History of Civilization in England, Vol. 3 of 3. Henry Buckley
such a state, that, during the seventeenth, and part of the eighteenth, century, some of the noblest feelings of which our nature is capable, the feelings of hope, of love, and of gratitude, were set aside, and were replaced by the dictates of a servile and ignominous fear. The physical sufferings to which the human frame is liable, nay, even the very accidents to which we are casually exposed, were believed to proceed, not from our ignorance, nor from our carelessness, but from the rage of the Deity. If a fire chanced to break out in Edinburgh, the greatest alarm was excited, because it was the voice of God crying out against a luxurious and dissolute city.527 If a boil or a sore appeared on your body, that, too, was a divine punishment, and it was more than doubtful whether it might lawfully be cured.528 The small-pox, being one of the most fatal as well as one of the most loathsome of all diseases, was especially sent by God; and, on that account, the remedy of inoculation was scouted as a profane attempt to frustrate His intentions.529 Other disorders, which, though less terrible, were very painful, proceeded from the same source, and all owed their origin to the anger of the Almighty.530 In every thing, His power was displayed, not by increasing the happiness of men, nor by adding to their comforts, but by hurting and vexing them in all possible ways. His hand, always raised against the people, would sometimes deprive them of wine by causing the vintage to fail;531 sometimes, would destroy their cattle in a storm;532 and sometimes, would even make dogs bite their legs when they least expected it.533 Sometimes, He would display His wrath by making the weather excessively dry;534 sometimes, by making it equally wet.535 He was always punishing; always busy in increasing the general suffering, or, to use the language of the time, making the creature smart under the rod.536 Every fresh war was the result of His special interference; it was not caused by the meddling folly or insensate ambition of statesmen, but it was the immediate work of the Deity, who was thus made responsible for all the devastations, the murders, and other crimes more horrible still, which war produces.537 In the intervals of peace, which, at that period, were very rare, He had other means of vexing mankind. The shock of an earthquake was a mark of His displeasure;538 a comet was a sign of coming tribulation;539 and when an eclipse appeared, the panic was so universal, that persons of all ranks hastened to church to deprecate His wrath.540 What they heard there, would increase their fear, instead of allaying it. For the clergy taught their hearers, that even so ordinary an event as thunder, was meant to excite awe, and was sent for the purpose of showing to men with how terrible a master they had to deal.541 Not to tremble at thunder, was, therefore, a mark of impiety; and, in this respect, man was unfavourably contrasted with the lower animals, since they were invariably moved by this symptom of divine power.542
These visitations, eclipses, comets, earthquakes, thunder, famine, pestilence, war, disease, blights in the air, failures in the crops, cold winters, dry summers, these, and the like, were, in the opinion of the Scotch divines, outbreaks of the anger of the Almighty against the sins of men; and that such outbreaks were incessant is not surprising, when we consider that, in the same age, and according to the same creed, the most innocent, and even praiseworthy, actions were deemed sinful, and worthy of chastisement. The opinions held on this subject are not only curious, but extremely instructive. Besides forming an important part of the history of the human mind, they supply decisive proof of the danger of allowing a single profession to exalt itself above all other professions. For, in Scotland, as elsewhere, directly the clergy succeeded in occupying a more than ordinary amount of public attention, they availed themselves of that circumstance to propagate those ascetic doctrines, which, while they strike at the root of human happiness, benefit no one except the class which advocates them. That class, indeed, can hardly fail to reap advantage from a policy, which, by increasing the apprehensions to which the ignorance and timidity of men make them too liable, does also increase their eagerness to fly for support to their spiritual advisers. And the greater the apprehension, the greater the eagerness. Of this, the Scotch clergy, who were perfect masters of their own art, were well aware. Under their influence, a system of morals was established, which, representing nearly every act as sinful, kept the people in perpetual dread, lest unwittingly they were committing some enormous offence, which would bring upon their heads a signal and overwhelming punishment.
According to this code, all the natural affections, all social pleasures, all amusements, and all the joyous instincts of the human heart were sinful, and were to be rooted out. It was sinful for a mother to wish to have sons;543 and, if she had any, it was sinful to be anxious about their welfare.544 It was a sin to please yourself, or to please others; for, by adopting either course, you were sure to displease God.545 All pleasures, therefore, however slight in themselves, or however lawful they might appear, must be carefully avoided.546 When mixing in society, we should edify the company, if the gift of edification had been bestowed upon us; but we should by no means attempt to amuse them.547 Cheerfulness, especially when it rose to laughter, was to be guarded against; and we should choose for our associates grave and sorrowful men, who were not likely to indulge in so foolish a practice.548 Smiling, provided it stopped short of laughter, might occasionally be allowed; still, being a carnal pastime, it was a sin to smile on Sunday.549 Even on week-days, those who were most imbued with religious principles hardly ever smiled, but sighed, groaned, and wept.550 A true Christian would be careful, in his movements, to preserve invariable gravity, never running, but walking soberly, and not treading out in a brisk and lively manner, as unbelievers are wont to do.551 So, too, if he wrote to a friend, he must beware lest his letter should contain any thing like jocoseness; since jesting is incompatible with a holy and serious life.552
It was, moreover, wrong to take pleasure in beautiful scenery; for a pious man had no concern with such matters, which were beneath him, and the admiration of which should be left to the unconverted.553 The unregenerate might delight in these vanities, but they who were properly instructed, saw Nature as she really was, and knew that as she, for about five thousand years, had been constantly on the move, her vigour was well-nigh spent, and her pristine energy had departed.554 To the eye of ignorance, she still seemed fair and fresh; the fact, however, was, that she was worn out and decrepit; she was suffering from extreme old age; her frame, no longer elastic, was leaning on one side, and she soon would perish.555 Owing to the sin of man, all things were getting worse, and nature was degenerating so fast, that already the lilies were losing their whiteness, and the roses their smell.556 The heavens were waxing old;557 the very sun, which lighted the earth, was becoming feeble.558 This universal degeneracy was sad to think of; but the profane knew it not. Their ungodly eyes were still pleased by what they saw. Such was the result of their obstinate determination to indulge the senses, all of which were evil; the eye being, beyond comparison, the most wicked. Hence, it was especially marked out for divine punishment; and, being constantly sinning, it was afflicted with fifty-two different diseases, that is, one disease for each week in the year.
527
In 1696, there was a fire in Edinburgh; whereupon Moncrief, in his sermon next day, ‘told us, “That God's voice was crying to this city, and that he was come to the very ports, and was crying over the walls to us; that we should amend our ways, lest he should come to our city, and consume us in a terrible manner.” I cannot tell what this Dispensation of Providence wrought on me,’ &c.
528
The Rev. James Fraser had a boil, and afterwards a fever. ‘During this sickness he miraculously allayed the pain of my boil, and speedily, and that without means, cured it; for however I bought some things to prevent it, yet, looking on it as a punishment from God, I knew not if I could be free to take the rod out of his hand, and to counterwork him.’
529
It was not until late in the eighteenth century, that the Scotch clergy gave up this notion. At last, even they became influenced by the ridicule to which their superstition exposed them, and which produced more effect than any argument could have done. The doctrines, however, which they and their predecessors had long inculcated, had so corrupted the popular mind, that instances will, I believe, be found even in the nineteenth century, of the Scotch deeming precautions against small-pox to be criminal, or, as they called it, flying in the face of Providence. The latest evidence I can at this moment put my hand on, is in a volume published in 1797. It is stated by the Rev. John Paterson, that, in the parish of Auldearn, in the county of Nairn, ‘Very few have fallen a sacrifice to the small-pox, though the people are in general averse to inoculation, from the general gloominess of their faith, which teaches them, that all diseases which afflict the human frame are instances of the Divine interposition, for the punishment of sin; any interference, therefore, on their part, they deem an usurpation of the prerogative of the Almighty.’
530
The Rev. John Welsh, when suffering from a painful disorder, and also from other troubles, writes: ‘My douleurs ar impossible to expresse.’ … ‘It is the Lord's indignation.’ See his letter, in
531
In January 1653, ‘This tyme, and mony monethis befoir, thair wes great skairshtie of wynes. In this also appered Godis justice toward this natioun for abusing of that blissing many yeiris befoir.’
532
This idea was so deeply rooted, that we actually find a public fast and humiliation ordered, on account of ‘this present uncouth storme of frost and snaw, quhilk hes continewit sa lang that the bestiall ar dieing thik fauld.’
533
‘There was a dog bit my leg most desperately. I no sooner received this, but I saw the hand of God in it.’
534
‘The evident documentis of Goddis wrath aganes the land, be the extraordinarie drouth.’
535
‘The hynous synnes of the land produced much takines of Godis wraith; namelie, in this spring tyme, for all Februar and a great pairt of Marche wer full of havie weittis.’
536
537
‘War is one of the sharp scourges whereby God punisheth wicked nations; and it cometh upon a people, not accidentally, but
538
‘Earthquakes, whereby God, when he is angry, overthrows and overturns very mountains.’
539
‘Whatever natural causes may be adduced for those alarming appearances, the system of comets is yet so uncertain, and they have so frequently preceded desolating strokes and turns in public affairs, that they seem designed in providence to stir up sinners to seriousness. Those preachers from heaven, when God's messengers were silenced, neither prince nor prelate could stop.’
540
‘People of all sortes rane to the churches to deprecat God's wrath.’
541
‘By it, he manifests his power and shows himself terrible.’
542
‘The stupidity and senselessnesse of man is greater than that of the brute creatures, which are all more moved with the thunder, then the hearts of men for the most part.’
543
Lady Colsfeild ‘had born two or three daughters, and was sinfully anxious after a son, to heir the estate of Colsfeild.’
544
Under the influence of this terrible creed, the amiable mother of Duncan Forbes, writing to him respecting his own health and that of his brother, speaks ‘of my sinful God-provoking anxiety, both for your souls and bodies.’
545
‘The more you please yourselves and the world, the further you are from pleasing God.’
546
‘Pleasures are most carefully to be auoided: because they both harme and deceiue.’
547
According to
548
‘Frequent the gravest company, and the fellowship of those that are sorrowfull.’
549
In 1650, when Charles II. was in Scotland, ‘the clergy reprehended him very sharply, if he smiled on those days’ (Sundays).
550
It is said of Donald Cargill, that, ‘his very countenance was edifying to beholders; often sighing with deep groans.’
551
‘Walk with a sober pace, not “tinkling with your feet.”’
552
‘At home, writing letters to a friend. My vein is inclined to jest and humour. The letter was too comical and jocose; and after I had sent it away, I had a check that it was too light, and jesting foolishly. I sent and got it back, and destroyed it. My temper goes too far that way, and I ought to check it, and be more on my guard, and study edification in every thing.’
553
‘To the unmortified man, the world smelleth like the garden of God’ … ‘the world is not to him an ill-smelled stinking corps.’
554
‘Wearinesse and motion is laid on Moon and Sunne, and all creatures on this side of the Moon. Seas ebbe and flow, and that's trouble; winds blow, rivers move, heavens and stars these five thousand yeares, except one time, have not had sixe minutes rest.’ … ‘The Sunne that never rests, but moves as swiftly in the night as in the day.’
555
‘This, then, I say, is the state all things ye see are in, – it is their old age. The creation now is an old rotten house that is all dropping through and leaning to the one side.’
556
‘The lilies and roses, which, no doubt, had more sweetnesse of beauty and smell, before the sin of man made them vanity-sick.’
557
‘The heavens that are supposed to be incorruptible, yet they wax old as doth a garment.’
558
‘The neerer the sun drawes to the end of his daily course, the lesse is his strength, for we see the Sunne in the evening decayes in heat; so it is, the longer by reuolution he turnes about in his sphere, he waxes alway the weaker; and, to vse the similitude of the holy spirit, as a garment the older it groweth becomes the lesse beautifull.’