The two opposite states of prosperity and adversity equally require our vigilance and caution; each of them is a state of conflict, in which nothing but unwearied resistance can preserve us from being overcome.

The vices of prosperity are well known, and generally observed.2 The haughtiness of high rank, the luxury of affluence, and the cruelty of power, every man remarks, and no man palliates. So that they are the common subjects of invective.

But though compassion hinders men from being equally severe upon the faults of the unhappy and distressed, yet, as there always has been, and always will be, at least an equal number in this, as in the other state, it is proper that they likewise should be warned of the crimes to which the circumstances of their condition expose them, and furnished with such reflections as may enable them to avoid them; that one misery may not produce a greater, nor misfortune be the cause of wickedness.

There is no crime3 more incident to those whose life is embittered with calamities, and whom afflictions have reduced to gloominess and melancholy, than that of repining at the determinations of Providence, or of “charging God foolishly.”4 They are often tempted to unseemly enquiries into the reason of his dispensations, and to expostulations about the justice of that sentence which condemns them to their present sufferings. They consider the lives of those whom they account happier than themselves, with an eye of malice and suspicion, and if they find them no better5 than their own, think themselves almost justified in murmuring at their own state.

But how widely they err from their duty, by giving way to discontent, and allowing themselves to dispute the reasonableness of those laws by which the great Creator governs the world, will appear,

First, by considering the attributes of God. And Secondly, by reflecting on the ignorance of man. First, by considering the attributes of God.

Many of the errours of mankind, both in opinion and practice, seem to arise originally from mistaken notions of the divine Being, or at least from want of attention to the nature of those attributes which reason, as well as the holy Scriptures, teaches us to assign to him. A temporary forgetfulness has, for the time, the same effect as real ignorance, but has this advantage, that it is much more easily remedied; since it is much less difficult to recollect our own ideas, than to obtain new ones. This is, I suppose, the state of every man amongst us, who is betrayed by his impatience under afflictions to murmur at Heaven. He knows, when he reflects calmly, that the world is neither eternal, nor independent; that we neither were produced, nor are preserved, by chance. But that heaven and earth, and the whole system of things, were created by an infinite and perfect Being, who still continues to superintend and govern them. He knows that this great Being is infinitely wise, and infinitely good; so that the end which he proposes must necessarily be the final happiness of those beings that depend upon him, and the means, by which he promotes that end, must undoubtedly be the wisest and the best.6 All this he is sufficiently convinced of, when he is awakened to recollection; but his conviction is over-borne by the sudden gusts of passion, and his impatience hurries him to wicked exclamations, before he can recal to his mind those reasonings, which, if attended to, would stifle every rebellious thought, and change his distrust and discontent into confidence and tranquillity.

It very nearly concerns every man, since every man is exposed, by the nature of human things, to trouble and calamities, to provide against the days of adversity, by making such ideas familiar to his mind as may defend him against any temptations to the sin of “charging God foolishly.”

It is frequently observed in common life, that some favourite notion or inclination, long indulged, takes such an entire possession of a man’s mind, and so engrosses his faculties, as to mingle thoughts perhaps he is not himself conscious of with almost all his conceptions, and influence his whole behaviour. It will often operate on occasions with which it could scarcely be imagined to have any connection, and will discover itself, however it may lie concealed, either in trifling incidents, or important occurrences, when it is least expected or foreseen. It gives a particular direction to every sentiment and action, and carries a man forward, as by a kind of resistless impulse, or insuperable destiny.7

As this unbounded dominion of ideas, long entertained by the fancy, and naturalized to the mind, is a very strong argument against suffering ourselves to dwell too long upon pleasing dreams, or delightful falsehoods, or admitting any inordinate passion to insinuate itself, and grow domestick; so it is a reason, of equal force, to engage us in a frequent, and intense meditation on those important and eternal rules, which are to regulate our conduct, and rectify our minds; that the power of habit may be added to that of truth, that the most useful ideas may be the most familiar, and that every action of our lives may be carried on under the superintendence of an over-ruling piety.

The man who has accustomed himself to consider that he is always in the presence of the Supreme Being, that every work of his hands is carried on, and every imagination of his heart formed, under the inspection of his Creator, and his Judge, easily withstands those temptations which find a ready passage into a mind not guarded and secured by this awful sense of the divine presence.

He is not enticed by ill examples, because the purity of God always occurs to his imagination; he is not betrayed to security by solitude, because he never considers himself as alone.

The two great attributes of our sovereign Creator, which seem most likely to influence our lives, and, by consequence, most necessarily to claim our attention, are his justice and his mercy. Each of these may suggest considerations, very efficacious for the suppression of wicked and unreasonable murmurs.

The justice of God will not suffer him to afflict any man, without cause, or without retribution. Whenever we suffer, therefore, we are certain, either that we have, by our wickedness, procured our own miseries, or that they are sent upon us as further trials of our virtue, in order to prepare us for greater degrees of happiness. Whether we suppose ourselves to suffer for the sake of punishment or probation, it is not easy to discover with what right we repine.8

If our pains and labours be only preparatory to unbounded felicity; if we are “persecuted for righteousness sake,”9 or suffer by any consequences of a good life; we ought to “rejoice and be exceeding glad,”1 and to glorify the goodness of God, who, by uniting us in our sufferings with saints and martyrs, will join us also in our reward.

But it is not uncharitable to believe of others, that this is not always the reason of their sufferings, and certainly no man ought to believe it of himself, without a very severe and cautious examination, long continued, and often repeated; for nothing is more dangerous than spiritual pride. The man that esteems himself a saint will be in danger of relaxing his circumspection, of stopping in his progress of virtue, and, if once he stops, of falling back into those infirmities from which his imaginary exemption made him presumptuous and supine. Every man therefore, when the hand of God is heavy upon him, must apply himself to an attentive, and exact retrospection of his own life. He must enquire, if he has avoided all open enormities, and scandalous degrees of guilt. Whether he is not punished for some secret crime unknown to the world, and perhaps almost forgotten by himself; whether, in surveying himself, he does not overlook some favourite sin, some criminal indulgence; or whether he has not satisfied himself with increasing his devotions, instead of reforming his morals, or whether, from too much confidence in his morality, he has not been too negligent of his devotions; and whether he has not contented himself with an imperfect and partial satisfaction for some injury done to his neighbour, when an adequate and compleat reparation was in his power.

To this enquiry he will be incited by remembering that God is just, that there is undoubtedly a reason for his misery, which will probably be found in his own corruption. He will therefore, instead of murmuring at God, begin to examine himself; and when he has found the depravity of his own manners, it is more likely that he will admire the mercy, than complain of the severity, of his Judge.

We have indeed so little right to complain of punishment, when it does not exceed the measure of the offence, that to bear it patiently hardly deserves the name of virtue; but impatience under it is, in a high degree, foolish and criminal.

It is well known how partial every man is in his own cause, and therefore it is necessary to meditate much upon the justice of God, lest we be tempted to think our punishments too great for our faults; and, in the midst of our anguish and distress, “charge God foolishly.”

But we shall receive yet farther satisfaction from a frequent reflection on the mercy of God. We shall learn to consider him, not only as the Governour, but as the Father, of the universe; as a Being infinitely gracious, whose punishments are not inflicted to gratify any passion of anger, or revenge, but to awaken us from the lethargy of sin, and to recal us from the paths of destruction.

Every man has observed, that the greatest part of those who enjoy the pleasures of this life, without interruption or restraint, are either entirely forgetful of any other state, or at least very little solicitous about it. Men are easily intoxicated with pleasure, dazzled with magnificence, or elated with power. The most pathetick or rational discourse upon eternity has seldom any lasting effect upon the gay, the young, the wealthy, and the prosperous.2 Even the gospel itself was first received by the poor.

The reason of this is not, because religion is best adapted to a gloomy and melancholy state of the mind. For the truths of religion are attested by evidence, which must be yielded to as soon as it is considered; and confirmed by proofs, which nothing but inattention can resist.3 But to consider, and weigh this evidence seriously and impartially, the mind must be abstracted, in some measure, from the objects that surround us; objects that strike us strongly, not because they are great, but because they are near; while the views of futurity affect us but faintly, not because they are unimportant, but because they are distant.

A constant conviction of the mercy of God, firmly implanted in our minds, will, upon the first attack of any calamity, easily induce us to reflect, that it is permitted by God to fall upon us, lest we should be too much enamoured of our present state, and neglect to extend our prospects into eternity.

Thus, by familiarizing to our minds the attributes of God, shall we, in a great measure, secure ourselves against any temptation to repine at his arrangements; but shall probably still more strengthen our resolution, and confirm our piety, by reflecting, Secondly, on the ignorance of man.

One general method of judging, and determining upon the value, or excellence of things, is by comparing one with another. Thus it is, that we form a notion of wealth, greatness, or power. It is by comparing ourselves with others,4 that we often make an estimate of our own happiness, and even sometimes of our virtue. They who repine at the ways of Providence, repine often, not because they are miserable, but because they are not so happy as others; and imagine their afflictions dealt with a partial hand, not that they can conceive themselves free from guilt, but because they see, or think they see, others equally criminal, that suffer less. Should they be supposed to judge rightly of themselves and others, should it be conceived that, in rating their own excellencies, they are not misled by their self-love, or that they are not hindered by envy from discerning the virtues of those whom they look upon as rivals for happiness; yet unless they could prove, that the mercies which they have received, are below their merits, they have no reason to complain. He that has more than he deserves is not to murmur merely because he has less than another.

But when we judge thus confidently of others, we deceive ourselves; we admit conjectures for certainties, and chimaeras for realities. To determine the degrees of virtue and wickedness in particular men, is the prerogative only of that Being that searches the secrets of the heart, that knows what temptations each man has resisted; how far the means of grace have been afforded him, and how he has improved or neglected them; that sees the force of every passion, knows the power of every prejudice, attends to every conflict of the mind, and marks all the struggles of imperfect virtue. He only, who gave us our faculties and abilities, knows when we err by insurmountable ignorance, or when we deviate from the right by negligence or presumption. He only, that knows every circumstance of life, and every motion of the mind, can tell how far the crimes, or virtues, of each man are to be punished or rewarded. No man can say, that he is better than another,5 because no man can tell, how far the other was enabled to resist temptation, or what incidents might concur to overthrow his virtue. Nor are we able to decide, with much greater certainty, upon the happiness of others. We see only the superficies of men, without knowing what passes within. Splendour, equipage, and luxury, are not always accompanied by happiness; but are more frequently the wretched solaces of a mind distracted with perplexities, and harrassed with terrours. Men are often driven, by reflection and remorse, into the hurries of business, or of pleasure, and fly from the terrifying suggestions of their own thoughts to banquets and to courts.

Prosperity and happiness are very different, though by those who undertake to judge of the state of others they are always confounded. It is possible to know that another is prosperous, that his revenues increase, that his dependants grow more numerous, that his schemes succeed, and his reputation advances. But we cannot tell how much all these promote his happiness, because we cannot judge how much they may engage his care, or inflame his desires; how much he may fear his enemies, or suspect his friends. We know not how much this seeming felicity may be impaired by his folly, or his guilt; and therefore he that murmurs at the inequality of human happiness, or accuses Providence of partiality, forgets his own imperfections, and determines rashly, where he cannot judge.

Let every one then whom God shall visit with affliction humble himself before him, with steady confidence in his mercy, and unfeigned submission to his justice! Let him remember that his sins are the cause of his miseries, that his troubles are sent to awaken him to reflection, and that the evils of this life may be improved to his eternal advantage, if, instead of adding sin to sin, and “charging God foolishly,” he applies himself seriously to the great work of self-examination and repentance.

For surely the frailty of this life, and the uncertainty of all human happiness, is proved by every view of the world about us, and every reflection upon ourselves. Let not death arrest us in a state of mind unfit to stand the trial of eternal justice, or to obtain the privileges of infinite mercy! Let it not surprize us engaged in schemes of vanity, or wishes of empty pleasure! Let death, which may seize us now, which will seize us at some time, equally terrible, find us, whenever it shall come, animated with the love of God, submissive to his eternal will, and diffused in universal charity and benevolence to our brethren.

Let this instant begin a new life; and every future minute improve it! Then, in exchange for riches, honours, or sensual delights, we may obtain the tranquillity of a good conscience, and that “peace of God which passeth all understanding.”6