William Law · 14 of 18

Chapters · Chapter XI · Part 2

Farther; She that is for going only to the playhouse now and then with this care and discretion, does not seem to have enough considered the matter, or to act by reason; for if the stage be an innocent and proper entertainment; if, in its own nature, it be as harmless and useful as walking, riding, taking the air, or conversing with virtuous people; if this be the nature of it, then there is no need of this care and abstinence; a virtuous lady need not excuse herself that she goes but very seldom. But if it be the very reverse of all this; if it be that fountain of corruption and debauchery which has been observed; then to go to it at any time admits of no excuse, but is as absurd, as contrary to reason and religion, as to do any other ill thing with the same care and discretion. If you should hear a person excusing her use of paint in this manner;—That truly she painted but very seldom; that she always said her prayers first; that she never used it on Sundays, or the week before the communion; would you not pity such a mixture of religion and weakness? Would you not desire her to use her reason, and either allow painting to be an innocent ornament, suitable to the sobriety and humility of a Christian, or else to think it as unlawful at one time as another? Would you not think it strange that she should condemn painting as odious and sinful; and yet think that the regularity of her life, the exactness of her devotions, and her observance of religion might make it lawful for her to paint now and then? I do not doubt but you plainly see the weakness and folly of such a pretence for painting, under such rules at certain times. And if you would but as impartially consider your pretences for going sometimes to the play-house, you would certainly find them equally weak and unreasonable: for painting may, with more reason, be reckoned an innocent ornament, than the play-house an innocent diversion; and it supposes a greater vanity of mind, a more perverted judgment, and a deeper corruption of heart, to seek the diversions of the stage, than to take the pleasure of a borrowed colour.

I know you are offended at this comparison, because you judge by your temper and prejudices, and do not consider the things as they are in themselves by the pure light of reason and religion. Painting has not been the way of your family; it is supposed to be the practice but of very few; and those who use it endeavour to conceal it; this makes you readily condemn it: on the contrary, your mother and your aunt carry you to a play; you see virtuous people there, and the same persons that fill our churches; so that your temper is as much engaged to think it lawful to go sometimes to a play, as it is engaged to think the use of paint odious and sinful. Lay aside therefore these prejudices for awhile; fancy that you had been trained up in some corner of the world in the principles of Christianity, and had never heard either of the play-house or painting; imagine now that you was to examine the lawfulness of them by the doctrines of Scripture; you would first desire to be told the nature of these things, and what they meant. They would tell you, that painting was the borrowing of colours from art, to make the face look more beautiful. Now though you found no express text of Scripture against painting, you will find that it was expressly against tempers required in Scripture; you would, therefore, condemn it, as proceeding from a vanity of mind, a fondness of beauty; you would see that the harm of painting consisted in this, that it proceeded from a temper of mind, contrary to the sobriety and humility of a Christian, which indeed is harm enough, because this humility and sobriety of mind is as essential to religion as charity and devotion. So that in judging according to Scripture, you would hold it as unreasonable to paint sometimes, as to be sometimes malicious, indevout, proud, or false.

You are now to consider the stage; you are to keep close to Scripture, and fancy that you yet know nothing of plays. You ask therefore first, what the stage or play-house is? You are told, that it is a place where all sorts of people meet, to be entertained with discourses, actions, and representations, which are recommended to the heart by beautiful scenes, the splendor of lights, and the harmony of music. You are told, that these discourses are the inventions of men of wit and imagination, which describe imaginary intrigues and scenes of love, and introduce men and women discoursing, raving, and acting in all the wild indecent transports of lust and passion. You are told, that the diversion partly consists of lewd and profane songs; sung to fine music, and partly of extravagant dialogues between immodest persons, talking in a style of love and madness, that it is nowhere else to be found, and entertaining the Christian audience with all the violence of passion, corruption of heart, wantonness of mind, immodesty of thought, and profane jests, that the wit of the poet is able to invent. You are told, that the players, men and women, are trained up to act and represent all the descriptions of lust and passion in the liveliest manner, to add a lewdness of action to lewd speeches; that they get their livelihood by cursing, swearing, and ranting for three hours together to an assembly of Christians.

Now though you find no particular text of Scripture condemning the stage, or tragedy, or comedy, in express words; yet what is much more you find that such entertainments are a gross contradiction to the whole nature of religion. They are not contrary to this or that particular temper; but are contrary to that whole turn of heart and mind which religion requires. Painting is contrary to humility, and therefore is always to be avoided as sinful. But the entertainment of the stage, as it consists of blasphemous expressions, wicked speeches, swearing, cursing; and profaning the name of God; it abounds with impious rant, filthy jests, distracted passions, gross descriptions of lust, and wanton songs, is a contradiction of every doctrine that our Saviour and his apostles have taught us. So that to abhor painting at all times, because it supposes a vanity of mind, and is contrary to humility, and yet think there is a lawful time to go to the play-house, is as contrary to common sense, as if a man should hold that it was lawful sometimes to offend against all the doctrines of religion, and yet always unlawful to offend against any one doctrine of religion.

If therefore you was to come, as I supposed, from some corner of the world, where you had been used to live and judge by the rules of religion, and upon your arrival here, had been told what painting and the stage was; as you would not expect to see persons of religious humility carrying their daughters to paint-shops, or inviting their pious friends to go along with them; so much less would you expect to hear, that devout, pious, and modest women carried their daughters, and invited their virtuous friends to meet them at the play. Least of all could you imagine, that there were any people too pious and devout to indulge the vanity of painting; and yet not devout, or pious enough, to abhor the immodesty, profaneness, ribaldry, immorality, and blasphemy of the stage.

To proceed: A polite writer of a late paper, thought he had sufficiently ridiculed a certain lady's pretensions to piety; when speaking of her closet, he says (Spectator, No. 79):

Together lie her prayer-book and paint, At once t' improve the sinner and the saint.

Now whence comes it, that this writer judges so rightly, and speaks the truth so plainly in the matter of painting? Whence comes it, that the generality of his readers think his observation just, and join with him in it? It is because painting is not yet an acknowledged practice, but is, for the most part, reckoned a shameful instance of vanity. Now as we are not prejudiced in favour of this practice, and have no excuses to make for our own share in it; so we judge of it impartially, and immediately perceive its contrariety to a religious temper and state of mind. This writer saw this in so strong a light, that he does not scruple to suppose, that paint is as natural and proper a means to improve the sinner as the prayer-book is to improve the saint.

I should therefore hope, that it need not be imputed to any sourness of temper, religious weakness, or dulness of spirits, if a clergyman should imagine, that the profaneness, debauchery, lewdness, and blasphemy of the stage, is as natural a means to improve the sinner, as a bottle of paint; or if he should venture to show that the church and the play-house are as ridiculous a contradiction, and do no more suit with the same person, than the prayer-book and paint.

Again; suppose you were told that the holy angels delight in the repentance and devotion of Christians; that they attend at God’s altar, and rejoice in the prayers and praises which are there offered unto God: I imagine you could easily believe it, you could think it very agreeable to the nature of such good beings, to see fallen spirits returning unto God. Suppose you were told also, that these same heavenly beings delighted to be with men in their drunkenness, revellings, and debaucheries, and were as much pleased with their vices and corruptions, as with their devotions, you would know that both these accounts could not possibly be true; you could no more doubt in your mind whether good angels that delight in the conversion and devotion of Christians, do also delight in their vices and follies, than you can doubt whether the same person can be alive and dead at the same time. You would be sure, that in proportion as they delight in the piety and holiness of men, they must necessarily, in the same degree, abhor and dislike their vices and corruptions. So that supposing the matter of our church-service, the excellency of its devotions; its heavenly petitions, its lofty hymns, its solemn praises of the most high God, be such a glorious service as invites and procures the attendance of that blessed choir; if this be true, I suppose you are as certain as you can be of the plainest truth, that the filthiness, the rant, ribaldry, profaneness, and impiety of the stage, must be the hatred and aversion of those good spirits. You are sure, that it is as impossible for them to behold the stage with pleasure, as to look upon the holy altar with abhorrence.

Consider awhile on this matter, and think how it can be lawful for you to go to a place, where if a good angel was to look with pleasure, it would cease to be good? For as that which makes angels good, is the same right temper which makes you good; so the same tempers which would render angels evil, must also render you evil. You may, perhaps tell...me, that you are not an angel. I grant it, neither are you Jesus Christ, neither are you God; yet you are called to be holy, as Jesus Christ was holy; and to be perfect, as your Father which is in heaven is perfect. Though you are not an angel, yet it is part of your glorious hope, that you shall be as the angels of God; so that as you are capable of their happiness, you must think yourself obliged to be as like them in your temper, as the infirmity of your present state will permit. If angels are to rejoice in singing the praises of God; though their joy may exceed yours; yet you are as much obliged to your degree of joy in this duty as they are. Angels, by the light and strength of their nature, may abhor all manner of sin with stronger aversion, a higher degree of abhorrence: yet you are as much obliged to abhor all manner of sin, as they are. So that it is no more lawful for you to delight in impure, profane diversions, which good angels abhor, than it is lawful for you to hate those praises and adorations which are their delight.

You are to consider also, that these contradictory tempers, are no more possible in the same men, than in the same angels; it is no more possible for your heart truly to delight in the service of the church, to be in earnest in all its devotions, and at the same time delight in the entertainment of the stage, than it is possible for an angel to delight in them both.

You may fancy that you relish these entertainments, and at the same time relish and delight in the service of God, and are very hearty in your devotions; you may fancy this as cruel men may fancy themselves to be merciful, the covetous and proud may fancy themselves to be humble and heavenly-minded; but then take notice, that it is all but mere fancy; for it is as impossible to be really devout with your reason and understanding, and at the same time delight in the entertainment of the stage; as it is impossible to be really charitable, and delighting in malice at the same time. There is indeed a falseness in our heart, a mechanism in our constitution, which will deceive those, who do not constantly suspect themselves. There are forms of devotion, little rules of religion, which are fixed in us by education, which we can no more part with, than we can part with any other customs which we have long used. Now this makes many people think themselves mighty pious, because they find it is not in their nature to forbear or neglect such and such forms of piety; they fancy that religion must have its seat in their heart, because their heart is so unalterable in certain rules of religion. Thus a person that is exact in his times of prayer, will perhaps think himself much injured, if you was to tell him that it is his want of piety that makes him relish the diversion of the stage; his heart immediately justifies him against such an accusation, and tells him how constant he is in his devotions; whereas it is very possible, that he may have but little more piety than what consists in some rules and forms, and that his constancy to such rules may be owing to the same cause, which makes others constantly sleepy at such an hour, that is, the mere mechanism of his constitution, and the force of custom. This is the state of numbers of people, otherwise it would not be so common, to see the same people, constant and unalterable in some rules of religion, and as constant and unalterable in pride, passion and vanity.

Again; there are many other instances of a false piety: some people feel themselves capable of religious fervours, they have their passions frequently affected with religious subjects, who, from thence imagine, that their hearts are in a true state of religion. But such a conclusion is very deceitful. For the mere mechanism and natural temper of our bodies and our present condition, may be the chief foundation of all this. Thus a lady may find herself, as she thinks, warm in her devotions, and praise God at church with a sense of joy; she thinks she is very good, because she finds herself thus affected and pleased with the service of the church; whereas, it may be the very reason why she is more than ordinarily devout, and thinks it a pleasure to praise God, is because she is going to a ball, or a play, as soon as divine service is over. This agreeable expectation has so put her spirits in order, that she can be very thankful to God all the time she is at church.

Another has been pleased with the compliments paid to her person, she finds herself very finely dressed, she is full of joy under such thoughts, and so can easily break out into fervours of devotion, and rejoice in God at a time when she can rejoice in any thing. These frequent starts of devotion make her think herself to be far advanced in piety, and she does not perceive, that the height of her devotion is owing to the height of her vanity. Let her but be less pleased with herself, let her be unregarded, undressed, without such pleasing reflections, and she will find herself sunk into a strange dulness towards devotion.

The same temper is very frequent in common life; you meet a person who is very fond of you, full of affection, and pleased with every thing you say or do: you must not imagine that he has more friendship for you, than when he saw you last, and hardly took any notice of you: the matter is only this, the man is in a state of joy at something or other; he is pleased with himself, and so is easily pleased with you; stay but till this flow of spirit is gone off, and he will show you no more affection than he used to do. This is the religion of numbers of people; they are devout by fits and starts, in the same manner as they are pleased by fits and starts, and their devotion at those very times is no more a sign of true piety, than the civility and compliments of a person over-joyed, are signs of true friendship. But sti these little flashes of devotion, make people think themselves in a state of religion.

Take another instance of a false piety of another kind; Junius has been orthodox in his faith, a lover of churchmen, a hater of heretics these several years; he is the first that is sorry for a dangerous book that is come out, he is amazed what people would be at by such writings, but thanks God there is learning enough in the world to confute them. He reads all the confutations of atheists, deists, and heretics; there is only one sort of books, for which Junius has no taste, and that is, books of devotion. He freely owns, that they are not for his taste, he does not understand their flights.

If another person was to say so much, it would be imputed to his want of piety; but because Junius is known to be an enemy to irreligion, because he is constantly at church, you suppose him to be a pious man, though he thus confesses that he wants the spirit of piety. It is in the same manner, that Junius deceives himself, his heart permits him to neglect books of devotion, because his heart is constantly showing him his zeal for religion, and honour for the church; this makes him no more suspect himself to want any degrees of piety, than he suspects himself to be a favourer of heresy. If he never thinks any ill of himself; if he never suspects any falseness in his own heart; if he is prejudiced in favour of all his own ways, it is because he is prejudiced in favour of all orthodox men. Junius reads much controversy, yet he does not take it ill, that you pretend to inform him in matters of controversy; on the contrary, he never reads books of devotion, yet is angry if you pretend to correct him in matters of that kind. You may suppose him mistaken in something that he is always studying, and he will be thankful to you for setting him right; but if you suppose him mistaken in things that he never applies himself to, if you suppose that any body knows what humility, heavenly-mindedness, devotion, self-denial, mortification, repentance, charity, or the love of God is, better than he, you provoke his temper, and he will not suffer himself to be informed by you. Great numbers of people are like Junius in this respect, they think they are very religious by listening to instructions upon certain points, by reading certain books, and being ready to receive farther light, who yet cannot bear to be instructed in matters, where they are most likely to be deceived, and where the deceit is of the utmost danger. They will be thankful for your telling them the particular times in which the Gospels were written, for explaining the word euroclydon, or anathema maranatha; they will be glad of such useful instruction, but if you touch upon such subjects as really concern them in a high degree, such as try the state and way of their lives, these religious people, who are so fond of religious truths, cannot bear to be thus instructed.

What is the reason, that when we consult lawyers, it is not to hear harangues upon the law, or its several courts, it is not to hear the variety of cases that concern other people, but it is to be instructed and assisted in our own case? Why do we thank them for dealing impartially with us, for searching and examining into the true state of our case, and informing us of every thing that concerns us? What is the reason that we apply to physicians, not to hear the rise and progress of physic, or the history of disputes amongst them, not to hear of other people's distempers; but to tell them our own particular state, and learn the cure of our own distempers? Why do we thank them for being nicely exact in searching us out, for examining into every part of our lives, our ways of eating, drinking, and sleeping, and not suffering us to deceive ourselves with wrong opinions and practices? What is the reason why we act thus consistently, and in the same manner, in both these instances? Now the only reason is this, because in both these instances we are really in earnest. When you are in earnest in your religion, you will act as consistently, and in the same manner there. When you desire solid piety, as you desire sound health, your chief concern will be about your own disorders; you will thank divines and casuists for making you their chief care; you will be glad to have them examine and search into your ways of life, to be rightly informed of the follies, vanities, and dangers of your state; you will be glad to read those books, and consult those casuists, which are most exact and faithful in discovering your faults, who question and examine all your ways, who discover to you your secret corruptions, and unsuspected follies, and who are best able to give you the surest rules of arriving at Christian perfection.

When you are in earnest in your religion, you will as certainly act in this manner, as you act in the same manner with the lawyer or physician. Take this also for an undeniable truth, that till you do act in this manner, you are not in earnest in your religion.

This therefore is a good rule to examine yourself by. Do you find that you act in religion, as you do in other cases, where you are in earnest? Are you as suspicious of yourself, as fearful of mistake, as watchful of danger, as glad of assistance, as desirous of success, as in other matters, where your life or fortune are at stake, or where your heart is engaged?

Never imagine that your religion is founded in a true fear of God, and a hearty desire of salvation, till you find yourself acting as you do in other matters, where your fears are great, and your desires hearty.

If you had rather read books that entertain the mind, than correct the heart; if you had rather hear a casuist examine other people's lives than your's; if you had rather hear him talk of the excellency and wisdom of religion, than be exact in trying the excellency and wisdom of your way of life, you must take it for granted, that you are not in earnest in the reformation of your life, and that there are some tempers in you more strong and powerful, that more rule and govern you than the fear of God, and a desire of salvation. To return now to my subject.

I had observed, that people who are religious upon a true principle, who are devout with their reason and understanding, cannot possibly either relish or allow the entertainment of the stage. I observed, that these contradictory tempers, a delight in the offices and divine service of the church, and a delight in the entertainments of the stage, are no more possible to be in the same good men, than in the same good angels. This made it necessary for me to step a little aside from my subject, to consider some false appearances of religion, which are chiefly founded in natural temper, custom, education, and the way of the world; which yet so far deceive people, as to make them fancy themselves in a good state of religion, while they live and act by another spirit and temper.

Now, I readily own, a man may come up to those appearances of religion, he may carry on a course of such piety as this, and yet relish the diversion of the stage. It is no contradiction for a man to like to say his prayers, to be often delighted with the service of the church, to hear sermons, to read divinity, to detest heretics, and yet find a constant pleasure in the vain entertainments of the stage. The world abounds with instances of people who swear, drink, and debauch, with all these appearances of religion. Now as we are sure, that where we see these vices, those persons have only an appearance of religion, which is founded in something else, than a true fear of God; so wherever we see sober and regular people, lovers of the church, and friends to religion, taking the pleasure of the stage, we may be sure, that their religion is defective, and founded in something that is weak, and false, and blind, that permits them to act so inconsistently. For the reasoning is full as strong in one case as in the other. Now although I would not have people to be solely guided by what they feel, or think they feel in their own minds; yet this we may depend upon, as certain in our tempers, that we never love or affect any thing truly, but we hate and avoid all that is contrary to it in an equal degree. So that we may be assured, that all that love, or zeal, or affection that we pretend for any thing, is but mere pretence and a blind motion, unless it appears by a zealous, lively abhorrence of every thing that is contrary to it.

Upon this ground I again affirm, that it is impossible for truly religious people to bear the entertainment of the stage. For consider only the matter in this short view. A truly religious person is to love, and fear, and adore God, with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength. Now I ask you, who it is that has this true love of God? Is it he that delights in profaneness at all times? Or is it he that can bear with profaneness some times? Or is it he that abhors and avoids it at all times and in all places? Which of these three hath a right to be esteemed a true lover of God? Now he that goeth to a play at any time, though he may say that he does not delight in profaneness, yet he must own that he can sometimes, and in some places, bear with profaneness. For profaneness of some kind or other, is in most of our plays, almost as common as the name of God in Scripture. But I will suppose it were only now and then, and that no profaneness, either of thought or expression, happened above twice or thrice in an entertainment; yet this is profaneness, and he that can bear with so much, that can seek the entertainment as a pleasure, must acknowledge, that though he does not delight in profaneness as such, yet he can bear with profaneness for the sake of other delight. Now ask yourself—Has not he a truer love of God, whose piety will not suffer him to bear with profaneness at any time, or in any place, or for any pleasure? And not therefore supported by plain reason and common sense, when I affirm, that it is for want of true piety, that any people are able to bear the entertainment of the stage?

You see also, that no higher degree of piety is required, to fill one with a constant abhorrence of the stage, than such a piety as implies an abhorrence of profaneness at all times, and in all places.

When you are thus pious, when you thus love God, you will have a piety, a love of God that will not suffer you to be at an entertainment that has any mixture of profaneness. Now as there must be this manifest defect in true piety, before you can bear with the profaneness of the stage; so if you consider every other part of the character of a truly religious man, you will find, that there must be the same defect run through the whole of it, before he can be fit for such diversion.