental doctrine of a providence; the belief of which is of such consequence to us, as to be the great support and comfort of our lives.

  Justly therefore might the Psalmist upon this declaration, — that the Lord is King, — conclude, that the earth may be glad thereof, yea the multitude of the isles may be glad thereof.

  May GOD grant the persuasion may make us as virtuous, as it has reason to make us joyful, and that it may bring forth in us the fruits of good living to his praise and glory, to whom be all might, majesty and dominion, now and for evermore, Amen.

  SERMON IX. THE CHARACTER OF HEROD. PREACHED ON INNOCENTS DAY.

  MATTHEW II. 17.18.

  Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, — In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachael weeping for her children, and would not be comforted because they are not.

  THE words which St. Matthew cites here as fulfilled by the cruelty and ambition of Herod, — are in the 31st chapter of Jeremiah 15th verse. In the foregoing chapter, the prophet having declared God’s intention of turning the mourning of his people into joy, by the restoration of the tribes which had been led away captive into Babylon; he proceeds in the beginning of this chapter, which contains this prophecy, to give a more particular description of the great joy and festivity of that promised day, when they were to return once more to their own land, to enter upon their ancient possessions, and enjoy again all the privileges they had lost, and amongst others, and what was above them all, — the favour and protection of God, and the continuation of his mercies to them and their posterity.

  To make therefore the impression of this change the stronger upon their minds — he gives a very pathetic representation of the preceeding sorrow on that day when they were first led away captive.

  Thus saith the Lord, A voice was heard in Rama; lamentation and bitter weeping, Rachael weeping for her children, refused to be comforted, because they were not.

  To enter into the full sense and beauty of this description, it is to be remembered that the tomb of Rachael, Jacob’s beloved wife, as we read in the 35th of Genesis, was situated near Rama, and betwixt that place and Bethlehem. Upon which circumstance, the prophet raises one of the most affecting scenes, that could be conceived; for as the tribes in their sorrowful journey betwixt Rama and Bethlehem in their way to Babylon, were supposed to pass by this monumental pillar of their ancestor Rachael Jacob’s wife, the prophet by a common liberty in rhetoric, introduces her as rising up out of her sepulchre, and as the common mother of two of their tribes, weeping for her children, bewailing the sad catastrophe of her posterity led away into a strange land — refusing to be comforted, because they were not, — lost and cut off from their country, and in all likelyhood, never to be restored back to her again.

  The Jewish interpreters say upon this, that the patriarch Jacob buried Rachael in this very place, foreseeing by the spirit of prophecy, that his posterity should that way be led captive, that she might as they passed her, intercede for them. —

  But this fanciful superstructure upon the passage, seems to be little else than a mere dream of some of the Jewish doctors; and indeed, had they not dream’t it when they did, ’tis great odds, but some of the Romish dreamers would have hit upon it before now. For as it favors the doctrine of intercessions — if there had not been undeniable vouchers for the real inventors of the conceit, one should much sooner have sought for it amongst the oral traditions of this church, than in the Talmud, where it is. —

  But this by the bye. There is still another interpretation of the words here cited by St. Matthew, which altogether excludes this scenecal representation I have given of them. — By which ’tis thought, that the lamentation of Rachael, here described, has no immediate reference to Rachael, Jacob’s wife, but that it simply alludes to the sorrows of her descendents, the distressed mothers of the tribes of Benjamin and Ephraim who might accompany their children, led into captivity as far as Rama, in their way to Babylon, who wept and wailed upon this sad occasion, and as the prophet describes them in the person of Rachael, refusing to be comforted for the loss of her children, looking upon their departure without hope or prospect of ever beholding a return.

  Which ever of the two senses you give the words of the prophet, the application of them by the evangelist is equally just and faithful. For as the former scene he relates, was transacted upon the very same stage — in the same district of Bethlehem near Rama — where so many mothers of the same trib
e now suffered this second most affecting blow — the words of Jeremiah, as the evangelist observes, were literally accomplished, and no doubt, in that horrid day, a voice was heard again in Rama, lamentation and bitter weeping — Rachael weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted: — every Bethlemitish mother involved in this calamity, beholding it with hopeless sorrow — gave vent to it — each one, bewailing her children, and lamenting the hardness of their lot, with the anguish of a heart as incapable of consolation, as they were of redress. Monster! — could no consideration of all this tender sorrow, stay thy hands? — Could no reflection upon so much bitter lamentation throughout the coasts of Bethlehem, interpose and plead in behalf of so many wretched objects, as this tragedy would make? — Was there no way open to ambition but that thou must trample upon the affections of nature? Could no pity for the innocence of childhood — no sympathy for the yernings of parental love incline thee to some other measures for thy security — but thou must thus pitilessly rush in — take the victim by violence — tear it from the embraces of the mother — offer it up, before her eyes — leave her disconsolate for ever — broken-hearted with a loss — so affecting in itself — so circumstanced with horror, that no time, how friendly soever to the mournful — should ever be able to wear out the impressions.

 

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