THE PRESENT DELUSION OF MANY A SERMON, PREACHED AT ST. PETER'S POOR, NOVEMBER 5, 1715. BY BENJAMIN HOADLY, D.D. LORD BISHOP OF WINCHESTER. 1 THESS. II. 11. And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie. THIS day hath so just a title to every sentiment, and every signification, of joy and gratitude, we can possibly entertain or express, as we are Christians, as we are Protestants, and as we are men; that I could heartily wish that every thought and every token of uneasiness, might be banished far from it. But since it is so, that it bears upon it, not only the signatures of God's repeated mercy to this nation; but the marks of an ingratitude and stupidity, perhaps not to be equalled in all history: since it doth not more effectually call to our mind that great won der of Providence, to which it gave a beginning with in our own memory, and which our own eyes have seen completed; than it points out to us that scene of iniquity and rebellion, which is now opened, in order to perplex and unravel that lovely frame of things, which heaven itself hath wrought for us: the commemoration of the blessings of this day, cannot but lead our thoughts, at present, to the attempts of those, who would rob us, and all our posterity, of them; and must create in us an astonishment, mixed with pity and indignation, at the conduct of many amongst us, from whom the ties of religion, the solemnity of oaths, the security of all that is valuable in this world, the interest of their native country, and all the obligations of honour, and conscience, required and demanded another manner of behaviour. It is a conduct, indeed, which can hardly be resolved into any thing, but a fatal delusion, sent down upon them, as a just punishment of their ingratitude for the greatest public happiness that ever any na tion enjoyed; and will at least give us a sensible demonstration, that, as in religion, according to the Apostle, a perverse and wilful opposition to truth, naturally, as well as by the justice of God, leads, in the end, to a belief, and confidence, in every thing absurd, and unreasonable: so, in worldly matters, ingratitude, and insensibility, under the public blessings of Providence, lead men, step by step, to mistake evil for good; to court misery for happiness; and to pursue their own ruin, under the notion of something desirable: and that, in both cases, it is but just in Almighty God, to punish men for their wilful baseness of spirit, by leaving them entirely to the conduct of it; and, in the scripture phrase, to send them, who will not know the value of truth or happiness, freely offered to them, a strong delusion, that they should believe a lie; and be led blindfold, by the greatest absurdities, against all the evidences of reason, and experience, into the pàths of ruin and destruction. Nor were there ever indeed more surprising instances of this, than what our own eyes may, at this time, behold in this kingdom. The wonder is not, that the professed members of the Church of Rome, unite their hearts and hands; and leave no methods, whether of deceit or violence, unattempted, for the service of that cause, which, in all their lowest fortunes, they never suffer to be removed out of their sight; that they put on all the forms of complaisance, and dissimulation; of civility and good humour, even to hereticks themselves, to inveigle them into their own ruin; that they flatter, and promise, and swear, every thing that is good and kind, to their fellow-labourers; and, at the same time, enter into all the resolutions of destruction, and desolation, whenever the opportunity of power shall come. This is nothing, but what is worthy of themselves, and of that Church, to the slavery of which they have devoted themselves. It is no more, than what they fairly, and publickly, profess; if Protestants will but open their eyes, and see it. It is their religion, and their conscience: it is inculcated upon them, as the great condition of their acceptance with God, that no good-nature of their own; no obliga tions from others; no ties of oaths, and solemn assurances; no regards to truth, justice, or honour; are to restrain them from any thing, let it be of what sort soever, that is for the security, or temporal advancement, of their Church. The case with them is not, as it is with Protestants, who, to their shame, have indeed been unmerciful to one another, on all sides: but then, their, mutual violences have been rather the sudden effects of passion and revenge; and still there hath been a principle left, by which, in the time of calmn and cool reflection, there may be hope of curing so great an cvil. And every sort of them, when they are undermost, disown, and disclaim, the lawfulness of all such proceedings. But in the Romish Church, it is firmly settled, upon never-altered principles; it is an established article of religion; equally believed, and owned, and inculcated, in their adversity, and low estate, as in the heighth of their power. It stands unrepealed, upon record; and it is confirmed by experience, that they are most likely not to fail of the honours of saintship, and the applauses of that Church, who act the most uniformly, and the most steadily, upon that foundation. Every weapon they use, is sanctified; every instance of fraud and perfidiousness; every degree of yiolence, and fury; is consecrated. It is not only allowed; but first recommended, and afterwards rewarded. This, therefore, is not the wonder, that men devoted to such a Church, keep up to their antient character, and profession; that they don't deflect a step from the glories of their illustrious ancestors; that they are not at all moved by the peace and interest of their country; nor by that security and quiet, which even themselves might enjoy, by the indulgence of a government they will not support; that they are still the same implacable adversaries; and still set on fire, by the principles, and the zeal, of their religion, to scatter ruin and destruction, round about them; and to deprive their neighbours of every thing that is good and valuable. But the wonder is, that so many of those, who call themselves Protestants; and of those, who have violently wrested the name of Churchmen out of the hands of their brethren, and appropriated it to themselves, as its only advocates and patriots; of those, whose cares for its interest, and fears for its safety, have been swelled and magnified, above those of all around them, to a degree almost romantic; and even of some, amongst them, who have solemnly given their faith to the present establishment, and not only sworn themselves to that, but abjured all contrary pretensions that so many, I say, who will take it amiss not to be called Protestants, and much more amiss, not to be called Churchmen, have shewn too great a readiness to join, some, their hands, some their hearts, and some, their indifference, with the worst of enemies, in the worst of causes; and to be deluded themselves, as well as help to delude others, into utter destruction, by the weakest, and most groundless insinuations, and all the most absurd methods, that ever any cause was supported, and propagated by. It cannot, therefore, but be |