There is nothing in which the mind of man is more divided than in the accounts of this horrid nature. — For when we consider man, as fashioned by his maker — innocent and upright — full of the tenderest dispositions — with a heart inclining him to kindness, and the love and protection of his species — this idea of him would almost shake the credit of such accounts; — so that to clear them — we are forced to take a second view of man — very different from this favorable one, in which we insensibly represent him to our imaginations — that is — we are obliged to consider him — not as he was made — but as he is — a creature by the violence and irregularity of his passions capable of being perverted from all these friendly and benevolent propensities, and sometimes hurried into excesses so opposite to them, as to render the most unnatural and horrid accounts of what he does but too probable. — The truth of this observation will be exemplifyed in the case before us. For next to the faith and character of the historian who reports such facts, — the particular character of the person who committed them is to be considered as a voucher for their truth and credibility; — and if upon enquiry, it appears, that the man acted but consistent with himself, — and just so as you would have expected from his principles, — the credit of the historian is restored, — and the fact related stands incontestable, from so strong and concurring an evidence on its side. —
With this view, it may not be an unacceptable application of the remaining part of a discourse upon this day, to give you a sketch of the character of Herod, not as drawn from scripture, — for in general it furnishes us with few materials for such descriptions: — the sacred scripture cuts off in few words the history of the ungodly, how great soever they were in the eyes of the world, — and on the other hand dwells largely upon the smallest actions of the righteous. — We find all the circumstances of the lives of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph, recorded in the minutest manner. — The wicked seem only mentioned with regret; just brought upon the stage, on purpose to be condemned. The use and advantage of which conduct — is, I suppose, the reason, — as in general it enlarges on no character, but what is worthy of imitation. ’Tis however undeniable, that the lives of bad men are not without use, — and whenever such a one is drawn, not with a corrupt view to be admired, — but on purpose to be detested, — it must excite such an horror against vice, as will strike indirectly the same good impression. And though it is painful to the last degree to paint a man in the shades which his vices have cast upon him, — yet when it serves this end, and at the same time illustrates a point in sacred history — it carries its own excuse with it.
This Herod, therefore, of whom the evangelist speaks, if you take a superficial view of his life, you would say was a compound of good and evil, — that though he was certainly a bad man, — yet you would think the mass was tempered at the same time with a mixture of good qualities. So that, in course, as is not uncommon, he would appear with two characters very different from each other. If you looked on the more favorable side, you would see a man of great address, — popular in his behaviour, — generous, prince-like in his entertainments and expences, and in a word set off with all such virtues and shewy properties, as bid high for the countenance and approbation of the world.
View him in another light, he was an ambitious, designing man, — suspicious of all the world, — rapacious, — implacable in his temper, — without sense of religion, — or feeling of humanity. — Now in all such complex characters as this, — the way the world usually judges, is — to sum up the good and the bad against each other, — deduct the lesser of these articles from the greater, and (as we do in passing other accounts) give credit to the man for what remains upon the ballance. Now, though this seems a fair, — yet I fear ’tis often a fallacious reckoning, — which though it may serve in many ordinary cases of private life, yet will not hold good in the more notorious instances of men’s lives, especially when so complicated with good and bad, as to exceed all common bounds and proportions. Not to be deceived in such cases we must work by a different rule, which though it may appear less candid, — yet to make amends, I am persuaded will bring us in general much nearer to the thing we want, — which is truth. The way to which is — in all judgments of this kind, to distinguish and carry in your eye, the principle and ruling passion which leads the character — and separate that, from the other parts of it, — and then take notice, how far his other qualities, good and bad, are brought to serve and support that. For want of this distinction, — we often think ourselves inconsistent creatures, when we are the furthest from it, and all the variety of shapes and contradictory appearances we put on, are in truth but so many different attempts to gratify the same governing appetite. —
With this clew, let us endeavour to unravel this character of Herod as here given.
The first thing which strikes one in it is ambition, an immoderate thirst, as well as jealousy of power; — how inconsistent soever in other parts, his character appears invariable in this, and every action of his life was true to it. — From hence we may venture to conclude, that this was his ruling passion, — and that most, if not all the other wheels were put in motion by this first spring. Now let us consider how far this was the case in fact.
To begin with the worst part of him, — I said he was a man of no sense of religion, or at least no other sense of it, but that which served his turn — for he is recorded to have built temples in Judea and erected images in them for idolatrous worship, — not from a persuasion of doing right, for he was bred a Jew, and consequently taught to abhor all idolatry, — but he was in truth sacrificing all this time, to a greater idol of his own, his ruling passion; for if we may trust Josephus, his sole view in so gross a compliance was to ingratiate himself with Augustus and the great men of Rome from whom he held his power. — With this he was greedy and rapacious — how could he be otherwise with so devouring an appetite as ambition to provide for? — He was jealous in his nature, and suspicious of all the world. — Shew me an ambitious man, that is not so; for as such a man’s hand, like Ishmael’s, is against every man, he concludes, that every man’s hand in course is against his.
Few men were ever guilty of more astonishing acts of cruelty — and yet the particular instances of them in Herod were such as he was hurried into, by the alarms this waking passion perpetually gave him. He put the whole Sanadrim to the sword — sparing neither age, or wisdom, or merit — one cannot suppose, simply from an inclination to cruelty — no — they had opposed the establishment of his power at Jerusalem.
His own sons, two hopeful youths, he cut off by a public execution — The worst men have natural affection — and such a stroke as this would run so contrary to the natural workings of it, that you are forced to suppose the impulse of some more violent inclination to overrule and conquer it. — And so it was, for the Jewish historian tells us, ’twas jealousy of power, — his darling object — of which he feared they would one day or other dispossess him — sufficient inducement to transport a man of such a temper into the bloodiest excesses.
Thus far this one fatal and extravagant passion, accounts for the dark side of Herod’s character. This governing principle being first laid open — all his other bad actions follow in course, like so many symptomatic complaints from the same distemper.
Let us see, if this was not the case even of his virtues too.
At first sight it seems a mystery — how a man, so black as Herod has been thus far described — should be able to support himself, in the favor and friendship of so wise and penetrating a body of men, as the Roman senate, of whom he held his power. To counter-ballance the weight of so bad and detested a character — and be able to bear it up, as Herod did, one would think he must have been master of some great secret worth enquiring after — he was so. But that secret was no other than what appears on this reverse of his character. He was a person of great address — popular in his outward behavior. — He was generous, prince-like in his entertainments and expences. The world was then as corrup
t at least, as now — and Herod understood it — knew at what price it was to be bought — and what qualities would bid the highest for its good word and approbation.
And in truth, he judged this matter so well — that notwithstanding the general odium and prepossession which arose against so hateful a character — in spite of all the ill impressions, from so many repeated complaints of his cruelties and oppressions — he yet stemmed the torrent — and by the specious display of these popular virtues bore himself up against it all his life. So that at length, when he was summoned to Rome to answer for his crimes — Josephus tells us, — that by the mere magnificence of his expences — and the apparent generosity of his behavior, he entirely confuted the whole charge — and so ingratiated himself with the Roman senate — and won the heart of Augustus — (as he had that of Anthony before) that he ever after had his favor and kindness; which I cannot mention without adding — that it is an eternal stain upon the character and memory of Augustus, that he sold his countenance and protection to so bad a man, for so mean and base a consideration.
From this point of view, if we look back upon Herod — his best qualities will shrink into little room, and how glittering soever in appearance, when brought to this ballance, are found wanting. And in truth, if we would not willingly be deceived in the value of any virtue or set of virtues in so complex a character — we must call them to this very account; examine whom they serve, what passion and what principle they have for their master. When this is understood, the whole clew is unravelled at once, and the character of Herod, as complicated as it is given us in history — when thus analysed, is summed up in three words — That he was a man of unbounded ambition, who stuck at nothing to gratify it, — so that not only his vices were ministerial to his ruling passion, but his virtues too (if they deserve the name) were drawn in, and listed into the same service.
Thus much for this character of Herod — the critical review of which has many obvious uses, to which I may trust you, having time but to mention that particular one which first led me into this examination, namely, that all objections against the evangelist’s account of this day’s slaughter of the Bethlemitish infants — from the incredibility of so horrid an account — are silenced by this account of the man; since in this, he acted but like himself, and just so as you would expect in the same circumstances, from every man of so ambitious a head — and so bad a heart. — Consider what havock ambition has made — how often the same tragedy has been acted upon larger theatres — where not only the innocence of childhood — or the grey hairs of the aged, have found no protection — but whole countries without distinction have been put to the sword, or what is as cruel, have been driven forth to nakedness and famine to make way for new comers under the guidance of this passion. — For a specimen of this, reflect upon the story related by Plutarch: — when by order of the Roman senate, seventy populous cities were unawares sacked and destroyed at one prefixed hour, by P. Aemilius — by whom one hundred and fifty thousand unhappy people were driven in one day into captivity — to be sold to the highest bidder to end their days in cruel labor and anguish. As astonishing as the account before us is, it vanishes into nothing from such views, since it is plain from all history, that there is no wickedness too great for so unbounded a cause, and that the most horrid accounts in history are, as I said above, but too probable effects of it. —
May God of his mercy defend mankind from future experiments of this kind — and grant we may make a proper use of them, for the sake of Jesus Christ, Amen.
SERMON X. JOB’S ACCOUNT OF THE SHORTNESS AND TROUBLES OF LIFE, CONSIDERED.
JOB XIV. 1, 2.
Man that is born of a woman, is of few days, and full of trouble: — He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.
THERE is something in this reflection of holy Job’s, upon the shortness of life, and instability of human affairs, so beautiful and truly sublime; that one might challenge the writings of the most celebrated orators of antiquity, to produce a specimen of eloquence, so noble and thoroughly affecting. Whether this effect be owing in some measure, to the pathetic nature of the subject reflected on; — or to the eastern manner of expression, in a stile more exalted and suitable to so great a subject, or (which is the more likely account,) because they are properly the words of that being, who first inspired man with language, and taught his mouth to utter, who opened the lips of the dumb, and made the tongue of the infant eloquent; — to which of these we are to refer the beauty and sublimity of this, as well as that of numberless other passages in holy writ, may not seem how material; but surely without these helps, never man was better qualified to make just and noble reflections upon the shortness of life, and instability of human affairs, than Job was, who had himself waded through such a sea of troubles, and in his passage had encountered many vicissitudes of storms and sunshine, and by turns had felt both the extremes, of all the happiness, and all the wretchedness that mortal man is heir to.
The beginning of his days was crowned with every thing that ambition could wish for; — he was the greatest of all the men of the East, — had large and unbounded possessions, and no doubt enjoyed all the comforts and advantages of life, which they could administer. — Perhaps you will say, a wise man might not be inclined to give a full loose to this kind of happiness, without some better security for the support of it, than the mere possession of such goods of fortune, which often slip from under us, and sometimes unaccountably make themselves wings, and fly away. — But he had that security too, — for the hand of providence which had thus far protected, was still leading him forwards, and seemed engaged in the preservation and continuance of these blessings; — God had set a hedge about him, and about all that he had on every side, he had blessed all the works of his hands, and his substance increased every day. Indeed even with this security, riches to him that hath neither child or brother, as the wise man observes, instead of a comfort prove sometimes a fore travel and vexation. — The mind of man is not always satisfied with the reasonable assurance of its own enjoyments, but will look forwards, and if it discovers some imaginary void, the want of some beloved object; to fill his place after him, will often disquiet itself in vain, and say —
“For whom do I labour, and bereave myself of rest?”
This bar to his happiness God had likewise taken away, in blessing him with a numerous offspring of sons and daughters, the apparent inheriters of all his present happiness. — Pleasing reflection! to think the blessings God has indulged one’s self in, shall be handed and continued down to a man’s own seed; how little does this differ from a second enjoyment of them, to an affectionate parent, who naturally looks forwards with as strong an interest upon his children, as if he was to live over again in his own posterity.
What could be wanting to finish such a picture of a happy man? — Surely nothing, except a virtuous disposition to give a relish to these blessings, and direct him to make a proper use of them. — He had that too, for — he was a perfect and upright man, one that feared God and eschewed evil.
In the midst of all this prosperity, which was as great as could well fall to the share of one man; — whilst all the world looked gay, and smiled upon him, and every thing round him seemed to promise, if possible, an increase of happiness, in one instant all is changed into sorrow and utter despair. —
It pleases God for wise purposes to blast the fortunes of his house, and cut off the hopes of his posterity, and in one mournful day, to bring this great prince from his palace down to the dunghill. His flocks and herds, in which consisted the abundance of his wealth, were part consumed by a fire from heaven, the remainder taken away by the sword of the enemy: his sons and daughters, whom ’tis natural to imagine so good a man had so brought up in a sense of their duty, as to give him all reasonable hopes of much joy and pleasure in their future lives; — natural prospect for a parent to look forwards at, to recompense him for the many cares and anxieties which their infancy had cos
t him; these dear pledges of his future happiness were all, all snatched from him at one blow, just at the time that one might imagine they were beginning to be the comfort and delight of his old age, which most wanted such staves to lean on; — and as circumstances add to an evil, so they did to this; — for it fell out not only by a very calamitous accident, which was grievous enough in itself, but likewise upon the back of his other misfortunes, when he was ill prepared to bear such a shock; and what would still add to it, it happened at an hour when he had least reason to expect it, when he would naturally think his children secure and out of the way of danger.
“For whilst they were feasting and making merry in their eldest brother’s house, a great wind out of the wilderness smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon them.”
Such a concurrence of misfortunes are not the common lot of many: and yet there are instances of some who have undergone as severe trials, and bravely struggled under them; perhaps by natural force of spirits, the advantages of health, and the cordial assistance of a friend. And with these helps, what may not a man sustain? — But this was not Job’s case; for scarce had these evils fallen upon him, when he was not only borne down with a grievous distemper which afflicted him from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, but likewise his three friends, in whose kind consolations he might have found a medicine, — even the wife of his bosom, whose duty it was with a gentle hand to have softened all his sorrows, instead of doing this, they cruelly insulted and became the reproachers of his integrity. O God! what is man when thou thus bruisest him, and makest his burthen heavier as his strength grows less? — Who, that had found himself thus an example of the many changes and chances of this mortal life; — when he considered himself now stripped and left destitute of so many valuable blessings which the moment before thy providence had poured upon his head; — when he reflected upon this gay delightsome structure, in appearance so strongly built, so pleasingly surrounded with every thing that could flatter his hopes and wishes, and beheld it all levelled with the ground in one moment, and the whole prospect vanish with it like the description of an enchantment; — who I say that had seen and felt the shock of so sudden a revolution, would not have been furnished with just and beautiful reflections upon the occasion, and said with Job in the words of the text,
Complete Works of Laurence Sterne Page 84
