The Change in Men's Inclinations, Opinions, and Actions
Of the change in metis inclinations opinions and actiansy which one year shams $ ham observable it is in others ham much more discernible in our sdves. Honour and reputation ham un certainly preserved and ham easily blasted
What a discovery doth one year make of the’ mutability of man» not only of his outward condition but of the man himself; his temper his practice his inclinations, his aversions, &c. He abideth not at one stay; every breath of wind turns him to another shape* We deapise to*day that which we admired yesterday; and to-morrow hate the object of our present love. We begin friendships and cancel them on slight occasions; and a mortal enmity often succeeds to a tender affection: the very persons who are, in one year, our darling friends, and possibly deserved to be so, may yet be open enemies the next, and seek our ruin. Lord, what is man P’ How deceitful and mutable the heart of man! we know not what other men are, or will prove to be, till a trial; and we are ecjually ignorant concerning ourselves till an hour of temptation. How patiently do we think we could bear afiSlictions till we feel them! how partial and erroneous a judgment do we make of our wisdom and strength, in reference to the future! we counsel others to submission and resignation in the most difficult trials, and wonder they complain so loud; when we ourselves despond and siuk under half their burthen; and send up our more impatient murmurs to heaven when God thinks fit to prove us by a lighter stroke. We censure and condemn others who are in a higher station, and are called to more difficult work than we; when, by a little advancement, and the like temptations, we discover that we are as bad as they. They, who were reputed humble, temperate, and religious, when they have been exalted higher, become proud, sensual, and ungodly. Had some been told a twelvemonth since what now they are, and speak, and act, they would have made Hazael’s answer, Am I dog, that I should do this?” A change of the public affairs of the state, and by that means of particular interests, or some alteration of our own private circumstances, (calling us to new duties, and exposing us to new temptations,) discovers us more to ourselves, and to’ other men, than was expected, and proves us to be very different from what we appeared to be.
Such a change, for instance, as from poverty to riches; from sickness to health; from obscurity to honour; from privacy to a public charge, &c. or the contrary. Men cannot bear the weight of temporal happiness, but riches and honours make us to be other men than before we seemed to be. How weak a thing is man! that cannot carry his own wishes without fdling under them; that cannot prosper in his designs without being changed, in the temper of his mind, upon every success. So true is it that Man in honour is like the beast that perisheth;” and changed ordinarily for the worse, as to serious religion. May we not fear, that some, who, a year since, dared not live a day in the neglesct of closet and family devotion, do now omit it for many days and weeks together? and that some, who once were careful to improve the whole Sabbath to religious purposes, now place the whole of their relion in attending the public worship, and think it enough, not for that day only, but for the whole week. Under the afflicting hand of God, or some apprehensions of an approaching change, or sense of guilt upon great transgressions, the convictions of sin are lively, conscience is sensible and awake, affections warm, resolutions strong, &c. But, alas I how soon doth the case alter! our spirits cool, our zeal abates, our good purposes untwist and die, and come to nothing. By degrees we return to folly, and boldly venture on that sin we lately trembled at; through the want of continued smart afflictions, or of a serious awakening ministry, and friendly admonition; or through the temptations of vaia company, and the remaining power of fleshly lusts: so that we falsify our most sacred promises and resolutions, violate our holy vows, cancel the bonds of God upon us, suffer the devil to re-enter and prevail agiun, to take possession of our hearts, and yield ourselves an easy prey to his temptations, till our latter end be worse than our beginning.
Oh! what a change doth one year let us see in persons as well as things I in ourselves as well as other men! And, as it is with man himself, so with every thing that he values himself upon, or for which he is esteemed by others; and even hb esteem and reputation are also changeable and uncertain. Not to instance in riches, but in what is nobler, learning, and the improvements of the mvudV^^ %.3A^
M.A.
how soon may thd violence of a disease disturb or stapify the brain, to that degree, as shall reduce th6 greatest scholar to the pitied condition of a fool or bedlamite? and where is his reputation and renownf in such a case? But much les than that will blaat the fairest reputation with the far greatest part of th world: it may be lost by unwary mistakes, by false reports, by envy and malice, by the subtle hatred of enemies, or by the weakness and credulity of friends, (who will listen to every backbiter’s story,) or by one or two indiscretions of the man himself; and na man can be certain to secure his reputation whilst Jie lives, much less after he is dead. Who can content all men, however he lives? And who is well spoken of by all when he is dead? Who is so esteemed that some do not despise him? The wisest conduct cannot hinder but some will judge hardly and amiss.
How vain and faulty is an ambition to be talked of after we are dead, which will be but by very few and that very differently, and but for a little while. ‘* There is no remembrance of former thingSy neither shall there be of things to come, with those that shall come after.” For how little a while de the proudest monuments last, that are set over the rotten flesh and bones of many, to preserve their memory? God hath promised, it is true, that the righteous shall be had in everlasting remembrance ;*’ but it must be understood so far only as the frame and state of this world, and the revolutions and vicissitudes of time will permit. But what good can it do us farther than the interest of God’s glory, and the good of others is concerned in h? The blessed will not need it, and the damned have no idvantage by it. And no endeavours can be certain of success: for people will talk of us as they please; and their opinions very often change from me extreme to the other. But he who hath the loudest famoi shall only be talked of a little longer than hb neighbours; and that by a few dying men, that must themselves be ere long forgotten. And how small a part of the inhabited world is acquainted so much as with the name of the greatest men in Europe! And how different and contrary are men’s opinions and discourses of them, where they are known and talked of! And how many holy excellent persons are buried in oblivion, or misrepresented as unworthy to live on earth, whose names will be found in the book of life! Our life is yet as mutable and uncertain as any of theirs. The time is hastening when we shall be too old to live, hut at that time we are old enough to die. Our breath is in our nostrils; and though there be room enough for it to go out, we have no assurance that we shalL have power to draw it in again.