Chapter XI: A farther Consideration of that Purity and Holiness of Conversation, to
A farther Consideration of that Purity and Holiness of Conversation, to which the Necessity of divine Grace calleth all Christians: wherein is shown, that the Entertainment of the Stage is a corrupt and sinful Entertainment, contrary to the whole Nature of Christian Piety, and constantly to be avoided by all sincere Christians.
I have shown in the foregoing chapter, that the reading of plays, or any other books of that kind, is a dangerous and sinful entertainment, that corrupts our hearts, and separates the Holy Spirit from us. You will now, perhaps, ask me, if it is unlawful for a Christian to go to the play-house; I answer, that it is absolutely unlawful. As unlawful as for a Christian to be a drunkard, or a glutton, or to curse and swear. This, I think, after what has been above observed, will be easily proved.
For let us resume the doctrine of the apostle; we are absolutely forbid all corrupt communication, and for this important reason, because it grieves and separates the Holy Spirit from us. It is unlawful, therefore, to have any corrupt communication of our own? And can we think it lawful to go to places set apart for that purpose? To give our money, and hire persons to corrupt our hearts with ill discourses, and inflame all the disorderly passions of our nature? We have the authority of Scripture to affirm, that evil communication corrupts good manners, and that unedifying discourses grieve the Holy Spirit. Now the third commandment is not more plain and express against swearing, than this doctrine is plain and positive against going to the play-house. If you should see a person that acknowledges the third commandment to be a divine prohibition against swearing, yet going to a house, and giving his money to persons, who were there met, to curse and swear in fine language, and invent musical oaths and imprecations, would you not think him mad in the highest degree? Now consider, whether there be a less degree of madness in going to the play-house. You own that God has called you to a great purity of conversation, that you are forbid all foolish discourse, and filthy jestings, as expressly as you are forbid swearing; that you are to let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but such as is good for the use of edifying; and yet you go to the house set apart for corrupt communications; you hire persons to entertain you with all manner of ribaldry, profaneness, rant, and impurity of discourse; who are to present you with vile thoughts and lewd imaginations in fine language, and to make wicked, vain, and impure discourse more lively and affecting than you could possibly have it in any ill company. Now is not this sinning with as high a hand, and as grossly offending against the plain doctrines of Scripture, as if you was to give your money to be entertained with musical oaths and curses? You might reasonably think that woman very ridiculous in her piety that durst not swear herself, but should, nevertheless, frequent places to hear oaths. But you may as justly think her very ridiculous in her modesty, who, though she dare not say, or look, or do an immodest thing herself, shall yet give her money to see women forget the modesty of their sex, and talk imprudently in a public play-house. If the play-house was filled with rakes and ill women, there would be nothing to be wondered at in such an assembly; for such persons to be delighted with such entertainments, is as natural as for any animal to delight in its proper element. But for persons who profess purity and holiness, who would not be suspected of immodesty, or corrupt communication, for them to come under the roof of a house devoted to such ill purposes, and be pleased spectators of such actions and discourses, as are the pleasure of the most abandoned persons, for them to give their money to be thus entertained, is such a contradiction to all piety and common sense as cannot be sufficiently exposed.
Again; When you see the players acting with life and spirit, men and women equally bold in all instances of profaneness, passion, and immodesty, I dare say you never suspect any of them to be persons of Christian piety. You cannot, even in your imagination, join piety to such manners, and such a way of life. Your mind will no more allow you to join piety with the behaviour of the stage, than it...will allow you to think two and two to be ten. And perhaps you had rather see your son chained to a galley, or your daughter driving a plow, than getting their bread on the stage, by administering in so scandalous a manner to the vices and corrupt pleasures of the world.
Let this therefore be another argument to prove the absolute unlawfulness of going to the play. For consider with yourself; is the business of players so contrary to piety, so inconsistent with the spirit and temper of a true Christian, that it is next to a contradiction to suppose them united? How then can you take yourself to be innocent, who delight in their sins, and hire them to commit them? You may make yourself a partaker of other men's sins, by negligence, and for want of reproving them; but certainly if you stand by, and assist men in their evil actions, if you make their vices your pleasure and entertainment, and pay your money to be so entertained, you make yourself a partaker of their sins in a very high degree. And, consequently, it must be as unlawful to go to a play as it is unlawful to approve, encourage, assist, and reward a man for renouncing a Christian life.
Let therefore every man or woman that goes to a play ask themselves this question, Whether it suits with their religion to act the parts that are there acted? Perhaps they would think this as inconsistent with that degree of piety that they profess, as to do the vilest things. But let them consider, that it must be a wicked and unlawful pleasure to delight in any thing that they dare not do themselves. Let them also consider, that they are really acting those indecencies and impieties themselves, which they think is the particular guilt of the players. For a person may very justly be said to do that himself which he pays for the doing, and which is done for his pleasure. You must therefore, if you would be consistent with yourself, as much abhor the thoughts of being at a play, as of being a player yourself; for to think that you must forbear the one, and not the other, is as absurd, as to suppose, that you must be temperate yourself; but may assist, encourage, and reward other people for their intemperance. The business of a player is profane, wicked, lewd, and immodest; to be any way therefore approving, assisting, or encouraging him in such a way of life, is as evidently sinful, as it is sinful to assist and encourage a man in stealing, or any other wickedness.
To proceed: When I consider churches, and the matter of divine service, that it consists of holy readings, prayers, and exhortation to piety, there is reason to think, that the house of God is a natural means of promoting piety and religion, and rendering men devout and sensible of their duty to God. The very nature of divine assemblies thus carried on, has this direct tendency. I ask you, whether this is not very plain, that churches thus employed should have this effect?
Consider therefore the play-house, and the matter of the entertainment there, as it consists of love-intrigues, blasphemous passions, profane discourses, lewd descriptions, filthy jests, and all the most extravagant rant of wanton, vile, profligate persons of both sexes, heating and inflaming one another with all the wantonness of address, the immodesty of motion, and lewdness of thought, that wit can invent; consider, I say, whether it be not plain, that a house so employed, is as certainly serving the cause of immorality and vice, as the house of God is serving the cause of piety? For what is there in our church service, that shows it to be useful to piety and holiness; what is there in divine worship to correct and amend the heart, but what is directly contrary to all that is doing in the play-house? So that one may with the same assurance affirm, that the play-house, not only when some very profane play is on the stage, but in its daily, common entertainment, is as certainly the house of the devil, as the church is the house of God. For, though the devil be not professedly worshipped by hymns directed to him, yet most that is there sung is to his service; he is there obeyed and pleased in as certain a manner as God is worshipped and honoured in the church.
You must easily see, that this charge against the play-house, is not the effect of any particular temper, or weakness of mind; that it is not an uncertain conjecture, or religious whimsy, but is a judgment founded as plainly in the nature and reason of things, as when it is affirmed that the house of God is of service to religion. And he that absolutely condemns the play-house, as wicked and corrupting, proceeds upon as much truth and certainty, as he that absolutely commends the house of God, as holy, and tending to promote piety.
When therefore any one pretends to vindicate the stage to you, as a proper entertainment for holy and religious persons, you ought to reject the attempt with as much abhorrence, as if he should offer to show you, that our church-service was rightly formed for those persons to join in, who are devoted to the devil. For to talk of the lawfulness and usefulness of the stage, is fully as absurd, as contrary to the plain nature of things, as to talk of the unlawfulness and mischief of the service of the church. He therefore that tells you, that you may safely go to the play-house, as an innocent, useful entertainment of your mind, commits the same offence against common sense, as if he should tell you, that it was dangerous to attend at divine service, and that its prayers and hymns were great pollutions of the mind.
For the matter and manner of stage-entertainments, is as undeniable a proof, and as obvious to common sense, that the house belongs to the devil, and is the place of his honour, as the matter and manner of church-service proves that the place is appropriated to God.
Observe, therefore, that as you do not want the assistance of any one, to show you the usefulness and advantage of divine service, because the thing is plain, and speaks for itself: so neither, on the other hand, need you any one to show you the unlawfulness and mischief of the stage; because there the thing is equally plain, and speaks for itself; so that you are to consider yourself, as having the same assurance that the stage is wicked, and to be abhorred and avoided by all Christians, as you have that the service of the Church is holy, and to be sought after by all lovers of holiness. Consider, therefore, that your conduct with relation to the stage, is not a matter of nicety, or scrupulous exactness, but that you are as certain that you do wrong in as notorious a manner, when you go to the play-house, as you are certain that you do right when you go to church.
Now it is of mighty use to conceive things in a right manner, and to see them as they are in their own nature. While you consider the play-house as only a place of diversion, it may perhaps give no offence to your mind; there is nothing shocking in the thought of it; but if you would lay aside this name of it for a while, and consider it in its own nature as it really is, you would find that you are as much deceived, if you consider the play-house as only a place of diversion, as you would be, if you considered the house of God only as a place of labour.
When therefore you are tempted to go to a play, either from your own inclination, or the desire of a friend, fancy that you was asked in plain terms to go to the place of the devil's abode, where he holds his filthy court of evil spirits: that you was asked to join in an entertainment, where he was at the head of it, where the whole of it was in order to his glory, that men's hearts and minds might be separated from God, and plunged into all the pollutions of sin and brutality. Fancy that you are going to a place that as certainly belongs to the devil, as the heathen temples of old, where brutes were worshipped; where wanton hymns were sung to Venus; and drunken songs to the god of wine. Fancy that you was as certainly going to the devil's triumph, as if you was going to those old sports where people committed murder, and offered Christians to be devoured by wild beasts for the diversion of spectators. Now whilst you consider the playhouse in this view, I suppose that you can no more go to a play, than you can expressly renounce your Christianity.
Consider therefore now, that you have not been frightening yourself with groundless imaginations, but that what you have here fancied of the play-house, is as strictly true, as if you had been fancying, that when you go to church, you go into the house of God, where the heavenly host attend upon his service, and that when you there read the Scriptures, and sing holy hymns, you join with the choirs above, and do God's will on earth, as it is done in heaven. For observe, I pray you, how justly that opinion of the play-house is founded. For, was it a joy and delight to the devil to see idols worshipped, to see hymns and adorations offered up to impure and filthy deities? Were places and festivals, appointed for such ends, justly esteemed places and festivals devoted to the devil? Now give the reason why all this was justly reckoned a service to the devil, and you will give as good a reason why the play-house is to be esteemed his temple. For, what though hymns and adorations are not offered to impure and filthy deities, yet if impurity and filthiness is there the entertainment, if immodest songs, profane rant, if lust and passion entertain the audience, the business is the same, and the assembly does the same honour to the devil, though they are not gathered together in the name of some heathen god.
For impurity and profaneness in the worshippers of the true God, is as acceptable a service to the devil, as impurity and profaneness in any idolators; and perhaps a lewd song in an assembly of Christians gives him greater delight, than if it had been sung in a congregation of heathens.
If therefore we may justly say, that a house or festival was the devil's, because he was delighted with it, because what was there done was an acceptable service to him; we may be assured, that the play-house is as really the house of the devil, as any other house ever was. Nay, it is reasonable to think, that the play-houses in this kingdom are a greater pleasure to him, than any temple he ever had in the heathen world. For as it is a greater conquest to make the disciples of Christ delight in lewdness and profaneness, than ignorant heathens; so a house, that in the midst of Christian churches, trains up Christians in lewdness and profaneness, that makes the worshippers of Christ flock together in crowds, to rejoice in an entertainment that is contrary to the Spirit of Christ, as hell is contrary to heaven; a house so employed, may justly be reckoned a more delightful habitation of the devil, than any temple of the heathen world. When therefore you go to the play-house, you have as much assurance that you go to the devil's peculiar habitation, that you submit to his designs, and rejoice in his diversions, which are his best devices against Christianity, you have as much assurance of this, as that they who worshipped filthy deities, were in reality worshippers of the devil.
Again, consider those old sports and diversions where Christians were sometimes thrown to wild beasts; consider why such sports might well be looked upon as the devil's triumph: I suppose you are at no stand with yourself, whether you should impute such entertainments to the devil. Consider, therefore, why you should not as readily allow the stage to be his entertainment.
For was it a delight to the devil to see heathens sporting with the bodily death of Christians? And must it not be greater delight to him, to see Christians sporting themselves in the death of their souls?
The heathens could only kill the body, and separate it from the soul; but these Christian diversions murder the soul, and separate it from God. I dare say no arguments could convince you, that it was lawful to rejoice at those sports, which were thus defiled with human blood; but then pray remember that if the death of the soul be as great a cruelty as the death of the body; if it be as dreadful for a soul to be separated from God, as to be separated from the body; you ought to think it as entirely unlawful to enter that house where so many eternal lives are sacrificed, or ever to partake of those diversions, which separate such numbers of souls from God.
Hence it appears, that if, instead of considering the play-house as only a place of diversion, you will but examine what materials it is made of, if you will but consider the nature of the entertainment, and what is there doing, you will find it as wicked a place, as sinful a diversion, and as truly the peculiar pleasure and triumph of the devil, as any wicked place or sinful diversion in the heathen world. When therefore you are asked to go to a play, do not think that you are asked only to go to a diversion, but be assured that you are asked to yield to the devil, to go over to his party, and to make one of his congregation; that if you do go, you have not only the guilt of buying so much vain and corrupt communication, but are also as certainly guilty of going to the devil's house, and doing him the same honour, as if you was to partake of some heathen festival.
You must consider, that all the laughter there is ...not only vain and foolish, but that it is a laughter amongst devils, that you are upon profane ground; and hearing music in the very porch of hell.
Thus it is in the reason of the thing; and if we should now consider the state of our play-house, as it is in fact, we should find it answering all these characters, and producing effects suitable to its nature: but I shall forbear this consideration, it being as unnecessary to tell the reader, that our play-house is in fact the sink of corruption and debauchery; that it is the general rendezvous of the most profligate persons of both sexes; that it corrupts the air, and turns the adjacent places into public nuisances; this is as unnecessary as to tell him, that the Exchange is a place of merchandise.
Now it is to be observed, that this is not the state of the play-house, through any accidental abuse, as any innocent or good thing may be abused; but that corruption and debauchery are the truly natural and genuine effects of the stage-entertainment. Let not, therefore, any one say, that he is not answerable for those vices and debaucheries which are occasioned by the play-house; for so far as he partakes of the pleasure of the stage, and is an encourager of it, so far he is chargeable with those disorders which necessarily are occasioned by it.
If evil arises from our doing our duty, or our attendance at any good design, we are not to be frighted at it; but if evil arises from any thing, as its natural and genuine effect, in all such cases, so far as we contribute to the cause, so far we make ourselves guilty of the effects. So that all who any way assist the play-house, or ever encouraged it by their presence, make themselves chargeable, in some degree, with all the evils and vices which follow from it. Since therefore it cannot be doubted by any one, whether the play-house be a nursery of vice and debauchery, since the evil effects it has...upon people's manners is as visible as the sun at noon, one would imagine that all people of virtue and modesty should not only avoid it, but avoid it with the utmost abhorrence; that they should be so far from entering into it, that they should detest the very sight of it. For what a contradiction is it to common sense to hear a woman lamenting the miserable lewdness and debauchery of the age, the vicious taste, and irregular pleasures of the world, and at the same time dressing herself to meet the lewdest part of the world, at the fountain-head of all lewdness, and making herself one of that crowd where every abandoned wretch is glad to be present? She may fancy that she hates and abominates their vices; but she may depend upon it, that till she hates and abominates the place of vicious pleasures, till she dare not come near an entertainment which is the cause of so great debauchery, and the pleasure of the most debauched people; till she is thus disposed, she wants the truest sign of a real and religious abhorrence of the vices of the age.
For to wave all other considerations, I would only ask her a question or two on the single article of modesty. What is modesty? Is it a little mechanical outside behaviour, that goes no farther than a few forms and modes at particular times and places? Or is it a real temper, a rational disposition of the heart, that is founded in religion? Now if modesty is only a mechanical observance of a little outside behaviour, then I can easily perceive how a modest woman may frequent plays; there is no inconsistency for such a one to be one thing in one place, and another in another place; to disdain an immodest conversation, and yet, at the same time, relish and delight in immodest and impudent speeches in a public play-house. But if modesty is a real temper and disposition of the heart, that is founded in the principles of reli gion; then I confess I cannot comprehend how a person of such modesty should ever come twice into a play-house. For if it is reason and religion that has inspired her with a modest heart; that makes her hate and abhor every word or look, or hint, in conversation that has the appearance of lewdness; that makes her shun the company of such as talk with too much freedom; if she is thus modest in common life, from a principle of religion, a temper of heart; is it possible for such a one (I do not say to seek) but to bear with the immodesty and impudence of the stage? For must not immodesty and impudence, must not loose and wanton discourse be the same hateful things, and give the same offence to a modest mind in one place as in another?
And must not that place, which is the seat of immodesty, where men and women are trained up in lewdness; where almost every day in the year is a day devoted to the foolish representations of rant, lust, and passion; must not such a place of all others be the most odious to a mind that is truly modest upon principles of reason and religion? One would suppose that such a person should as much abominate the place as any other filthy sight; and be as much offended with an invitation to it, as if she was invited to see an immodest picture. For the representations of the stage, the inflamed passions of lovers there described, are as gross an offence to the ear as any representation that can offend the eye.
It ought not to be concluded, that because I affirm the play-house to be an entertainment contrary to modesty, that therefore I accuse all people as void of modesty who ever go to it. I might affirm, that transubstantiation is contrary to all sense and reason; but then it would be a wrong conclusion to say, that I affirmed, that all who believe it are void of all sense and reason. Now as prejudices, the force of education, the authority of numbers, the way of the world, the example of great names, may make people believe: so the same causes may make people act against all sense and reason, and be guilty of practices which no more suit with the purity of their religion, than transubstantiation agrees with common sense.
To proceed: I once heard a young lady thus excusing herself for going to the play-house; That she went but seldom, and then in company of her mother and her aunt: that they always knew their play beforehand, and never went on the sacrament week. And what harm, pray, says she, can there be in this? It breaks in upon no rules of my life; I neglect no part of my duty; I go to church, and perform the same devotions at home as on other days. It ought to be observed, that this excuse can only be allowed where the diversion itself is innocent; it must therefore be first considered what the entertainment is in itself, whether it be suitable to the spirit and temper of religion; for if it is right and proper in itself, it needs no excuse; but if it be wrong, and dangerous to religion, we are not to use it cautiously, but avoid it constantly.
Secondly; It is no proof of the innocence of a thing, that it does not interfere with our hours of duty, nor break the regularity of our lives; for very wicked ways of spending time may yet be consistent with a regular distribution of our hours. She must therefore consider, not only whether such a diversion hinders the regularity of her life, or breaks in upon her devotions, public or private; but whether it hinders, or any way affects, that spirit and temper which all her devotions aspire after. Is it conformable to that heavenly affection, that love of God, that purity of heart, that wisdom of mind, that perfection of holiness, that contempt of the world, that watchfulness and self-denial, that humility and fear of sin? Is it conformable to these graces, which are to be the daily subject of all her prayers? This is the only way for her to know the innocency of going to a play. If what she there hears and sees has no contrariety to any graces or virtues which she prays for; if all that there passes be fit for the purity and piety of one that is led by the Spirit of Christ, and is working out her salvation with fear and trembling; if the stage be an entertainment that may be thought according to the will of God, then she disposes of an hour very innocently, though her mother, or her aunt, were not with her. But if the contrary to all this be true; if most of what she there hears and sees be as contrary to the piety and purity of Christianity, as feasting is contrary to fasting; if the house which she supports by her money, and encourages by her presence, be a notorious means of corruption, visibly carrying on the cause of vice and debauchery; she must not think herself excused for being with her mother.
Thirdly; The same person would, perhaps, think it strange to hear one of her virtuous acquaintances giving the like excuse for going now and then to a masquerade.
Now this diversion is new in our country, and therefore people judge of it in a manner that they should, because they are not blinded by use and custom; but let any one give but the true reasons why a person of virtue and piety should not give into such entertainments, and the same reasons will show, that a person of a strict piety should keep at as great a distance from the playhouse. For the entertainment of the stage is as directly opposite to the purity of religion, and is as much the natural means of corruption, and serves all bad ends in as high a manner as masquerades; they only differ as bad things of the same kind may differ from one another. So that if the evil use, the ill consequence of masquerades, be a sufficient reason to deter peo ple of piety from partaking of them, the same evil use and ill consequence of the stage ought to keep all people of virtue from it. If people will consult their temper only, they may take the entertainment of one, and condemn the other as following the same guide; they may abhor intemperance, and indulge malice; but if they will consult religion, and make that the ground of their opinions, they would find as strong reasons for a constant abhorrence of the stage, as of masquerades.
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.
You tell me, that you love the church, and rejoice at the returns of divine service, though you now and then go to a play. Now consider what it is which these words mean. If you love and delight in the service of church, then you love to be in a state of devotion; you love to draw near to God, you love to be made sensible of the misery, guilt, and weight of sin; you love to abhor and deplore your iniquities, and to lament the misery and vanity of human life; you love to hear the instructions of divine wisdom, to raise your soul unto God, and sing his praises; you love to be on your knees praying against all the vanities and follies of life, and for all the gifts and graces of God's Holy Spirit.
Now all this is implied in the true love of church-service, for unless you love it for what it is, and because you feel its excellency, your love is only a blind mechanical motion; but if you love it in truth and reality, if you are thus affected with it because all its parts so highly suit the condition of human nature, whilst you are thus disposed, you can no more relish the wicked spirit and foolish temper of stage-entertainments, than sincere, dying penitents can delight in the guilt of their sins.
Never imagine, therefore, that you are sincerely affected with the confessions of the church, or that you are truly glad for the return of those hours, which humble you in the sight of God; never imagine that you truly feel the misery and weight of sin, or sincerely lament the corruption of your nature, whilst you dare go to the fountain-head of corruption, the place where sin reigns, and exercises its highest power.
Never imagine that you have the spirit of devotion, that your heart is renewed with the Holy Ghost; that it truly rejoices in the means of grace, and the hope of glory; never imagine that it is your joy and delight to worship God in the beauty of holiness, to send up your soul to him in prayers and praises, so long as the way of the stage, its impious nonsense, vile jests, profane passions, and lewd speeches, are not your utter abhorrence. For it is not more absurd to believe that a corrupt tree may bring forth good fruit, than to believe that a pious mind, truly devoted to God, should taste and relish the entertainment of the stage. For the taste and relish of the mind is a more certain sign of the state and nature of the mind, than the quality of fruit is a sign of the state and nature of trees.
Had the impure spirits, which asked our blessed Saviour to suffer them to enter into the herd of swine, said at the same time, that it was their only delight and joy to dwell in the light and splendour of God, no one could have believed them, any more than he could believe light and darkness to be the same thing.
When you have the Spirit of Christ, when you are devoted to God, when purity, holiness, and perfection is your real care, when you desire to live in the light of God's Holy Spirit, to act by his motions, to rise from grace to grace till you are finished in glory, it will be as impossible for you, whilst you continue so disposed, either to seek or bear the entertainment of the stage, as it is impossible for pure and holy spirits to ask to enter into a herd of swine. If you want the delight of so corrupt an entertainment, so contrary to the spirit and purity of religion, you ought no more to believe yourself, when you pretend to true piety and devotion, than you ought to have believed those impure spirits, if they had pretended to have been angels of light. For this is absolutely certain, and what you ought carefully to consider, that nothing ever gives us any pleasure, but what is suitable to the state and temper of mind that we are then in. So that if the corruption, the immorality, the profane spirit and wanton temper of the stage entertainment, can give you any pleasure, you are as sure that there is something like all these vices in your heart, as you can be of any thing that relates to a human mind.
Lastly, Ask yourself, when you think that you have a true love for divine service, whether he is not a truer lover of it, whose soul is so fashioned to it, so deeply affected with it, that he can delight in nothing that is contrary to it; who can bear with no entertainment that is made up of speeches, passions, harangues, and songs, so opposite to the wisdom, the discourses, instructions, and hymns of divine service. This, I believe, you cannot deny; and if this cannot be denied, then it must be owned as a certain truth, that he who can bear with the stage entertainment, has this farther defect, that he wants the true love of divine service.
Again; It is part of a truly religious man to love the Scriptures, and delight in reading them; you say this is your temper, though you go to plays. I answer, that it is for want of a true love and delight in the Scriptures, that you are able to relish plays.
You may perhaps so love the Scriptures, that you may think it your duty to read them, and desire to understand them. But when you once so love the Scriptures as to love to be like them, to desire that the spirit and temper of Scripture may be the one spirit and temper of your life: when, for instance, you love this doctrine, Strive to enter in at the strait gate. If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee. When you are of the same mind with this Scripture, Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. (1 Pet. v. 8.)
When you are intent upon this truth, For we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body. (2 Cor. v. 10.) When this text has taken possession of your heart, Seeing then that all these things must be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness? (2 Pet. v. 6.)
When you resign up your whole soul to this exhortation, Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart. (Matt. xi. 29.) When your heart can truly bear you witness to this doctrine, that you put on the whole armour of Christ, that you may be able to stand, that you live by faith, and not by sight, pressing after the prize of your high calling.
When you thus love and delight in the Scripture; when you thus enter into its spirit and temper; when its purity is your purity; its fears, and hopes, and joys, are your fears, and hopes, and joys; you will find yourself one of those who constantly, and at all times, abominate the folly, impertinence, and profaneness of the stage.
Let me desire you, when you are dressed for a play, to read over our Saviour's divine sermon on the Mount before you go; try whether your soul is full of the spirit that is there taught; examine whether you then feel in your heart such a love of the Scripture, as to love those conditions of blessedness that are there described, Blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are they that mourn, blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness. Do you find yourself in these heights of holiness? Is your soul reformed, purified, and exalted, according to these doctrines? Or can you imagine, that you are conforming yourself to those doctrines, that you depart from none of them, when you are preparing yourself for a pleasure, which is the proper pleasure of the most corrupt and debauched minds? Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Can you think that you are rightly affected with this doctrine, that you are labouring after this purity, that you are preparing to see God, when you are going to an entertainment, to which they ought only to go who have no thoughts of seeing God, nor any desires after that purity which prepares us for it?
Lastly; Another virtue essential to Christian holiness is chastity; our blessed Saviour has given us the measure of this virtue in these words: But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart. We are sure, therefore, that this virtue is not preserved, unless we keep ourselves clear from all immodest thoughts and impure imaginations; we are sure also, that the guilt of these is like the guilt of adultery. This is the doctrine of Christ. Look now into the play-house, and think whether any thing can be imagined more contrary to this doctrine.
For not to consider the monstrous lewdness and immodesty of the stage, take it in its best state, when some admired tragedy is upon it: are the extravagant passions of distracted lovers, the impure ravings of inflamed heroes, the tender com- plaints, the joys and torments of love, and gross descriptions of lust; are the indecent actions, the amorous transports, the wanton address of the actors, which makes so great a part of the most sober and modest tragedies--are these things an entertainment consistent with this Christian doctrine? You may as well imagine, that murder and rapine are consistent with charity and meekness. I hope it will not now be said, that I have spent too much time upon this subject, that seems not necessary in this treatise upon Christian perfection. For though these things are generally looked upon as little, because they are called pleasures and diversions; yet they may as justly be called vices and debaucheries; they affect religion, as lies and falsehoods affect it, in the very heart and essence, and render people as incapable of true piety as any of the grossest indulgences of sensuality and intemperance. And perhaps it may be true, that more people are kept strangers to the true spirit of religion, by what are called pleasures, diversions, and amusements, than by confessed vices, or the cares and business of life.
I have now only one thing to beg of the reader, that he would not think it a sufficient answer to all this, to say in general, that it is a doctrine too strict and rigid; but that he would consider every argument as it is in itself; not whether it be strict and rigid, but whether it be false reasoning, or more strict and rigid than the doctrine of Scripture: if it prescribes a purity and holiness which is not according to the spirit and temper of the Scriptures, let it be rejected; not as too strict and rigid, but as a species of false worship, as vain and ridiculous as idolatry: but if what is here asserted be highly conformable to the most plain doctrines of Scripture; the saying that it is too strict and rigid, is of no more weight against it than if it was said, that it was too true. It is not my intention to trouble the world with any particular notions of my own, or to impose any unnecessary rules, or fancied degrees of perfection upon any people. But in declaring against the stage, as I have done, I have no more followed any particular spirit, or private temper, or any more exceeded the plain doctrine of Scripture, than if I declared against drunkenness and debauchery. Let a man but be so much a Christian, as not to think it too high a degree of perfection, or too strict and rigid to be in earnest in these two petitions, Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; and he has Christianity enough to persuade him, that it is neither too high a perfection, nor too strict and rigid, constantly to declare against, and always to avoid the entertainment of the stage. __________________________________________________________________
