{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_68742/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_68742","id":"gutenberg_68742","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68742","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Religion/Spirituality","Methodist Church","Theology -- Early works to 1800","Theology -- History -- 18th century"],"text":"THE\n WORKS\n OF THE\n Rev. JOHN WESLEY\n\n\n\n\n \u250c\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2510\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 Transcriber\u2019s Notes \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 Punctuation has been standardized. \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 The author has used an asterisk (*) to indicate passages he \u2502\n \u2502 considers most worthy of attention. \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 The text may show quotations within quotations, all set \u2502\n \u2502 off by similar quote marks. The inner quotations have been \u2502\n \u2502 changed to alternate quote marks for improved readability. \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 Characters in small caps have been replaced by all caps. \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 Non-printable characteristics have been given the following \u2502\n \u2502 Italic text: --> _text_ \u2502\n \u2502 emphasized text within \u2502\n \u2502 italics --> |text| \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 This book was written in a period when many words had \u2502\n \u2502 not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have \u2502\n \u2502 multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in \u2502\n \u2502 the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated \u2502\n \u2502 with a Transcriber\u2019s Note. \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 The symbol \u2018\u2021\u2019 indicates the description in parenthesis has \u2502\n \u2502 been added to an illustration. This may be needed if there \u2502\n \u2502 is no caption or if the caption does not describe the image \u2502\n \u2502 adequately. \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 Footnotes are identified in the text with a superscript \u2502\n \u2502 number and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which \u2502\n \u2502 they appear. \u2502\n \u2502 \u2502\n \u2502 Transcriber\u2019s Notes are used when making corrections to the \u2502\n \u2502 text or to provide additional information for the modern \u2502\n \u2502 reader. These notes are identified by \u2666\u2660\u2665\u2663 symbols in the \u2502\n \u2502 text and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which \u2502\n \u2502 they appear. \u2502\n \u2514\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2500\u2518\n\n\n\n\n THE\n\n WORKS\n\n OF THE\n\n Rev. JOHN WESLEY, M.A.\n Late Fellow of _Lincoln-College_, OXFORD.\n\n\n VOLUME V.\n\n\n BRISTOL:\n Printed by WILLIAM PINE, in _Wine-Street_.\n MDCCLXXI.\n\n\n\n\n THE\n CONTENTS\n Of the _Fifth_ VOLUME.\n\n\n An extract from Mr. LAW\u2019s treatise\n on _Christian Perfection_.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n _Christians are called to a constant state of prayer and\n devotion._\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n _All Christians are required to imitate the life and example\n of Jesus Christ._\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n _An exhortation to Christian Perfection._\n\n\n An extract from Mr. LAW\u2019s serious _Call_\n to a _Holy Life_.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n _Concerning the nature and extent of Christian devotion._\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n _An enquiry into the reason why the generality of\n |Christians| fall so short of the holiness and devotion\n of Christianity._\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n _Of the great danger and folly of not |intending| to be as\n eminent as we can, in the practice of all Christian virtues._\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n _We can please God in no state or employment, but by\n |intending| and |devoting| it all to his glory._\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n _Persons that are free from the necessity of labour and\n employments, are to consider themselves as devoted to God\n in a higher degree._\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n _How the imprudent use of an |estate| corrupts all the\n tempers, and fills the heart with poor and ridiculous\n passions; represented in the character of |Flavia|._\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n _How the wise and pious use of an estate carrieth us to\n all the virtues of the Christian life; represented in\n the character of |Miranda|._\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n _Shewing all orders of men and women, of all ages, are\n obliged to devote themselves to God._\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n _Shewing that great devotion fills our lives with the\n greatest peace and happiness that can be enjoyed in this\n world._\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n _The happiness of a life wholly devoted unto God,\n farther proved, from the |vanity|, and |ridiculous, poor|\n enjoyments which they are forced to take up with, who live\n according to their own humours. This represented in various\n characters._\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n _That not only a life of |vanity|, or |sensuality|, but\n even the |most regular| kind of life, that is not governed\n by great devotion, sufficiently shews its miseries, its\n wants and emptiness to the eyes of all the world. This\n represented in various characters._\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n _Concerning that part of devotion which relates to |times|\n and |hours| of |prayer|. Of daily |early| prayer in the\n morning. How we may improve our |forms| of prayer, and\n increase the |spirit| of devotion._\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n _Recommending devotion at nine o\u2019clock in the morning,\n called, in scripture, the |third hour| of the day. The\n subject of these prayers may be humility._\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n _Shewing how the |education| which men generally receive,\n makes the doctrines of humility difficult to be practised.\n The spirit of a better education represented in the\n character of |Paternus|._\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n _Shewing how the method of educating |daughters|, makes it\n difficult for them to enter into the spirit of Christian\n humility. How miserably they are injured and abused by such\n an education. The spirit of a better education, represented\n in the \u2666character of |Eusebia|._\n\n \u2666 \u2018charact\u2019 replaced with \u2018character\u2019\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n _Recommending devotion at twelve o\u2019clock, called, in scripture,\n the |sixth hour| of the day, this frequency of devotion,\n equally desirable by all orders of people. |Universal love|\n is recommended to be the subject of prayer at this hour. Of\n intercession, as an act of universal love._\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n _Of the necessity and benefit of |intercession|, considered\n as an exercise of universal love. How all orders of men\n are to interceed with God for one another: how such\n intercession amends and reforms the heart._\n\n\n Illustration: (\u2021 decoration)\n\n\n\n\n An Extract from Mr. LAW\u2019s\n TREATISE\n On CHRISTIAN PERFECTION.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n _Christians are called to a constant state\n of prayer and devotion?_\n\n\nI. IT is one principal article of our religion to believe that\nour blessed Saviour is now at the right hand of God, there making\n_perpetual intercession_ for us, till the redemption of mankind is\nfinished. Prayer therefore is undoubtedly a proper means of drawing\nnear to God; since he who has conquered sin and death, who is Lord\nof all, is yet as the _great advocate_ for sinners, obliged to make\nperpetual intercession for them.\n\nWhenever therefore we are in the spirit of prayer; when our hearts are\nlifted up to God, breathing out holy petitions to the throne of grace,\nwe have this encouragement to be _constant_ and _fervent_ in it, that\nwe are then joining with an intercession at the right hand of God,\nand doing that for ourselves on earth which our blessed Saviour is\nperpetually doing for us in heaven. This reason of prayer is perhaps\nnot much considered; yet it certainly contains a most powerful motive\nto it. For who that considers his redemption as now carrying on by\nan _intercession_ in heaven, can think himself so rightly employed as\nwhen the constancy of his own prayers bear some resemblance to that\nnever-ceasing intercession which is made above? This shews us also,\nthat we are most of all to desire those prayers which are offered up\nat the _altar_, where the body and blood of Christ are joined with\nthem. For as our prayers are only acceptable to God through the merits\nof Jesus Christ; so we may be sure it is the most prevailing prayer,\nwhen we thus pray in the name of _Christ_, and plead his merits in the\n_highest manner_ we can.\n\n\nII. Devotion may be considered either as an exercise of public or\nprivate prayers at set times and occasions; or as a temper of the mind,\na state and disposition of the heart, which is rightly affected with\nsuch exercises. Now external acts of devotion, are like other external\nactions, very liable to falseness, and are only so far good as they\nproceed from a right disposition of heart. Zealous professions of\n_friendship_ are but hypocrisy, unless there be an equal zeal in the\nheart; and so solemn prayers are but repeated hypocrisies, unless the\nheart be _conformable_ to them. Since therefore it is the heart only\nthat is devout, I shall consider devotion chiefly in this respect, as\nit is a _state_ and _temper_ of heart; for it is in this sense only\nthat _Christians_ are called to a _constant state_ of devotion. They\nare not to be always upon their knees; but they are to be always in\nthe state of devotion.\n\n\nIII. *Friendship does not require us to be always waiting upon our\nfriends in external services; these offices have their times of\nintermission; it is only the service of the heart that is never to\nintermit. This is not to begin and end, as external services do;\nbut to persevere like the motion of our heart, or the beating of our\npulse. It is just so in devotion; _prayers_ have their _hours_, their\nbeginning and ending, but that turn of mind, that disposition of the\nheart towards God, which is the life and spirit of prayer, is to be as\nconstant and lasting as our own life and spirit.\n\n*The repeating of a _creed_ at certain times is an act of faith; but\nthat faith, which _overcometh_ the _world_, stays neither for times\nnor seasons, but is a living principle of the soul, that is always\nbelieving, trusting and depending upon God. In the same manner verbal\nprayers are acts of devotion; but that prayer which openeth the gates\nof heaven, stops not at _forms_ and _manuals_ of devotion; but is a\nlanguage of the soul, which worships, adores, and delights in God, at\nall times and seasons.\n\nThe reason of prayer, like all other duties of piety, is founded in\nthe nature of God, and the nature of man. It is founded in the nature\nof God, as he is the sole fountain of all happiness; it is founded\nin the nature of man, as he is weak and helpless, and full of wants.\nSo that prayer is an _earnest application, or ascent of the heart to_\nGod, _as to the sole cause of all happiness_. He therefore that most\ntruly feels the misery, corruption, and weakness of his own nature;\nwho is most fully convinced that a relief from all these disorders,\nand a true happiness, is to be found in God alone; he who is most\nfully convinced of these two truths, is most fully possessed of the\nspirit of prayer.\n\n\nIV. *Hence we may perceive why people of _learning_, and great\n_application_ to _books_, who seem to have retired from the\ncorruptions of the world, are yet often not devout. The reason is,\nbecause devotion imparts a full sense of the vanity and littleness\nof _every thing_ but God, whereas it is often the _same vanity_ that\nwears out scholars in their _studies_, and other people at _court_,\nin the _camp_, or at _sea_. They do not want to be _merchants_, or\n_colonels_, or _secretaries of state_; but they want to be critics,\ngrammarians and historians. They, it may be, disregard riches and\nequipage; despise the sports and diversions of the _present age_; but\nthen it is to contemplate the _riches_ and _equipage_, the sports and\ndiversions of the ancient _Romans_.\n\nThe vanity of some _ladies_ and _gentlemen_ would be touched, if you\nshould tell them \u2666that they did not understand _dress_: some great\n_scholars_ would be more dejected, if you should suppose them ignorant\nof a _fold_ in the _Roman garments_.\n\n \u2666 duplicate word removed \u2018that\u2019\n\nThe _bulk_ of mankind are so dull and tasteless, and illiterate, as\nto set their hearts upon _current coin_. But great learning has raised\nsome men above this vulgar grossness of taste. Their heart does not\nbeat but at the sight of a _medal_, or an ancient coin. And they are\nonly afraid of dying before they have out-done the world for their\ncollections of _shells_, _skins_, _stones_, _flies_, and _insects_.\n\n\nV. *When men retire into their studies to _change_ their nature; to\n_correct_ and _reform_ their passions; to find out the folly, the\nfalseness, the corruption and weakness of their hearts; to penetrate\ninto the vanity and emptiness of all worldly attainments; when they\nread and meditate, to fill their souls with heavenly affections,\nand to raise their hearts unto God; when this is _learning_, (and\nwhat else deserves the name?) then learning will lead men unto God;\nthen learned men will be devout, and great _scholars_ will be great\n_saints_.\n\n\nVI. Many people are thus far sincere in their devotions, that they\nwould be glad to pray devoutly; they strive to be fervent, but never\nattain to it, because they never took the only possible way. They\nnever thought of altering their lives, or of living different from the\nrest of the world; but hope to be devout merely by reading over books\nof devotion: which is as odd a fancy, as if a man should expect to be\nhappy, by reading discourses upon happiness. When these people dare\ntake Christianity, as it is offered to them in the gospel; when they\ndeny themselves, and renounce the world, they then will have begun\ndevotion.\n\n_Trebonius_ asks how often he shall pray? He thinks the nicety of\nthe question shews the _piety_ of his heart. But _Trebonius_ is\ndeceived, for the question proves, that he is a stranger to devotion.\n_Trebonius_ has a friend; he is constantly visiting him; he is never\nwell out of his company. If he is absent, letters are sent at all\nopportunities. Now what is the reason that he never asks how often he\nshall visit, how often he shall delight in, how often he shall write\nto his friend? It is because his friend has his heart, and his heart\nis his faithful and sufficient instructor. When _Trebonius_ has given\nhis heart to God, he will have done asking how often he shall pray.\n\n_Julius_ goes to prayers; he confesses himself to be a miserable\nsinner; he accuses himself to God with all the aggravations that\ncan be, as having no _health_ in him. Yet _Julius_ cannot bear to\nbe informed of any imperfection, or suspected to be wanting in any\ndegree of virtue. Now, can there be a stronger proof, that _Julius_ is\nwanting in the sincerity of his devotions? Is not this a plain sign,\nthat his confessions to God are only words of _course_, an humble\n_civility_ of speech to his Maker, in which his heart had no share?\n\nIf a man was to confess that his _eyes_ were bad, his hands weak, his\nfeet feeble, and his body helpless; he would not be angry with those\nthat supposed he was not in perfect strength. Yet _Julius_ confesses\nhimself to be in great weakness, corruption, disorder, and infirmity;\nand yet is angry at any one that does but suppose him defective in\nany virtue. Is it not the same thing as if he had said \u201cyou must not\nimagine that I am in earnest in my devotions\u201d?\n\n\nVII. To live in true devotion, we must daily consider the end and\nhope of our calling, that all worldly passions and desires may be\nswallowed up in one great desire of future glory. This devotion to God\nis signified in scripture, by living _by faith and not by sight_, when\nthe invisible things of the other life, are the reason, the motive,\nand the measure of all our desires and tempers. And those who thus\ntend to God in all their motion and desires, are devout every where.\nThis makes their common actions acts of religion, and turns every\nplace into a _chapel_. And it is to this devotion we are all called,\nnot only by particular precepts, but by the whole nature and tenour\nof our religion.\n\n\nVIII. Now, as all states and tempers of the mind must be supported\nby actions and exercises suitable to them; so devotion, which is an\nearnest application of the soul to God, as its only happiness, must\nbe supported and kept alive by actions and exercises suitable to it.\nThe devotion of the heart disposes us to observe set times of prayer;\nand, on the other hand, set times of prayer increase and enliven\nthe devotion of the heart. It is thus in all other cases: habits of\nthe mind dispose us to actions suitable to them; and these actions\nstrengthen and improve the habits from whence they proceed.\n\n*It is the habitual taste for _music_ that carries people to\n_concerts_; and again, it is _concerts_ that increase the habitual\nlove of _music_: so it is the right disposition of the heart towards\nGod that leads people to outward acts of prayer; and, on the other\nside, outward acts of prayer preserve and strengthen the right\ndisposition of the heart towards God. As therefore we are to judge of\nthe significancy of our prayers, by looking to the state and temper\nof our heart; so are we also to judge of the state of our heart by the\n_frequency_, _constancy_, and _importunity_ of our prayers. For as we\nare sure that our prayers are insignificant, unless they proceed from\na right heart; so unless our prayers be _frequent_, _constant_, and\nfull of _importunity_, we may be sure our heart is not right towards\nGod.\n\n\nIX. Our blessed Saviour has indeed condemned one sort of long prayer.\n_But, when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the Heathens do; for\nthey think they shall be heard for their much speaking_\u00b9. But it is\nnot _length_, or a _continuance_ of prayer that is here forbid; but\n_vain repetitions_. Nor are the _Heathens_ here condemned for being\n_importunate_, and _persevering_ in prayer; but for a _wrong judgment_,\nin that they thought they were heard, because they _spoke much_; that\nis, often repeated the same words. So that all that Christians are\nhere forbid, is this, to think that the _efficacy_ of prayer consists\nin vain and long repetitions; yet some imagine, that a _continuance_\nof prayer is here reproved, and thence conclude, that shortness is a\nnecessary qualification of prayer.\n\n \u00b9 Matt. vi. 7.\n\nBut how willing must people be to be deceived, before they can reason\nin this manner? For the words have plainly no relation to _length_ or\n_shortness_ of prayer. They no more condemn the one than the other.\nThey only condemn an opinion of the _Heathens_, that the excellency\nof prayer consisted in a multitude of repetitions. Now, to think that\nshort prayer is better, because it is _short_, is the same error as\nto hold with the _Heathens_, that it is better because it is often\nrepeated. It is the same mistake in the nature of devotion.\n\n\nX. But supposing the meaning of these words was obscure (which it is\nnot) yet surely it is plain enough, that our Saviour has elsewhere\nexpresly recommended a _continuance_ and _importunity_ in prayer. And\nhow perversely do they read the gospel, who can find this authority\nagainst such kind of devotion! For can he who was so often retiring\nto _deserts_, to _mountains_, to _solitary_ places to pray, who spent\n_whole nights_ in prayer; can he be supposed to have left a reproof\nof those who should follow his example? But besides his example, his\ndoctrine is on no point more plain and certain. _He spake a parable\nunto them to this end, that men ought always to pray and not to\nfaint._ And it is plain to any one that reads it, that it has no other\nintent but to recommend _continuance_ and _importunity_ in prayer.\nThe widow is relieved; not because she asked relief, but because\nshe _continued_ asking it: And God is said to avenge his elect; not\nbecause they cry to him now and then, but because they _cry day and\nnight_. Our blessed Saviour teacheth the same doctrine in another\nparable, of a person going to his friend to borrow _three loaves_ at\nmidnight, which he concludes thus: _I say unto you, though he would\nnot rise and give him, because he is his friend; yet because of\nhis importunity, he will rise and give him as many as he needeth_.\nHere again the sole scope of the passage is to shew the efficacy of\ncontinuance and importunity in prayer.\n\n\nXI. _Clito_ says he desires no more time for rising, dressing, and\nsaying his prayers, than a quarter of an hour. He tells this to his\nfriends; not to shew his want of religion, but that he may be thought\nto understand devotion. You tell him that our Saviour\u2019s parables teach\n_continuance_ and _importunity_ in _prayer_; that the apostles exhort\nto pray _without ceasing_, to pray _always_; and that devout persons\nare recorded in scripture as praying _night and day_. Still _Clito_ is\nfor short prayers. He at last finds a text of scripture, and appeals\nto the example of the _angels_; they only said, _Glory be to_ God _on\nhigh, and on earth peace, good-will towards men_. _Clito_ takes this\nto be an argument for short prayer, because the angels had done so\nsoon. But _Clito_ must be told, that this is no prayer at all; it is\nonly a joyful proclamation to men. And surely the manner of _angels_\nspeaking to men, can be no rule or measure of men\u2019s speaking to God.\nThe angels had no more to tell the world than this message of joy;\nbut does it therefore follow, that sinners are to be as short in their\naddresses to God? If _Clito_ must have an example from heaven, he\nmight have found one much more proper than this, where it is said,\n_That they rest not day and night, saying, holy, holy, holy, Lord\n|God| Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come_\u00b9.\n\n \u00b9 Rev. iv. 3.\n\n\nXII. There are _two seasons_ of our hearts which we should carefully\nobserve: I mean the _time_ when we are _most affected_ with our\ndevotions, and the _time_ when we are _most indisposed_ to pray. For\nboth these might equally serve to instruct us in the knowledge of\nourselves, and how to govern the motions of our hearts.\n\n*Reflect with yourself, how it was with you; what circumstance you was\nin; what had _happened_ to you; what you had been _doing_; when you\nfound yourself _so affected_ with your devotions. Now, if you find out\nwhat state you was then in, when you was disposed to pray so fervently,\nthen you have found out a way of raising your devotion at another time.\nIf you was then to put down in _writing_ some short remembrance of the\n_chief things_ that raised your heart, so that you might have a view\nof them as often as your mind wanted such assistance, you would find\na benefit that would reward your labour. On the contrary, whenever\nyou have found yourself _very much indisposed_ for prayer, reflect\nwith yourself, what _state_ you was then in; what had _happened_ unto\nyou; what _thoughts_ you had in your head; what _passions_ were then\nawakened; what you had been _doing_, or were _intending_ to do: for\nwhen you have found out the state you was then in, you have found out\nthe hindrances of your devotion; and know what things to avoid, if you\ndesire not to quench the Spirit.\n\n\nXIII. If you was here again to make short remembrances in _writing_,\nof the chief things which rendered you indisposed for prayer,\nand frequently to read and reflect upon them, you would have a\nfaithful information of what you are most to avoid. If you find that\n_impertinent visits_, _foolish conversation_, or a day idly spent in\n_civil compliances_ with other people, have rendered your mind _dull_\nand _indisposed_, and less _affected_ with devotion, then you will\nhave found that impertinent visits, and ceremonious compliances in\nspending our time, are not _little indifferent_ things; but are to be\ndaily watched and guarded against by all those who desire to be daily\nalive unto God.\n\n\nXIV. They who are for short prayers, because God does not _need_ much\nintreaty, ought also to shew, that man does not need much prayer; does\nnot _need_ that strength, and light, and help, which arises from _much\npraying_. For unless this be the state of our hearts, we shall want\nmuch prayer to _move_ and _awake_ ourselves; how little soever we\nsuppose necessary to _excite_ the goodness of God. If therefore men\nwould consider prayer, not only as it is an _invocation_ of God, but\nalso as it is an _exercise of holy thoughts_; as it is an endeavour to\n_feel_ and be affected with the great truths of religion, they would\nsoon see, that tho\u2019 God is so good as not to _need_ much calling upon;\nyet that man is so weak as to need much assistance, and to be under\na constant necessity of that help, and light, and improvement which\narises from praying much. When therefore we would know how much we\nought to pray, we must consider how much our hearts want to be altered,\nand remember that the great work of prayer is, to work upon ourselves;\nit is not to _move_ and affect God, but it is to move and affect our\nown hearts, and fill them with such tempers as God delights to reward.\n\n\nXV. *Now prayer never so corrects and amends the heart as when we\nextend it to all the _particulars_ of our state, enumerating all\nour wants, infirmities, and disorders; not because God needs to be\ninformed of them, but because by this means we inform ourselves, and\nmake our hearts in the best manner acquainted with our true condition.\nWhen our prayers thus descend to all the circumstances of our\ncondition, they become a faithful glass to us; and so often as we\npray, so often we see ourselves in a true light.\n\nDon\u2019t be content therefore with confessing yourself to be a _sinner_,\nor with praying against sin in _general_: for this will but a little\naffect your mind; it will only shew you to yourself in such a state\nas all mankind are in: but if you find yourself out; if you confess\nand lay open the guilt of your own _particular sins_; if you pray\nconstantly against such particular sins as you find yourself most\nsubject to, the _frequent sight_ of your own sins, and your _constant\ndeploring_ of their guilt, will give your prayers entrance into your\nhearts, and put you upon measures how to amend.\n\nIf you confess yourself only to be a _sinner_, you confess yourself\nto be a _man_; but when you describe and confess your _own particular_\nguilt, then you find cause for your own _particular sorrow_; then\nyou give your prayers all the power they can have to affect and wound\nyour heart. In like manner, when you pray for God\u2019s grace, don\u2019t be\nsatisfied with a general petition, but make your prayers suitable to\nyour defects; and continue to ask for such gifts and graces of the\nHoly Spirit as you find yourself most defective in: for this will give\nlife to your petitions, and make your heart go along with them.\n\n\nXVI. Lastly, this particularity in our prayers is the greatest trial\nof the _truth_ of our hearts. A man perhaps thinks he prays for\nhumility, because he has the word _humility_ in his prayers; but if\nhe was to branch out humility into all its _particular parts_, he\nwould perhaps find himself not disposed to pray for them. If he was\nto represent to himself the several particulars which make a man _poor\nin spirit_, he would find his heart not desirous of them. So that the\nonly way to know our hearts, and whether we really pray for any virtue,\nis to have all its parts in our prayers, and to ask for it in all its\ninstances. If the _proud_ man was to pray daily for humility in all\nits kinds, and to beg of God to remove him from all occasions of _such\npride_, as is common to his _particular state_, and to disappoint him\nin all his attempts that were contrary to humility, he would find that\nsuch prayers would either conquer his pride, or his pride would put\nan end to his prayers. For it would be impossible to live long in any\ninstances of pride, if his daily and frequent prayers were petitions\nagainst those particular instances.\n\n\nXVII. Let me now only add this one word more, that he who has learned\n_to pray_, has learned the greatest secret of a holy and happy life.\nWhich way soever else we let loose our hearts, they will return unto\nus again _empty_ and _weary_. Time will convince the _vainest_ and\n_blindest_ minds, that happiness is no more to be found in the things\nof this world, than it is to be dug out of the earth. But when the\nmotions of our hearts are motions of piety, tending to God in constant\nacts of devotion, then have we found rest unto our souls; then is\nit that we have conquered the misery of our nature: and neither love\nnor desire in vain: then is it that we have found out a good that\nis equal to all our wants: that is, a constant source of comfort and\nrefreshment, that will fill us with peace and joyful expectations\nhere, and eternal happiness hereafter. For he that lives in the spirit\nof devotion, whose heart is always full of God, lives at the _top_\nof human happiness, and is the farthest from all the vanities and\nvexations which disturb the minds of men devoted to the world.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n _All Christians are required to imitate the life and example\n of Jesus Christ._\n\n\nI. OUR religion teaches us, that as we have _borne the image of the\nearthly, so we shall bear the image of the heavenly_; that after our\ndeath we shall rise to a state of life and happiness, like to that\nlife and happiness which our blessed Saviour enjoys at the right hand\nof God. Since therefore we are to be fellow-heirs with Christ, it is\nnot to be wondered at, that we are to be like Christ in this life,\nthat we may enter into that state of happiness which he enjoys in the\nkingdom of heaven.\n\n\nII. Not that we are called to the same outward manner of life with his;\nbut to the same spirit and temper, which was the spirit and temper\nof our blessed Saviour. We are to be like him in heart, to act by the\n_same rule_, to look towards the _same end_, and to govern our lives\nby the _same spirit_. This is an imitation of Jesus Christ which is\nas necessary to salvation as it is to believe in his name. This is the\nsole end of all the doctrines of Christ, to make us like himself, to\nfill us with his _spirit_ and _temper_, and make us live according to\nthe rule and manner of his life. As no doctrines are true, but such\nas are according to the doctrines of Christ, so no life is right, but\nsuch as is according to the life of Christ. For he lived as infallibly\nas he taught; and it is as wrong to vary from his example, as from his\ndoctrines. To live as he lived, is as certainly the one way of living\nas we ought, as to believe as he taught is the one way of believing\nas we ought. There is no other way besides this; nothing can possibly\nbring us to God in heaven, unless we are now one with Christ, and walk\nas he also walked. For we may as well expect to go to a heaven where\nChrist is not, as to go to that where he is, without his spirit and\ntemper. If Christians would but suffer themselves to reflect upon this,\ntheir own minds would soon convince them of it. For who can find the\nleast reason, why he should not imitate the life of Christ? Or why\nChristians should think of any other rule of life? It would be as easy\nto shew that Christ acted amiss, as that we need not act after his\nexample.\n\n\nIII. If it should be said, that Jesus was the _Saviour_ of the world,\nthat he was born to redeem mankind, and was the _Son of_ God. It may\nbe answered, that this does not make the life of Christ to be less the\n_rule_ and _model_ of all Christians. For, as I observed before, it is\nthe spirit and _temper_ of Christ that all Christians are to imitate;\nthey are to do their _proper work_ in that spirit and temper, in which\nChrist did the work on which he was sent. So that although Christians\nare not redeemers of the world, as he was; though they have not that\ngreat work to finish which he had; yet they have _their_ work to do\nin the manner that he had _his_; they have their part to act, which\nthough it be a different part, must not be performed with a different\nspirit; but with such obedience to God, such regard to his glory, and\nall such holy dispositions, as our blessed Saviour manifested in every\npart of his life.\n\n\nIV. The blessed Jesus came into the world to save the world. Now we\nmust enter into this same design, and make _salvation_ the business of\nour lives. And though we cannot contribute towards it like him, yet we\nmust contribute all that we can, and make the salvation of ourselves\nand others the one care of our lives.\n\nThe _poor widow\u2019s mites_ were but a small matter in themselves, yet\nas they were the utmost she could give, our blessed Saviour set them\nabove the larger contributions of the rich. This may encourage people\nin every state of life to be contented with their _capacity_ of doing\ngood, provided they act up to it. Let no one think that he is too low,\ntoo mean and private to follow his Lord in the salvation of souls.\nLet him but add his mite, and if it be all that he hath, he shall\nbe thought to have done much. Not that all are to be preachers and\nteachers of religion, no more than all are to be _apostles_, or all\n_prophets_, or all _workers of miracles_. Christians are like members\nof one and the same body; they are as different from one another, as\nhands and eyes, and have as different offices; yet may their different\nparts promote the same common end. As _the eye cannot say to the\nhand, I have no need of thee; nor again, the head to the feet, I have\nno need of you_\u00b9; so neither can the learned teacher say he hath no\nneed of the private, unlearned person. For the work of salvation is\ncarried on by all hands, as well by him that is taught, as by him that\nteacheth. An _unlearned_ person, by being desirous of instruction, and\ncareful to comply with it, may promote salvation as truly, in a degree,\nas he that is able and willing to instruct. This teachable disposition\nmay as effectually influence others as another man\u2019s ability and care\nof teaching. Therefore, though, as the apostle saith, all have _not\nthe gift of healing_, though all do not _speak with tongues_, yet all\nhave _some part_ that they may act in the salvation of mankind, and\nmay follow their Lord and Master in the great work, for which he came\ndown from heaven: we must not then think, that it is the business of\n_clergymen_ only to carry on the work of salvation; but must remember,\nthat we are engaged in the same business, though not in the same\nmanner.\n\n \u00b9 1 Cor. xii. 2.\n\n\nV. Had the _poor widow_ thought herself excused from taking care\nof the treasury; had she thought it belonged only to the _rich_ to\ncontribute to it, she had lost that great commendation which our\nSaviour bestowed upon her. Now, it may be that some widows are so very\npoor, as not to have so much as a _mite_ to give to the treasury, who\nmust therefore content themselves with the charity of their hearts;\nbut this can never happen in the business of salvation. Here no one\ncan be so poor, as not to have a _mite_ to contribute towards it. For\nno circumstances of life can hinder us from being _examples_ of piety,\nand making our lives a _lesson_ of instruction to all that are about\nus. And he that lives an exemplary life though his state be ever so\n_poor_ and _mean_, is largely contributing to the salvation of others,\nand proving himself the _best_ follower of his Lord and Master.\n\n\nVI. This therefore is the first great instance in which we are to\nfollow the example and spirit of our blessed Saviour. He came to save\nthe world: we must all consider ourselves as called to carry on this\n_great work_. For how can we think ourselves to be his _followers_,\nif we do not follow him in that for which he came into the world? How\ncan we be like the Saviour of the world, unless the _salvation_ of the\nworld be our constant care? We cannot save the world as he saved it,\nbut we can contribute our mite towards it. _How knowest thou, O wife,\nwhether thou shalt save thine husband? Or how knowest thou, O man,\nwhether thou shalt save thy wife\u00b9?_ This shews plainly, that _all\npersons_ may have a share in the salvation of those that are near\nthem, and that they are to consider themselves as expresly called to\nthis great work. For the apostle uses it as the same argument both to\nhusband and wife; which supposes that it is a business in which one\nis as much concerned as the other. The _woman_ we know is not allowed\nto speak in the _church_, yet is she entrusted with _some share_ in\nthe salvation of the world; she is supposed equally capable of saving\nthe husband, as the husband of saving the wife. Now what is here said\nof husband and wife, we must extend to every _state_ and relation;\n_brothers_ and _sisters_, _friends_ and _neighbours_, must all\nconsider themselves as called to the salvation of one another. How\nknowest thou, O _sister_, whether thou shalt save thy _brother_?\nHow knowest thou, O _man_, whether thou shalt save thy _neighbour_?\nIs a way of thinking that ought never to be out of our minds. For\nthis would make brothers and sisters bear with one another, if they\nconsider, that they are to do that for one another which Christ hath\ndone for the whole world. This reflection would turn our anger toward\nbad relations into care and tenderness for their souls; we should\nnot be glad to get away from them, but give them more of our company,\nand be more exact in our behaviour towards them; always supposing it\npossible, that our _good conversation_ may some time or other affect\nthem, and that God may make use of us as a means of their salvation.\n\n \u00b9 1 Cor. vii. 16.\n\n\nVII. *_Eutropius_ is very good and pious himself; but then his fault\nis, that he seeks only the conversation of pious and good people. He\nis careful and exact in his behaviour towards his virtuous friends;\nalways studying to oblige them; but gets away from and avoids\nthose that are of another temper. Now _Eutropius_ should recollect,\nthat this is acting like a _physician_ that would take care of the\n_healthy_, and disregard those that are _sick_. He should remember,\nthat his irreligious friends and relations are the very persons that\nare fallen to his care; and that he is as directly called to take care\nof their salvation, as the husband to take care of the unbelieving\nwife. _Eutropius_ therefore, if he would imitate his Lord and Master,\nmust apply to the _lost sheep of the house of Israel_, and endeavour\nby all the innocent arts of pleasing his friends, to gain them to\nrepentance. We must not excuse ourselves from this care, by saying\nthat our relations are obstinate, hardened, and careless; but must\nsupport ourselves with the apostle\u2019s argument, How knowest thou, O\nman, whether thou mayst not at last save thy relation?\n\n\nVIII. The apostle saith, _destroy not him with thy meat, for whom\nChrist died_\u00b9. We may therefore justly reason thus, that as it lies\nmuch in our power to hinder the salvation, so it must, to promote the\nsalvation of those for whom Christ died. Destroy not therefore by thy\nnegligence, by thy impatience, by thy want of care, that relation for\nwhom Christ died; nor think that thou hast done enough, till there is\nno more that thou canst do. This is the state in which all Christians\nare appointed by God in their several stations; to carry on that great\nwork, for which Christ came into the world. _Clergymen_ are not the\nonly men that have a _cure_ of souls, but every Christian has some\npeople about him, whose salvation he is obliged to be careful of; with\nwhom he is to live in all godliness and purity, that they may have the\nbenefit of his example and assistance in their duty to God. So that\nall Christians, though ever so _low_, and _mean_, and _private_, must\nconsider themselves as _hired_ by Christ to work in his vineyard; for\nas no circumstances of life can hinder us from saving ourselves, so\nneither can they hinder us from promoting the salvation of others. And\nthough we have, according to our different stations, different parts\nto act; yet if we are careful of that part which is fallen to our\nshare, we are equally objects of God\u2019s favour.\n\n \u00b9 Rom. xiv. 15.\n\nThou, it may be, art not a _prophet_; God has not honoured thee with\nthis post in his service; yet needest thou not fall short of this\nhappiness: for our Saviour hath said, _He that receiveth a prophet,\nin the name of a prophet, shall receive a prophet\u2019s reward_. Now this\nshews us, that though all men have not the same part to act in the\ncommon salvation, yet none will be losers by that state they are in,\nif they be but true to the particular duties of it. If they do all the\ngood they can in their _particular state_, they will be looked upon\nwith such acceptance as the _poor widow_ that gave all that she had.\n\n\nIX. *Hence we may learn the greatness of their folly, who, neglecting\nthe exact performance of such duties as fall within their power, are\npleasing themselves with the great things they would do, were they but\nin another state.\n\n_Clemens_ has his head full of imaginary piety. He is often proposing\nto himself what he would do if he had a great estate. He would outdo\nall charitable men that are gone before him: he would retire from\nthe world; he would have no equipage; he would allow himself only\nnecessaries, that widows and orphans, the sick and distressed, might\nfind relief out of his estate. He tells you, that all other ways of\nspending an estate is folly and madness.\n\nNow _Clemens_ has at present a moderate estate, which he spends upon\nhimself, in the same vanities and indulgences as other people do.\nHe might live upon one third of his fortune, and make the rest the\nsupport of the poor; but he does nothing of all this that is in his\npower, but pleases himself with what he would do if his power was\ngreater. Come to thy senses, _Clemens_; do not talk what thou wouldest\ndo, if thou wast an _angel_, but consider what thou canst do, as\nthou art a _man_. Make the best use of thy _present state_; do now\nas thou thinkest thou wouldest do with a great estate; be _sparing_,\n_deny_ thyself, abstain from all vanities, that the poor may be better\nmaintained, and then thou art as charitable as thou canst be in any\nestate. Remember the poor _widow\u2019s mite_.\n\n_Fervidus_ is exact in the duties of religion; but then the greatness\nof his zeal to be doing things that he cannot, makes him overlook\nthose little ways of doing good which are every day in his power.\n_Fervidus_ is only sorry that he is not in holy orders, and that his\nlife is not spent in a business the most desirable of all things in\nthe world. He is often thinking what reformation he would make in\nthe world, if he was a _priest_ or a _bishop_; he would have devoted\nhimself wholly to God and religion, and have had no other care but\nhow to save souls. But do not believe yourself, _Fervidus_; for if you\ndesired in earnest to be a _clergyman_, that you might devote yourself\nentirely to the salvation of others, why are you not doing all you can\nin the state you are now in? Would you take extraordinary care of a\n_parish_, or a _diocese_, why then are you not as extraordinary in the\ncare of a family? If you think the care of other peoples salvation to\nbe the happiest business in the world, why do you neglect the care of\nthose that are fallen into your hands? Why do you shew no concern for\nthe souls of your servants? If they do their business for which you\nhired them, you never trouble your head about their Christianity. Nay,\n_Fervidus_, you are so far from labouring to make those that are about\nyou truly devout and holy, that you almost put it out of their power\nto be so. You hire a _coachman_ to carry you to church, and to sit in\nthe street with your _horses_, whilst you are attending divine service.\nYou never ask him how he supplies the loss of divine service, or what\nmeans he takes to preserve himself in a state of piety. You imagine\nthat if you was a _clergyman_, you would be ready to lay down your\nlife for your flock; yet you cannot lay aside a _little state_ to\npromote the salvation of your servants. It is not desired of you,\n_Fervidus_, to die a _martyr_ for your brethren; you are only required\nto go to _church_ on foot, to spare some _state_ and _attendance_, to\nbear sometimes with a little _rain_ and _dirt_, rather than keep those\nsouls which are as dear to God and Christ as yours is, from their\n_full share_ in the common worship of Christians. Do but deny yourself\nsuch small matters as these; let us but see that you can take the\nleast trouble to make all your servants and dependants true servants\nof God, then you shall be allowed to imagine what good you would have\ndone had you been devoted to the altar.\n\n\nX. *_Eugenia_ is a young woman, full of pious dispositions; she is\nintending, if ever she has a family, to be the _best mistress_ of\nit that ever was; her house shall be a _school_ of religion, and her\nchildren and servants shall be brought up in the strictest piety; she\nwill spend her time, and live in a very different manner from the rest\nof the world. It may be so, _Eugenia_; you think you intend all this:\nbut you are not yet at the head of a family, and perhaps never may\nbe. But _Eugenia_, you have now one maid, and you do not know what\nreligion she is of; she dresses you for the church; you ask her for\nwhat you want, and then leave her to have as little Christianity as\nshe pleases. You turn her away; you hire another; she comes, and goes,\nno more instructed, or edified in religion, by living with you than if\nshe had lived with any body else. And this comes to pass, because your\nmind is taken up with greater things, and you reserve yourself to make\na whole family religious, if ever you come to be head of it. You need\nnot stay, _Eugenia_, to be so extraordinary a person; the opportunity\nis now in your hands; you may now spend your time, and live in as\ndifferent a manner from the rest of the world, as ever you can in any\nother state. Your _maid_ is your family at present; she is under your\ncare; be now that religious governess that you intend to be; teach\nher the _catechism_, hear her read, exhort her to pray, take her with\nyou to church, persuade her to love the divine service as you love\nit; and spare no pains to make her as devout as yourself. When you do\nthus much good in your present state, then you are that extraordinary\nperson you intend to be; and till you thus live up to your present\nstate, there is but little hopes that the altering your state will\nalter your way of life.\n\n\nXI. *There is no falseness of our hearts that leads us into greater\nerrors, than imagining, that we shall some time or other be better\nthan we are, or need be now: for _perfection_ has no dependance upon\n_external_ circumstances; it wants no _times_ or _opportunities_;\nbut is then in its highest state, when we are making the _best use_\nof that condition in which we are placed. The _poor widow_ did not\nstay till she was _rich_ before she contributed to the treasury; she\nreadily brought her mite; and, little as it was, it got her the reward\nand commendation of great charity. We must therefore all imitate\nthe wisdom of the poor widow, and exercise every virtue in the same\nmanner that she exercised her charity. We must stay for no time or\nopportunities, wait for no _change_ of _life_, or _fancied abilities_,\nbut remember that every time is a time for piety and perfection. Every\nthing but piety has its hindrances; but piety, the more it is hindered\nthe higher it is raised. Let us therefore not vainly say, that if we\nhad lived in our Saviour\u2019s days, we would have followed him; or that\nif we could work miracles, we would devote ourselves to his glory. For,\nto follow Christ in our present state, and to do all that we are able\nfor his glory, is as acceptable to him, as if we were working miracles\nin his name.\n\n\nXII. When our blessed Saviour was upon the cross, he thus prayed for\nhis enemies, _Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do_\u00b9.\nNow all Christians readily acknowledge that this temper of Christ is\nto be the _exact rule_ of our temper on the like occasion; that we\nare not to fall short of it, but must be perfectly like Christ in this\ncharity towards our murderers. But then perhaps they do not enough\nconsider, that for the very same reason, every other temper of Christ,\nis as much the _exact rule_ of all Christians as his temper towards\nhis murderers. For we are to be thus disposed towards our persecutors\nand murderers, because Christ was so disposed towards his. And is it\nnot as good an argument, that we are to be so and so disposed towards\nthe world, and all worldly enjoyments, because Christ was so disposed\ntowards them? He was as right in one case as the other, and no more\nerred in his temper towards _worldly things_, than in his temper\ntowards his _enemies_. Should we not fail to be good Christians, if\nwe fell short of that forgiving spirit, which the blessed Jesus shewed\nupon the cross? And shall we not equally fail to be good Christians,\nif we fall short of that humble and meek spirit which he shewed in all\nhis life?\n\n \u00b9 Luke xxiii. 34.\n\n\nXIII. The short of the matter is this, the spirit and temper of Christ\nis the _strict measure_ of the Spirit and temper of all Christians.\nIt is not in this or that particular temper of Christ, that we are to\nfollow his example; but we are to aspire after his whole spirit, to\nbe in all things as he was, and think it as dangerous to depart from\nhis Spirit and temper in one instance as in another. For besides that\nthere is the same authority in all that our Saviour did, which obliges\nus to conform to his whole example. Can any one tell why we should\nhave more value for this world than our Saviour had? What is there\nin our _state_ and _circumstances_, that can make it proper for us to\nhave more affection for the things of this life than our Saviour had?\nIs the world any more our _happiness_, than it was his happiness? Are\nriches, and honours, and pleasures, any more our _proper good_, than\nthey were his? Are we any more born for this life than our Saviour\nwas? Are we in less danger of being _corrupted_ by its enjoyments than\nhe was? Are we more at leisure to take up _our rest_, and spend our\ntime in worldly satisfactions than he was? Have we a work upon our\nhands that we can _more easily finish_, than he could finish his? That\nrequires of us less _mortification_ and _self-denial_, less _devotion_\nand _watching_, than our Saviour\u2019s required of him? Now as nothing of\nthis can be said; as this world is as little our happiness, and more\nour danger than it was his; as we have a work to finish that requires\n_all our strength_, it is plain there was no reason for his disregard\nof the world, but what is the same reason for us to disregard it in\nthe same manner.\n\n\nXIV. Take another instance of our blessed Saviour\u2019s Spirit, _I came\ndown from heaven_ (says he) _not to do mine own will, but the will of\nhim that sent me_\u00b9.\n\n \u00b9 John vi. 38.\n\nAnd again, _My meat and drink is to do the will of him that sent me_.\nNow, can any Christian shew, why he may think otherwise of himself,\nthan our Saviour here thought? Or that he need be _less devoted_\nto the glory of God than he was? What is there in our nature and\n_condition_ to make any difference of this kind? Or can any thing\nelse be the happiness of our nature, but that which was the happiness\nof his? Was he a _loser_? Did he leave the true happiness of _human\nlife_, by devoting himself to the will of God? Or can this be our case,\ntho\u2019 it was not his? *Can we be _losers_ by looking to God _alone_,\nand _devoting_ ourselves to his glory? Was it not the greatness and\nhappiness of our Saviour that he lived to God alone? And is there\nany other greatness or happiness for us? We may as well seek out for\nanother God, as for another happiness, or another way to it, than\nthat in which Christ is gone before us. He did not mistake the nature\nof _man_, or the nature of the _world_; he did not overlook any _real\nfelicity_, or pass by any _solid good_; he only made the best use\nof human life; and his spirit and temper is as _necessary_ for our\ncondition as it was for his. For this world, and all the things of the\nworld, signify as _little_ to us as they did to him. We are no more\nin our _true state_, till we are got out of this world, than he was;\nand we have no way to arrive at true felicity and greatness, but by\nso _devoting_ ourselves to God as our blessed Saviour did. We must\ntherefore make it the business, and aim of our lives, to be like\nChrist: and this not in a _loose_ or _general_ way, but with great\n_nicety_ and _exactness_, always looking to his _spirit_, to his\n_ends_ and _designs_, to his _tempers_, to his ways and conversation\nin the world, as the exact _model_ and _rule_ of ours.\n\n\n\u2666XVI. Again, _Learn of me_, (saith our blessed Saviour) _for I am meek\nand lowly in heart_.\n\n \u2666 Number XV. omitted in text.\n\n*It ought to be observed, that there must be something very\n_extraordinary_ in these dispositions, from the manner in which we are\ntaught them. It is only in this place, that our Saviour says expresly,\n_Learn of me_; and when he says, _Learn of me_, he does not say, for\nI am just and equitable, or kind, or holy, but _I am meek and lowly in\nheart_; as if he would teach us, that these are the tempers which most\nof all _distinguish_ his Spirit, and which he most of all requires\nhis followers to learn of him. For consider, does Christ, when he\ndescribes himself, chuse to do it by _these tempers_? When he calls\nupon us to learn of him, does he only mention _these tempers_? And is\nnot this a sufficient proof that these are tempers which the followers\nof Christ are most of all obliged to learn; and that we are then most\n_unlike_ to Christ, when we are wanting in them? Now as our great Lord\nand Master has made these characters the _distinguishing_ characters\nof his Spirit, it is plain that they are to be the _distinguishing_\ncharacters of our spirit; for we are only so far his, as we are like\nhim. Consider also, was he _more lowly_ than he need have been? Did he\npractise any degrees of humility that were _unnecessary_? This can no\nmore be said, than he can be charged with folly. But can there be any\ninstances of lowliness which became him, that are not necessary for\nus? Does our state and condition excuse us from any kind of humility\nthat was necessary for him? Are we higher in our nature, more raised\nin our condition, or more in the favour of God than he was? Are\nthere _dignities_, _honours_, and _ornaments_ of life, which we may\ndelight in, tho\u2019 he might not? We must own these absurdities, or else\nacknowledge that we are to breathe the same _lowly spirit_, act with\nthe _same meekness_, and practise the _same humble_ behaviour that he\ndid. So that the matter comes plainly to this conclusion, either that\nChrist was more humble than his nature and condition required, or we\nare under a necessity of the same humility, till we can prove, that we\nare in a higher state than he was.\n\n\nXVII. We see the height of our calling; that we are called to follow\nthe example of our Lord and Master, and to go thro\u2019 this world with\nhis Spirit and temper. Now nothing is so likely a means to fill us\nwith his Spirit and temper, as to be frequent in reading the _gospels_,\nwhich contain the history of his life and conversation in the world.\nWe are apt to think, that we have sufficiently read a book, when we\nhave so read it, as to know what it contains. This reading may be\nsufficient as to many books: but as to the _gospels_, we are not to\nthink that we have read them enough, because we have often read and\nheard what they contain: but we must read them as we do our _prayers_,\nnot to know what they contain, but to fill our hearts with the spirit\nof them. There is as much difference betwixt reading and reading,\nas there is betwixt praying and praying: and as no one prays well,\nbut he that is daily and constant in prayer; so no one can read\nthe scriptures to advantage, but he that is constant in the reading\nof them. By thus conversing with our blessed Lord; looking into\nhis actions and manner of life; hearing his divine sayings; his\nheavenly instructions; his accounts of the terrors of the damned; his\ndescriptions of the glory of the righteous, we should find our hearts\nformed and disposed _to hunger and thirst after righteousness_. Happy\nthey who saw the Son of God upon earth converting sinners, and calling\n_fallen spirits_ to return to God! And next happy are we, who have his\ndiscourses, doctrines, actions, and miracles, which then converted\n_Jews_ and Heathens into _saints_ and _martyrs_, still preserved to\nfill us with the same heavenly light, and bring us to the same state\nof glory!\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n _An exhortation to Christian perfection._\n\n\nI. WHOEVER hath read the foregoing chapters with attention, is, I hope,\nsufficiently instructed in the knowledge of Christian perfection. He\nhath seen that it requireth us to _devote_ ourselves _wholly_ unto\nGod; to make the ends and designs of religion, the ends and designs\nof all our actions; that it calleth us to be _born again of_ God; to\nlive by the light of his Holy Spirit; to _renounce the world_, and all\n_worldly tempers_; to practise a constant _universal self-denial_; to\nmake daily war with the corruption of our nature; to shew the power\nof _divine grace_, by holiness of conversation; to avoid all pleasures\nand cares which _grieve the Holy Spirit_, and separate him from us; to\nlive in a _daily, constant state_ of prayer and devotion; and, as the\ncrown of all, to imitate the _life and Spirit_ of the Holy Jesus.\n\n\nII. *It now only remains that I exhort the reader to labour after\nthis perfection. Was I to exhort any one to the study of _poetry_ or\n_eloquence_, to labour to be _rich_ and _great_, or to spend his time\nin _mathematics_, or other learning, I could only produce such reasons\nas are fit to delude the vanity of men, who are ready to be taken\nwith any appearance of excellence. For if the same person was to ask\nme, what it signifies to be a _poet_ or _eloquent_, what advantage\nit would be to him, to be a great _mathematician_, or a great\n_statesman_, I must be forced to answer, that these things would\nsignify just as much to him, as they now signify to those poets,\norators, mathematicians, and statesmen, whose bodies have been a long\nwhile lost among common dust. For if a man will be so thoughtful as to\nput the question to every human enjoyment, and ask what real good it\nwould bring along with it, he would soon find, that every success in\nthe things of this life, leaves us just in the same state of want and\nemptiness in which it found us. If a man asks why he should labour to\nbe the first _mathematician_, _orator_, or _statesman_, the answer is\neasily given, because of the _fame_ and _honour_ of such a distinction;\nbut if he was to ask again, why he should thirst after fame and honour,\nor what good they would do him, he must stay long enough for an answer.\nFor when we are at the _top_ of all human attainments, we are still at\nthe _bottom_ of all human misery, and have made no farther advancement\ntowards true happiness, than those whom we see in the want of all\nthese excellencies. Whether a man die before he has writ _poems_,\ncompiled _histories_, or raised an _estate_, signifies no more than\nwhether he died an hundred or a thousand years ago.\n\n\nIII. On the contrary, when any one is exhorted to labour after\nChristian perfection, if he then asks what good it will do him, the\nanswer is ready, that it would do him a good which eternity only can\nmeasure; that it will deliver him from a state of vanity and misery:\nthat it will raise him from the poor enjoyments of an animal life;\nthat it will give him a glorious body, carry him, in spite of death\nand the grave, to live with God, be glorious among angels and heavenly\nbeings, and be full of an infinite happiness to all eternity. If\ntherefore we could but make men so reasonable, as to make the shortest\nenquiry into the nature of things, we should have no occasion to\nexhort them to strive after Christian perfection. _Two questions_ we\nsee put an end to all the vain projects of human life; they are all\nso empty and useless to our happiness, that they cannot stand the\ntrial of a _second_ question. And, on the other hand, \u2019tis but asking,\nwhether Christian perfection tends: and one single thought upon the\neternal happiness it leads to, is sufficient to make people _saints_.\n\n\nIV. This shews us how inexcusable all Christians are, who are devoted\nto the things of this life. It is not because they want _fine parts_,\nor are unable to make _deep reflections_; but it is because they\nreject the first principles of _common sense_; they won\u2019t so much as\nask what those things are which they are labouring after. Did they but\nuse thus much reason, we need not desire them to be wiser, in order\nto seek only eternal happiness. As a shadow at the first trial of the\nhand appears to have no substance; so all human enjoyments sink away\ninto nothing at the first approach of a _serious_ thought. We must not\ntherefore complain of the deceitful appearances of worldly enjoyments,\nbecause the lowest degree of reason, if listened to, is sufficient to\ndiscover the cheat. If you will, you may _blindly_ do what the rest of\nthe world are doing; you may follow the _cry_, and run yourself out of\n_breath_ for you know not what: but if you will but shew so much sense,\nas to ask why you should take such a chace, you will need no deeper\na reflection than this to make you leave the broad way; and let the\nwise and learned, the rich and great, be mad by themselves. Thus much\ncommon sense will turn your eyes towards God, will separate you from\nall the appearances of worldly felicity, and fill you with one only\nambition after eternal happiness.\n\n\nV. Suppose _strict sobriety_ was the sole end of man, the necessary\ncondition of happiness, what would you think of those people, who,\nknowing and believing this to be true, should yet spend their time\nin getting quantities of all sorts of the _strongest liquors_? What\nwould you think if you saw them constantly enlarging their _cellars_,\nfilling every room with _drams_, and contending who should have the\nlargest quantities of the strongest liquors? Now this is the folly\nand madness of Christians; they are as wise and reasonable, as they\nare who are always providing strong liquors, in order to be _strictly\nsober_. For all the enjoyments of human life, which Christians\nso aspire after, whether of _riches_, _greatness_, _honours_, or\n_pleasures_, are as much the dangers and temptations of a Christian,\nas strong and pleasant liquors are the temptations of a man that\nis to drink only water. Now if you was to ask such a man, why he is\ncontinually increasing his stock of liquors, when he is to abstain\nfrom them all, and only to drink water, he can give you as good a\nreason, as those Christians, who spare no pains to acquire riches,\ngreatness, and pleasures, at the same time that their salvation\ndepends upon their renouncing them all, upon their heavenly-mindedness,\nhumility, and constant self-denial.\n\n\nVI. But it may be you are not devoted to these things; you have\na greater soul than to be taken with _riches_, _equipage_, or the\n_pageantry_ of state; you are deeply engaged in _learning_ and\n_sciences_.\n\nYou are squaring the _circle_, or settling the distances of the\n_stars_, or busy in the study of _exotic plants_.\n\nYou are comparing the ancient languages, have made deep discoveries\nin the change of _letters_, and perhaps know how to write an\n_inscription_ in as obscure characters as if you had lived above two\nthousand years ago: or, perhaps you are meditating upon the _Heathen\ntheology_, collecting the history of their _Gods_ and _Goddesses_; or,\nyou are scanning some ancient _Greek_ or _Roman_ poet, and making an\nexact collection of their _scattered_ remains, _scraps_ of sentences,\nand _broken_ words.\n\nYou are not exposing your life in the field like a mad _Alexander_ or\n_C\u00e6sar_; but you are fighting over all their battles in your _study_;\nyou are collecting the names of their _generals_, the number of their\ntroops, the manner of their arms, and can give the world a more exact\naccount of the times, places, and circumstances of their battles, than\nhas yet been seen.\n\n\nVII. You will perhaps ask, whether these are not very commendable\nenquiries? An excellent use of our time and parts? Whether people may\nnot be very reasonably exhorted to these kind of studies? It may be\nanswered, that all enquiries (however learned they may be reckoned)\nwhich do not improve the mind in some useful knowledge, that do not\nmake us wise in _religious wisdom_, are to be reckoned amongst our\ngreatest vanities and follies. All speculations that will not stand\nthis trial, are to be looked upon as the wanderings and impertinencies\nof a _disordered understanding_.\n\nIt is strange want of thought to imagine, that an enquiry is ever the\nbetter, because it is taken up in _Greek_ and _Latin_. Why is it not\nas wise and reasonable for a _scholar_ to dwell in the _kitchen_ and\nconverse with _cooks_, as to go into his study, to meditate upon the\n_Roman_ art of _cookery_, and learn their variety of _sauces_?\n\n*A grave _doctor_ in divinity would perhaps think his time very ill\nemployed, that he was acting below his character, if he was to be an\n_amanuensis_ to some _modern poet_. Why then does he think it suitable\nwith the weight of his calling, to have been a _drudge_ to some\n_ancient poet_, counting his syllables for several years, only to help\nthe world to read what some _irreligious_, _wanton_, or _epicurean_\npoet has wrote?\n\nIt is certainly a much more reasonable employment to be making\n_cloaths_, than to spend one\u2019s time in reading or writing volumes upon\nthe _Grecian_ or _Roman_ garments.\n\n\nVIII. If you can shew me a learning that makes man truly sensible\nof his duty, that fills the mind with _true light_, that reforms\nthe heart, that disposes it right towards God, that makes us more\n_reasonable_ in all our actions; that inspires us with _fortitude_,\n_humility_, _devotion_, and contempt of the _world_: that gives\nus right notions of the _greatness_ of religion, the _sanctity_ of\nmorality, the _littleness_ of every thing but God, the _vanity_ of\nour passions, and the misery and corruption of our nature, I will\nown myself an advocate for such learning. But to think that time is\nwell employed, because it is spent in such speculations as the vulgar\ncannot reach, or because they are fetched from antiquity, or found in\n_Greek_ or _Latin_, is a folly that may be called as great as any in\nhuman life.\n\nThey who think that these enquiries are consistent with a heart\n_entirely devoted_ to God, have not enough considered human nature;\nthey would do well to consult our Saviour\u2019s rebuke of _Martha_. She\ndid not seem to have wandered far from her proper business; she was\nnot busy in the history of _house-wifery_, or enquiring into the\n_original of the distaff_; she was only taken up with present affairs,\nand _cumbered about much serving_: but our blessed Saviour said unto\nher, _Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things.\nBut one thing is needful._\n\nNow if _scholars_ and _divines_ can shew, that they only apply to such\nstudies as are serviceable to the _one thing needful_; if they are\nbusy in a philosophy and learning that have a necessary connection\nwith the devotion of the heart to God, such learning becomes the\nfollowers of Christ; but, if they trifle in _Greek_ and _Latin_, and\nonly assist other people to follow them in the same impertinence, such\nlearning may be reckoned amongst the corruptions of the age. For all\nthe arguments against _pride_, _covetousness_, and _vanity_, are as\ngood arguments against _such learning_; it being the same irreligion\nto be devoted to any false _learning_, as to be devoted to any other\n_false good_.\n\nA satisfaction in any vain ornaments of the body, whether of _cloaths_\nor _paint_, is no greater a mistake, than a satisfaction in the _vain\naccomplishments_ of the mind.\n\n\nIX. A man that is eager and laborious in the search and study of\nthat which does him _no good_, is the same poor, little soul, as\nthe _miser_ who is happy in his _bags_ that are laid by in dust. A\nridiculous application of our _money_, _time_, and _understanding_, is\nthe same fault, whether it be found amongst the finery of _fops_, the\nhoards of _misers_, or the trinkets of _virtuoso_\u2019s. It is the same\nfalse turn of mind, the same mistake of the use of things, the same\nignorance of the state of man, and the same offence against religion.\n\n*When we see a man brooding over _bags_ of wealth, and labouring to\ndie _rich_, we do not only accuse him of a poor littleness of mind;\nbut we charge him with great guilt; we do not allow such a one to be\nin a state of religion. Let us therefore suppose that this covetous\nman was on a sudden changed into another temper; that he was grown\n_polite_ and _curious_; that he was fond and eager after the most\nuseless things, if they were but _ancient_ and _scarce_; let us\nsuppose that he is now as greedy of _original paintings_, as he was\nbefore of _money_; that he will give more for a _dog\u2019s head_, or\na _snuff_ of a candle done by a good _hand_, than he ever gave in\ncharity all his life; is he a wiser man, or a better Christian than\nhe was before? Has he more overcome the world, or is he more devoted\nto God, than when his soul was locked up with his money? Alas! his\nheart is in the same false satisfaction; he is in the same state\nof ignorance, is as far from the true good, as much separated from\nGod, as he whose soul is cleaving to the dust; he lives in the same\nvanity, and must die in the same misery, as he that lives and dies in\n_foppery_ or covetousness.\n\n\nX. Here therefore I place my argument for _Christian perfection_.\nI exhort thee to labour after it, because there is nothing else for\nthee to labour after; there is nothing else that the reason of man can\nexhort thee to. The whole world has nothing to offer thee in its stead;\nchuse what other way thou wilt, thou hast chosen nothing but vanity\nand misery; for all the different ways of the world are only different\nways of deluding thyself: this only excells that as one vanity can\nexcel another. If thou wilt make thyself more happy than those who\npursue their own destruction, if thou wilt shew thyself wiser than\n_fops_, more reasonable than _sordid misers_, thou must pursue that\nhappiness, and study that wisdom which leads to God; for every other\npursuit, every other way of life, however _polite_ or _plausible_\nin the opinion of the world, has a folly and stupidity in it that is\nequal to the folly and stupidity of _fops_ and _misers_.\n\nFor awhile shut thine eyes, and think of the _silliest creature_ in\nhuman life; imagine to thyself something that thou thinkest the most\n_poor_ and _vain_ in the way of the world. Now thou art thyself that\npoor and vain creature, unless thou art devoted to God, and labouring\nafter Christian perfection; unless this be thy difference from the\nworld, thou canst not think of any creature more silly than thyself.\nFor it is not any _post_, or condition, or figure in life, that makes\none man wiser or better than another; if thou art a proud _scholar_,\na worldly _priest_, an indevout _philosopher_, a crafty _politician_,\nan ambitious _statesman_, thy imagination cannot invent a way of life\nthat has more of vanity or folly than thine own.\n\n\nXI. Every one has wisdom enough to see what variety of fools and\nmadmen there are in the world.\n\nNow perhaps we cannot do better, than to find out the true reason\nof the folly and madness of any sort of life. Ask thyself therefore\nwherein consists the folly of any sort of life, which is most\ncondemned in thy judgment.\n\n*Is a drunken _fox-hunter_ leading a foolish life? Wherein consists\nthe folly of it? Is it because he is not getting money upon the\n_exchange_? Or because he is not wrangling at the _bar_? Or not\nwaiting at _court_? No; the folly of it consists in this, that he is\nnot living like a _reasonable creature_; that he is not acting like\na being that has a salvation to work out with _fear and trembling_;\nthat he is throwing away his time amongst _dogs_, and noise, and\nintemperance, which he should devote to watching and prayer, and the\nimprovement of his soul in all holy tempers. Now, if this is the folly\n(as it most certainly is) of an intemperate _fox-hunter_, it shews us\nan equal folly in every other way of life, where the same great ends\nof living are neglected. Tho\u2019 we are shining at the _bar_, making a\nfigure at _court_, great at the _exchange_, or famous in the _schools_\nof _philosophy_, we are yet the same despicable creatures as the\nintemperate _fox-hunter_, if these things keep us as far from holiness\nand heavenly affections. There is nothing greater in any way of life\nthan _fox-hunting_: it is all the same folly, unless religion be the\nbeginning and ending, the rule and measure of it all. For it is as\n_noble_ a _wisdom_, and shews as _great_ a _soul_, to die less holy\nand heavenly for the sake of _hunting_ and _noise_, as for the sake\nof any thing that the world can give us.\n\n\nXII. Another motive to induce you to aspire after _Christian\nperfection_, may be taken from the double advantage of it in this\nlife, and that which is to come.\n\nThe apostle thus exhorts the _Corinthians_, _Wherefore, my beloved\nbrethren, be ye stedfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of\nthe Lord; for as much as ye know that your labour will not be in vain\nin the Lord_\u00b9.\n\n \u00b9 1 Cor. xv. 58.\n\nThis is an exhortation founded upon solid reason: for what can be so\nreasonable, as to be always abounding in _that work_ which will never\nbe _in vain_? Whilst we are pleased with ourselves, or pleased with\nthe world, we are pleased with vanity: and our most prosperous labours\nof this kind are but _vanity of vanities_: but whilst we are labouring\nafter Christian perfection, we are labouring for eternity, and\nbuilding to ourselves higher stations in the joys of heaven. _As one\nstar differeth from another star in glory, so also is the resurrection\nof the dead._ We shall surely rise to different degrees of glory, of\njoy and happiness in God, according to our different advancements in\nholiness, and good works.\n\nNo degrees of mortification and self-denial, no private prayers, no\nsecret mournings, no instances of charity, no labour of love, will\never be forgotten, but all treasured up to our everlasting comfort.\nFor though the rewards of the other life are free gifts of God; yet\nsince he has assured us, that every man shall be rewarded according to\nhis works, it is certain that our rewards will be as different as our\nworks have been.\n\n\nXIII. Now stand still awhile, and ask yourself, whether you really\nbelieve this to be true, that the more perfect we are here, the more\nhappy we shall be hereafter? If you do not believe this, you know\nnothing of God and religion. And if you do believe it, is it possible\nto be _awake_ and not aspiring after Christian perfection? What can\nyou think of, what can the world shew you, that can make you any\namends for the loss of _any degree_ of virtue? Can any way of life\nmake it reasonable for you to die _less perfect_ than you might have\ndone? But if you would now devote yourself to God, perhaps you must\npart with some friends; you must displease some relations, you must\nrefrain from some pleasures, you must alter your life; nay, perhaps\nyou must do more than this, you must expose yourself to the hatred of\nyour friends, to the jest and ridicule of _wits_, and to the scorn and\nderision of worldly men. But had you not better do and suffer all this,\nthan die _less perfect_, less prepared for eternal glory? And indeed\nthe suffering all this is suffering nothing. For why should it signify\nany thing to you, what _fools_ and _madmen_ think of you? And surely\nit can be no wrong or rash judgment to think those both fools and mad,\nwho condemn what God approves, and like that which God condemns: but\nif you think this too much to be done, to obtain eternal glory, think\non the other hand, what can be gained instead of it.\n\n*Fancy yourself living in all the ease and pleasure that the world can\ngive you, esteemed by your friends, undisturbed by your enemies, and\ngratifying all your _natural tempers_. If you could _stand still_ in\nsuch a state, you might say that you had got _something_; but alas!\nevery day that is _added_ to such a life, is the same thing as a day\ntaken from it, and shews you that so much happiness is gone from you.\nFor be as happy as you will, you must see it all sinking away from\nyou; you must feel yourself _decline_; you must see that your time\n_shortens apace_; you must hear of _sudden deaths_; you must fear\n_sickness_; you must both dread and desire _old age_; you must fall\ninto the hands of death; you must either die in the bitter sorrows of\na deep repentance, or in sad gloomy despair, wishing for _mountains to\nfall upon you, and rocks to cover you_. And is this a happiness to be\nchosen? Is this all that you can gain by neglecting God, by following\nyour own desires, and not labouring after Christian perfection? Is it\nworth your while to separate yourself from God, to lose your share in\nthe realms of light, to be _thus happy_; or, I may better say, to be\nthus miserable even in this life? You may be so blind and foolish, as\nnot to think of these things; but it is impossible to think of them,\nwithout labouring after _Christian perfection_.\n\n\nXIV. It may be, you are too young, too happy, or too busy to be\naffected with these reflections; but let me tell you, that _all_ will\nbe over before you are aware; your _day_ will be spent, and leave you\nto such a _night_, as that which surprized the _foolish virgins_. _And\nat midnight there was a cry made, behold the bridegroom cometh, go ye\nout and meet him\u00b9._\n\n \u00b9 Matt. xxv. 6.\n\n*The _last hour_ will soon be with you, when you will have nothing to\nlook for, but your _reward_ in another life; when you will stand with\nnothing but _eternity_ before you, and must begin to be something\nthat will be your state for ever. I can no more _reach_ heaven with my\nhands, than I can describe the sentiments that you then will have; you\nwill then feel motions of heart that you never felt before; all your\nthoughts and reflections will pierce your soul in a manner, that you\nnever before experienced; and you will feel the immortality of your\nnature, by the depth and piercing vigour of your thoughts. You will\nthen know what it is to die; you will then know that you never knew it\nbefore, that you never thought worthily of it; but that dying thoughts\nare as _new_ and _amazing_ as that state which follows them.\n\nLet me therefore exhort you to come prepared to this time of trial;\nto look out for comfort, whilst the day is before you; to treasure up\nsuch a _fund_ of good and pious works, as may make you able to bear\nthat state, which cannot be borne without them. Could I any way make\nyou apprehend, how dying men feel the want of a pious life; how they\nlament time lost, health and strength squandered away in folly; how\nthey look at eternity, and what they think of the rewards of another\nlife, you would soon find yourself one of those, who desire to live in\nthe highest state of piety and perfection, that by this means you may\ngrow old in peace, and die in full hope of eternal glory.\n\n\nXV. Consider again, that besides the rewards of the other life, the\ndevoting yourself wholly to God has a great reward even in this life,\nas it makes religion _doubly_ pleasant to you. Whilst you are divided\nbetwixt God and the world, you have neither the pleasures of religion,\nnor the pleasures of the world; but are always in the uneasiness of\na divided state of heart. You have only so much religion as serves to\ndisquiet you; to check your enjoyments; to shew you a _hand-writing\nupon the wall_; to interrupt your pleasures; to reproach you with\nyour follies; and to appear as a _death\u2019s head_ at all your feasts;\nbut not religion enough to give you a taste and feeling of its proper\npleasures and satisfactions. You dare not wholly neglect religion; but\nthen, you take no more of it than is just sufficient to keep you from\nbeing a terror to yourself; and you are as loath to be _very good_,\nas you are fearful to be _very bad_. So that you are just as happy as\nthe _slave_, that dares not run away from his master, and yet always\nserves him against his will. Instead of having a religion that is your\ncomfort in all troubles, your religion is itself a _trouble_, under\nwhich you want to be comforted; and those days and times hang heaviest\non your hands, which leave you only to the offices and duties of\nreligion. _Sunday_ would be very dull and tiresome, but that it is but\none day in _seven_, and is made a day of _dressing_ and _visiting_, as\nwell as of divine service. You don\u2019t care to keep away from the public\nworship, but are always glad when it is over. This is the state of\nhalf _piety_; thus they live who add religion to a worldly life; all\ntheir religion is mere _yoke_ and _burden_, and is only made tolerable\nby having but little of their time.\n\n\nXVI. _Urbanus_ goes to church, but he hardly knows whether he goes out\nof a sense of duty, or to meet his friends. He wonders at those people\nwho are _prophane_, and what pleasure they can find in irreligion;\nbut then, he is in as great a wonder at those who would make every day\na day of divine worship. He feels no more of the pleasures of piety,\nthan of the pleasures of prophaneness. As religion has every thing\nfrom him but his _heart_, so he has every thing from religion but its\n_comforts_. _Urbanus_ likes religion, because it seems an _easy_ way\nof pleasing God; a _decent_ thing, that takes up but little of our\ntime, and is a proper _mixture_ in life: but if he was reduced to\ntake _comfort_ in it, he would be as much at a loss, as those who\nhave lived without God in the world. When _Urbanus_ thinks of joy, and\npleasure, and happiness, he does not think at all of religion. He has\ngone through a hundred misfortunes, fallen into variety of hardships;\nbut never thought of making religion his _comfort_ in any of them. He\nmakes himself quiet and happy in another manner. He is content with\nhis Christianity, not because he is _pious_, but because he is not\n_prophane_. He continues in the same course of religion, not because\nof any real good he ever found in it, but because it does him no hurt.\n\n*To such poor purposes as these do numbers of people profess\nChristianity. Let me therefore exhort you to a _solid piety_, to\ndevote yourself wholly unto God; that entering deep into religion,\nyou may enter deep into its comforts; that serving God with all your\nheart, you may have the peace and pleasure of a heart that is at unity\nwith itself. When your conscience once bears you witness, that you\nare _stedfast_, _immoveable_, _and always abounding in the work of the\nLord_, you will find that your reward is already begun, and that you\ncould not be less devout, less holy, less charitable, or less humble,\nwithout lessening the most substantial pleasure that ever you felt in\nyour life. So that to be content with any lower attainments in piety,\nis to rob ourselves of a present happiness, which nothing else can\ngive us.\n\n\nXVII. You would perhaps devote yourself to perfection, but for this\nor that _little difficulty_ that lies in your way; you are not in so\nconvenient a state for the full practice of piety as you could wish:\nbut consider that this is nonsense, because perfection consists in\nconquering difficulties. You could not be perfect as the present state\nof trial requires, had you not those difficulties and inconveniences\nto struggle with. These things therefore which you would have removed,\nare laid in your way, that you may make them so many steps to glory.\n\nAs you could not exercise your charity, unless you met with objects;\nso neither could you shew, that you had _overcome_ the world, unless\nyou had many worldly engagements to overcome. If all your _friends_\nand _acquaintance_ were devout, humble, heavenly-minded, and wholly\nintent upon the one end of life, it would be less perfection in you\nto be like them: But if you are _humble_ amongst those that delight\nin pride, _heavenly-minded_ amongst the worldly, _sober_ amongst the\nintemperate, _devout_ amongst the irreligious, and labouring after\n_perfection_ amongst those that despise and ridicule your labours,\nthen are you truly devoted unto God. Consider therefore, that you can\nhave no difficulty, but such as the world lays in your way; and that\nperfection is never to be had, but by parting with the world. To stay\ntherefore to be perfect till it suits with your condition in the world,\nis like staying to be charitable till there were no objects of charity.\nIt is as if a man should intend to be courageous some time or other,\nwhen there is nothing left to try his courage.\n\n\nXVIII. Again, you perhaps turn your eyes upon the world; you see\nall orders of people full of other cares and pleasures; you see\nthe generality of _clergy_ and _laity_, learned and unlearned, your\nfriends and acquaintance, mostly living according to the spirit that\nreigneth in the world; you are therefore content with such a _piety_\nas you think contents great _scholars_ and _famous_ men: and it may\nbe you cannot think that God will reject such numbers of Christians.\nNow all this is amusing yourself with nothing; it is only losing\nyourself in vain imaginations; it is making that a _rule_ which is no\nrule, and cheating yourself into a false satisfaction. As you are not\ncensoriously to damn other people; so neither are you to think your\nown salvation secure, because you are like the generality of the world.\n\n*The _foolish virgins_ that had provided no oil in their lamps, and\nso were shut out of the marriage-feast, were only thus far _foolish_,\nthat they trusted to the _assistance_ of those that were _wise_: but\nyou are more foolish than they; for you trust to be saved by the folly\nof others; you imagine yourself safe in the _negligence_, _vanity_,\nand _irregularity_ of the world; you take confidence in the _broad\nway_, because it is _broad_; you are content with yourself, because\nyou seem to be along with _the many_, though God himself has told you,\nthat _narrow_ is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that\nfind it.\n\n\nXIX. One word more and I have done. Think with yourself, what a\nhappiness it is, that you have it in your power to secure a share in\nthe glories of heaven, and make yourself one of those blessed beings\nthat are to live with God for ever. Reflect upon the glories of bright\nangels, that shine about the throne of heaven. Think upon that fulness\nof joy, which is the state of Christ at the right hand of God; and\nremember that it is this same state of glory and joy that lies open\nfor you. You are less, it may be, in worldly distinctions than many\nothers; but as to your relation to God, you have no superior upon\nearth. Let your condition be what it will, let your life be ever so\nmean, you may make the end of it the beginning of eternal glory. Be\noften therefore in these reflections, that they may fill you with a\nwise ambition of all that glory which God in Christ hath called you to.\nFor it is impossible to understand and feel any thing of this, without\nfeeling your heart affected with strong desires after it. There are\nmany things in human life which it would be in vain for you to aspire\nafter; but the happiness of the next, the sum of all happiness, is\nsecure and safe to you against all accidents. Here no chances or\nmisfortunes can prevent your success; neither can the treachery of\nfriends, nor the malice of enemies disappoint you; it is only your own\nfalse heart that can rob you of this happiness. Be but your own true\nfriend, and then you have nothing to fear from your enemies. Do but\nyou sincerely labour in the Lord, and then neither heighth nor depth,\nneither life nor death, neither men or devils, can make your labour\nvain.\n\n\n\n\n An Extract from Mr. LAW\u2019s\n SERIOUS CALL\n TO A HOLY LIFE.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n _Concerning the nature and extent of Christian devotion._\n\n\n1. DEVOTION is neither _private_ nor _public_ prayer; but prayers,\nwhether private or public, are particular parts or instances of\ndevotion. Devotion signifies a life _devoted_ to God.\n\nHe therefore is the _devout_ man, who lives no longer to his own\n_will_, or the _way_ and _spirit_ of the world, but to the sole will\nof God; who considers God in every thing, who serves God in every\nthing, who makes all the parts of his _common_ life, parts of piety,\nby doing every thing in the name of God, and under such rules as are\nconformable to his glory.\n\n\n2. *We readily acknowledge, that God alone is to be the rule and\nmeasure of our _prayers_; that in them we are to look _wholly_ unto\nhim, and act _wholly_ for him; that we are only to pray in _such a\nmanner_, for _such things_, and _such ends_, as are suitable to his\nglory.\n\nNow let any one but find out the reason why he is to be thus strictly\npious in his prayers, and he will find the same as strong a reason\nto be strictly pious in all the other parts of his life. For there is\nnot the least reason why we should make God the _rule_ and _measure_\nof our prayers, why we should then look _wholly_ unto him, and pray\naccording to his will; but what equally proves it necessary for us\nto look _wholly_ unto God, and make him the rule and measure of all\nthe other actions of our life. Were it not our strict duty to live by\n_reason_, to devote all the actions of our lives to God; were it not\nabsolutely necessary to walk before him in wisdom and holiness, and\nall heavenly conversation, doing every thing in his name and for his\nglory, there would be no excellency or wisdom in the most _heavenly\nprayers_: nay, such prayers would be absurdities; they would be like\nprayers for _wings_, when it was no part of our duty to _fly_.\n\n\n3. As sure therefore as there is any wisdom in praying for the Spirit\nof God, so sure is it, that we are to make that Spirit the rule of\n_all_ our actions; as sure as it is our duty to look _wholly_ unto God\nin our prayers, so sure is it, that it is our duty to live _wholly_\nunto God in our lives. But we can no more be said to live unto God,\nunless we live unto him in all our _ordinary_ actions, unless he be\nthe rule and measure of all our ways, than we can be said to pray unto\nGod, unless our prayers look _wholly_ unto him. So that unreasonable\nand absurd ways of life, whether in _labour_ or _diversion_, whether\nthey consume our _time_ or our _money_, are like unreasonable and\nabsurd prayers, and are as truly an offence unto God.\n\n\n4. \u2019Tis for want of knowing, or at least considering this, that we\nsee such a _mixture_ of ridicule in the lives of many people. You see\nthem strict as to some _times_ and _places_ of devotion; but when the\nservice of the _church_ is over, they are but like those that seldom\nor never come there. In their way of life, their manner of spending\ntheir _time_ and _money_, in their _cares_ and _fears_, in their\n_pleasures_ and _indulgencies_, in their labour and diversions, they\nare like the rest of the world. This makes the world generally make a\njest of those that are _devout_, because they see their devotion goes\nno farther than their _prayers_, and that they live no more unto God,\ntill the time of prayer returns again; but live by the same _humour_\nand _fancy_, and in as full an enjoyment of all the follies of life\nas other people. This is the reason why they are the jest of worldly\npeople; not because they are really devoted to God, but because they\nappear to have no other devotion, but that of _occasional prayers_.\n\n\n5. _Julius_ is very fearful of missing prayers; all the parish\nsupposes _Julius_ to be sick, if he is not at _church_. But if you\nwas to ask him, why he spends the rest of his time by _humour_ or\n_chance_? Why he is a companion of the silliest people in their most\n_silly pleasures_? Why he is ready for every impertinent entertainment\nand diversion? If you was to ask him why there is no amusement\ntoo trifling to please him? Why he gives himself up to an _idle_,\n_gossiping_ conversation? Why he lives in foolish friendships for\nparticular persons, that neither want nor deserve any particular\nkindness? If you ask him why he never puts his _conversation_, his\n_time_, and _fortune_ under the rules of religion, _Julius_ has no\nmore to say for himself than the most disorderly person. For the whole\ntenor of scripture lies as directly against such a life, as against\n_debauchery_ and _intemperance_. He that lives in such a course, lives\nno more according to the religion of Jesus Christ, than he that lives\nin gluttony and intemperance.\n\nIf a man was to tell _Julius_, that there was no occasion for so much\nconstancy at prayers, and that he might neglect the service of the\nchurch, as the generality of people do, _Julius_ would think such a\none to be no Christian, and that he ought to avoid his company: but\nif a person only tell him, that he may live as the generality of the\nworld does, that he may enjoy himself as others do, that he may spend\nhis _time_ and _money_ as people of fashion do, that he may conform to\nthe follies of the generality, and gratify his temper and passions as\nmost people do, _Julius_ never suspects that man to want a Christian\nspirit, or that he is doing the devil\u2019s work.\n\n\n6. The short of the matter is this. Either reason and religion\nprescribe _rules_ and _ends_ to all the ordinary actions of our lives,\nor they do not: if they do, then it is as necessary to govern all\nour actions by those rules as it is necessary to worship God. For if\nreligion teaches us any thing concerning _eating_ and _drinking_, or\nspending our _time_ and _money_; if it teaches us how we are to _use_\nthe world; if it tells us what tempers we are to have in _common_ life,\nhow we are to be disposed towards all people, how we are to behave\ntowards the _sick_, the _poor_, the _old_ and _destitute_; if it tells\nus whom we are to treat with a particular love, whom we are to regard\nwith a particular esteem; if it tells us how we are to treat our\nenemies, and how we are to deny ourselves, he must be very weak that\ncan think these parts of religion are not to be observed with as much\n_exactness_ as any doctrines that relate to prayers.\n\n\n7. Our blessed Saviour and his apostles are wholly taken up in\ndoctrines that relate to _common life_. They call us to differ in\nevery _temper_ and _way_ of life from the spirit and way of the world:\nto renounce all its goods, to fear none of its evils, to reject its\njoys, and have no value for its happiness: to be as _new-born babes_,\nthat are born into a new state of things; to live as pilgrims, in\nspiritual watching, in holy fear, aspiring after another life; to take\nup our daily cross; to deny ourselves; to profess the blessedness of\nmourning; to seek the blessedness of poverty of spirit; to forsake the\npride and vanity of riches; to take no thought for the morrow; to live\nin the profoundest humility; to rejoice in sufferings; to reject the\nlust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life; to\nbear injuries; to forgive and bless our enemies, and to love mankind\nas God loveth them; to give up our whole hearts and affections to God;\nand strive to enter thro\u2019 the strait gate into a life of eternal glory.\n\n\n8. Thus it is in all virtues and holy tempers; they are not _ours_,\nunless they be the virtues and tempers of our _ordinary life_. So that\nChristianity is so far from leaving us to live in the common ways of\nlife, conforming to the folly of customs, and gratifying the passions\nand tempers which the spirit of the world delights in: it is so far\nfrom indulging us in any of these things, that all its virtues, which\nit makes necessary to salvation, are only so many ways of living,\ncontrary to the world in all the common actions of our life.\n\nIf our common life is not a course of _humility_, _self-denial_,\n_renunciation_ of the world, _poverty_ of spirit, and _heavenly_\naffection, we don\u2019t live the life of Christians.\n\n\n9. But yet, tho\u2019 it is thus plain, that this, and this alone, is\nChristianity, an uniform, open and visible practice of all these\nvirtues; yet it is as plain, that there is little or nothing of this\nto be found, even among the better sort of people. You see them often\nat church; but look into their lives, and you see them just the same\nsort of people as others are. The difference that you find betwixt\nthem is only the difference of their natural tempers. They have\nthe same _taste_ of the world, the same worldly cares, fears, and\njoys; they have the same _turn_ of mind, are equally _vain_ in their\ndesires. You see the same vanity of _dress_, the same _self-love_ and\nindulgence, the same foolish _friendships_ and groundless _hatreds_,\nthe same _levity_ of mind and _trifling_ spirits, the same idle\ndispositions, and vain ways of spending their time in visiting and\nconversation, as in the rest of the world, that make no pretences to\ndevotion.\n\n\n10. I don\u2019t mean this comparison betwixt people seemingly good and\nprofessed _rakes_ but betwixt people of sober lives. Let us take an\ninstance in two modest women: let it be supposed that one of them\nis careful of times of devotion, thro\u2019 a sense of duty; and that the\nother is at church seldom or often, just as it happens. Now it is a\nvery easy thing to see this difference betwixt these persons. But,\ncan you find any farther difference betwixt them? Can you find that\ntheir _common life_ is of a different kind? Are not the _tempers_,\nand _customs_, and _manners_, of the one, of the same kind as of\nthe other? Do they live as if they belonged to different worlds, had\ndifferent views in their heads, and different rules and measures of\nall their actions? Have not they the same _goods_ and _evils_? Are\nthey not pleased and displeased in the _same manner_, and for the same\nthings? Do they not live in the same course of life? Does one seem\nto be of this world, looking at the things that are temporal, and\nthe other to be of another world, looking wholly at the things that\nare eternal? Does the one live in pleasure, delighting herself in\n_shew_ or _dress_, and the other live in _self-denial_, renouncing\nevery thing that looks like vanity, either of _person_, _dress_, or\n_carriage_? Does the one trifle away her time? And does the other\nstudy all the arts of improving it, living in prayer and watching, and\nsuch good works as may make all her time turn to her advantage, and be\nplaced to her account at the last day? Is the one careless of expence,\nand glad to adorn herself with every costly ornament of dress? And\ndoes the other consider her fortune as a talent given her by God,\nwhich is to be improved religiously, and no more to be spent in vain\nand needless ornaments than it is to be buried in the earth?\n\nWhere must you look, to find one person of religion differing in\nthis manner from another that has none? And yet if they do not differ\nin these things, can it with any sense be said, the one is a _good_\nChristian, and the other not?\n\n\n11. Take another instance among the men. _Leo_ has a great deal of\ngood nature, has kept what they call _good_ company, hates every thing\nthat is _false_ and _base_, is very generous to his friends; but has\nconcerned himself so little with religion, that he hardly knows the\ndifference betwixt a _Jew_ and a _Christian_.\n\n_Eusebius_, on the other hand, has had early impressions of religion,\nand buys books of devotion. He can talk of all the _feasts_ and\n_fasts_ of the church, and knows the _names_ of most men that have\nbeen eminent for piety. You never hear him swear, and when he talks\nof religion, he talks of it as a matter of great concern.\n\nHere you see, that one person has religion enough, to be reckoned\na _pious Christian_; and the other is so far from all appearance of\nreligion, that he may fairly be reckoned a _Heathen_. And yet, if you\nlook into their _common life_, if you examine their _ruling_ tempers\nin the greatest _articles_ of life, you will find the least difference\nimaginable. Consider them with regard to the use of the world, because\nthat is what every body can see. Now, to have right _notions_ and\n_tempers_, with regard to the world, is as essential to religion,\nas to have right notions of God. And it is as possible for a man\nto worship a _Crocodile_, and yet be a _pious man_, as to have his\naffections set upon this world, and yet be a _good Christian_.\n\nBut now, if you consider _Leo_ and _Eusebius_ in this respect, you\nwill find them exactly alike; seeking, using, and enjoying all that\ncan be got in this world, in the same manner. You will find, _riches_,\n_prosperity_, _pleasures_, and _honour_, are just as much the\nhappiness of _Eusebius_ as they are of _Leo_. And yet, if Christianity\nhas not changed a man\u2019s temper, with relation to these things, what\nhas it done for him?\n\n\n12. Every one capable of reflection, must have observed, that this is\ngenerally the state, even of devout people, whether _men_ or _women_.\nYou may see them different from other people, as to _times_ and\n_places_ of prayer, but like the rest of the world in all the other\nparts of their lives; that is, adding _Christian_ devotion to an\n_Heathen_ life. I have the authority of our blessed Saviour for this\nremark, where he says, _Take no thought, saying, what shall we eat,\nor what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be cloathed? For after\nall these things do the Gentiles seek._ But if to be thus affected\neven with the necessary things of this life, shews that we are not of\na _Christian spirit_, but an _Heathen_; surely, to enjoy the vanity\nof the world as they did, to be like them in the main tempers of our\nlives, in sensual pleasures and diversions, in the vanity of dress,\nthe love of shew and greatness, or any other gaudy distinctions of\nfortune, is a much greater sign of an Heathen temper; and consequently,\nthey who add devotion to such a life, must be said to _pray_ as\n_Christians_, but live as _Heathens_.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n _An enquiry into the reason why the generality of |Christians|\n fall so short of the holiness of Christianity._\n\n\n1. IT may now be reasonably enquired, how it is, that the lives,\neven of the better sort of people, are thus strangely contrary to\nthe principles of Christianity?\n\nBefore I give a direct answer, I desire it may be enquired, how it is,\nthat _swearing_ is so common amongst Christians? It is indeed yet not\nso common amongst _women_, as amongst _men_; but among men this sin\nis so common, that perhaps there are more than two in three that are\nguilty of it through the whole course of their lives; swearing _more_\nor _less_, just as it happens; some constantly, others only now and\nthen. Now I ask how comes it, that two in three of men are guilty\nof so gross a sin as this is? There is neither ignorance nor human\ninfirmity to plead for it: it is against an express commandment, and\nthe most plain doctrine of our blessed Saviour.\n\nDo but find the reason why the generality of men live in this\nnotorious vice, and you will have found the reason, why the generality\neven of the better sort of people, live so contrary to Christianity.\n\n\n2. *Now the reason of common swearing is this; it is because men have\nnot so much as the _intention to please God in all their actions_. For,\nlet a man but have so much piety as to _intend to please God in all\nthe actions of his life, as the happiest and best thing in the world_,\nand then he will never swear more. It will be as impossible for him\nto swear, whilst he feels _this intention_ within himself, as it is\nimpossible for a man that intends to please his prince, to go up and\nabuse him to his face.\n\n\n3. It is but a small part of piety to have such an _intention_ as this;\nand he has no reason to look upon himself as a disciple of Christ, who\nis not this far advanced. And yet it is purely for want of this degree\nof piety, that you see such a mixture of sin and folly in the lives\neven of the better sort of people. It is for want of this _intention_,\nthat you see men that profess religion, yet live in _swearing_ and\n_sensuality_; that you see _clergymen_ given to pride and covetousness,\nand worldly enjoyments. It is for want of this _intention_, that you\nsee _women_ that profess devotion yet living in all the vanity and\nfolly of _dress_, and wasting their time in _idleness_ and _pleasures_,\nin all such instances as their estates will reach. For, let but a\nwoman feel her heart full of _this intention_, and she will find it\nas impossible to _patch_ or _paint_, as to curse or swear; she will\nno more desire to shine at _balls_ and _assemblies_, or make a figure\namongst those that are most finely dressed, than she will desire to\ndance upon a _rope_ to please spectators: she will know, that the one\nis as far from the _wisdom_ and _excellency_ of the Christian spirit\nas the other.\n\n\n4. It was this _general intention_ that made the _primitive\nChristians_ such eminent instances of piety. And if you will here stop,\nand ask yourself, why you are not as pious as the primitive Christians\nwere, your own heart will tell you, it is neither through _ignorance_\nor _inability_, but purely because you never _thoroughly intended_\nit. You observe the same _Sunday-worship_ that they did; and you are\n_strict_ in it, because it is your full intention to be so. And when\nyou as fully intend to be like them in their _common_ life; when\nyou intend to please God in _all your actions_, you will find it as\npossible, as to be strictly exact in the service of the church. And\nwhen you have this _intention to please God in all your actions, as\nthe happiest and best thing in the world_, you will find in you as\ngreat an aversion to any thing that is _vain_ and _impertinent_ in\ncommon life, whether of business or pleasure, as you now have to any\nthing that is _prophane_. You will be as fearful of living in any\nfoolish way, either of spending your time, or your _fortune_, as you\nare now fearful of neglecting the public worship.\n\n\n5. Now, who that wants this general _intention_, can be reckoned a\nChristian? And yet if it was among Christians, it would change the\nwhole face of the world; exemplary holiness, would be as common and\nvisible, as _buying_ and _selling_, or any trade in life.\n\n*Let a _clergyman_ but be thus _pious_, and he will _converse_ as if\nhe had been brought up by an _apostle_. He will no more think and talk\nof _noble preferment_, than of _noble eating_, or a glorious _chariot_.\nHe will no more complain of the _frowns_ of the _world_, or a _small\ncure_, or the want of a _patron_, than he will complain of a _laced\ncoat_ or a _running horse_. Let him but _intend to please God in all\nhis actions, as the happiest and best thing in the world_, and then he\nwill know, that there is nothing _noble_ in a clergyman, but burning\nzeal for the salvation of souls; nor any thing poor in his profession,\nbut _idleness_ and a _worldly spirit_. Again, let a _tradesman_ but\nhave this _intention_, and it will make him a saint in his _shop_; his\nevery day business will be a course of wise and reasonable actions,\nmade holy to God, by being done in obedience to his will and pleasure.\nHe will _buy_ and _sell_, and _labour_ and travel, because by so\ndoing he can do some good to himself and others; but then, as nothing\ncan please God but what is wise, and reasonable, and holy; so he\nwill neither buy nor sell, nor labour in any _manner_, but such as\nis _wise_, and _reasonable_, and _holy_. He will therefore consider,\nnot what arts, or methods, will make him richer and greater than\nhis brethren, or remove him from a _shop_ to a life of _state_ and\n_pleasure_; but he will consider what arts, what methods, can make\nworldly business most acceptable to God, and make a life of trade a\nlife of holiness, devotion, and piety. This will be the temper and\nspirit of every tradesman; he cannot stop short of these degrees of\npiety, whenever it is his _intention to please God in all his actions,\nas the best and happiest thing in the world_.\n\n\n6. Again, let the _gentleman_ of fortune but have this _intention_,\nand it will carry him from every appearance of evil, to every instance\nof piety and goodness.\n\nHe cannot live by _chance_, or as _humour_ or fancy carries him,\nbecause he knows that nothing can please God but a wise and regular\ncourse of life. He cannot live in _idleness_ and _indulgence_, in\n_sports_ and _gaming_, in vain expences and high living, because these\nthings cannot be turned into means of holiness, or made so many parts\nof a wise and religious life.\n\n*As he thus removes from all appearance of evil, so he aspires after\nevery instance of goodness. He does not ask what is _allowable_\nand _pardonable_, but what is _commendable_ and _praise-worthy_. He\ndoes not ask whether God will forgive the _folly_ of our lives, the\n_madness_ of our pleasures, the _vanity_ of our expences, and the\ncareless consumption of our _time_; but he asks whether God is pleased\nwith these things; or whether these are the appointed ways of gaining\nhis favour. He does not enquire, whether it be pardonable to hoard up\nmoney, to adorn ourselves with diamonds, and gild our chariots, whilst\nthe _widow_ and the _orphan_, the _sick_ and the _prisoner_ want to\nbe relieved; but he asks whether God has required these things at our\nhands; whether we shall be called to account at the last day for the\nneglect of them? Because it is not his intent to live in such ways as\nGod may _perhaps_ pardon, but in such as we know God will _infallibly_\nreward.\n\nHe will not therefore look at the lives of Christians, to learn how\nhe ought to spend his estate, but he will look into the scripture,\nand make every _doctrine_, _parable_, or _instruction_ that relates\nto rich men, a _law_ to himself in the use of it.\n\nHe will have but _one rule_ for charity, and that will be, to spend\nall that he can that way; because the Judge of quick and dead hath\nsaid, all that is so given, is given to him.\n\n\n7. Let not any one look upon this as an imaginary description, that\nlooks fine in the notion, but cannot be put in practice. For it is\nso far from being impracticable, that it has been practised by great\nnumbers of Christians in former ages, who were glad to turn their\nwhole estates into a constant course of charity. And it is so far\nfrom being impossible now, that if we can find any Christians that\nsincerely _intend to please God in all their actions, as the best and\nhappiest thing in the world_, whether they be young or old, single or\nmarried, men or women, it will be impossible for them to do otherwise.\nThis one principle will infallibly carry them to this, and they will\nfind themselves unable to stop short of it.\n\nFor how is it possible for a man that _intends_ to please God in\nthe use of his _money_, because he judges it to be his _greatest\nhappiness_; to bury his money in _needless_, _impertinent_ finery, in\ncovering himself or his horses with gold, whilst there are any works\nof piety or charity to be done with it, or any ways of spending it\nwell?\n\n\n8. I have chose to explain this matter, by appealing to this\n_intention_, because it makes the case so plain, and because every one\nmay see it in the clearest light, and feel it in the strongest manner,\nonly by looking into his own heart. For it is as easy for every person\nto know, whether he _intends_ to please God in all his actions, as\nfor any _servant_ to know, whether this be his intention towards his\n_master_. Every one also can easily tell how he lays out his money,\nand whether he considers how to please God in it, as he can tell where\nhis estate is, and whether it be in _money_ or in _land_. So that here\nis no plea left for _ignorance_ or _frailty_, as to this matter; every\nbody is in the _light_, and every body has _power_. And no one can\nfail, but he that is not so much a Christian, as to _intend_ to please\nGod in the use of his estate.\n\n\n9. You see two persons, one is regular in _public_ and _private_\nprayer, the other is not. Now the reason of this difference is not\nthis, that one has _strength_ to observe prayer, and the other has not;\nbut the reason is this, that one intends to please God in the duties\nof devotion, and the other has no intention about it. The case is the\nsame in the right or wrong use of our _time_ and _money_. You see one\nperson throwing away his time in _sleep_ and _idleness_, in _visiting_\nand _diversions_, and his money in the most vain and unreasonable\nexpences. You see another careful of every day, dividing his hours\nby rules of reason and religion, and spending all his money in works\nof charity. Now the difference is not owing to this, that one has\nstrength to do thus, and the other has not; but to this, that one\n_intends to please_ God in the right use of all his _time_ and all\nhis _money_, and the other has no intention about it.\n\n\n10. Here therefore let us judge ourselves sincerely; let us not vainly\ncontent ourselves with the common disorders of our lives, the _vanity_\nof our expences, the _folly_ of our diversions, the _idleness_ of our\nlives, and the _wasting_ of our time, fancying that these are _such\nimperfections_ as we fall into thro\u2019 the unavoidable _weakness_ of our\nnatures; but let us be assured that these disorders of our _common_\nlife are owing to this, that we have not so much Christianity as to\nintend to please God in all our actions, as the best and happiest\nthing in the world. So that we must not look upon ourselves in a state\nof common imperfection, but in such a state as wants the _first_ and\n_most fundamental_ principle of Christianity, _viz. an intention to\nplease God in all our actions_.\n\n\n11. And if any one was to ask himself how it comes to pass, that\nthere are any _degrees_ of sobriety which he neglects, any _method_ of\ncharity which he does not follow, any _rules_ of redeeming time which\nhe does not observe, his own heart will tell him, that it is because\nhe never _intended_ to be so exact in those duties. For whenever we\nfully intend it, it is as possible to conform to all this _regularity_\nof life, as it is possible for a man to observe _times_ of prayer.\n\nSo that the fault does not lie here, that we desire to be good and\nperfect, but thro\u2019 the weakness of our nature fall short of it; but\nwe have not piety enough to _intend_ to be as good as we can, or to\nplease God in _all our actions_. This we see is plainly the case of\nhim that spends his time in _sports_, when he should be at _church_;\nit is not his want of power, but his want of _intention_, or desire to\nbe there.\n\n\n12. And the case is plainly the same in every other folly of human\nlife. She that spends her time and _money_ in the unreasonable ways\nand fashions of the world, does not do so, because she wants power\nto be wise and religious in the management of her time and money, but\nbecause she has no _intention_ or desire of being so. When she feels\nthis intention, she will find it as possible to act up to it, as to be\nstrictly _sober_ and _chaste_ because it is her care and desire to be\nso.\n\n\n13. This doctrine does not suppose, that we have no need of divine\ngrace, or that it is in our own power to make ourselves perfect.\nIt only supposes, that through the want of a _sincere_ intention of\npleasing God in _all our actions_, we fall into such irregularities\nof life, as by the _ordinary_ means of grace, we should have power to\navoid.\n\nAnd that we have not that perfection, which our present state of grace\nmakes us capable of, because we don\u2019t so much as intend to have it.\n\nIt only teaches us, that the reason why you see no _real_ self-denial,\nno _eminent_ charity, no _profound_ humility, no _heavenly_ affection,\nno _true_ contempt of the world, no _Christian_ meekness, no _sincere_\nzeal, no _eminent_ piety in the _common lives_ of Christians, is this,\nbecause they don\u2019t so much as _intend to be exact and exemplary_ in\nthese virtues.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n _Of the great danger and folly of not |intending| to be as\n eminent as we can, in the practice of all Christian virtues._\n\n\n1. ALTHOUGH the goodness of God, and his rich mercy in Christ Jesus,\nare a sufficient assurance to us, that he will be merciful to our\nunavoidable weaknesses, that is, to such failings as are the effects\nof _ignorance_ or _surprize_; yet we have no reason to expect the\nsame mercy towards those sins which we live in, through a want of\n_intention_ to avoid them.\n\nFor instance, a _common swearer_, who dies in that guilt, seems to\nhave no title to the divine mercy; because he can no more plead any\nweakness in his excuse, than the man that hid his _talent_ in the\nearth, could plead his want of strength to keep it out of the earth.\n\n\n2. But, if this be right reasoning in the case of a _common swearer_,\nthat his sin is not to be reckoned a _pardonable frailty_, because he\nhas no weakness to plead in its excuse: why don\u2019t we as much condemn\nevery other error of life, that has no more weakness to plead in its\nexcuse than common swearing?\n\nFor if this be so bad, because it might be avoided, if we did but\nsincerely intend it, must not all other erroneous ways of life be very\nguilty, if we live in them, not through weakness and inability, but\nbecause we never sincerely intended to avoid them?\n\nFor instance, you perhaps have made no progress in the most important\nChristian virtues, in _humility_ and _charity_. Now, if your failure\nis owing to your want of _intention_ of performing them in any true\ndegree, have you not as little to plead for yourself? And are you not\nas much without all excuse as the _common swearer_?\n\n\n3. Why therefore don\u2019t you press these things home upon your\nconscience? Why do you not think it as dangerous for you to live in\nsuch defects as are in your power to amend, as \u2019tis dangerous for a\ncommon swearer to live in the breach of that duty, which it is in his\npower to observe? Is not the want of a sincere intention, as blameable\nin one case as another?\n\nYou, it may be, are as far from _Christian perfection_ as the common\nswearer is from keeping the _third commandment_. Are you not therefore\nas much condemned by the doctrine of the gospel, as the swearer is by\nthe third commandment?\n\nYou perhaps will say, that all people fall short of the perfection\nof the gospel. But this is nothing to the purpose: for the question\nis not, whether gospel perfection can be fully attained; but whether\nyou come as near it as a sincere intention, and careful diligence can\ncarry you? Whether you are not in a much lower state than you might be,\nif you sincerely intended to advance yourself in all Christian virtues?\n\nIf your defects in _piety_, _humility_, and _charity_ are owing to\nyour want of _sincere intention_ to be as eminent as you can in these\nvirtues, then you leave yourself as much without excuse, as he that\nlives in the sin of swearing, through the want of a sincere intention\nto depart from it.\n\n\n4. The salvation of our souls is set forth in scripture as a thing of\ndifficulty, that requires _all our diligence_, that is to be _worked\nout with fear and trembling_.\n\nWe are told, _straight is the gate, and narrow is the way that leadeth\nunto life, and few there be that find it_: that _many are called, but\nfew are chosen_: and that many will miss of their salvation who seem\nto have taken _some pains_ to obtain it. _Strive to enter in at the\nstraight gate; for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and\nshall not be able._\n\n*Here our blessed Lord commands us to _strive_ to enter in, because\nmany will fail, who only _seek_ to enter: by which we are plainly\ntaught, that religion is a state of _labour_ and _striving_, and that\nmany will fail of their salvation; not because they took no pains or\ncare about it, but because they did not take care and pains enough;\nthey only _sought_, but did not _strive_ to enter in.\n\nEvery Christian therefore should as well examine his life by these\n_doctrines_, as by the commandments: for these doctrines are as plain\nmarks of our condition as the commandments are.\n\nFor if salvation is only given to those who _strive_ for it, then it\nis as reasonable for me to consider, whether my course of life be a\ncourse of striving to obtain it, as to consider whether I am keeping\nany of the commandments.\n\n\n5. If my religion is only a formal compliance with those modes of\nworship that are in fashion where I live, if it costs me no pains or\ntrouble, if it lays me under no rules and restraints, if I have no\ncareful thoughts about it, is it not great weakness to think that I\nam _striving to enter in at the straight gate_?\n\nIf I am seeking every thing that can delight my senses, spending my\ntime and fortune in pleasures, in diversions, and worldly enjoyments;\na stranger to watchings, fastings, prayers, and mortifications, how\ncan it be said, that I am _working out my salvation with fear and\ntrembling_?\n\nIf I use the world and worldly enjoyments, as the generality of people\ndo, and in all ages have done, why should I think that I am amongst\n_those few_, who are walking in the _narrow way_ to heaven?\n\n*And yet, if the way is _narrow_, if none can walk in it but those\nthat _strive_, is it not as necessary for me to consider, whether\nthe _way_ I am in be narrow _enough_, or the _labour_ I take to be a\n_sufficient_ striving, as to consider whether I sufficiently observe\nthe second or third commandment?\n\n\n6. The measure of our love to God seems in justice to be the measure\nof our love of every virtue. We are to love and practise it _with\nall our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all\nour strength_. And when we cease to live with this regard to virtue,\nwe live below our nature, and instead of being able to plead our\n_infirmities_, we stand chargeable with wilful _negligence_.\n\nIt is for this reason that we are exhorted to work out our salvation\nwith _fear_ and _trembling_; because unless our _heart_ and _passions_\nare eagerly bent upon the work of our salvation, unless _holy fears_\nanimate our endeavours, and keep our consciences tender about every\npart of our duty, constantly examining how we live, and how fit we are\nto die, we shall in all probability sit down in such a course of life,\nas will never carry us to the rewards of heaven.\n\nAnd he that considers, that a just God can only make such allowances\nas are suitable to his justice, that our works are all to be examined\nby fire, will find _fear_ and _trembling_ are proper tempers for those\nthat are drawing near to so great a trial.\n\nNow this is not intended to possess people\u2019s minds with a scrupulous\nanxiety; but to fill them with a just fear of living in the neglect of\nsuch virtues as they will want at the day of judgment.\n\nIt is only desiring them to be so apprehensive of their state, so\nearnest after higher degrees of piety, and so fearful of falling short\nof happiness, as the great apostle St. _Paul_ was, when he thus wrote\nto the _Philippians_.\n\n_Not as though I had already attained, either were already\nperfect;\u2015\u2015but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are\nbehind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press\ntoward the mark for the prize of the high calling of |God| in Christ\nJesus._ And then he adds, _Let us therefore, as many as are perfect,\nbe thus minded_.\n\nBut if the apostle thought it necessary for those who were in his\nstate of perfection to be _thus minded_; thus labouring, pressing, and\naspiring after some degrees of holiness, to which they were not then\narrived; surely it is much more necessary for us, _to be thus minded_;\nthus earnest and striving after such degrees of a holy life, as we\nhave not yet attained.\n\n\n7. The best way for any one to know how much he ought to aspire after\nholiness, is to ask himself, how much he thinks will make him easy at\nthe hour of death.\n\nNow any man that dares put this question to himself, will be forced to\nanswer, that at death, every one will wish, he had been as perfect as\nhuman nature can be.\n\nIs not this sufficient to put us, not only upon wishing, but labouring\nafter all that perfection which we shall then lament the want of? Is\nit not excessive folly to be content with such a course of piety as\nwe already know cannot content us, at a time when we shall so want\nit, as to have nothing else to comfort us? How can we carry a severer\ncondemnation against ourselves, than to believe, that at the hour of\ndeath, we shall want the virtues of the _saints_, and wish that we\nhad been among the first servants of God, and yet take no methods of\narriving at their height of piety, whilst we are alive?\n\n\n8. Though this is an _absurdity_ that we can pass over, whilst the\nhealth of our bodies, the passions of our minds, the noise, and\nhurry, and pleasures, and business of the world, lead us on with eyes\nthat see not; yet at death, it will appear before us in a dreadful\nmagnitude: it will haunt us like a dismal ghost; and our conscience\nwill never let us take our eyes from it.\n\nWe see in worldly matters, what a torment self-condemnation is; and\nhow hardly a man is able to forgive himself, when he has brought\nhimself into any calamity or disgrace, purely by his own folly. The\naffliction is made doubly tormenting; if he is forced to charge it all\nupon himself, as his own act and deed, against the reason of things,\nand contrary to the advice of his friends.\n\nNow by this we may in some degree guess, how terrible that\nself-condemnation will be, when a man shall find himself in the misery\nof death, under the severity of a self-condemning conscience; charging\nall his distress upon his own folly and madness, against the sense\nand reason of his own mind, against all the doctrines and precepts of\nreligion, and contrary to all the instructions, calls, and warnings\nboth of God and man.\n\n\n9. *_Penitens_ was a busy, notable tradesman, and very prosperous in\nhis dealings, but died in the _thirty-fifth_ year of his age.\n\nA little before his death, when the doctors had given him over, some\nof his neighbours came to see him; at which time he spoke thus to them.\n\nI see, my friends, the tender concern you have for me, by the grief\nthat appears in your countenances; and I know the thoughts that you\nhave about me. You think how melancholy a case it is, to see so young\na man, and in such flourishing business, delivered up to death. And\nperhaps, had I visited any of you in my condition, I should have had\nthe same thoughts of you.\n\nBut now, my friends, my thoughts are no more like your thoughts, than\nmy condition is like yours.\n\nIt is no trouble to me now to think, that I am to die young, or before\nI have raised an estate.\n\nThese things are now sunk into such mere _nothings_, that I have no\nname little enough to call them by. For if in a few days, or hours, I\nam to leave this carcase to be buried in the earth, and to find myself\neither for ever happy in the favour of God, or eternally separated\nfrom all light and peace. Can any words sufficiently express the\nlittleness of every thing else?\n\nIs there any dream like the dream of life, which amuses us with the\ndisregard of these things? Is there any folly like the folly of our\nmanly state, which is too _wise_ and _busy_ to be at leisure for these\nreflections?\n\n\n10. When we consider death as a misery, we only think of it as a\nmiserable separation from the enjoyments of this life. We seldom\nmourn over an old man that dies rich; but we lament the young, that\nare taken away in the progress of their fortune. You yourselves look\nupon me with pity, not that I am going unprepared to meet the Judge\nof quick and dead, but that I am to leave a prosperous trade in the\nflower of my life.\n\nThis is the wisdom of our manly thoughts: And yet what folly of the\nsilliest children is so great as this?\n\nFor what is there miserable in death, but the consequences of it? When\na man is dead, what does any thing signify to him, but the state he is\nthen in?\n\nOur poor friend _Lepidus_ died, you know, as he was dressing himself\nfor a _feast_. Do you think it is now part of his trouble, that he did\nnot live till that entertainment was over? _Feasts_, and _business_,\nand pleasures, and _enjoyments_, seem great things to us, whilst we\nthink of nothing else; but as soon as we add death to them, they all\nsink into an equal littleness; and the soul, that is separated from\nthe body, no more laments the loss of business, than the losing of a\n_feast_.\n\nIf I am now going into the joys of God, could there be any reason\nto grieve, that this happened to me before I was forty years of age?\nCould it be a sad thing to go to heaven, before I had made a few more\n_bargains_, or stood a little longer behind a _counter_?\n\nAnd if I am to go amongst lost spirits, could there be any reason to\nbe content, that this did not happen to me till I was old, and full of\nriches? If good angels were ready to receive my soul, could it be any\ngrief to me, that I was dying upon a _poor bed_ in a _garret_?\n\nAnd if God has delivered me up to evil spirits, to be dragged by them\nto places of torment, could it be any comfort to me, that they found\nme upon a _bed of state_?\n\n\n11. When you are as near death as I am, you will know, that all the\ndifferent states of life, whether of youth or age, riches or poverty,\ngreatness or meanness, signify no more to you, than whether you die in\na _poor_ or _stately_ apartment.\n\nThe greatness of those things which follow death, makes all that go\nbefore it sink into nothing.\n\nNow that everlasting happiness or misery is come so near, all the\nenjoyments and prosperities of life seem as vain and insignificant,\nand to have no more to do with my happiness than the cloaths I wore\nbefore I could speak.\n\nBut, my friends, how am I surprized, that I have not always had these\nthoughts? For what is there in the terrors of death, in the vanities\nof life, or the necessities of piety, but what I might have as easily\nand fully seen in any part of my life?\n\nWhat a strange thing is it, that a little _health_, or the poor\nbusiness of a _shop_, should keep us so senseless of these great\nthings that are coming so fast upon us!\n\n\n12. Just as you came into my chamber, I was thinking with myself,\nwhat numbers of souls there are now in the world, in my condition\nat this very time, surprized with a summons to the other world; some\ntaken from their _shops_ and _farms_, others from their _sports_ and\n_pleasures_, these at _suits at law_, those at _gaming-tables_, some\non the _road_, others at their own _fire-sides_, and all seized at an\nhour when they thought not of it; frighted at the approach of death,\nconfounded at the vanity of all their labours, designs and projects,\nastonished at the folly of their past lives, and not knowing which way\nto turn their thoughts, to find any comfort; their consciences flying\nin their faces, bringing all their sins to remembrance, presenting\nthem with the sight of the angry Judge, the worm that never dies, the\nfire that is never quenched, the gates of hell, the powers of darkness,\nand the bitter pains of eternal death.\n\nOh my friends! bless God that you are not of this number, that you\nhave time and strength so to employ yourselves, as may bring you peace\nat the last.\n\n\n13. You, perhaps when you consider that I have lived free from scandal\nand debauchery, and in the communion of the church, wonder to see me\nso full of remorse and self-condemnation at the approach of death.\n\nIt is true, I have lived in the communion of the church, and\nfrequented its service on _Sundays_, when I was not too _idle_, or\notherwise disposed of by my _business_ and _pleasures_: but then, my\nconformity to the public worship has been rather a thing of course,\nthan from any real intention of glorifying God; had it been so, I had\nbeen more devout when there, and more fearful of ever neglecting it.\n\n\n14. But the thing that now surprizes me above all wonders, is this,\nthat I never had so much as a _general intention_ of living up to the\npiety of the gospel. This never so much as entered into my heart. I\nnever once in my life considered, whether my way of life was such as\nwould procure me the mercy of God at this hour.\n\nHow easy a thing would salvation be, if it could fall into my careless\nhands, who have never had so much serious thought \u2666about it, as about\nany one common bargain that I have made?\n\n \u2666 duplicate word removed \u2018about\u2019\n\nDo you think any thing can astonish and confound a dying man like\nthis? What pain do you think a man must feel, when his conscience\nlays all this folly to his charge, when it shews him how regular,\nexact, and wise he has been in small matters, that are passed away\nlike a dream, and how stupid and senseless he has lived without\nany reflection, in things of such eternal moment, as no heart can\nsufficiently conceive them?\n\nOh my friends! a careless life, unconcerned and inattentive to the\nduties of religion, is so without all excuse, so unworthy of the mercy\nof God, such a shame to the sense and reason of our minds, that I can\nhardly conceive a greater punishment, than for a man to be thrown into\nthe state that I am in, to reflect upon it.\n\n_Penitens_ was here going on, but had his mouth stopped by a\n_convulsion_, which never suffered him to speak any more. He lay\nconvulsed for about twelve hours, and then gave up the ghost.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n _We can please |God| in no state or employment, but by\n |intending| and |devoting| it all to his glory_.\n\n\n1. HAVING already stated the general nature of devotion, and shewn,\nthat it implies not any _form of prayer_, but a certain form of\nlife, that is offered to God, not at any particular _times_ or\n_places_, but every where and in every thing; I shall now descend\nto some particulars, and shew how we are to devote our _labour_ and\n_employment_, our _time_ and _fortunes_, to God.\n\nAs a Christian should consider every place as holy, because God is\nthere; so he should look upon every part of his life as a matter of\nholiness, because it is to be offered to God.\n\nThe profession of a _clergyman_ is an holy profession, because it is a\nministration in _holy things_. But worldly business is to be made holy,\nby being done as a service to God, and in conformity to his will.\n\nFor as all men, and all things in the world, as truly belong unto God,\nas any _places_, _things_, or _persons_, that are devoted to divine\nservice; so all things are to be _used_, and all persons are to _act_\nin their several states for the glory of God.\n\nMen of business therefore must not look upon themselves as at liberty\nto live to themselves, to sacrifice to their own _humours_ and\n_tempers_, because their employment is of a worldly nature: but they\nmust consider, that as the world, and all worldly professions, as\ntruly belong to God as _persons_ and _things_ that are devoted to the\n_altar_; so it is as much the duty of men in worldly business to live\nwholly unto God, as \u2019tis the duty of those who are devoted to divine\nservice.\n\n\n2. As the whole world is God\u2019s; so the whole world is to act for God.\nAs all men have the same _relation_ to God, as all men have all their\n_powers_ and _faculties_ from God; so all men are obliged to act for\nGod with all their _powers_ and _faculties_.\n\n*As all things are God\u2019s; so all things are to be used and regarded as\nthe things of God. For _men_ to abuse things on _earth_, and live to\nthemselves, is the same rebellion against God as for _angels_ to abuse\nthings in _heaven_; because God is just the same Lord of all on earth,\nas he is of all in heaven.\n\n_Things_ may, and must differ in their _use_: but yet they are all to\nbe used according to the will of God.\n\n_Men_ may, and must differ in their _employments_; but yet they must\nall act for the same ends, as dutiful servants of God, in the right\nand pious performance of their several callings.\n\n\n3. _Clergymen_ must live wholly to God in one _particular_ way;\nthat is, in the exercise of _holy offices_, in the ministration of\n_prayers_ and _sacraments_, and a zealous distribution of spiritual\ngoods.\n\nBut men of other employments are, in their _particular_ ways, as much\nobliged to act as the servants of God, and live wholly unto him in\ntheir several callings.\n\nThis is the only difference between clergymen and people of other\ncallings.\n\n*When it can be shewn, that men may be vain, covetous, sensual,\nworldly-minded, or proud in the exercise of their worldly business,\nthen it will be allowable for _clergymen_ to indulge the same tempers\nin their sacred professions. For, tho\u2019 these tempers are most odious\nand most criminal in _clergymen_, who, besides their baptismal vow,\nhave a second time devoted themselves to God, to be his servants, not\nin the _common offices_ of life, but in the service of the most _holy_\nthings; and who are therefore to keep themselves as separate from the\n_common_ life of other men, as a _church_ or an _altar_ is to be kept\nseparate from houses and tables of common use: yet as all Christians\nare by their baptism _devoted_ to God, and made professors of holiness;\nso are they all in their several callings to live as holy and heavenly\npersons; doing everything in their _common_ life only in such a manner,\nas it may be received by God, as a service done to him. For things,\nspiritual and temporal, sacred and common, must, like _men_ and\n_angels_, like _heaven_ and _earth_, all conspire in the glory of God.\n\n\n4. *As there is but one _God_ and _Father of us all_, whose glory\ngives light and life to every thing that lives, whose presence fills\nall places, whose power supports all beings, whose providence ruleth\nall events; so every thing that lives, whether in _heaven_ or _earth_,\nwhether they be _thrones_ or _principalities_, _men_ or _angels_, must\nall, with one Spirit, live wholly to the praise and glory of this one\nGod and Father of them all. _Angels_ as _angels_, in their heavenly\nministrations, but _men_ as men, _women_ as women, _bishops_ as\nbishops, _priests_ as priests, and _deacons_ as deacons; some with\nthings _spiritual_, and some with things _temporal_, offering to God\nthe daily sacrifice of a reasonable life, wise actions, purity of\nheart, and heavenly affections.\n\nThis is the _common business_ of all persons in this world. It is\nnot left to any _women_ in the world to trifle away their time in the\nfollies and impertinences of a _fashionable life_, nor to any _men_\nto resign themselves up to worldly _cares_ and _concerns_; it is not\nleft to the _rich_, to gratify their passions in the _indulgences_ and\n_pride_ of life, nor to the _poor_, to vex and torment their hearts\nwith the _poverty_ of their state; but _men_ and women, rich and\npoor, must, with _bishops_ and _priests_, walk before God in the\nsame wise and holy Spirit, in the same denial of all vain tempers,\nand in the same discipline and care of their souls; not only because\nthey have all the same rational nature, and are servants of the same\nGod, but because they all _want_ the same holiness to make them fit\nfor the same happiness. It is therefore absolutely necessary for\nall Christians, whether _men_ or _women_, to consider themselves as\npersons that are _devoted_ to holiness, and to order their _common\nways of life_ by such rules of reason and piety as may turn it into a\n_continual service_ to Almighty God.\n\n\n5. As the glory of God is _one_ and the _same_ thing; so whatever we\ndo, suitable to it, must be done with _one_ and the _same_ Spirit.\nThat same temper of mind which makes our _alms_ and _devotions_\nacceptable, must also make our _labour_, or _employment_, a proper\noffering to God. If a man pursues his business, that he may raise\nhimself to _figure_ and _glory_ in the world, he is no longer serving\nGod in his employment; he is acting under other _masters_, and has no\nmore title to a reward from God, than he that gives _alms_ that he may\nbe _seen_ of men. For vain and earthly desires are no more allowable\nin our _employments_, than in our _alms_ and _devotions_. For these\ntempers of worldly pride, and vain glory, are not only evil, when\nthey mix with our good works; but they have the same evil nature, when\nthey enter into our common business. If it were allowable to indulge\n_covetous_ or _vain_ passions in our worldly _employments_, it would\nbe allowable to be vain-glorious in our _devotions_. But as our _alms_\nand _devotions_ are not an acceptable service, but when they proceed\nfrom a heart _truly devoted_ to God; so our common employment cannot\nbe reckoned a service to him, but when it is performed with the same\npiety of heart.\n\n\n6. *Most of the employments of life are in their own nature lawful;\nand all those that are so, may be made a substantial part of our duty\nto God, if we engage in them only _so far_, and for such _ends_, as\nare suitable to _beings_, that are to live _above_ the world, all\nthe time they live in the world. This is the _only measure_ of our\napplication to any worldly business; let it be what it will, or where\nit will, it must have no more of our _hands_, our _hearts_, or our\n_time_, than is consistent with an hearty, daily, careful preparation\nof ourselves for another life. For as all Christians, as such, have\nrenounced this world, to prepare themselves by _daily_ devotion, and\n_universal_ holiness, for an eternal state of quite another nature,\nthey must look upon worldly employments as upon _worldly wants_, and\n_bodily infirmities_; things not to be desired, but only to be endured\ntill death and the resurrection have carried us to an eternal state of\nreal happiness.\n\n\n7. Now he that does not look at the things of this life in this\n_degree_ of littleness, cannot be said either to feel or believe the\ngreatest truths of Christianity. For, if he thinks any thing great or\nimportant in human business, can he be said to feel or believe those\nscriptures which represent this life, and the greatest things of life,\nas _bubbles_, _vapours_, _dreams_ and _shadows_?\n\nIf he thinks _figure_, and _shew_, and worldly _glory_, to be any\n_proper_ happiness of a Christian, how can he be said to feel or\nbelieve this doctrine, _Blessed are ye when men shall hate you, and\nwhen they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach\nyou, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man\u2019s sake?_ For\nsurely, if there was any real happiness in _figure_, and _shew_, and\n_worldly glory_; if these things deserved our thoughts and care, it\ncould not be matter of the _highest joy_, when we are torn from them\nby _persecution_ and _sufferings_. If therefore a man will so live,\nas to shew, that he believes the most _fundamental_ doctrines of\nChristianity, he must live above the world; he must do the business\nof life, and yet live _wholly_ unto God. And it is as necessary\nthat people live in their employments with this _temper_, as it is\nnecessary, that their employment itself be _lawful_.\n\n\n8. *The _husbandman_ that tilleth the ground, is employed in an honest\nbusiness, that is necessary in life, and very capable of being made\nan _acceptable service_ unto God: but if he labours and toils, not to\nserve any reasonable ends of life, but in order to have his _plough_\nmade of _silver_, and to have his _horses_ harnessed in _gold_, the\nhonesty of his employment is lost as to him, and his labour becomes\nhis _folly_.\n\nA _tradesman_ may justly think, that it is agreeable to the will of\nGod for him to sell such things as are _useful_ in _life_; such as\nhelp both himself and others to a reasonable support, and enable them\nto assist those that want to be assisted: but if instead of this, it\nbe his chief end in it to grow _rich_, that he may live in _figure_\nand _indulgence_, and be able to retire from business to _idleness_\nand _luxury_, his trade, as to him, loses all its _innocency_, and\nis so far from being an acceptable service to God, that it is only a\nmore plausible course of _covetousness_, _self-love_, and _ambition_.\nFor such a one turns the necessities of his employment into pride and\ncovetousness, just as the _sot_ and _epicure_ turn the necessities of\neating and drinking into _gluttony_ and _drunkenness_. Now he that is\nup early and late, that sweats and labours for those ends that he may\nbe some time or other rich, and live in _pleasure_ and _indulgence_,\nlives no more to the glory of God than he that _plays_ and _games_\nfor the same ends. For though there is a great difference between\n_trading_ and _gaming_; yet most of that difference is lost, when\nmen trade with the _same desires_ and _tempers_, and for the same\nends that others game. _Charity_ and _fine dressing_ are things very\ndifferent; but if men give _alms_ for the same reasons that others\n_dress fine_, only to be _seen_ and _admired_, charity is then\nbut like the vanity of _fine cloaths_. In like manner, if the same\nmotives make some people industrious in their _trades_, which makes\nothers constant at _gaming_, such pains are but like the pains\nof gaming.\n\n\n9. *_Calidus_ has traded above thirty years in the greatest city\nof the kingdom; he has been so many years constantly increasing his\n_trade_ and his _fortune_. Every hour of the day is with him an hour\nof business; and though he _eats_ and _drinks_ very heartily, yet\nevery meal seems to be in a hurry, and he would say _grace_ if he _had\ntime_. _Calidus_ ends every day at the _tavern_; but has not leisure\nto be there till near nine o\u2019clock. He is always forced to drink a\ngood _hearty glass_, to drive thoughts of business out of his head,\nand make his spirits _drowsy_ enough for sleep. He does business all\nthe time that he is rising, and has settled several matters, before he\ncan get to his _compting-house_. His prayers are a short _ejaculation_\nor two, which he never misses in _stormy_ weather, because he has\nalways something or other at _sea_. _Calidus_ will tell you with great\npleasure, that he has been in this _hurry_ for so many years, and that\nit must have killed him long ago, but that it has been a _rule_ with\nhim, to get out of the town every _Saturday_, and make the _Sunday_ a\nday of _quiet_ and good _refreshment_ in the country.\n\n*He is now so rich that he would leave off his business, and amuse his\n_old age_ with building and furnishing a fine house in the country;\nbut that he is afraid he should grow _melancholy_, if he was to\nquit his business. He will tell you with great gravity, that it is a\ndangerous thing for a man, that has been used to get money, ever to\nleave it off. If thoughts of religion happen at any time to _steal_\ninto his head, _Calidus_ contents himself with thinking, that he never\nwas a friend to _heretics_ and _infidels_; that he has always been\ncivil to the _minister_ of his parish, and very often given something\nto the _charity-schools_.\n\n\n10. *Now this way of life is at such a _distance_ from all the\ndoctrines and discipline of Christianity, that no one can live in it\nthrough ignorance or frailty. _Calidus_ can no more imagine, that _he\nis born again of the Spirit_\u00b9; that _he is in Christ a new creature_\u00b2;\nthat he lives _here as a stranger and pilgrim, setting his affections\nupon things above, and laying up treasures in heaven_\u00b3. He can no more\nimagine this, than he can think that he has been all his life an\n_apostle_, working _miracles_, and preaching the _gospel_.\n\n \u00b9 John iii.\n\n \u00b2 1 Pet. ii. 11.\n\n \u00b3 Coloss. iii. 1.\n\nIt must also be owned, that the _generality_ of trading people,\nespecially in _great towns_, are too much like _Calidus_. You see them\nall the week buried in business, unable to think of any thing else;\nand then spending the _Sunday_ in _idleness_ and _refreshment_, in\nwandering into the country, in such visits and jovial meetings as make\nit often the worst day of the week.\n\n\n11. Now they do not live thus, because they cannot support themselves\nwith _less care_ and application to business; but they live thus\nbecause they want to grow _rich_ in their trades, and to maintain\ntheir families in some such _figure_ and degree of _finery_, as\na _reasonable Christian_ has no occasion for. Take away but this\n_temper_, and then people of _all trades_ will find themselves at\nleisure to live every day like Christians, to be careful of every duty\nof the gospel, to live in a visible course of religion, and be every\nday strict observers both of private and public prayer.\n\nNow the only way to do this, is, for people to consider their trade\nas something that they are to _devote_ to the glory of God, something\nthat they are to do only in such a manner, as that they may make it\na duty to him. Nothing can be right in _business_, that is not under\nthese rules. The apostle commands servants, _to be obedient to their\nmasters in singleness of heart as unto Christ: not with eye-service,\nas men-pleasers; but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of\n|God| from the heart\u00b9. With good-will, doing service as unto the Lord,\nand not unto men\u00b2._\n\n \u00b9 Ephes. vi. 5.\n\n \u00b2 Coloss. iii. 22, 23.\n\nThis passage sufficiently shews, that all Christians are to live\nwholly unto God in every state and condition; doing the work of their\n_common calling_ in such a manner, and for such ends, as to make it a\npart of their _service_ to God. For if _poor slaves_ are not to comply\nwith their business as _men-pleasers_, if they are to look wholly unto\nGod in all their actions, and serve in _singleness_ of _heart_, as\nunto the Lord; surely men of other conditions must be as much obliged\nto go through their business with the same _singleness_ of _heart_;\nnot as pleasing the vanity of their own minds, not as gratifying their\nown selfish, worldly passions, but as the servants of God in all that\nthey have to do.\n\n\n12. *It is therefore absolutely certain, that no Christian is to enter\n_any farther_ into business, nor for any _other ends_, than such as\nhe can, in _singleness_ of heart, offer unto God as a _reasonable_\nservice. For the Son of God having redeemed us for this _only end_,\nthat we should, by a life of _reason_ and _piety_, live to the glory\nof God; this is the only rule and measure for every order and state\nof life. Without this _rule_, the most _lawful_ employment becomes a\n_sinful_ state of life.\n\n*Take away this from the life of a _clergyman_, and his holy\nprofession serves only to expose him to the greater _damnation_.\nTake away this from _tradesmen_, and shops are but so many houses\nof greediness and filthy lucre. Take away this from _gentlemen_, and\nthe course of their life becomes a course of sensuality, pride, and\nwantonness. Take away this rule from our _tables_, and all falls into\ngluttony and drunkenness. Take away this measure from our _dress_\nand _habits_, and all is turned into such _paint_, and _glitter_, and\nridiculous ornaments, as are a _real_ shame to the wearer. Take away\nthis from the use of our _fortunes_, and you will find people sparing\nin nothing but charity. Take away this from our _diversions_, and you\nwill find no sports too silly, nor any entertainments too vain and\ncorrupt to be the pleasures of Christians.\n\n\n13. If therefore we desire to live unto God, it is necessary to bring\nour _whole life_ under this law, to make his glory the sole _rule_ and\n_measure_ of our acting in every employment of life. For there is no\nother _true devotion_, but this of living devoted to God in the common\nbusiness of our lives.\n\n*So that men must not content themselves with the _lawfulness_ of\ntheir employments; but must consider whether they use them, as they\nare to use every thing, as strangers and pilgrims, that are baptized\ninto the resurrection of Jesus Christ, that are to follow him in\na _wise and heavenly_ course of life, in the mortification of all\nworldly desires, and in purifying and preparing their souls for the\nblessed enjoyment of God.\n\nFor to be vain, or proud, or covetous, or ambitious in the _common\ncourse_ of our business, is as contrary to these holy tempers, as\ncheating and dishonesty.\n\nIf a _glutton_ was to say, in excuse of his gluttony, that he only\neats such things as it is _lawful_ to eat, he would make as good an\nexcuse for himself as the greedy, covetous, ambitious tradesman, that\nshould say, he only deals in lawful business. For as a Christian is\nnot only required to be honest, but to be of a Christian _spirit_, and\nmake his life an exercise of _humility_, _repentance_, and _heavenly_\naffection; so all tempers contrary to these, are as contrary to\nChristianity, as _cheating_ is contrary to _honesty_.\n\n\n14. All this is only to shew us the absolute necessity of such uniform\npiety, as extends to all the actions of our common life.\n\nThat we must _eat_, and _drink_, and _dress_, and _discourse_\naccording to the sobriety of the Christian spirit; engage in no\nemployments but such as we can truly devote unto God; nor pursue them\nany farther, than conduces to the reasonable ends of a holy life.\n\nThat we must be _honest_, not only on particular occasions, and in\n_such_ instances as are _applauded_ in the world, easy to be performed,\nand free from _danger_ or _loss_, but from such a _living principle_\nof justice, as makes us love truth and integrity in _all its\ninstances_, follow it thro\u2019 all dangers, and against all opposition;\nas knowing that the more we pay for any truth, the better is our\n_bargain_, and that then our integrity becomes a _pearl_, when we have\nparted with _all_ to keep it.\n\nThat we must be _humble_, not only in such instances as are _expected_\nin the world, or _suitable_ to our tempers, or confined to particular\noccasions, but in such a spirit, as renders us meek and holy in the\n_whole course_ of our lives, as shews itself in our _dress_, our\n_person_, our _conversation_, our _enjoyment_ of the world, _patience_\nunder injuries, _submission_ to superiors, and condescension to those\nthat are below us, and in all the outward actions of our lives.\n\nThat we must not only devote _times_ and _places_ to prayer, but\nbe every where in the _spirit_ of devotion, with hearts always set\ntowards heaven, looking up to God in all our actions, and doing\nevery thing as servants living in the world, as in an holy temple\nof God; always worshipping him, tho\u2019 not with our lips, yet with the\n_thankfulness_ of our hearts, the _holiness_ of our actions, and the\npious and charitable use of his gifts. That we must not only send up\npetitions and thoughts now and then to heaven; but must go thro\u2019 all\nour worldly business, with an heavenly spirit, as members of Christ\u2019s\nmystical body, that, with new _hearts_ and new _minds_, we are to turn\nan earthly life into a preparation for a life of greatness and glory\nin the kingdom of heaven.\n\n\n15. Enough, I hope, has been said, to shew you the necessity of thus\nintroducing religion into _all the actions_ of our _common life_, and\nof living and acting with the same regard to God in all that you do,\nas in your prayers and alms.\n\n_Eating_ is one of the lowest actions of our lives; it is common to us\nwith mere _animals_: yet we see that the piety of all the ages of the\nworld, has turned this _ordinary_ action of the animal life, into a\n_piety_ to God, by making every meal to begin and end with devotion.\n\n*We see yet some _remains_ of this custom in most Christian families;\nsome such _little formality_ as shews you, that people used to call\nupon God at the beginning and end of their meals. But indeed it\nis generally now so performed, as to look more like a mockery upon\ndevotion, than any solemn application of the mind unto God. In one\nhouse you may perhaps see the _head_ of the family just pulling off\nhis hat; in another half getting up from his _seat_; another shall,\nit may be, proceed so far, as to make as if he said _something_: but\nhowever, these _little attempts_ are the remains of some devotion\nthat was formerly used at such times, and are proofs that religion\nhas formerly belonged to this part of _common life_.\n\nBut to such a pass are we now come, that tho\u2019 the custom is still\npreserved, yet we can hardly bear with him, that seems to perform\nit with any degree of _seriousness_, and look upon it as a sign of\na _fanatical_ temper, if a man has not done it as soon as he begins.\n\nI would not be thought to plead for the necessity of _long prayers_\nat these times; but thus much I think may be said, that if prayer is\nproper at these times, we ought to use such _words_ as should shew,\nthat we _solemnly_ appeal to God for such graces and blessings as\nare proper to the occasion; otherwise the mock-ceremony, instead of\nblessing our victuals, does but accustom us to trifle with devotion,\nand give us a habit of being unaffected with our prayers.\n\n\n\u266617. If every _head_ of a family would, at the return of every meal,\nmake a _solemn adoration_ of God, in such a decent manner as becomes\na devout mind, it would be very likely to teach him, that _swearing_,\n_sensuality_, _gluttony_, and _loose_ discourse, were very improper at\nthose meals, which were to begin and end with devotion.\n\n \u2666 Number 16 omitted in text.\n\nAnd if in these days of general corruption, this part of devotion\nis fallen into a _mock-ceremony_, it must be imputed to this, that\n_sensuality_ and _intemperance_ have got too great power over us, to\nsuffer us to add any devotion to our meals. But thus much must be said,\nthat when we are as pious as _Jews_ and _Heathens_ of all ages have\nbeen, we shall think it proper to pray at the beginning and end of our\nmeals.\n\nI have appealed to this pious custom of all ages as a proof of the\nreasonableness of the doctrine of this and the foregoing chapters;\nthat is, as a proof that religion is to be the _rule_ and _measure_ of\nall the actions of our _ordinary_ life. For surely, if we are not to\n_eat_, but under such rules of devotion, it must appear, that whatever\nelse we do, must, in its proper way, be done with the same regard to\nthe glory of God.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n _Persons that are free from the necessity of labour and\n employments, are to consider themselves as devoted to God\n in a higher degree._\n\n\n1. GREAT part of the world are free from the necessities of labour,\nand have their _time_ and _fortunes_ in their own disposal.\n\nBut as no one is to live in his _employment_ according to his own\nhumour, or to please his own fancy, but is to do all his business in\nsuch a manner as to make it a service unto God; so those who have no\nparticular employment, are so far from being left at liberty to live\nto themselves, to pursue their own humours, and spend their time and\nfortune as they please, that they are under greater obligations of\nliving wholly unto God in all their actions.\n\nThe _freedom_ of their state lays them under a greater _necessity_ of\nalways chusing and doing the best things.\n\nThey are those, of whom _much will be required_, because _much is\ngiven unto them_.\n\nA _slave_ can only live unto God in one particular way; that is, by\nreligious patience and submission in his state of slavery.\n\nBut all ways of holy living, all instances, and all kinds of virtue,\nlie open to those who are masters of themselves, their time, and their\nfortune.\n\nIt is as much the duty, therefore, of such persons, to make a wise\nuse of their liberty, to devote themselves to all kinds of virtue, to\naspire after every thing that is holy and pious, and to please God in\nthe highest and most perfect manner, as it is the duty of a _slave_ to\nbe _resigned_ unto God in his state of slavery.\n\n\n2. You are no _labourer_, or _tradesman_; you are neither _merchant_\nnor _soldier_; consider yourself therefore as placed in a state, in\nsome degree like that of _good angels_, who are sent into the world as\n_ministring spirits_, for the general good of mankind, to _assist_,\n_protect_, and _minister_ for them who shall be heirs of salvation.\n\nFor the more you are free from the _common_ necessities of _men_, the\nmore you are to imitate the _higher_ perfections of _angels_.\n\nHad you, _Serena_, been obliged to wash cloaths for your maintenance,\nor to wait upon some _mistress_, that demanded all your _labour_, it\nwould be your duty to glorify God, by such _humility_, _obedience_,\nand _faithfulness_, as might adorn that state of life.\n\nIt would then be recommended to your care, to improve that _one\ntalent_ to its greatest height; that when the time came for mankind to\nbe rewarded for their labours by the great Judge of the quick and dead,\nyou might be received with a _well done good and faithful servant,\nenter thou into the joy of thy Lord_.\n\nBut as God has given you _five talents_, as he has placed you above\nthe necessities of life, as he has left you in the happy liberty of\nchusing the most exalted ways of virtue; as he has left you nothing to\ndo, but to make the best use of variety of blessings, to make the best\nof a short life, to study your own perfection, the honour of God, and\nthe good of your neighbour; so it is now your duty to enquire how the\nmost eminent saints have lived, to study all the _arts_ and _methods_\nof perfection, and to set no bounds to your love and gratitude to the\nbountiful author of so many blessings.\n\n\n3. It is now your duty to turn your _five talents_ into five more,\nand to consider how your _time_, and _leisure_, and _health_, and\n_fortune_ may be made so many happy means of purifying your own soul,\nimproving your fellow-creatures, and of carrying you at last to the\ngreatest heights of eternal glory.\n\nAs you have no _mistress_ to serve, so let your own soul be the object\nof your daily care and attendance.\n\nNourish it with _good works_, give it peace in _solitude_, get it\nstrength in _prayer_, make it wise with _reading_, enlighten it by\n_meditation_, make it tender with _love_, sweeten it with _humility_,\nenliven it with _psalms_ and _hymns_, and comfort it with frequent\n_reflections_ upon future glory. Keep it in the presence of God, and\nteach it to imitate those _guardian angels_; which tho\u2019 they attend on\nthe lowest of mankind, yet _always behold the face of our Father which\nis in heaven_.\n\nThis, _Serena_, is your profession. For as sure as God is one God,\nso sure it is, that he has but one command to all mankind, whether\nthey be bond or free, rich or poor; and that is, to act up to the\n_excellency_ of their nature, to live by _reason_, to walk in the\n_light_ of religion, to glorify God in all his _gifts_, and dedicate\nevery condition of life to his service.\n\nThis is the _one common_ command of God to all mankind. If you have\nan employment, you are to be thus reasonable, and holy in the exercise\nof it; if you have time and a fortune in your own power, you are to\nbe thus reasonable, and holy, in the use of all your time and all your\nfortune.\n\n\n4. The right use of every talent, is the indispensable duty of every\nbeing that is capable of knowing right or wrong.\n\nFor the reason why we are to do _any thing_ as unto God, and with\nregard to our relation to him, is the same reason why we are to do\n_every thing_ as unto God, and with regard to this relation.\n\nThat which is a reason for our being _wise_ and _holy_ in the\ndischarge of all our _business_, is the same reason for our being\nwise and holy in the use of all our _money_.\n\n*As we have always the _same natures_, and are every where the\nservants of the same God; as every place is equally full of his\npresence, and every thing is equally his gift; so we must do every\nthing as the servants of God; we must live in every place, as in\nhis presence; we must use every thing as that ought to be used which\nbelongs to God.\n\nEither this wisdom, and devotion is to go thro\u2019 every way of life, or\nit is to go through no part of life.\n\nIf we might forget _ourselves_, or forget God; if we might live by\nhumour or fancy in any thing, or at any time, or in any place, it\nwould be as lawful to do the same in every thing, and every time, and\nevery place.\n\n\n5. If therefore some people, fancy, that they must be grave and solemn\nat _church_, but may be _silly_ and _frantic_ at home; that they must\nlive by some rule on the _Sunday_, but may spend other days by chance;\nthat they must have some times of prayer, but may waste the rest of\ntheir time as they please; that they must give some money in _charity_,\nbut may squander away the rest as they have a mind; such people have\nnot considered the nature of religion, or the true reasons of piety.\nFor he that, upon principles of reason, can tell why it is good to be\nwise and heavenly-minded at _church_, can tell that \u2019tis good to have\nthe _same tempers_ in all other places. He that knows why he should\nspend any time well, knows it is never allowable to throw any time\naway. He that rightly understands the reasonableness of _charity_,\nwill know that it can never be excusable, to waste any of our money\nin pride and folly, or in any needless expences.\n\nFor every argument that shews the wisdom of charity, proves the wisdom\nof spending all our fortune well. Every argument that proves the\nreasonableness of having times of prayer, shews the reasonableness of\nlosing none of our time.\n\n\n6. *If any one can shew, that we need not _always_ act in the divine\npresence, that we need not use _every thing_ as the gift of God, that\nwe need not _always_ live by reason, and make religion the rule of all\nour actions, the same arguments would shew, that we need _never_ act\nas in the presence of God, nor make religion and reason the measure of\n_any_ of our actions. If therefore we are to live to God at any time,\nor in any place, we are to live unto him at all times, and in all\nplaces. If we are to use any thing as the gift of God, we are to use\nevery thing as his gift. If we are to do any thing by strict rules\nof reason and piety, we ought to do every thing in the same manner;\nbecause _reason_, and _wisdom_, and piety are as much the best things\nat _all times_, and in _all places_, as they are the best things at\n_any time_, or in _any_ place.\n\nIf it is our glory and happiness to have a _rational nature_, that\nis endued with wisdom and reason, that is capable of imitating the\ndivine nature; then it must be our glory and happiness, to improve\nour reason and wisdom, to act up to the excellency of our rational\nnature, and to imitate God in all our actions. They, therefore, who\nconfine their religion to _times_ and _places_, and some little rules\nof _retirement_, who think that it is being too strict to introduce\nreligion into _common life_, and make it give laws to all their\nactions and ways of living; they who think thus, not only mistake,\nbut they mistake the _whole nature_ of religion, who can think any\npart of their life is more easy, for being free from it. They may\nwell be said to mistake the _whole nature_ of wisdom, who don\u2019t think\nit desirable to be _always_ wise. He has not learned the _nature_ of\npiety, who thinks it too much to be pious in all his actions. He does\nnot sufficiently understand what _reason_ is, who does not earnestly\ndesire to live in every thing according to it.\n\nIf we had a religion that consisted in absurd superstitions, that had\nno regard to the perfection of our nature, people might well be glad\nto have some part of their life excused from it: but as the religion\nof the gospel is only the refinement of our best faculties, as it\nonly requires a life of the highest reason, as it only requires us\nto use this world, as in reason it ought to be used, to live in such\n_tempers_ as are the glory of intelligent beings, to walk in such\nwisdom as exalts our nature, and to practise such piety as will raise\nus to God; who can think it grievous, to live _always_ in the _spirit_\nof such a religion, to have _every part_ of his life full of it, but\nhe that would think it much more grievous, to be as the angels of God\nin heaven?\n\n\n7. Farther, as God is one and the same being, always acting like\nhimself, and suitable to his own nature; so it is the duty of every\nbeing that he has created, to live according to the nature that he has\ngiven it, and _always_ to act like itself.\n\nIt is therefore an immutable law of God, that all rational beings\nshould act _reasonably_ in _all_ their actions; not at this _time_,\nor in that _place_, or upon this occasion, or in the use of some\nparticular thing; but at _all_ times, in _all_ places, at _all_\noccasions, and in the use of _all_ things.\n\nWhen, therefore, any being that is endued with reason, does an\n_unreasonable_ thing at any time, or in any place, or in the use of\nany thing, it sins against the _great law_ of its nature, and against\nGod the author of that nature.\n\nThey, therefore, who plead for any _foolish_ fashions, _customs_\nand _humours_, for the misuse of our _time_ or _money_, plead for a\nrebellion against our nature, for a rebellion against God, who has\ngiven us reason for no other end, than to make it the _rule_ and\n_measure_ of all our ways of life.\n\n\n8. When, therefore, you are guilty of any _folly_ or _extravagance_,\nor indulge any _vain_ temper, don\u2019t consider it as a small matter; but\nconsider it as it is, acting _contrary_ to your _nature_; and then you\nwill see that there is nothing _small_ that is _unreasonable_, because\nall unreasonable ways are contrary to the nature of all rational\nbeings.\n\nThe infirmities of human life make such _food_ and _raiment_ necessary\nfor us as _angels_ do not want; but it is no more allowable for us to\nturn these necessities into _follies_, and indulge ourselves in the\nluxury of _food_, or the vanities of _dress_, than it is allowable\nfor _angels_ to act below the dignity of their proper state. For\na reasonable life, is as much the duty of all _men_, as it is the\nduty of all _angels_. These are not _speculative_ flights, but plain\nand _undeniable laws_, that are founded in the _nature_ of rational\nbeings, who, as such, are obliged to live by reason, and glorify God\nby a continual right use of their several talents. So that tho\u2019 men\nare not _angels_; yet they may know by what rules men are to act,\nby considering the state of angels. Our blessed Saviour has plainly\nturned our thoughts this way, by making this petition, _Thy will be\ndone on earth as it is in heaven_. A plain proof, that the obedience\nof _men_ is to imitate the obedience of _angels_; and that rational\nbeings on earth are to live unto God, as rational beings in heaven\nlive unto him.\n\n\n9. When, therefore, you would represent to your mind how Christians\nought to live unto God, and by what degrees of wisdom and holiness\nthey ought to use the things of this life, you must not look at the\nworld; but you must look up to the society of angels, and think what\nwisdom and holiness is fit to prepare you for such a state of glory.\nYou must look to all the _highest precepts_ of the gospel; you\nmust examine yourself by the _Spirit_ of Christ; you must think how\n_departed souls_ would live, if they were again to act the short part\nof human life; and what degrees of wisdom and holiness you will wish\nfor when you are leaving the world.\n\n\n10. And as Christianity consecrates all _states_ and _employments_ to\nGod, as it requires us to aspire after universal obedience, doing and\nusing every thing as the servants of God; so are we more especially\nobliged to observe this exactness in the use of our _estates_ and\n_fortunes_.\n\nThe reason is plain, if we only consider, that our _estate_ is as much\nthe gift of God, as our _eyes_, or our _hands_, and is no more to be\nburied, or thrown away at pleasure, than we are to pull out our eyes,\nor throw away our limbs.\n\nBut besides this consideration, there are several other important\nreasons why we should be exact in the use of our estates.\n\n\n11. *_First_, because the manner of using our money, enters so far\ninto the business of every day, and makes so great a part of our\ncommon life, that our _common life_ must be much of the same nature,\nas our _common way_ of spending our estate. If reason and religion\ngovern us in this, then reason and religion have got great hold of us;\nbut if _humour_, _pride_, and _fancy_ are the measures of our spending\nour estate, then humour, pride, and fancy will have the direction of\nthe greatest part of our life.\n\n\n12. Another reason is, because our money is capable of being used to\nthe most excellent purposes, and is so great a means of doing good.\nIf we waste it, we don\u2019t waste a trifle that signifies little; but we\nwaste that which might be as eyes to the _blind_, as a husband to the\n_widow_, as a father to the _orphan_. If a man had _eyes_, and _hands_,\nand _feet_, that he could give to those that wanted them; if he\nshould either lock them up in a _chest_, or please himself with some\n_needless_ or _ridiculous_ use of them, instead of giving them to his\nbrethren that were _blind_ and _lame_, should we not justly reckon\nhim an inhuman wretch? If he should rather chuse to amuse himself\nwith _furnishing_ his house with those things, than to intitle himself\nto an eternal reward, by giving them to those that wanted _eyes_ and\n_hands_, might we not justly reckon him mad?\n\nNow _money_ has much the nature of _eyes_ and _feet_: if we either\nlock it up in _chests_, or waste it in _needless_ and _ridiculous_\nexpences whilst the poor and the distressed want it for their\nnecessary uses; if we consume it in the _ridiculous ornaments_ of\napparel, whilst others are starving in _nakedness_, we are not far\nfrom the cruelty of him that chuses rather to adorn his house with\nthe _hands_ and _eyes_, than to give them to those that want them.\nIf we indulge ourselves in such expensive enjoyments, to satisfy no\n_real want_, rather than to entitle ourselves to an eternal reward, by\ndisposing of our money well, we are guilty of his madness, that rather\nchuses to lock up _eyes_ and _hands_, than to make himself for ever\nblessed, by giving them to those that want them.\n\n\n13. *_Thirdly_, if we waste our money, we are not only guilty of\nmaking that useless, which is so powerful a means of doing good,\nbut we turn this useful talent into a powerful means of corrupting\nourselves; because so far as it is spent _wrong_, so far it is spent\nin the support of some _wrong temper_, in gratifying some vain and\nunreasonable desires.\n\n*As _wit_ and _fine parts_ cannot be only lost, but expose those that\nhave them to greater follies, if they are not strictly devoted to\npiety; so _money_, if it is not used strictly according to reason and\nreligion, cannot only be trifled away, but it will betray people into\n_greater_ follies, and make them live a more silly and extravagant\nlife, than they would have done without it. If therefore you don\u2019t\nspend your money in doing good to others, you spend it to the hurt\nof yourself. You will act like a man that should refuse to give a\n_cordial_ to a sick friend, tho\u2019 he could not drink it himself without\n_inflaming_ his blood. For this is the case of _superfluous_ money; if\nyou give it to those that want it, it is a _cordial_; if you spend it\nupon yourself, in something that you do not want, it only _inflames_\nand disorders your mind, and makes you worse than you would be without\nit.\n\n\n14. Consider again the fore-mentioned comparison; if the man that\nwould not make a right use of spare _eyes_ and _hands_, should, by\ncontinually trying to use them himself, spoil his own eyes and hands,\nwe might accuse him of still greater madness.\n\nNow this is truly the case of riches spent upon ourselves in _vain_\nand _needless_ expences: in trying to use them where they have no\nreal use, we only use them to our hurt, in creating unreasonable\ndesires, in nourishing ill tempers, in indulging our passions, and\nsupporting a vain turn of mind. For high _eating_ and _drinking_, fine\n_cloaths_, and fine _houses_, state and equipage, gay _pleasures_ and\n_diversions_, do all of them hurt and disorder our hearts; they are\nthe food and nourishment of all the folly and weakness of our nature,\nand are certain means to make us vain and worldly in our tempers;\nthey are all of them the support of something that ought not to be\nsupported; they are contrary to that sobriety of heart which relisheth\ndivine things; they are like so many weights upon our mind, that\nmake us less able, and less inclined to raise up our thoughts and\naffections to the things that are above.\n\nSo that money, thus spent, is not merely _wasted_, but spent to bad\npurposes; to the corruption of our hearts, and make us less able to\nlive up to the doctrines of the gospel. It is like keeping money from\nthe poor, to buy poison for ourselves.\n\nFor so much as is spent in the vanity of _dress_, is so much laid out\nto _fix_ vanity in our minds. So much as is laid out for _idleness_\nand _indulgence_, is so much given to render our hearts _dull_ and\n_sensual_. So much as is spent in _state_ and _equipage_, is so much\nspent to _dazzle_ your own eyes, and render you the idol of your own\nimagination. And so in every thing, when you go from _reasonable_\nwants, you only support some unreasonable _temper_, some _turn_ of\nmind, which every Christian is called upon to _renounce_.\n\nSo that, whether we consider our fortune as a trust from God, or\nthe _great good_ it enables us to do, or the great harm that it does\nto ourselves, if idly spent; on all these accounts it is absolutely\nnecessary to make reason and religion the strict rule of using all our\nfortune.\n\n\n15. Every exhortation in scripture to satisfy only such wants as God\nwould have satisfied; every exhortation to be spiritual and heavenly,\npressing after a glorious change of our nature; every exhortation\nto love our neighbours as ourselves, is a command to be _strictly\nreligious_ in the use of our money. This use of our worldly goods,\nis so much the doctrine of the New Testament, that you cannot read a\nchapter without being taught something of it. I shall only produce one\npassage of scripture, which is sufficient to justify all that I have\nsaid.\n\n_When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, and all his holy angels\nwith him, then he shall sit upon the throne of his glory. And before\nhim shall be gathered all nations; and he shall separate them one from\nanother, as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats; and he shall\nset the sheep on his right-hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall\nthe King say unto them on his right-hand, Come ye blessed of my Father,\ninherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:\nfor I was hungry, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me\ndrink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked and ye cloathed me:\nI was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.\nThen shall he say unto them on the left-hand, Depart from me ye cursed,\ninto everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: for I\nwas hungry, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no\ndrink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye cloathed\nme not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. These shall go\naway into everlasting punishment; but the righteous into life eternal._\n\n\n16. I have quoted this passage at length, because if one looks at the\nway of the world, one would hardly think Christians had ever read this\nscripture.\n\nSome people look upon this text only as a general recommendation of\n_occasional_ works of _charity_; whereas it shews the necessity, not\nonly of occasional charities, but of such an _entire charitable life_,\nas is a continual exercise of all such works of charity as we are able\nto perform.\n\nYou own that there is no salvation but in the performance of these\ngood works. Who is it, therefore, that may be said to have performed\nthese good works? Is it he that has _sometime_ assisted a _prisoner_,\nor relieved the poor or sick? This would be as absurd as to say, that\nhe had performed the duties of _devotion_, who had sometime said his\nprayers. Is it, therefore, he that has _several times_ done these\nworks of charity? This can no more be said, than he can be said to be\nthe truly _just_ man, who had done acts of justice _several times_.\nWhat is the rule therefore, or measure, of performing these good\nworks?\n\nNow the rule is very _plain_ and _easy_, and such as is _common_ to\nevery other _virtue_, as well as to charity. Who is the humble, or\nmeek, or just, or faithful man? Is it he that has _several times_ done\nacts of humility, meekness, justice, or fidelity? No; but it is he\nthat lives in the _habitual exercise_ of these virtues. In like manner,\nhe only can be said to have performed those works of charity, who\nlives in the _habitual exercise_ of them to the utmost of his power.\nHe only has performed the duty of divine love, who loves God with all\nhis heart, and _mind_, and _strength_. And he only has performed the\nduty of these good works, who has done them with all his heart, and\nmind, and strength. For there is no other measure of our doing good,\nthan our power of doing it.\n\n\n17. The apostle _Peter_ puts this question to our blessed Saviour,\n_Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him,\ntill seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee until\nseven times, but until seventy times seven._ Not as if after this\nnumber of offences, a man might then cease to forgive; but the\nexpression is to shew us, that we are not to bound our forgiveness\nby _any number_ of offences, but are to _continue_ forgiving the most\nrepeated offences against us. If therefore a man ceases to forgive his\nbrother, because he has forgiven him _often_ already: if he excuses\nhimself from forgiving this man, because he has forgiven _several\nothers_, such a one breaks this law of Christ, concerning the\nforgiving one\u2019s brother.\n\nNow the rule of _forgiving_ is also the rule of _giving_. You are not\nto _give_, or do good to _seven_, but to _seventy times seven_. You\nare not to cease from giving, because you have given often to the same\nperson, or to other persons; but must account yourself as much obliged\nto continue relieving those that continue in want, as you was obliged\nto relieve them once or twice. Had it not been in your power, you had\nbeen excused from relieving any person _once_; but if it is in your\npower to relieve people _often_, it is as much your duty to do it\noften as it is the duty of others to do it but seldom, because they\nare but seldom able.\n\n\n18. And the reason of all this is plain; there is the same _necessity_\nof being charitable at one time as at another. It is as much the best\nuse of our money, to be _always_ doing good with it, as it is the best\nuse of it at any _particular time_; so that that which is a reason for\na charitable _action_, is as good a reason for a charitable _life_;\nfor charity has nothing to recommend it to-day, but what will be the\nsame recommendation of it to-morrow; and you cannot neglect it at\none time, without being guilty of the same sin as if you neglected\nit at another time. As sure, therefore, as these works of charity are\nnecessary to salvation, so sure is it that we are to do them to the\nutmost of our power; not to-day, or to-morrow, but through the whole\n_course_ of our life. If therefore it be our duty at any time to deny\nourselves any _needless_ expences, that we may have to give to those\nthat want, it is as much our duty to do so at all times, that we may\nbe able to do more good: for if it is at any time a sin to prefer\n_needless_ expence to works of charity, it is so at all times. If it\nis ever necessary to take care of these works of charity, and to see\nthat we make ourselves in some degree capable of doing them; it is as\nnecessary to take care to make ourselves as capable as we can be, of\nperforming them in all the parts of our life.\n\n\n19. Either therefore you must say, that you need never perform any of\nthese good works; or you must own, that you are to perform all your\nlife in as high a degree as you are able. There is no middle way any\nmore than there is a middle way between temperance and intemperance.\nIf you do not strive to fulfil all charitable works, if you neglect\nany of them that are in your power, let it be when it will, or where\nit will, you number yourself amongst those that want Christian charity;\nbecause it is as much your duty to do good with all that you have, as\nit is your duty to be temperate in all that you eat or drink.\n\n\n20. Hence appears the _necessity_ of renouncing all those _foolish_\nand _unreasonable_ expences, which the folly of mankind has made so\ncommon and fashionable in the world. For if it is necessary to do\ngood works as far as you are able, it must be as necessary to renounce\nthose needless ways of spending money, which render you unable to do\nworks of charity.\n\nYou must therefore no more conform to these ways of the world, than\nyou must conform to the vices of the world. You must no more spend\nwith those that idly waste their money as their own humour leads\nthem, than you must drink with the drunken; because a course of such\nexpences is no more consistent with a life of _charity_, than excess\nin drinking is consistent with a _life of sobriety_. When therefore\nany one tells you of the lawfulness of expensive apparel, or the\ninnocency of pleasing yourself with costly satisfactions, only imagine\nthat the same person was to tell you, that you need not do works of\ncharity, that Christ does not require you to do good to your poor\nbrethren, as unto him, and then you will see the wickedness of such\nadvice; for, to tell you that you may live in such expences, as make\nit impossible for you to live in the exercise of good works, is the\nsame thing as telling you, that you need not have any care about such\ngood works themselves.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n _How the imprudent use of an estate corrupts all the tempers,\n and fills the heart with poor and ridiculous passions;\n represented in the character of |Flavia|._\n\n\n1. IT has already been observed, that a religious care is to be used\nin the manner \u2666of spending our _money_ or _estate_; because the manner\nof spending our estate makes so great a part of our common life, and\nis so much the business of every day, that, according as we are wise\nor imprudent in this, the _whole course_ of our _lives_ will be wise,\nor full of folly.\n\n \u2666 duplicate word \u2018of\u2019 removed\n\nPersons that receive instructions of piety with _pleasure_, often\nwonder that they make no farther progress in that religion which they\nso much _admire_.\n\nNow the reason is this: religion lives only in their _head_, but\nsomething else has possession of their hearts; and therefore, they\ncontinue from _year_ to _year_ mere _admirers_ and _praisers_ of piety,\nwithout ever coming up to its precepts.\n\n\n2. If it be asked, why religion does not get possession of their\nhearts? It is not because they live in _gross sins_ or _debaucheries_;\nbut because their _hearts_ are constantly _employed_, _perverted_, and\nkept in a wrong state, by the _indiscreet use_ of such things as are\n_lawful_.\n\nThe use and enjoyment of their estates is _lawful_, and therefore it\nnever comes into their heads to imagine any danger from that quarter.\nThey never reflect that there is a _vain_ and _imprudent_ use of their\nestates: which, though it does nor destroy like _gross sins_, yet\nso _disorders_ the heart, and supports it in such _sensuality_ and\n_dullness_, as makes it incapable of receiving the life and spirit of\npiety.\n\nFor our souls may be rendered incapable of all virtue, merely by the\nuse of _innocent_ and _lawful_ things.\n\n\n3. What is more innocent than _rest_? And yet what more dangerous than\nsloth and idleness? What is more lawful than _eating_ and _drinking_?\nAnd yet what more destructive of all virtue, and fruitful of all vice,\nthan _sensuality_.\n\nNow, it is for want of exactness in the use of these _innocent_ and\n_lawful things_, that religion cannot get possession of our hearts:\nand it is in the right management of ourselves, as to these things,\nthat the _art_ of holy living chiefly consists.\n\n\n4. _Gross sins_ are plainly seen, and easily avoided by persons that\nprofess religion: but the _indiscreet_ use of innocent and lawful\nthings, as it does not _shock_ our consciences, so it is difficult to\nmake people at all sensible of the danger of it.\n\nA _gentleman_ that expends all his estate in _sports_, and a _woman_\nthat lays out all her fortune upon herself, can hardly be persuaded\nthat the spirit of religion cannot subsist in such a way of life.\n\nThese persons may live free from debaucheries; they may be friends of\nreligion, so far as to _praise_ and _speak_ well of it: but it cannot\ngovern their hearts, and be the spirit of their actions, till they\nchange their way of life.\n\nFor a _woman_ that loves _dress_, that thinks no expence too great to\nbestow upon the _adorning_ of her person, cannot stop there; for that\ntemper draws a _thousand_ other follies along with it, and will render\nthe whole course of her life, her _business_, her _conversation_, her\n_hopes_, her _fears_, her _taste_, her _pleasures_ and _diversions_,\nall suitable to it.\n\n\n5. *_Flavia_ and _Miranda_ are two maiden sisters, that have each of\nthem _two hundred pounds_ a year: they buried their parents twenty\nyears ago, and have since that time spent their estate as they pleased.\n\n*_Flavia_ has been the wonder of all her friends, for her excellent\nmanagement, in making so surprizing a figure in so moderate a fortune.\nSeveral _ladies_ that have twice her fortune, are not able to be\nalways so _genteel_, and so constant at all places of _pleasure_\nand _expence_. She has every thing that is in the _fashion_, and\nis in every place where there is any _diversion_. _Flavia_ is very\n_orthodox_; she talks warmly against _heretics_ and _schismatics_,\nis generally at _church_, and often at the _sacrament_. She once\ncommended a _sermon_ that was against the _vanity_ of dress, and\nthought it was very just against _Lucinda_, whom she takes to be a\ngreat deal finer than she need be. If any one asks _Flavia_ to do some\nthing in charity, if she likes the person that makes the proposal, or\nhappens to be in a right _temper_, she will toss him _half a crown_,\nor a _crown_; and tell him, if he knew what a _long millener\u2019s bill_\nshe had just received, he would think it a great deal for her to\ngive. A _quarter_ of a year after this, she hears a _sermon_ upon the\n_necessity_ of charity; she thinks the man preaches well; that it is\na very _proper_ subject; that people want much to be put in mind of\nit; but she applies nothing to herself, because she remembers that she\ngave a _crown_ some time ago when she could so ill spare it.\n\n\n6. As for _poor_ people themselves, she will admit of no complaints\nfrom them: she is very positive they are all _cheats_ and _liars_, and\nwill say any thing to get relief; and therefore, it must be a sin to\nencourage them in their evil ways.\n\nYou would think _Flavia_ had the tenderest conscience in the world,\nif you was to see how _scrupulous_ she is of the guilt and danger of\n_giving_ amiss.\n\n\n7. She buys all books of _wit_ and _humour_, and has made an expensive\ncollection of all our _English poets_. For she says, one cannot have a\n_true taste_ of any of them, without being conversant with them all.\n\nShe will sometimes read a _book_ of _piety_, if it is a short one,\nif it is much commended for _stile_ and _language_, and she can tell\nwhere to _borrow_ it.\n\n_Flavia_ is very _idle_, and yet very fond of _fine work_. This makes\nher often _sit_ working in _bed_ until _noon_, and be told many a\n_long story_ before she is up; so that I need not tell you her morning\ndevotions are not _always_ rightly performed.\n\n_Flavia_ would be a _miracle_ of piety, if she was but half so careful\nof her soul as she is of her body. The rising of a _pimple_ in her\nface, the sting of a _gnat_, will make her keep her room two or three\ndays; and she thinks they are very _rash_ people, that don\u2019t take care\nof things in time. This makes her so over-careful of her _health_,\nthat she never thinks she is well enough; and so _over-indulgent_,\nthat she can never be really well. So that it costs her a great deal\nin _sleeping-draughts_ and _waking-draughts_, in _spirits_ for the\nhead, in _drops_ for the nerves, in _cordials_ for the stomach, and\nin _saffron_ for her _tea_.\n\n\n8. If you visit _Flavia_ on the _Sunday_ you will always meet _good\ncompany_: you will know what is doing in the world; you will hear the\nlast _lampoon_, be told who wrote it, and who is meant by every name\nthat is in it. You will hear what _plays_ were acted that week, which\nis the finest song in the _opera_, who was intolerable at the last\nassembly, and what games are most in fashion. _Flavia_ thinks they are\n_Atheists_ that play at _cards_ on the _Sunday_; but she will tell you\nthe _nicety_ of all the games, what cards she held, how she _played_\nthem, and the _history_ of all that happened at _play_, as soon as she\ncomes from _church_. If you would know who is _rude_ and _ill-natured_,\nwho is _vain_ and _foppish_, who lives too _high_, and who is in\n_debt_; if you would know what is the quarrel at a _certain house_,\nor who and who are in _love_; if you would know how late _Belinda_\ncomes home at night, what _cloaths_ she has bought, how she loves\n_compliments_, and what a long story she told at such a place; if you\nwould know how cross _Lucius_ is to his _wife_, what ill-natured\nthings he says to her when _nobody_ hears him; if you would know how\nthey hate one another in their _hearts_, though they appear so kind in\npublic, you must visit _Flavia_ on the _Sunday_. But still she has so\ngreat a regard for the holiness of the day, that she has turned a poor\nold widow out of her house, as a _prophane wretch_, for having been\nfound once _mending her cloaths_ on the _Sunday_ night.\n\nThus lives _Flavia_; and if she lives ten years longer, she will have\nspent about _fifteen hundred and sixty Sundays_ after this manner.\nShe will have wore about _two hundred_ different suits of cloaths.\nOut of this _thirty years_ of her life, fifteen of them will have been\ndisposed of in _bed_; and of the remaining fifteen, about _fourteen_\nof them will have been consumed in eating, drinking, dressing,\nvisiting, conversation, reading and hearing plays and romances; at\noperas, assemblies, balls, and diversions. For you may reckon all\nthe time she is _up_, thus spent, except about an _hour_ and half\nthat is disposed of at church, most _Sundays_ in the year. With great\nmanagement, and under mighty rules of \u0153conomy, she will have spent\n_sixty hundred_ pounds upon herself, bating only some _shillings_,\n_crowns_, or _half crowns_, that have gone from her in _accidental_\ncharities.\n\n\n9. I shall not take upon me to say, that it is impossible for _Flavia_\nto be saved; but thus much must be said, that her whole life is in\ndirect opposition to all those _tempers_ and _practices_ which the\ngospel has made necessary to salvation.\n\n*If you was to hear her say, that she had lived all her life like\n_Anna_ the prophetess, _who departed not from the temple, but served\nGod with fastings and prayers night and day_, you would look upon her\nas very extravagant; and yet this would be no greater an extravagance,\nthan for her to say, that she had been _striving to enter in at the\nstraight gate_, or making any one doctrine of the gospel a rule of her\nlife.\n\n*She may as well say, that she lived with our Saviour when he was\nupon earth, as that she has lived in imitation of him, or made it\nany part of her care to live in such tempers, as he required of all\nthose that would be his disciples. She may as truly say, that she has\nevery day _washed the saints feet_, as that she has lived in Christian\n_humility_ and _poverty_ of Spirit; and as reasonably think, that\nshe has taught a _charity-school_, as that she has lived in _works\nof charity_. She has as much reason to think, that she has been\na _sentinel_ in an army, as that she has lived in _watching and\nself-denial_. And it may as fairly be said, that she lived by the\nlabour of her hands, as that she had _given all diligence to make her\ncalling and election sure_.\n\n\n10. And here it is to be well observed, that the _poor_, _vain_ turn\nof mind, the _folly_ and _vanity_ of this whole life of _Flavia_,\nis all owing to the manner of using her estate. It is this that has\nformed her _spirit_, that has given life to every _idle temper_, that\nhas supported every _trifling passion_, and kept her from all thoughts\nof a prudent, useful, and devout life.\n\nWhen her parents died, she had no thoughts about her two hundred\npounds a year; but that she had so much money to do what she\nwould with, to spend upon herself, and purchase the pleasures and\ngratifications of all her passions.\n\nAnd it is this setting out, this false judgment, and indiscreet use of\nher fortune, that has filled her whole life with the same indiscretion,\nand kept her from thinking of what is _right_, and _wise_, and pious\nin every thing else.\n\nIf you have seen her delighted in _plays_ and _romances_, in _scandal_\nand _backbiting_, easily _flattered_, and soon _affronted_; if you\nhave seen her devoted to _pleasures_ and _diversions_, a slave to\nevery _passion_ in its turn, nice in every thing that concerned\nher _body_ or _dress_, careless of every thing that might benefit\nher _soul_, always wanting some new entertainment, and ready for\nevery _happy_ invention in _shew_ or _dress_, it was because she had\n_purchased_ all these tempers with her yearly revenue.\n\n\n11. She might have been _humble_, _serious_, _devout_, a lover of\n_good books_, an admirer of _prayer_ and retirement, careful of her\ntime, diligent in _good works_, full of _charity_ and the love of\nGod; but that the imprudent use of her estate forced all the contrary\ntempers upon her.\n\nAnd it was no wonder that she should turn her _time_, her _mind_, her\n_health_ and strength to the same uses that she turned her fortune. It\nis owing to her being wrong in so great an _article_ of life, that you\ncan see nothing wise, or pious, in any other part of it.\n\n\n12. And as _Flavia_ is undone by the unreasonable use of her fortune;\nso the _lowness_ of most peoples virtue, the _imperfections_ of their\npiety, and the disorders of their _passions_, are generally owing to\ntheir imprudent use of lawful things.\n\nMore people are kept from a true sense of religion, by a _regular\nkind_ of sensuality than by gross _drunkenness_. More men live\nregardless of the great duties of piety, through too _great a concern_\nfor worldly goods, than through _direct injustice_.\n\n\n13. This man would perhaps be devout, if he was not a _virtuoso_.\nAnother is deaf to all the motives to piety, by indulging an _idle_,\n_slothful_ temper.\n\nCould you cure this man of his _curiosity_ and _inquisitive_ temper,\nor that of his _false_ satisfaction and thirst after _learning_, you\nneed do no more to make them both become men of great piety.\n\nIf this _woman_ would make _fewer visits_, or that not be _always\ntalking_, they would neither of them find it hard to be affected with\nreligion.\n\nWould we therefore make a real progress in religion, we must not only\nabhor _gross_ and _notorious_ sins; but regulate the _innocent_ and\n_lawful_ parts of our behaviour, and put the common actions of life\nunder the rules of discretion and piety.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n _How the wise and pious use of an estate carrieth us to\n all the virtues of the Christian life; represented in the\n character of |Miranda|._\n\n\n1. MIRANDA (the sister of _Flavia_) is a sober, reasonable Christian.\nAs soon as she was mistress of her _time_ and _fortune_, it was\nher first thought how she might _best fulfil_ every thing that God\nrequired of her in the use of them, and make the best use of this\nshort life. She depends upon the truth of what our blessed Lord hath\nsaid, _that there is but one thing needful_; and therefore makes her\nwhole life but one continual labour after it. She has but one reason\nfor doing, or not doing, for liking, or not liking any thing; and that\nis, the _will_ of God. She is not so weak as to pretend to add, what\nis called the _fine lady_, to the true Christian; _Miranda_ thinks\ntoo well, to be taken with the sound of such silly words. She has\nrenounced the world, to follow Christ in the exercise of humility,\ncharity, devotion, abstinence, and heavenly affections; and that is\n_Miranda_\u2019s fine breeding.\n\nWhilst she was under her _mother_, she was forced to live in\n_ceremony_, to sit up late at _nights_, to be in the folly of every\n_fashion_, to go loaded with _finery_ to the holy sacrament, to be in\nevery polite _conversation_, to hear prophaneness at the _play-house_,\nand wanton songs and love-intrigues at the _opera_, to dance at public\nplaces, that _fops_ and _rakes_ might admire the fineness of her\n_shape_, and the _beauty_ of her motions. The remembrance of this way\nof life, makes her exceeding careful to maintain a contrary behaviour.\n\n\n2. _Miranda_ does not divide her duty between God, her neighbour, and\nherself; but she considers all as due to God, and so does every thing\nfor his sake. This makes her consider her _fortune_ as the gift of God,\nthat is to be used, as every thing is that belongs to God, for the\nwise and reasonable ends of a Christian life. Her fortune therefore\nis divided betwixt herself and several other poor people, and she\nhas only her part of _relief_ from it. She thinks it the same folly\nto indulge herself in needless expences, as to give to other people\nto spend in the same way; therefore, as she will not give a poor man\nmoney to go see a _puppet shew_; neither will she allow herself any\nto spend in the same manner, thinking it very proper to be as _wise_\nherself as she expects poor men should be. For is it a folly and a\ncrime in a _poor_ man, says _Miranda_, to waste what is given him\nin trifles, whilst he wants _meat_, _drink_, and _cloaths_? And is\nit less folly, or a less crime in me, to spend that money in silly\ndiversions, which might be so much better spent in _imitation_ of\nthe divine goodness, in works of kindness to my fellow-creatures?\nIf a poor man\u2019s own necessities are a reason why he should not waste\nany of his money idly, surely the necessities of the _poor_, and the\n_excellency_ of charity, is a much _greater reason_ why no one should\nwaste any of his money. For if he does so, he does not only, like the\npoor man, waste that which he wants himself; but that which is wanted\nfor the most noble uses, and which Christ himself is ready to receive\nat his hands. And if we are angry at a _poor_ man, when he throws away\nthat which should buy his own bread, how must we appear in the sight\nof God, if we make a _wanton_ idle use of that which would buy bread\nand cloaths for our hungry and naked brethren, who are as near and\ndear to God as we are, and fellow-heirs of the same glory? This is\nthe spirit of _Miranda_: she is only one of a certain number of poor\n_people_ that are _relieved_ out of her fortune; and she only differs\nfrom them in the _blessedness_ of giving.\n\n\n3. If you was to see her, you would wonder what poor body it was, that\nwas so surprizingly _neat_ and _clean_. She has but one rule in her\ndress, to be always _clean_, and in the _cheapest_ things. Every thing\nabout her resembles the purity of her soul; and she is always clean\nwithout, because she is always pure within.\n\nEvery morning sees her _early_ at her prayers. She rejoices in the\nbeginning of every day, because it begins all her rules of holy living,\nand brings the fresh pleasure of repeating them. She is as _guardian\nangel_ to those that dwell about her, with her watchings and prayers,\nblessing the place where she dwells, and making intercession with God\nfor those that are asleep.\n\nHer devotions have had some intervals; before the light is suffered\nto enter into her sister\u2019s room. _Miranda_ does not know what it is\nto have a dull half-day; the returns of her hours of prayer, and her\nreligious exercises, comes too often to let any considerable part of\ntime lie heavy upon her hands.\n\n\n4. When you see her at _work_, you see the same wisdom that governs\nall her other actions. She is either doing something that is necessary\nfor herself, or necessary for others who want to be assisted. There\nis scarce a poor family in the neighbourhood, but wears something or\nother that has had the labour of her hands. Her pious mind neither\nwants the amusement, nor can bear with the folly of idle impertinent\nwork. When there is no _useful_ or _charitable_ work to be done,\n_Miranda_ will work no more.\n\nAt her table she lives strictly by this rule of holy scripture,\n_Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of\nGod_. This makes her begin and end every meal, as she begins and ends\nevery day, with acts of devotion. She eats and drinks only for the\nsake of living, and with so _regular_ an abstinence, that every _meal_\nis an exercise of _self-denial_. If _Miranda_ was to run a _race_\nfor her life, she would submit to a _diet_ that was proper for it;\nbut as the race which is set before her, is a race of _holiness_ and\n_heavenly_ affection, which she is to finish in a disordered body of\nearthly passions; so her every day diet has this one end, to make her\nbody fitter for this spiritual race. She does not weigh her meat in\na pair of _scales_; but she weighs it in a much better ballance: so\nmuch as gives a proper strength to her body, and renders it able and\nwilling to obey the soul, to join in psalms and prayers, and lift\nup eyes and hands towards heaven with greater readiness, so much is\n_Miranda\u2019s meal_. So that _Miranda_ will never have her eyes swell\nwith fatness, till she has _changed_ her religion.\n\n\n5. The holy scriptures, especially of the New Testament, are her\ndaily study; these she reads with a watchful attention, constantly\ncasting an eye upon herself, and trying herself by every doctrine that\nis there. When she has the New Testament in her hand, she supposes\nherself at the feet of our Saviour and his apostles; and makes every\nthing that she learns of them so many laws of her life. She receives\ntheir words with as much attention and reverence, as if she saw their\npersons, and knew that they were just come from heaven, on purpose to\nteach her the way that leads to it.\n\nShe thinks that the trying herself every day by the scripture, is the\nonly way to be ready for her trial at the last day.\n\nOf all human writings, the lives of pious persons, and eminent saints,\nare her greatest delight. In these she searches as for hidden treasure,\nhoping to find some secret of holy living, some uncommon degree of\npiety, which she may make her own. By this means _Miranda_ has her\nhead and heart stored with all the principles of wisdom and holiness.\nShe is so full of the one business of life, that she finds it\ndifficult to converse upon any other subject; and if you are in her\ncompany, you must be made wiser and better, whether you will or no.\n\n\n6. To relate her charity, would be to relate the history of every day\nfor twenty years; for so long has all her fortune been spent that way.\nShe has set up near twenty poor tradesmen that had failed in their\nbusiness, and saved as many from failing. She has educated several\npoor children, that were picked up in the streets, and put them in an\nhonest employment. As soon as any labourer is confined at home with\nany sickness, she sends him, till he recovers, twice the value of his\nwages, that he may have one part to give to his family, as usual, and\nthe other to provide things convenient for his sickness.\n\nIf a family seems too large to be supported by the labour of those\nthat can work in it, she pays their rent, and gives them something\nyearly towards their cloathing. By this means there are many poor\nfamilies that live in a comfortable manner, and are from year to year\nblessing her in their prayers. If there is any poor man or woman that\nis more than ordinary wicked, _Miranda_ has her eye upon them: she\nwatches their time of adversity; and if she can discover they are in\nstraits or affliction, she gives them speedy relief. She has this care\nfor this sort of people, because she once saved a profligate person\nfrom being carried to prison, who immediately became a true penitent.\n\n\n7. There is nothing in the character of _Miranda_ more to be admired\nthan this temper. For this tenderness towards the most abandoned\nsinners, is the highest instance of a godlike soul.\n\n_Miranda_ once passed by a house, where the _man_ and his _wife_ were\ncursing and swearing at one another in a most dreadful manner, and\nthree children crying about them. This sight so much affected her\ncompassionate mind, that she went the next day, and bought the three\nchildren, that they might not be ruined by living with such wicked\nparents. They now live with _Miranda_, are blessed with her care and\nprayers, and all the good works which she can do for them. They hear\nher talk, they see her live, they join with her in psalms and prayers.\nThe eldest of them has already converted his parents from their wicked\nlife, and shews a turn of mind so remarkably pious, that _Miranda_\nintends him for _holy orders_; that being thus saved himself, he may\ndo to other miserable objects, as she has done to him.\n\n_Miranda_ is a constant relief to poor people in their _misfortunes_\nand _accidents_. There are sometimes little misfortunes that happen\nto them, which of themselves they could never be able to overcome. The\ndeath of a _cow_, or a _horse_, or some little _robbery_, would keep\nthem in distress all their lives. She does not suffer them to grieve\nunder such accidents. She immediately gives them the full value of\ntheir loss, and makes use of it as a means of raising their minds to\nGod.\n\nShe has a great tenderness for _old people_ that are past their labour.\nThe parish allowance to such is seldom a comfortable maintenance. For\nthis reason they are the constant objects of her care. She adds so\nmuch to their allowance, as somewhat exceeds the wages they got when\nthey were young. This she does to comfort the infirmities of their\nage, that, being free from trouble, they may serve God in peace. She\nhas generally a large number of this kind, who, by her charities and\nexhortations, spend their last days in great piety.\n\n\n\u26669. _Miranda_ never wants compassion, even to common beggars;\nespecially those that are _old_ or _sick_, or that want _eyes_ or\n_limbs_. She hears their complaints with tenderness, gives them some\nproof of her kindness, and never rejects them with hard or reproachful\nlanguage, for fear of adding affliction to her fellow creatures.\n\n \u2666 Number 8 omitted in text.\n\nIf a poor traveller tells her, that he has neither _strength_, nor\n_food_, nor _money_ left, she never bids him go to the place from\nwhence he came, or tells him, that she cannot relieve him, because he\nmay be a _cheat_, and she does not know him; but she relieves him for\nthat reason, because he is a _stranger_, and _unknown_ to her. For it\nis the most noble part of charity, to be kind to those whom we never\nsaw before, and perhaps never may see again in this life. _I was a\nstranger, and ye took me in_, saith our blessed Saviour; but who can\nperform this duty, that will not relieve persons that are unknown to\nhim?\n\n_Miranda_ considers, that _Lazarus_ was a common beggar; that he was\nthe care of angels, and carried into _Abraham_\u2019s bosom. She considers,\nthat our blessed Saviour and his apostles were kind to _beggars_; that\nthey spoke comfortably to them, healed their diseases, and restored\neyes and limbs to the blind and lame; that _Peter_ said to the beggar\nthat wanted an alms from him, _Silver and gold have I none, but such\nas I have, give I thee; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise\nup and walk_. _Miranda_ therefore never treats beggars with disregard\nand aversion; but imitates the kindness of our Saviour and his\napostles towards them; and tho\u2019 she cannot, like them, work miracles\nfor their relief, yet she relieves them with that power that she hath;\nand may say with the apostle, _such as I have give I thee, in the name\nof Jesus Christ_.\n\nIt may be, says _Miranda_, that I may often give to those that do not\ndeserve it, or that will make an _ill use_ of my alms. But what then?\nIs not this the very method of divine goodness? Does not God make\n_his sun to rise on the evil and on the good_? Is not this the very\n_goodness_ that is recommended to us in scripture, that by imitating\nof it, we may be children of our Father which is in heaven, _who\nsendeth rain on the just and on the unjust_? And shall I with-hold a\nlittle _money_ or _food_ from my fellow-creature, for fear he should\nnot be good enough to receive it of me? Do I beg of God to deal with\nme, not according to my merit, but according to his own goodness; and\nshall I be so absurd, as to with-hold my charity from a poor brother,\nbecause he may perhaps not deserve it? Shall I use a _measure_ towards\nhim, which I pray God never to use towards me?\n\nBesides, where has the scripture made _merit_ the rule or measure of\ncharity? On the contrary, the scripture saith, _If thy enemy hunger,\nfeed him; if he thirst, give him drink_.\n\nNow this plainly teaches us, that the _merit_ of persons is to be no\nrule of our charity, but that we are to do acts of kindness to those\nthat _least_ of all deserve it. For if I am to _love_ and do good\nto my worst enemies; notwithstanding all their _spite_ and _malice_,\nsurely _merit_ is no measure of charity. If I am not to with-hold my\ncharity from such bad people, surely I am not to deny alms to poor\nbeggars, whom I do not know to be bad people.\n\n\n\u266611. You will perhaps say, that by this means I encourage people to\nbe _beggars_. But the same thoughtless objection may be made against\n_all kinds_ of charities, for they may encourage people to depend\nupon them. The same may be said against _forgiving_ our enemies, for\nit may _encourage_ people to do us hurt. The same may be said, even\nagainst the goodness of God, that by pouring his blessings on the evil\nand on the good, on the just and on the unjust, evil and unjust men\nare _encouraged_ in their wicked ways. The same may be said against\ncloathing the naked, or giving medicines to the sick, for that may\nencourage people to _neglect_ themselves, and be _careless_ of their\nhealth. But when the _love of God dwelleth in you_, and has filled you\nwith bowels of mercy, you will make no more such objections as these.\n\n \u2666 Number 10 omitted in text.\n\nWhen you are at any time turning away the _poor_, the _old_, the\n_sick_ and _helpless_ traveller, the _lame_, or the _blind_, ask\nyourself this question, Do I sincerely wish these poor creatures\nmay be as happy as _Lazarus_, that was carried by _angels_ into\n_Abraham_\u2019s bosom? Do I sincerely desire that God would make them\nfellow-heirs with me in eternal glory? Now if you search into your\nsoul, you will find that there is none of these motions there, that\nyou are wishing nothing of this. For it is impossible for any one\nheartily to wish a poor creature so _great_ a happiness, and yet\nnot have a heart to give him a _small_ alms. For this reason, says\n_Miranda_, as far as I can, I give to _all_, because I pray to God to\nforgive _all_; and I cannot refuse an alms to those whom I pray God\nto bless, whom I wish to be partakers of _eternal glory_; but am glad\nto shew some degree of love to such, as, I hope, will be the objects\nof the infinite love of God. And if, as our Saviour has assured us,\n_it be more blessed to give than to receive_, we ought to look upon\nthose that ask our alms, as so many _friends_ and _benefactors_ that\ncome to do us a greater good than they can receive; that come to be\n_witnesses_ of our charity, to be _monuments_ of our love, to _appear_\nfor us at the day of judgment, and to help us to a blessedness greater\nthan our alms can bestow on them.\n\n\n12. This is the spirit, and this is the life of _Miranda_; and if she\nlives ten years longer, she will have spent _sixty hundred_ pounds\nin charity; for that which she allows herself, may fairly be reckoned\namong her _alms_.\n\nWhen she dies, she must shine amongst _apostles_, and _saints_, and\n_martyrs_; she must stand among the _first servants_ of God, and be\nglorious among those that have fought the good fight, and finished\ntheir course with joy.\n\n\n13. Now this life of _Miranda_, however contrary to the fashion of the\nworld, is yet suitable to the true spirit of Christianity.\n\nTo live as she does, is as truly suitable to the gospel of Christ, as\nto be _baptized_, or receive the _sacrament_.\n\nHer spirit is that which animated the _saints_ of former ages; and\nit is because they lived as she does, that we now celebrate their\nmemories, and praise God for their examples.\n\nThere is nothing _whimsical_, _trifling_, or _unreasonable_ in her\ncharacter; but every thing there described, is a proper instance of\nsolid piety.\n\n\n14. It is as easy to shew, that it is _whimsical_ to go to church,\nas that it is whimsical to observe any of these rules. For all\n_Miranda_\u2019s rules of living to God, of spending her _time_ and\n_fortune_, of eating, working, dressing, and conversing, are as\nsubstantial parts of an holy life, as devotion and prayer.\n\nFor there is nothing to be said for the wisdom of _devotion_, but what\nis as good an argument for the wise and reasonable use of _apparel_.\n\nIf you fancy that it is your _only folly_, and that therefore there\ncan be no great matter in it, you are like those that think they are\nonly guilty of the folly of covetousness or ambition. Now though some\npeople may live so plausible a life, as to appear chargeable with no\nother fault than covetousness or ambition; yet the case is not as it\nappears, for covetousness or ambition cannot subsist in a heart that\nis in other respects rightly devoted to God.\n\nIn like manner, though some may spend most that they have in needless\nornaments, and yet seem in other respects truly pious, yet it is\ncertainly false; for it is impossible for a mind that is in a _true\nstate_ of religion, to be vain in the use of cloaths. Now to convince\nyou of this, let us suppose that some _eminent saint_, for instance,\nthe _Virgin Mary_ was sent into the world for a few years, and that\nyou was going to her to be edified by her piety, would you expect to\nfind her dressed out and adorned in fine and expensive cloaths? No:\nyou would know in your own mind, that it was as impossible as to find\nher learning to _dance_. Do but add _saint_, or _holy_, to any person,\neither _man_ or _woman_, and your own mind tells you immediately,\nthat such a character cannot admit of the vanity of fine apparel. A\n_saint_ finely dressed, is as great nonsense, as an _apostle_ in an\n_embroidered suit_. Every one\u2019s own natural sense convinces him of the\ninconsistency of these things.\n\n\n\u266616. Now what is the reason, that when you think of a _saint_,\nyou cannot admit the vanity of apparel? Is it not because it is\ninconsistent with such a right state of heart? And is not this a\ndemonstration, that where such vanity is admitted, there a right state\nof heart is wanted? For as certainly as the _Virgin Mary_ could not\nindulge herself, or conform to the vanity of the world in _dress_ and\n_figure_; so certain is it, that none can indulge themselves in this\nvanity, but those who want her piety of heart; and consequently it\nmust be owned, that all needless and expensive finery is the effect\nof a disordered heart.\n\n \u2666 Number 15 omitted in text.\n\n_Covetousness_ is not a crime, because there is any harm in _gold_\nor _silver_; but because it is a foolish and unreasonable state of\nmind, that is fallen from its true good, and sunk into such a poor\nand wretched satisfaction.\n\nIn like manner, the _expensive finery_ of dress is not a crime,\nbecause there is any thing good or evil in cloaths, but because the\nexpensive ornaments of cloathing shews a _foolish_ and _unreasonable_\nstate of heart, that is fallen from right notions of human nature,\nand turns the necessities of life into so many instances of pride and\nfolly.\n\n\n17. This therefore is the way that you are to judge of the crime of\nvain apparel: it is an offence against the _proper use_ of cloaths, as\ncovetousness is an offence against the proper use of money: it is an\nindulgence of _proud_ and _unreasonable_ tempers, an offence against\nthe _humility_ and _sobriety_ of the Christian spirit: it is an\noffence against all those doctrines that require you to do all to the\n_glory_ of God, and an offence against all those texts of scripture,\nthat command you to _love_ your neighbour as yourself, to _feed_ the\nhungry, to _cloath_ the naked, and do _all works_ of charity that you\nare able. So that you must not deceive yourself with saying, where\ncan be the harm of _cloaths_? For the covetous man might as well say,\nwhere can be the harm of _gold_ or _silver_? But you must consider,\nthat it is a great deal of harm to want that _wise_ and _reasonable_\nstate of heart, which is according to the spirit of religion, and\nwhich no one can have in the manner that he ought to have it, who\nindulges himself either in the _vanity_ of dress, or the _desire_ of\nriches.\n\n\n18. Some persons perhaps, who admire the life of _Miranda_, may\nsay, how can it be proposed as a common example? How can we that are\nmarried, or we who are under the direction of our parents, imitate\nsuch a life?\n\nIt is answered, just as you may imitate the life of our blessed\nSaviour and his apostles. The circumstances of our Saviour\u2019s life,\nand the state and condition of his apostles, were more different from\nyours than that of _Miranda_ is; and yet their life is the common\nexample that is proposed to all Christians.\n\nIt is their _spirit_ therefore, their piety, their love of God, that\nyou are to imitate, and not the particular form of their life.\n\nAct under God as they did, direct your common actions to that end\nwhich they did, practise such love of God, such charity to your\nneighbour, such humility and self-denial, as they did; and then,\nthough you are only teaching your own children, and St. _Paul_ is\nconverting nations, yet you are following his steps, and acting after\nhis example.\n\n\n19. Don\u2019t think therefore, that you can\u2019t or need not be like\n_Miranda_, because you are not in her state of life: for as the same\nspirit and temper would have made _Miranda_ a _saint_, tho\u2019 she had\nbeen forced to labour for a maintenance; so if you will aspire after\nher spirit, every _condition_ of life will furnish you with sufficient\nmeans of employing it.\n\n_Miranda_ is what she is, because she does every thing in the name,\nand with regard to her duty to God; and when you do the same, you will\nbe exactly like her, though you are never so different in your outward\nstate.\n\nYou are married, you say; therefore you have not your _time_ and\n_fortune_ in your power as she has.\n\nIt is true; therefore you cannot spend _so much_ time, nor _so much_\nmoney in the manner that she does.\n\nBut _Miranda_\u2019s perfection does not consist in this, that she spends\n_so much_ time, or _so much_ money in such a manner, but that she is\ncareful to make the best use of all the time and money which she has.\nDo you this, and then you are like _Miranda_.\n\nIf she has _two hundred pounds_ a year, and you have only _two mites_,\nhave you not the more reason to be exceeding exact in the wisest use\nof it? If she has a great deal of time, and you have but a little,\nought you not to be the more _watchful_ and _circumspect_, lest that\n_little_ should be lost?\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n _Shewing that all orders of men and women, of all ages, are\n obliged to devote themselves to God._\n\n\n1. I HAVE in the foregoing chapters shewn that all the parts of our\ncommon life, our _employments_, our _talents_ and _fortune_, are to\nbe made holy and acceptable unto God, by a wise and religious use of\nevery thing, and by directing our actions and designs to the glory of\nGod.\n\nI shall now shew, that this holiness of common life, this religious\nuse of every thing we have, is a devotion that is the duty of all\norders of Christian people.\n\n*_Fulvius_ has had a learned education, and taken his degrees in the\n_university_; he came from thence, that he might be free from any\nrules of life. He takes no employment upon him, nor enters into any\nbusiness, because he thinks that every employment or business calls\npeople to the just discharge of its several duties. He did not enter\ninto holy orders, because he looks upon it to be a state that requires\ngreat holiness of life, and it does not suit his temper to be so good.\nHe will tell you that he never intends to marry, because he cannot\noblige himself to that regularity of life, which he takes to be the\nduty of those that are at the head of a family. He refused to be\n_godfather_ to his nephew, because he will have no _trust_ of any kind\nto answer for.\n\n_Fulvius_ thinks that he is conscientious in this conduct, and is\ntherefore content with the most _idle_, _impertinent_, and _careless_\nlife.\n\nHe has no religion, no devotion, no pretences to piety. He lives by no\nrules, and thinks all is very well, because he is neither a _priest_,\nnor a _father_, nor a _guardian_, nor has any _employment_ or family\nto look after.\n\n\n2. *But _Fulvius_, you are a rational creature, and as such, are as\nmuch obliged to live according to _reason_, as a _priest_ is obliged\nto attend at the _altar_, or a _guardian_ to be faithful to his trust;\nif you live contrary to reason, you don\u2019t commit a small crime, you\ndon\u2019t break a small trust; but you break the _law_ of your nature,\nyou rebel against God who gave you that nature, and put yourself\namong those whom the God of _reason_ will punish as _apostates_ and\n_deserters_.\n\nThough you have no employment, yet as you are baptized into the\nprofession of the Christian religion, you are as much obliged to\nlive according to the holiness of the Christian spirit, as any man is\nobliged to be honest and faithful in his calling. If you abuse this\ngreat calling, you are not false in a small matter, but you abuse\nthe precious blood of Christ; you crucify the Son of God afresh; you\nneglect the highest instances of divine goodness; and it will be more\ntolerable for _Tyre_ and _Sidon at the day of judgment than for you_.\n\n\n3. It is therefore great folly for any one to think himself at liberty\nto live as he pleases, because he is not in such a state of life as\nsome others are: for if there is any thing dreadful in the abuse of\nany _trust_; if there is any thing to be feared for the neglect of any\ncalling, there is nothing more to be feared than the wrong use of our\n_reason_, nor any thing more to be dreaded, than the neglect of our\n_Christian calling_; which is not to serve the little uses of a short\nlife, but to redeem souls unto God, to fill heaven with saints, and\nfinish a kingdom of eternal glory.\n\nNo man therefore must think himself excused from the _exactness_ of\npiety, because he has chosen to be _idle_ and _independent_ in the\nworld; for the _necessities_ of a holy life are not founded in the\nseveral conditions of this life, but in the immutable nature of God\nand the nature of man. A man is not to be reasonable and holy, because\nhe is a _priest_, or a _father_ of a family; but he is to be a pious\npriest, and a good father, because piety and goodness are the _laws_\nof human nature. Could any man please God, without living according\nto _reason_ and _order_, there would be nothing displeasing to God\nin an _idle_ priest or a _reprobate_ father. He therefore that abuses\nhis _reason_, is like him that abuses the _priesthood_; and he that\nneglects the holiness of the _Christian life_, is as the man that\ndisregards the most _important trust_.\n\n\n4. If a man was to chuse to put out his eyes, rather than enjoy the\nlight, and see the works of God; if he should voluntarily kill himself,\nby refusing to eat and drink, every one would own that such a one was\na rebel against God, that justly deserved his highest indignation. You\nwould not say, that this was only sinful in a _priest_, or a _master_\nof a family, but in every man as such.\n\nNow wherein does the sinfulness of this behaviour consist? Does it\nnot consist in this, that he abuses his _nature_, and refuses to act\nthat part for which God had created him? But if this be true, then all\npersons that abuse their _reason_, that act a different part from that\nfor which God created them, are like this man, rebels against God, and\non the same account subject to his wrath.\n\n*Let us suppose that this man, instead of putting out his eyes, had\nonly employed them in looking at _ridiculous things_, or shut them up\nin _sleep_; that instead of _starving_ himself to death, by not eating\nat all, he should turn every meal into a _feast_, and eat and drink\nlike an _epicure_, could he be said to have lived more to the glory\nof God? Could he any more be said to act the part for which God had\ncreated him, than if he had put out his eyes, and starved himself to\ndeath?\n\nNow do but suppose a man extinguishing his _reason_, instead\nof putting out his _eyes_, and living in a course of folly and\nimpertinence, instead of starving himself to death, and then you\nhave found out as _great a rebel_ against God.\n\n\n\u26666. *If we consider mankind as a redeemed order of _fallen spirits_,\nthat are baptized into a fellowship with the Son of God; to be\ntemples of the Holy Ghost; to live according to his holy inspirations;\nto offer to God the reasonable sacrifice of an humble, pious, and\nthankful life; to purify themselves from the disorders of their fall;\nto make a right use of the means of grace, in order to be sons of\neternal glory: if we look at mankind in this true light, then we shall\nfind, that all tempers that are contrary to this holy society; all\nactions that make us unlike to Christ, have every thing in them that\ncan make us odious to God. So that tho\u2019 _pride_ and _sensuality_, do\nnot hurt civil society, as _cheating_ and _dishonesty_ do; yet they\nhurt that society, and oppose those ends, which are greater and more\nglorious in the eyes of God, than all the societies that relate to\nthis world.\n\n \u2666 Number 5 omitted in text.\n\n\n7. *Nothing therefore can be more foolish, than to imagine, that\nbecause we are private persons who have taken upon us no charge or\nemployment, therefore we may live more at large, indulge our appetites,\nand be less careful of holiness, for it is as good an excuse for\n_cheating_ and _dishonesty_; because he that abuses his _reason_,\nthat indulges himself in _lust_ and _sensuality_, and neglects to act\nthe wise reasonable part of a Christian, has every thing in his life\nto render him hateful to God, that is to be found in _cheating_ and\n_dishonesty_.\n\nIf therefore you rather chuse to be an _idle epicure_, than to be\n_unfaithful_; if you rather chuse to live in _lust_ and _sensuality_,\nthan to injure your neighbour in his goods, you have made no better a\nprovision for the favour of God, than he that rather chuses to rob a\n_house_, than to rob a _church_.\n\nFor the abusing of our own nature, is as great a disobedience against\nGod, as the injuring our neighbour; and he that wants piety towards\nGod, has done as much to damn himself, as he that wants honesty\ntowards men.\n\n\n8. Another argument to prove that all orders of men are obliged to\nbe thus holy in the common course of their lives, in the use of every\nthing that they enjoy, may be taken from our obligation to _prayer_.\n\nIt is granted, that _prayer_ is a duty that belongs to all states and\nconditions of men. Now, if we enquire, why no state of life is to be\nexcused from prayer, we shall find it as good a reason why every state\nof life is to be made a state of holiness in all its parts.\n\nFor the reason why we are to pray to God, and praise him with hymns\nand psalms of thanksgiving, is because we are to live wholly to God,\nand glorify him in all possible ways. It is not because the praises\nof _words_, or _forms_ of thanksgiving, are more particularly parts of\npiety, or more the worship of God than other things; but it is because\nthey are possible ways of expressing our dependance, our obedience\nand devotion to God. Now, if this be the reason of verbal praises and\nthanksgivings, because we are to live to God in all possible ways;\nthen we are equally obliged to glorify God in all other actions that\ncan be turned into acts of piety and obedience. And as actions are of\nmuch more significancy than words, it must be a much more acceptable\nworship of God to glorify him in all the actions of our common life,\nthan with any little form of words at any particular times.\n\nThus, if God is to be worshipped with forms of thanksgiving, he that\nis content and thankful in every accident of his life, because it\ncomes from God, praises God in a much higher manner, than he that\nhas some set times for singing of psalms. He that dares not say an\nill-natured word, or do an unreasonable thing, because he considers\nGod as every where present, performs a better devotion than he that\ndares not miss the church. To live in the world as a stranger and a\npilgrim, using all its enjoyments as if we used them not, making all\nour actions so many steps towards a better life, is offering a better\nsacrifice to God, than any forms of holy and heavenly prayers.\n\n\n9. To be humble in all our actions, to avoid every appearance of\npride and vanity, to be meek and lowly in our words, actions, dress,\nbehaviour, and designs, in imitation of our blessed Saviour, is\nworshipping God in a higher manner, than those do who have only\n_times_ to fall low on their knees. He that contents himself with\n_necessaries_, that he may give the _remainder_ to those that want it;\nthat dares not spend any money foolishly, because he considers it as a\ntalent from God, which must be used according to his will, praises God\nwith something more glorious than songs of praise.\n\nPrayers therefore are so far from being a sufficient devotion, that\nthey are the smallest parts of it. We are to praise God with words and\nprayers, because it is a possible way of glorifying God. But then, as\nwords are but small things in themselves, as times of prayer are but\nlittle, if compared with the rest of our lives; so that devotion which\nconsists in times and forms of prayer, is but a very small thing, if\ncompared to that devotion which is to appear in every other part and\ncircumstance of our lives.\n\n\n10. Again, as it is an easy thing to worship God with forms of words,\nand to observe times of offering them unto him, so it is the smallest\nkind of piety.\n\nAnd, on the other hand, as it is more difficult to worship God with\nour substance, to honour him with the right use of our time, to offer\nto him the continual sacrifice of self-denial and mortification; as it\nrequires more piety to eat and drink only for such ends as may glorify\nGod, to undertake no labour, nor allow of any diversion, but where we\ncan act in the name of God; as it is most difficult to sacrifice all\nour corrupt tempers, and make piety to God the rule and measure of all\nthe actions of our common life; so the devotion of this kind is a much\nmore acceptable service to God, than those words of devotion which we\noffer to him either in the _church_ or in our _closet_.\n\nEvery sober reader will easily perceive, that I don\u2019t intend to lessen\nthe value of prayers, either public or private; but only to shew him,\nthat they are but a very slender part of devotion, when compared to a\ndevout life.\n\n\n11. *To see this in a yet clearer light, let us suppose a person to\nhave appointed times for praising God with psalms and hymns, and to\nbe strict in the observation of them; let it be supposed also, that\nin his common life he is restless and uneasy, full of murmurings and\ncomplaints at every thing, never pleased but by chance, but murmuring\nand repining at the very seasons, and having something to dislike in\nevery thing that happens to him. Now, can you conceive any thing more\nabsurd and unreasonable, than such a character as this? Is such a one\nto be reckoned _thankful_ to God, because he has _forms of praise_\nwhich he offers to him? Nay, is it not certain, that such forms of\npraise must be so far from being an acceptable devotion to God, that\nthey must be an abomination? Now the absurdity which you see in this\ninstance, is the same in any other part of our life. If our _common\nlife_ hath any contrariety to our prayers, it is the same abomination,\nas songs of thanksgiving in the mouths of murmurers.\n\nBended knees, whilst you are cloathed with pride: heavenly petitions,\nwhilst you are hoarding up treasures upon earth; holy devotions,\nwhilst you live in the follies of the world; prayers of meekness\nand charity, whilst your heart is the seat of spite and resentment;\nhours of prayer, whilst you give up days and years to idle diversions,\nimpertinent visits, and foolish pleasures, are as unacceptable a\nservice to God, as forms of thanksgiving from a person that lives in\nrepinings and discontent.\n\nSo that unless the common course of our lives be according to the\ncommon spirit of our prayers, our prayers are so far from being a\nsufficient degree of devotion, that they become an empty lip-labour;\nor, what is worse, a notorious hypocrisy.\n\n\n12. Seeing therefore we are to make the _spirit_ and _temper_ of our\nprayers the _common spirit and temper_ of our lives, this may convince\nus, that _all orders_ of people are to labour after the _same utmost_\nperfection of the Christian life. For as all Christians are to use\nthe same holy and heavenly devotions, as they are all with the same\nearnestness to pray for the Spirit of God; so is it a sufficient proof,\nthat all orders of people are, to the utmost of their power, to make\ntheir life agreeable to that one Spirit for which they all pray.\n\n*A _soldier_, or a _tradesman_, is not called to minister at the\n_altar_, or preach the gospel; but every soldier or tradesman is as\nmuch obliged to be devout, humble, holy, and heavenly-minded in all\nthe parts of his _common life_, as a _clergyman_ is obliged to be\nzealous, faithful, and laborious in all parts of his profession.\n\n\n13. *All men therefore, as men, have one and the same important\nbusiness, to act up to the excellency of their rational nature, and\nto make _reason_ and _order_ the law of all their designs and actions.\nAll Christians, as Christians, have one and the same calling, to live\naccording to the excellency of the Christian spirit, and to make the\nsublime precepts of the gospel the rule and measure of all their\ntempers in common life. The one thing needful to one, is the one thing\nneedful to all.\n\n*The _merchant_ is no longer to hoard up treasures upon earth; the\n_soldier_ is no longer to fight for glory; the great _scholar_ is no\nlonger to pride himself in the depths of science; but they must all,\nwith one spirit, _count all things but loss, for the excellency of the\nknowledge of Christ Jesus_.\n\n*The _fine lady_, must teach her eyes to weep, and be cloathed with\nhumility. The _polite gentleman_ must exchange the gay thoughts\nof wit and fancy, for a _broken and a contrite heart_. The man\nof _quality_ must so far renounce the dignity of his birth, as to\nthink himself miserable till he is _born again_. _Servants_ must\nconsider their service as done unto God. _Masters_ must consider their\nservants as their brethren in Christ, that are to be treated as their\nfellow-members of the mystical body of Christ.\n\n\n14. *_Young ladies_ must either devote themselves to piety, prayer,\nself-denial, and all good works in a _Virgin state_ of life, or else\nmarry to be holy, sober, and prudent in the care of a family; bringing\nup their children in piety, humility, and devotion, and abounding in\nall other good works, to the utmost of their capacity. They have no\nchoice of any thing else; but must devote themselves to God in one of\nthese states. They may chuse a married, or a single life; but it is\nnot left to their choice, whether they will make either state, a state\nof holiness, humility, and all other duties of \u2666the Christian life.\nIt is no more left in their power, because they have fortunes, or are\nborn of rich parents, to divide themselves betwixt God and the world,\nor take such pleasures as their fortune will afford them, than to be\nsometimes chaste and modest, and sometimes not.\n\n \u2666 \u2018he\u2019 replaced with \u2018the\u2019\n\n*They are not to consider how much religion may secure them a _fair\ncharacter_, or how they may add devotion to an _impertinent_, _vain_,\nand _giddy_ life; but must look into the _spirit_ and _temper_ of\ntheir prayers, into the _nature_ and _end_ of \u2666Christianity; and then\nthey will find, that whether married or unmarried, they have but one\nbusiness upon their hands; to be wise, and pious, and holy; not in\nlittle modes and forms of worship, but in the whole turn of their\nminds, in the whole form of their behaviour, and in the daily course\nof their common life.\n\n \u2666 \u2018Christianiiy\u2019 replaced with \u2018Christianity\u2019\n\n\n15. *_Young gentlemen_ must consider what our blessed Saviour said to\nthe young gentleman in the gospel; he bid _him sell all he had, and\ngive to the poor_. Now, though this text does not oblige _all_ people\nto sell _all_; yet it certainly obliges all kinds of people to _employ\nall_ their estates in such wise and reasonable ways, as may shew, all\nthey have is devoted to God; and that no part of it is kept from the\npoor, to be spent in needless, vain, and foolish expences.\n\n*If therefore _young gentlemen_ propose to themselves a life of\npleasure and indulgence; if they spend their estates in high living,\nin luxury and intemperance, in state and equipage, in pleasures and\ndiversions, in sports and gaming, and such like wanton gratifications\nof their foolish passions, they have as much reason to look upon\nthemselves to be _angels_, as to be disciples of Christ.\n\n*Let them be assured, that it is the one only business of a _Christian\ngentleman_, to distinguish himself by good works, to be eminent in the\nmost sublime virtues of the gospel, to bear with the ignorance and\nweakness of the vulgar, to be a friend and patron to all that dwell\nabout him, to live in the utmost heights of wisdom and holiness, and\nshew through the whole course of his life a true religious greatness\nof mind. They must aspire after such a gentility, as they might have\nlearnt from seeing the blessed Jesus, and shew no other spirit of a\ngentleman, but such as they might have got by living with the holy\napostles. They must learn to love God with all their heart, with\nall their soul, and with all their strength, and their neighbour as\nthemselves; and then they have all the greatness and distinction that\nthey can have here, and are fit for eternal happiness in heaven.\n\n\n16. Thus, in all orders and conditions, either of men or women,\nthis is the one holiness, which is to be the _common_ life of all\nChristians.\n\nThe _merchant_ is not to leave devotion to the clergyman, nor the\n_clergyman_ to leave humility to the _labourer_. Women of _fortune_\nare not to leave it to the poor of their sex, _to be discreet_,\n_chaste_, _keepers at home_, _to adorn themselves in modest apparel_,\n_shame-facedness_, and _sobriety_; nor _poor women_ to leave it to the\nrich to attend at the worship of God. _Great men_ must be eminent for\ntrue _poverty of spirit_, and people of a _low and afflicted_ state\nmust greatly rejoice in God.\n\nThe man of _strength_ and _power_ is to forgive and pray for his\nenemies, and the _innocent sufferer_, that is chained in prison, must,\nwith _Paul_ and _Silas_, at midnight sing praises unto God. For God\nis to be glorified, holiness is to be practised, and the spirit of\nreligion is to be the common spirit of every Christian in every state\nand condition of life.\n\n*For the Son of God did not come from above, to add an external form\nof worship to the several ways of life that are in the world, and\nso to leave people to live as they did before, in such tempers and\nenjoyments as the fashion and spirit of the world approves: but as\nhe came down from heaven, altogether divine and heavenly in his own\nnature; so it was to call mankind to a divine and heavenly life; to\nthe highest change of their whole nature and temper; to be born again\nof the Holy Spirit; to walk in the wisdom, and light, and love of God,\nand to be like him to the utmost of their power; to a mortification of\ntheir passions; and to live in such wisdom, and holiness, as might fit\nthem to enjoy God to all eternity.\n\n\n17. Whatever therefore is _foolish_, _vain_, or _earthly_, or\n_sensual_ in the life of a Christian, is something that ought not to\nbe there. But if any thing of this kind runs through the _course_ of\nour whole life, if we allow ourselves in things that are either vain,\nfoolish, or sensual, we renounce our profession.\n\nFor as sure as Jesus Christ was wisdom and holiness; as sure as he\ncame to make us like himself, so sure is it, that none keep to their\nChristian profession, but they who, to the utmost of their power,\nlive a wise, and holy, and heavenly life. This, and this alone, is\nChristianity; universal holiness in every part of life, a heavenly\nwisdom in all our actions, not conforming to the spirit and temper of\nthe world, but turning all worldly enjoyments into means of piety and\ndevotion.\n\n\n18. And if it be the happiness and glory of a _bishop_ to live in this\nSpirit, full of these holy tempers, doing every thing as unto God, it\nis as much the glory and happiness of all men and women, whether young\nor old, to live in the same Spirit. And whoever can find any reasons\nwhy an _ancient bishop_ should be intent upon divine things, turning\nall his life into the highest exercises of piety and devotion, will\nfind them so many reasons why he should, to the utmost of his power,\ndo the same himself.\n\nIf you say that a _bishop_ must be an eminent example of Christian\nholiness, because of his high and sacred calling, you say right. But\nif you say, that it is more to his advantage to be exemplary, than\nit is yours, you greatly mistake. For there is nothing to make the\nhighest degrees of holiness desirable to a bishop, but what makes them\nequally desirable to every _young person_ of every family.\n\nFor an exalted piety, and the religious use of every thing, is as much\nthe glory and happiness of one state of life as it is of another.\n\n*Do but fancy what a spirit of piety you would have in the _best\nbishop_ in the world, how you would have him _love_ God, how you would\nhave him _imitate_ the life of our Saviour and his apostles, how you\nwould have him live _above_ the world, _shining_ in all the instances\nof a _heavenly life_, and then you have found out that Spirit, which\nyou ought to make the spirit of your own life.\n\nI desire every reader to dwell awhile upon this reflection, and\nperhaps he will find more conviction from it than he imagines. Every\none can tell how good and pious he would have some people to be; every\none knows how wise and reasonable a thing it is in a _bishop_, to\nbe entirely above the world, and be an eminent example of Christian\nperfection. As soon as you think of a _wise and ancient bishop_, you\nfancy some exalted degree of piety, a living example of all those holy\ntempers which you find described in the gospel.\n\n\n19. Now if you ask yourself, what is the happiest thing for a _young\nclergyman_ to do? You must be forced to answer, that nothing can be so\nhappy and glorious for him, as to be like that excellent, holy bishop.\n\n*If you go on, and ask what is the happiest thing for a _young\ngentleman_ or his _sisters_ to do? The answer must be the same; that\nnothing can be so happy or glorious for them, as to live in such\nhabits of piety, in such exercises of a divine life, as this good old\nbishop does. For every thing that is great and glorious in religion,\nis as much the true glory of every man or woman, as it is the glory\nof any bishop. If high degrees of divine love, if fervent charity,\nif spotless purity, if heavenly affection, if constant mortification,\nif frequent devotion, be the best and happiest way of life for any\nChristian, it is so for every Christian.\n\nAnd as the wisest _bishop_ in the world is he who lives in the\ngreatest heights of holiness, who is most exemplary in all the\nexercises of a divine life; so the _wisest youth_, the _wisest woman_,\nwhether married or unmarried, is she that lives in the highest degrees\nof Christian holiness, and all the exercises of a divine and heavenly\nlife.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n _Shewing how great devotion fills our lives with the greatest\n peace and happiness that can be enjoyed in this world._\n\n\n1. SOME people will perhaps object, that this living unto God in all\nthat we do, is too great a _restraint_ upon human life; and that, by\ndepriving ourselves of so many innocent pleasures, we shall render our\nlives, _dull_, _uneasy_, and _melancholy_.\n\n*It will produce just the contrary effect. Instead of making our\nlives dull and melancholy, it will render them full of content and\nstrong satisfactions; as by these rules we only change the childish\nsatisfactions of our _vain_ and _sickly_ passions, for the solid\nenjoyments, and real happiness of a _sound mind_.\n\nFor as there is no true foundation for comfort in life, but in the\nassurance that a wise and good God governeth the world: so the more we\nfind out God in every thing, the more we apply to him in every place,\nthe more we look up to him in all our actions, the more we conform\nto his will, the more we act according to his wisdom, and imitate his\ngoodness, by so much the more do we enjoy God, and increase all that\nis _happy_ and _comfortable_ in human life.\n\nAnd it is plain, he that is endeavouring to subdue all those passions\nof _pride_, _envy_, and _ambition_, which religion opposes, is\ndoing more to make himself happy, even in this life, than he that\nis contriving means to indulge them.\n\n*For these passions are the causes of all the disquiets of human life:\nthey are the _dropsies_ and _fevers_ of our minds, vexing them with\nfalse appetites, and restless cravings after such things as we do not\nwant, and spoiling our taste for those things which are our proper\ngood.\n\n\n2. *Do but imagine that you some where or other saw a man, that\nproposed _reason_ as the rule of all his actions; that had no desires\nbut after such things as _nature_ wants, and _religion_ approves;\nthat was as pure from all the motions of _pride_, _envy_, and\n_covetousness_, as from thoughts of _murder_; that in this freedom\nfrom worldly passions, he had a soul full of divine love, wishing and\npraying that all men may have what they want of worldly things, and be\npartakers of eternal glory.\n\nDo but fancy a man living in this manner, and your own conscience will\nimmediately tell you, that he is the happiest man in the world, and\nthat it is not in the power of the richest fancy to invent any higher\nhappiness in the present life.\n\nAnd, on the other hand, if you suppose him to be in any degree _less\nperfect_; if you suppose him but subject to one foolish fondness,\nor vain passion, your own conscience will tell you, that he so far\nlessens his own happiness, and robs himself of the true enjoyment of\nhis other virtues. So true is it, that the _more_ we live by the rules\nof religion, the more peaceful and happy we are.\n\n\n3. Again, as it thus appears that real happiness is only to be had\nfrom religion; so the same truth will appear from a consideration of\n_human misery_. If we look into the world, and view the troubles of\nhuman life, we shall find that they are all owing to our irreligious\npassions.\n\nNow all trouble and uneasiness is founded in the _want_ of something\nor other; would we therefore know the true cause of our troubles and\ndisquiets, we must find out the cause of our wants; because that which\ncreates and increases our wants, does in the same degree create and\nincrease our troubles and disquiets.\n\nGod Almighty has sent us into the world with very few wants: _meat_,\nand _drink_, and _cloathing_, are the only things necessary in life;\nand as these are only our present needs, so the present world is well\nfurnished to supply these needs.\n\nIf a man had half the world in his power, he can make no more of it\nthan this; as he wants it only to support an _animal_ life, so is\nit unable to do any thing else for him, or to afford him any other\nhappiness.\n\n\n4. This is the state of man, born with few wants, and into a large\nworld, very capable of supplying them. So that one would reasonably\nsuppose, men should pass their lives in content and thankfulness to\nGod; at least, that they should be free from violent disquiets and\nvexations, as being placed in a world that has more than enough to\nrelieve all their wants.\n\nBut if to all this we add, that this short life, thus furnished with\nall that we want in it, is only a short passage to eternal glory,\nwhere we shall be cloathed with the brightness of _angels_, and enter\ninto the joys of God, we might still more reasonably expect, that\nhuman life should be a state of peace, and joy, and delight in God.\nThus it would certainly be, if reason had its full power over us.\n\n*But alas, though God, and nature, and reason, make human life thus\nfree from wants; yet our passions, in rebellion against God, against\n_nature_ and _reason_, create a new world of evils, and fill human\nlife with imaginary wants, and vain disquiets.\n\n*The man of _pride_ has a thousand wants, which only his own pride\nhas _created_; and these render him as full of trouble, as if God had\ncreated him with a _thousand appetites_, without creating any thing\nthat was proper to satisfy them. _Envy_ and _ambition_ have also\ntheir endless wants, which disquiet the souls of men, and by their\ncontradictory motions render them as foolishly miserable as those that\nwant to _fly_ and _creep_ at the same time.\n\nLet but any complaining, disquieted man, tell you the ground of his\nuneasiness, and you will plainly see that he is the author of his own\ntorment; that he is vexing himself at some imaginary evil, which will\ncease to torment him as soon as he is content to be that which God,\nand nature, and reason, require him to be.\n\n\n5. *If you should see a man passing his days in disquiet, because he\ncould not _walk_ upon the _water_, or _catch birds_ as they fly by\nhim, you would readily confess that such an one might thank himself\nfor such uneasiness. But now, if you look into the most tormenting\ndisquiets of life, you will find them all thus absurd. People are only\ntormented by their own folly, and vexing themselves at such things\nas no more concern them, nor are any more their proper good, than\n_walking_ upon the _water_, or _catching birds_.\n\n*What can you conceive more silly and extravagant, than a man racking\nhis brains, and studying night and day how to fly? Wandering from his\nown house and home, wearying himself with _climbing_ upon every ascent,\n_cringing_ and _courting_ every body he meets, to lift him up from the\nground, bruising himself with continual falls, and at last breaking\nhis neck? And all this, from an imagination that it would be glorious\nto have the eyes of people gazing up at him, and mighty happy to\n_eat_, and _drink_, and _sleep_, at the top of the highest trees\nin the kingdom. Would you not readily own that such a one was only\ndisquieted at his _own folly_?\n\nIf you ask, what it signifies to suppose such silly creatures as are\nno where to be found in human life?\n\nIt may be answered, that wherever you see an _ambitious_ man, there\nyou see this _vain and senseless flyer_.\n\n\n6. *Again, if you should see a man that had a large _pond_ of _water_,\nyet living in _continual thirst_, not suffering himself to drink _half\na draught_, for fear of lessening his pond; if you should see him\nwasting his time and strength, in _fetching more_ water to his pond,\nalways _thirsty_, yet always carrying a _bucket_ of water in his hand,\nwatching early and late to catch the _drops_ of rain, gaping after\nevery cloud, and running greedily into every _mire_ and mud, in hopes\nof water, and always studying how to make every _ditch_ empty itself\ninto his _pond_. If you should see him grow _grey_ and _old_ in these\nanxious labours, and at last end a _careful_, _thirsty_ life, by\nfalling into his own _pond_: would you not say, that such a one was\nnot only the author of his own disquiets, but was foolish enough to be\nreckoned amongst _ideots_ and _madmen_? But yet foolish and absurd as\nthis character is, it does not represent half the follies and absurd\ndisquiets of the _covetous man_.\n\nI could now easily proceed to shew the same effects of all our other\npassions, and make it plainly appear, that all our miseries, vexations,\nand complaints, are entirely of our own making, and that in the same\nabsurd manner, as in these instances of the _covetous_ and _ambitious_\nman. *Look where you will, you will see all _worldly vexations_, but\nlike the vexation of him that was always in _mire_ and _mud_ in search\nof water to drink, when he had more at home than was sufficient for an\n_hundred horses_.\n\n\n7. *_C\u00e6lia_ is always telling you how _provoked_ she is, what\n_intolerable shocking_ things happen to her, what _monstrous_ usage\nshe suffers, and what _vexations_ she meets with every where. She\ntells you that her patience is quite worn out, and there is no bearing\nthe behaviour of people. Every _assembly_ that she is at, sends her\nhome provoked; something or other has been said or done, that no\nreasonable, well bred person ought to bear. _Poor people_ that want\nher charity, are sent away with hasty answers; not because she has not\na heart to part with any money, but because she is _too full_ of some\ntrouble of her own, to attend to the complaints of others. _C\u00e6lia_ has\nno business upon her hands, but to receive the income of a plentiful\nfortune: but yet by the doleful turn of her mind, you would be apt to\nthink that she had neither _food_ nor _lodging_. If you see her look\nmore pale than ordinary, if her lips tremble when she speaks to you,\nit is because she is just come from a _visit_, where _Lupus_ took no\nnotice at all of her, but talked all the time to _Lucinda_, who has\nnot half her fortune. When cross accidents have so disordered her\nspirits, that she is forced to send for the _doctor_ to make her able\nto eat; she tells him, in great anger at providence, that she never\nwas well since she was born, and that she envies every beggar that she\nsees in health.\n\nThis is the unquiet life of _C\u00e6lia_, who has nothing to torment her\nbut her own _spirit_.\n\nIf you could inspire her with _Christian humility_, you need do no\nmore to make her happy. This virtue would make her thankful to God for\nhalf so much health as she has had, and help her to enjoy more for the\ntime to come. This would keep off _tremblings_ and _loss_ of appetite,\nand her blood would need nothing else to sweeten it.\n\n\n8. I have just touched upon these absurd characters, to convince you\nin the plainest manner, that religion is so far from rendering a life\n_dull_, _anxious_, and _uncomfortable_, that on the contrary, all\nthe miseries, vexations, and complaints that are in the world, are\nowing to the want of religion; being directly caused by those absurd\npassions, which religion teaches us to deny.\n\n\n9. Most people indeed confess, that religion preserves us from\nmany evils, and helps us in many respects to a more happy enjoyment\nof ourselves; but then, they imagine, this is only true of such a\n_moderate share_ of religion, as restrains us from the excesses of\nour passions. They suppose that the _strict rules_ of piety must make\nour lives _dull_ and _uncomfortable_.\n\nThis objection supposes, that religion, _moderately_ practised, adds\nto our happiness; but that heights of religion have a contrary effect.\n\n*It supposes therefore, that it is happy to be kept from the\n_excesses_ of envy, but unhappy to be kept from _other_ degrees of\n_envy_; that it is happy to be delivered from a _boundless_ ambition,\nbut unhappy to be without a _moderate_ ambition. It supposes also,\nthat the happiness of life consists in a _mixture_ of virtue and vice,\nof ambition and humility, charity and envy, heavenly affection and\ncovetousness. All which is as absurd, as to suppose that it is happy\nto be free from excessive pains, but unhappy to be without moderate\npains; or that the happiness of _health_ consisted in being partly\nsick, and partly well.\n\nBut if humility be the peace and rest of the soul, then no one has\nso much happiness from humility, as he that is the most humble.\nIf excessive envy is a torment of the soul, he is most happy who\nextinguishes every spark of envy.\n\nThus it is in every virtue: the more you act up to every degree of it,\nthe more happiness you have from it. And so of every vice: if you only\nabate its excesses, you do but little for yourself; but if you reject\nit in all degrees, then you feel the true ease of a _reformed_ mind.\n\n\n10. And, as to those enjoyments which piety requireth us to deny\nourselves, this deprives us of no real comfort.\n\nFor, 1_st_, Piety requires us to renounce no ways of life, where we\ncan act _reasonably_, and offer what we do to God. All ways of life,\nall enjoyments that are within these bounds, are no way denied us by\nthe strictest rules of piety. Whatever you can do, or enjoy, as in the\npresence of God, as his servant, as his rational creature; all that\nyou can perform conformably to a rational nature, is allowed by the\nlaws of piety. And will you think that your life will be uncomfortable,\nunless you may displease God, and act contrary to that reason and\nwisdom which he has implanted in you?\n\nAs for those satisfactions, which we dare not offer to a holy God,\nwhich are only invented by the folly and corruption of the world,\nwhich inflame our passions, and sink our souls into grossness and\nsensuality, and render us incapable of the divine favour either here\nor hereafter, surely it can be no uncomfortable thing to be rescued by\nreligion from such self-murder, and to be rendered capable of eternal\nhappiness.\n\n\n11. *Let us suppose a _person_ placed somewhere alone, in the midst of\na variety of things which he did not know how to use; that he has by\nhim _bread_, _wine_, _water_, _golden dust_, _iron chains_, _gravel_,\n_garments_, _fire_. Let it be supposed, that he has no knowledge,\nnor any directions from his _senses_, how to quench his _thirst_, or\nsatisfy his _hunger_, or make _any use_ of the things about him. Let\nit be supposed, that in his drought he puts _golden dust_ into his\neyes; when his _eyes_ smart, he puts _wine_ into his _ears_: that\nin his hunger, he puts _gravel_ in his mouth; that in pain, he loads\nhimself with _iron chains_; that feeling cold, he puts his feet in\nthe water; that being frighted at the fire, he runs away from it; that\nbeing weary, he makes a _seat_ of his _bread_. Let it be supposed,\nthat thro\u2019 his ignorance of the right use of the things that are\nabout him, he will vainly torment himself whilst he lives; and at last\ndie, _blinded_ with _dust_, _choaked_ with _gravel_, and loaded with\n_irons_. Let it be supposed, that some good being came to him, and\nshewed him the nature and use of all the things that were about him,\nand gave him such _strict rules_ of using them, as would certainly,\nif observed, make him the happier for all that he had, and deliver him\nfrom the pains of hunger, and thirst, and cold.\n\nNow, could you with any reason affirm, that those strict rules of\nusing those things that were about him, had rendered that poor man\u2019s\nlife _dull_ and _uncomfortable_?\n\n\n12. This is, in some measure, a representation of the _strict_ rules\nof religion; they only relieve our ignorance, save us from tormenting\nourselves, and teach us to use _every thing_ about us to our advantage.\n\nMan is placed in a world full of variety of things; his ignorance\nmakes him use many of them as absurdly, as the man that put _dust_ in\nhis _eyes_ to relieve his _thirst_, or put on chains to remove pain.\n\nReligion therefore here comes in to his relief, and gives him _strict\nrules_ of using every thing that is about him; that by so using them\nsuitably to his own nature and the nature of the things, he may have\nalways the pleasure of receiving benefit from them. It shews him\nwhat is strictly right in meat, and drink, and cloaths; and that\nhe has nothing else to expect from the things of this world, but to\nsatisfy such wants of his own; and then to extend his assistance to\nall his brethren, that, as far as he is able, he may help all his\nfellow-creatures to the same benefit from the world that he hath.\n\n\n13. *It tells him, that this world is incapable of giving him any\nother happiness; and that all endeavours to be happy in _heaps_ of\n_money_, or _acres_ of _land_, in fine _cloaths_, rich _beds_, stately\n_equipage_, and _shew_ and _splendour_, are only vain endeavours,\nignorant attempts after impossibilities; these things be no more able\nto give the least degree of happiness, than _dust_ in the eyes can\ncure thirst, or _gravel_ in the mouth satisfy hunger; but, like dust\nand gravel misapplied, will only serve to render him more unhappy by\nsuch an ignorant misuse of them.\n\nIt tells him, altho\u2019 this world can do no more for him, than satisfy\nthese wants of the body; yet there is a much greater good prepared for\nman, than eating, drinking, and dressing; that it is yet invisible to\nhis eyes, being too glorious for the apprehension of flesh and blood;\nbut reserved for him to enter upon, as soon as this short life is over;\nwhere, in a new body, formed to an angelic likeness, he shall dwell in\nthe light and glory of God to all eternity.\n\n*It tells him, that this state of glory will be given to all those\nthat make a _right use_ of the things of this present world; who do\nnot blind themselves with _golden dust_, or eat _gravel_, or groan\nunder loads of _iron_ of their own putting on; but use _bread_,\n_water_, _wine_, and _garments_ for such ends as are according to\n_nature_ and _reason_; and who with faith and thankfulness worship\nthe kind giver of all that they enjoy here, and hope for hereafter.\n\n\n14. Now can any one say, that the strictest rules of such a religion\nas this, debar us of any of the comforts of life? Might it not\nas justly be said of those rules, that only \u2666hindered a man from\n_choaking_ himself with _gravel_? For the strictness of these rules\nonly consists in the exactness of their rectitude.\n\n \u2666 \u2018hindred\u2019 replaced with \u2018hindered\u2019\n\n*Who would complain of the severe strictness of a law, that without\nany exception forbad the putting of dust into our eyes? Who could\nthink it too rigid, that there were no abatements? Now this is the\n_strictness_ of religion; it requires nothing of us strictly, or\nwithout abatements, but where every degree of the thing is wrong,\nwhere every indulgence does us hurt.\n\n*If religion forbids all instances of _revenge_ without exception,\n\u2019tis because all revenge is of the nature of _poison_; and though we\ndon\u2019t take so much as to put an end to life, yet if we take any at all,\nit corrupts the mass of blood, and makes it difficult to be restored\nto our former health.\n\nIf religion commands an _universal charity_, to love our neighbour\nas ourselves, to forgive and pray for all our enemies without any\n_reserve_, \u2019tis because all degrees of love are degrees of happiness,\nthat strengthen and support the divine life of the soul, and are as\nnecessary to its health and happiness, as proper food is necessary to\nthe health and happiness of the body.\n\n*If religion has laws against _laying up treasures upon earth_, and\ncommands us to be content with food and raiment; \u2019tis because every\nother use of the world is abusing it to our own vexation, and turning\nits conveniences into snares and traps to destroy us. \u2019Tis because\nthis _plainness_ and _simplicity_ of life, secure us from the cares\nand pains of restless pride and envy, and make it easier to keep that\nstrait road that will carry us to eternal life.\n\n\n15. If religion requires us sometimes to _fast_ and _deny_ our natural\nappetites, \u2019tis to lessen that struggle and war that is in our nature;\n\u2019tis to render our bodies fitter instruments of purity, and more\nobedient to the good motions of divine grace; \u2019tis to dry up the\nsprings of our passions that war against the soul, to cool the flame\nof our blood, and render the mind more capable of divine meditations.\nSo that altho\u2019 these abstinences give some pain to the body, yet they\nso lessen the power of bodily appetites and passions, and so increase\nour taste of spiritual joys, that even these severities of religion,\nwhen practised with discretion, add much to the comfort of our lives.\n\nIf religion calleth us to a life of watching and prayer, \u2019tis because\nwe live amongst a crowd of enemies, and are always in need of the\nassistance of God. If we are to confess and bewail our sins, \u2019tis\nbecause such confessions relieve the mind, and restore it to ease; as\n_burdens_ and _weights_ taken off the shoulders, relieve the body, and\nmake it easier to itself. If we are to be frequent and fervent in holy\npetitions, \u2019tis to keep us steady in the sight of our true good, and\nthat we may never want the happiness of a lively faith, a joyful hope,\nand well-grounded trust in God. If we are to pray often, \u2019tis that\nwe may be often happy in such secret joys as only prayer can give;\nin such communications of the divine presence, as will fill our minds\nwith all the happiness that beings not in heaven, are capable of.\n\nIf religion commands us to live _wholly_ unto God, and to _do all_\nto his glory, \u2019tis because every other way is living _wholly_ against\nourselves, and will end in our shame and confusion of face.\n\n\n16. *As every thing is _dark_, that God does not enlighten; as every\nthing is _senseless_, that has not its share of knowledge from him;\nas nothing _lives_ but by partaking of life from him; as nothing\n_exists_, but because he commands it to be; so there is no _glory_\nor _greatness_, but what is the glory or greatness of God.\n\nWe indeed may talk of _human glory_, as we may talk of _human life_ or\n_human knowledge_; but as we are sure that human life implies nothing\nof our _own_, but a dependent living in God, or enjoying so much life\nin God; so human glory, whenever we find it, must be only so much\nglory as we enjoy in the glory of God.\n\n*This is the state of all creatures, whether men or angels; as\nthey make not themselves, so if they are great, they are only great\nreceivers of the gifts of God; their _power_ can only be so much of\nthe divine power acting in them; their _wisdom_ can be only so much of\nthe divine wisdom shining within them; and their _light_ and _glory_,\nonly so much of the life and glory of God shining upon them.\n\n\n17. *As they are not _men_ or _angels_, because they had a mind to be\nso, but because the will of God formed them to be what they are; so\nthey cannot enjoy this or that happiness of men or angels, because\nthey have a mind to it, but because it is the will of God, that such\nthings be the happiness of men, and such things the happiness of\nangels. But now, if God be thus all in all; if his will is thus the\nmeasure of all things and all natures; if nothing can be done, but by\nhis power; if nothing can be seen, but by a light from him; if we have\nnothing to fear, but from his justice; if we have nothing to hope for,\nbut from his goodness; if this is the nature of man, thus helpless\nin himself; if this is the state of all creatures, as well those in\n_heaven_, as those on _earth_; if they are nothing, can do nothing,\ncan suffer no pain, nor feel any happiness, but so far, and in such\ndegrees, as the power of God does all this: if this be the state of\nthings, then how can we have the least glimpse of joy or comfort? How\ncan we have any peaceful enjoyment of ourselves, but by living wholly\nunto God, using and doing every thing conformably to his will? A life\nthus devoted unto God, looking wholly unto him in all our actions, and\ndoing all things suitable to his glory, is so far from being dull, and\nuncomfortable, that it creates new comforts in every thing that we do.\n\n\n18. On the contrary, would you see how _happy_ they are who live\naccording to their own wills, who cannot submit to the _dull_ and\n_melancholy_ business of a life devoted to God? Look at the man in\nthe _parable_, to whom his Lord had given one talent.\n\nHe could not bear the thoughts of using his talent according to\nthe will of him from whom he had it, and therefore he chose to make\nhimself happier in another way of his own. _Lord_, says he, _I knew\nthee, that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hadst not sown,\nand gathering where thou hadst not strawed. And I was afraid, and went\nand hid thy talent in the earth. Lo there thou hast that is thine._\nMatt. xxv. 24.\n\nHere you see how happy this man made himself by not acting _wholly_\naccording to his Lord\u2019s will. It was, according to his own account,\nan happiness of _murmuring_ and _discontent_; _I knew thee_, says\nhe, _that thou wast an hard man_: it was an happiness of _fears_ and\n_apprehensions_; _I was_, says he, _afraid_: it was an happiness of\n_vain labours_ and _fruitless travels_: _I went_, says he, _and hid\nthy talent_; and after having been awhile the sport of foolish passion,\ntormenting fears, and fruitless labours, he is rewarded with darkness,\neternal weeping and gnashing of teeth.\n\n\n19. Now this is the happiness of all those, who look upon _strict_\npiety, that is, a right use of their talent, to be a dull and\nmelancholy thing.\n\nThey may live awhile free from the restraints and directions\nof religion; but instead thereof, they must be under the absurd\ngovernment of their passions: they must, like the man in the _parable_,\nlive in _murmurings_ and _discontents_, in _fears_ and _apprehensions_.\nThey may avoid the labour of doing good, of spending their time\ndevoutly, of laying up treasures in heaven, of cloathing the naked, of\nvisiting the sick; but then they must, like this man, have _labours_\nand _pains_ in vain, that tend to no use or advantage, that do no good\neither to themselves, or others; they must _travel_, and _labour_, and\n_work_, and _dig_, to hide their talent in the earth. They must, like\nhim, at their Lord\u2019s coming, be convicted out of their own mouths,\nbe accused by their own hearts, and have every thing that they have\nsaid and thought of religion, be made to shew the justice of their\ncondemnation to eternal darkness, weeping and gnashing of teeth.\n\nThis is the purchase that they make, who avoid the strictness of\nreligion, in order to live happily.\n\n\n20. On the other hand, would you see a short description of the\nhappiness of a life rightly employed, wholly devoted to God, you must\nlook at the man in the _parable_, to whom his Lord had given five\ntalents. _Lord_, says he, _thou deliveredst unto five talents: behold,\nI have gained besides them five talents more. His Lord said unto him,\nwell done thou good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over\na few things, I will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into\nthe joy of thy Lord._\n\nHere you see a life that is wholly intent upon the improvement of the\ntalents, that is devoted wholly unto God, is a state of happiness,\nprosperous labours, and glorious success. Here are not, as in the\nformer case, any _uneasy passions_, _murmurings_, _vain fears_ and\n_fruitless labours_. The man is not toiling, and digging in the\nearth for no end or advantage; but his labours prosper in his hands,\nhis happiness increases upon him, the blessing of five becomes the\nblessing of ten talents; and he is received with a _Well done good\nand faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord_.\n\n\n21. Now, as the case of these men in the _parable_ left nothing else\nto their choice, but either to be happy in using their gifts to the\n_glory_ of their Lord, or miserable by using them according to their\n_own humours_ and _fancies_; so the state of Christianity leaves us no\nother choice.\n\n*All that we have, all that we are, all that we enjoy, are only so\nmany talents from God: if we use them to the end of a pious and holy\nlife, our five talents will become ten, and our labours will carry us\ninto the joy of our Lord; but if we abuse them to the gratification\nof our own passions, sacrificing the gifts of God to our own pride\nand vanity, we shall live here in vain labours and foolish anxieties,\nshunning religion as a melancholy thing, accusing our Lord as a hard\nmaster, and then fall into everlasting misery.\n\nWe may for awhile amuse ourselves with _names_, and _sounds_, and\n_shadows_ of happiness, we may talk of this or that greatness and\ndignity; but if we desire real happiness, we have no other possible\nway to it, but by improving our talents, by so holily and piously\nusing the _powers_ and _faculties_ of _men_ in this present state,\nthat we may be happy and glorious in the _powers_ and _faculties_ of\n_angels_ in the world to come.\n\nHow ignorant therefore are they of the nature of religion, of the\nnature of man, and the nature of God, who think a life of _strict\npiety_ to be a _dull_ and _uncomfortable_ state, when it is so plain\nand certain, that there is neither comfort nor joy to be found in any\nthing else?\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n _The happiness of a life wholly devoted unto God, farther\n proved, from the |vanity|, and the |ridiculous|, |poor|\n enjoyments which they are forced to take up with, who live\n according to their own humours. This represented in various\n characters._\n\n\n1. WE may see yet more of the happiness of a life devoted to God, by\nconsidering the poor contrivances for happiness, and the contemptible\nways of life, which they are thrown into, who are seeking after\nhappiness by other methods.\n\nIf one looks at their lives, who live by no rule but their own humours\nand fancies; if one sees what it is, which they call _joy_, and\n_greatness_, and _happiness_; if one sees how they rejoice and repent,\nchange and fly from one delusion to another, one shall find great\nreason to rejoice, that God hath appointed a _narrow_ way that leadeth\nunto life, and that we are not left to the folly of our own minds, or\nforced to take up with such shadows of happiness, as the folly of the\nworld has invented. I say _invented_, because those things which make\nup the _joy and happiness_ of the world, are mere _inventions_, which\nhave no foundation in nature, are no way the proper good or happiness\nof man, no way perfect either his body or his mind.\n\n\n2. *As, for instance, when a man proposes to be happy in ways of\n_ambition_, by raising himself to some _imaginary heights_ above other\npeople. This is an _invention_ of happiness which has no foundation\nin nature, but it is as mere a cheat of our own making, as if a man\nshould intend to make himself happy by _climbing_ up a _ladder_.\n\n*If a _woman_ seeks for happiness from _fine colours_ or _spots_ upon\n_her face_, from _jewels_ and _rich cloaths_, this is as merely an\n_invention_ of happiness, as contrary to _nature_ and _reason_, as if\nshe should propose to make herself happy, by painting a _post_, and\nputting the same finery upon it. It is in this respect that I call\nthese mere _inventions_ of happiness, because neither God, nor nature,\nnor reason, hath appointed them as such; but whatever appears joyful\nor happy in them, is entirely invented by the blindness and vanity of\nour own minds.\n\nAnd it is on these inventions of happiness, that I desire you to cast\nyour eye, that you may thence learn how _great a good_ religion is,\nwhich delivers you from such a multitude of follies, and vain pursuits,\nas are the torment of minds that wander from their true happiness in\nGod.\n\n\n3. *Look at _Flatus_, and learn how miserable they are, who are left\nto the folly of their own passions.\n\n_Flatus_ is rich and in health, yet always uneasy, and always\nsearching after happiness. Every time you visit him, you find some\nnew project in his head; he is eager upon it as something that is\nmore worth his while, and will do more for him, than any thing that is\nalready past. Every new thing so seizes him, that if you was to take\nhim from it, he would think himself quite undone. His sanguine temper,\nand strong passions, promise him so much happiness in every thing,\nthat he is always cheated, and is satisfied with nothing.\n\nAt his first setting out in life, _fine cloaths_ was his delight. His\nenquiry was only after the best _taylors_ and _peruke-makers_; and he\nhad no thoughts of excelling in any thing but _dress_. He spared no\nexpence, but carried every nicety to its greatest height. But this\nhappiness not answering his expectations, he left off his _brocades_,\nput on a plain coat, railed at _fops_ and _beaux_, and gave himself up\nto _gaming_ with great eagerness.\n\nThis new pleasure satisfied him for some time; he envied no other way\nof life. But being by the fate of _play_, drawn into a _duel_, where\nhe narrowly escaped his death, he left off the _dice_, and sought for\nhappiness no longer amongst the _gamesters_.\n\n\n4. The next thing that seized his wandering imagination, was the\ndiversions of the _town_; and for more than a twelvemonth, you heard\nhim talk of nothing but _ladies_, _drawing-rooms_, _birth-nights_,\n_plays_, _balls_, and _assemblies_; but growing sick of these, he\nhad recourse to hard _drinking_. He had now many a merry night, and\nmet with stronger joys than any he had felt before. And here he had\nthoughts of setting up his staff, and looking out no farther; but\nunluckily falling into a _fever_, he grew angry at all strong liquors,\nand took his leave of the happiness of being drunk.\n\nThe next attempt after happiness carried him into the _field_. For\ntwo or three years nothing was so happy as _hunting_. He entered upon\nit with all his soul, and leaped over more _hedges_ and _ditches_\nthan had ever been known in so short a time. You never saw him but\nin a _green coat_. He was the envy of all that blow the _horn_,\nand always spoke to his dogs in great propriety of language. If you\nmeet him at home in a bad day, you would hear him blow his horn,\nand be entertained with the surprizing accidents of the last _noble\nchace_. No sooner had _Flatus_ outdone all the world in the breed\nand education of his _dogs_, built new _kennels_, new _stables_, and\nbought a new _hunting-seat_, but he got sight of another happiness,\nhated the senseless noise and hurry of hunting, gave away his dogs,\nand was for some time after deep in the _pleasures_ of _building_.\n\n\n5. Now he invents new kinds of _dovecoats_, and has such contrivances\nin his _barns_ and _stables_, as were never seen before. He wonders at\nthe dulness of the old builders, is wholly bent upon the improvement\nof _architecture_, and will hardly hang a door in the ordinary way.\nHe tells his friends, that he never was so delighted in any thing in\nhis life; that he has more happiness amongst his _brick_ and _mortar_,\nthan ever he had at _court_: and that he is contriving how to have\nsome little matter to do that way as long as he lives.\n\nAfter this, he was a great _student_ for one whole year. He was\nup early and late at his _Italian grammar_, that he might have\nthe happiness of understanding the _opera_, and not be like those\n_unreasonable_ people, that are pleased with they don\u2019t know what.\n\n_Flatus_ is very ill-natured, or otherwise, just as his affairs happen\nto be when you visit him. If you find him when some project is almost\nwore out, you will find a peevish, ill-bred man; but if you had seen\nhim just as he entered upon his _riding regimen_, or begun to excel in\nsounding the horn, you had been saluted with great civility.\n\n_Flatus_ is now at a full stand, and is doing what he never did in his\nlife before. He is _reasoning_ and _reflecting_ with himself. He loses\nseveral days, in considering which of his _cast-off_ ways of life he\nshould try again.\n\nBut here a new project comes in to his relief. He is now living upon\n_herbs_, and running about the country, to get himself in as _good\nwind_ as any _running footman_ in the kingdom.\n\n\n6. I have been thus circumstantial in so many foolish particulars,\nbecause I hope that every particular folly that you here see, will\nnaturally turn itself into an argument for the wisdom and happiness\nof a religious life.\n\nIf I could lay before you a particular account of all the\ncircumstances of terror and distress, that daily attend a life at\n_sea_, the more particular I was in the account, the more I should\nmake you feel and rejoice in the happiness of living upon the _land_.\n\nIn like manner, the more I enumerate the _follies_, _anxieties_,\n_delusions_, and restless desires which go thro\u2019 every part of a life\ndevoted to worldly enjoyments, the more you must be affected with that\npeace, and rest, and solid content, which religion gives to the souls\nof men.\n\n\n7. But you will perhaps say, that the ridiculous, restless life of\n_Flatus_, is not the common state of those who neglect the strict\nrules of religion; and that therefore it is not so great an argument\nof the happiness of a religious life.\n\nI answer, that I am afraid it is one of the most _general characters_\nin life; and that few people can read it, without seeing something in\nit that belongs to themselves. For where shall we find that wise and\nhappy man, who has not been eagerly pursuing different appearances of\nhappiness, sometimes thinking it was here, and sometimes there?\n\nAnd if people were to divide their lives into particular stages,\nand ask themselves what they were pursuing, or what it was which\nthey had chiefly in view, when they were _twenty_ years old, what at\n_twenty-five_, what at _thirty_, what at _forty_, what at _fifty_,\nand so on, till they were brought to their last bed, numbers of people\nwould find, that they had pursued as many different appearances of\nhappiness, as are to be seen in the life of _Flatus_.\n\nAnd thus it must be, more or less, with all who propose any other\nhappiness, than that which arises from a strict and regular piety.\n\n\n8. But, _secondly_, let it be granted, that the _generality_ of people\nare not of such restless, fickle tempers as _Flatus_, the difference\nis only this, _Flatus_ is continually changing and trying something\nnew, but others are content with some one state; they don\u2019t leave\n_gaming_, and then fall to _hunting_, but follow one or the other all\ntheir life. Some have so much _steadiness_ in their tempers, that they\nseek after no other happiness, but that of _heaping_ up riches; others\ngrow old in the sports of the _field_; others are content to _drink_\nthemselves to death, without the least enquiry after any other\nhappiness.\n\nNow, is there any thing more _happy_ or _reasonable_, in such a\nlife as this, than in the life of _Flatus_? Is it not as wise and\nhappy, to be constantly changing from one thing to another, as to be\nnothing else but a _gatherer_ of money, a _hunter_, a _gamester_, or\na _drunkard_, all your life?\n\nShall religion be looked upon as a burden, as a dull and melancholy\nstate, for calling men from such _happiness_ as this, to labour after\nthe perfection of their nature, and prepare themselves for an endless\nstate of joy and glory in the presence of God?\n\n\n9. *But turn your eyes now another way, and let the _trifling joys_,\nthe _gewgaw_ happiness of _Feliciana_, teach you how wise they are,\nwhat delusion they escape, whose hearts and hopes are fixed upon\nhappiness in God.\n\nIf you was to live with _Feliciana_ but one half year, you would see\nall the happiness that she is to have as long as she lives. She has no\nmore to come, but the poor repetition of that which could never have\npleased once, but thro\u2019 a littleness of mind, and want of thought.\n\nShe is to be again dressed fine, and keep her visiting-day. She is\nagain to change the colour of her _cloaths_, again to have a new\n_head_. She is again to see who acts best at the _playhouse_, and\nwho sings finest at the _opera_. She is again to make ten visits in\na day, and be ten times in a day trying to talk artfully, easily, and\npolitely, about nothing.\n\nShe is to be again delighted with some new fashion, and again angry\nat the change of some old one. She is to be again at cards, and gaming\nat midnight, and again in bed at noon. She is to be again pleased with\nhypocritical compliments, and again disturbed with imaginary affronts.\nShe is to be again delighted with her good luck at _gaming_, and again\ntormented with the loss of her money. She is again to prepare herself\nfor a birth-night, and again to see the town full of good company. She\nis again to hear the cabals and intrigues of the town, again to have\nsecret intelligence of private amours, and early notice of marriages,\nquarrels and partings.\n\nIf you see her come out of her chariot more briskly than usual,\nconverse with more spirit, and seem fuller of joy than she was\nlast week, it is because there is some surprising new dress, or new\ndiversion just come to town.\n\n\n10. These are all the _substantial_ and _regular_ parts of\n_Feliciana_\u2019s happiness; and she never knew a pleasant day in her\nlife, but it was owing to some one, or more, of these things.\n\nIt is for this happiness, that she has always been deaf to the\nreasonings of religion, that her heart has been too gay and chearful\nto consider what is _right_ or _wrong_ in regard to eternity; or to\nlisten to the sound of such dull words, as _wisdom_, _piety_, and\n_devotion_.\n\nIt is for fear of losing some of this happiness, that she dares not\nmeditate on the immortality of her soul, consider her relation to God,\nor turn her thoughts towards those joys, which make saints and angels\ninfinitely happy in the presence and glory of God.\n\nBut let it be observed, that as poor a round of happiness as this\nappears, yet most women that avoid the restraints of religion for a\ngay life, must be content with very small parts of it. As they have\nnot _Feliciana_\u2019s fortune; so they must give away the comforts of a\npious life, for a very small part of her happiness.\n\n\n11. And if you look into the world, and observe the lives of those\nwomen, whom no arguments can persuade to live wholly unto God, you\nwill find most of them such, as lose all the comforts of religion\nwithout gaining the tenth part of _Feliciana_\u2019s happiness. They are\nsuch as spend their times and fortunes only in mimicking the pleasures\nof richer people; and rather look and long after, than enjoy those\ndelusions, which are not to be purchased but by considerable fortunes.\n\nBut if a woman of _high_ birth and _great_ fortune, having read the\ngospel, should rather wish to be an _under servant_ in some pious\nfamily, where wisdom, piety, and great devotion, directed all the\nactions of every day; if she should rather wish this, than to live at\nthe top of _Feliciana_\u2019s happiness, I should think her neither _mad_\nnor _melancholy_; but that she judged as rightly of the spirit of the\ngospel, as if she had rather wished to be _poor Lazarus_ at the gate,\nthan to be the rich man _cloathed in purple and fine linen, and faring\nsumptuously every day_.\n\n*But to proceed, would you know what an happiness it is, to be\ngoverned by the wisdom of religion, look at the poor condition of\n_Succus_, whose greatest happiness is a _good night_\u2019s rest in bed,\nand a _good meal_ when he is up. When he talks of happiness, it is\nalways in such expressions as shews you, that he has only his bed and\nhis dinner in his thoughts.\n\nThis regard to his _meals_ and _repose_, makes _Succus_ order all the\nrest of his time with relation to them. He will undertake no business\nthat may hurry his spirits, or break in upon his hours of _eating_ and\n_rest_. If he reads, it shall be only for half an hour, because that\nis sufficient to amuse the spirits; and he will read something that\nmay make him laugh, as rendering the body fitter for its _food_ and\n_rest_; or, if he has a mind at any time to indulge a grave thought,\nhe has recourse to a useful treatise upon the _\u2666ancient cookery_.\n_Succus_ is an enemy to all _party matters_, having made it an\nobservation, that there is as good eating amongst the _whigs_ as the\n_tories_.\n\n \u2666 \u2018antient\u2019 replaced with \u2018ancient\u2019\n\nHe talks coolly and moderately upon all subjects, and is as fearful\nof falling into a passion, as of catching cold; being very positive\nthey are both equally injurious to the _stomach_. If ever you see him\nmore hot than ordinary, it is upon some provoking occasion, when the\ndispute about cookery runs high, or in the defence of some beloved\ndish, which has often made him happy. But he has been so long upon\nthese subjects, is so well acquainted with all that can be said on\nboth sides, and has so often answered all objections, that he\ngenerally decides the matter with great gravity.\n\n_Succus_ is very loyal, and as soon as ever he likes any wine,\nhe drinks the king\u2019s health with all his heart. Nothing could put\nrebellious thoughts into his head, unless he should live to see a\nproclamation against eating of _pheasant_\u2019s _eggs_.\n\n\n\u266613. All the hours that are not devoted either to _repose_ or\n_nourishment_, are looked upon by _Succus_ as _waste_ or _spare time_.\nFor this reason he lodges near a _coffee-house_ and a _tavern_, that\nwhen he rises in the morning he may be near the _news_, and when he\nparts at night, he may not have far to go to bed. In the morning you\nalways see him in the same place in the _coffee-room_; and if he seems\nmore attentively engaged than ordinary, it is because some _criminal_\nis broke out of _newgate_, or some _lady_ was robbed last night, but\nthey can\u2019t tell where. When he has learnt all that he can, he goes\nhome to settle the matter with the barber\u2019s boy that comes to shave\nhim.\n\n \u2666 Number 12 omitted in text.\n\nThe next _waste time_ that lies upon his hands, is from dinner to\nsupper; and if melancholy thoughts ever come into his head, it is at\nthis time, when he is often left to himself for an hour or more, and\nthat after the greatest pleasure he knows is just over. He is afraid\nto sleep, because he has heard it is not healthful at that time; so\nthat he is forced to refuse so welcome a guest.\n\nBut here he is soon relieved by a settled method of playing at cards,\ntill it is time to think of some little, nice matter for supper.\n\nAfter this _Succus_ takes his glass, talks of the excellency of the\n_English constitution_, and praises that _minister_ the most, who\nkeeps the best table.\n\nOn a _Sunday_ night you may sometimes hear him condemning the iniquity\nof _town rakes_; and the bitterest thing that he says against them is\nthis, that he verily believes, some of them are so abandoned, as not\nto have a _regular meal_, or a _sound night_\u2019s sleep, in a week.\n\nAt eleven _Succus_ bids all good night, and parts in great friendship.\nHe is presently in bed, and sleeps till it is time to go to the\n_coffee-house_ next morning.\n\nIf you was to live with _Succus_ for a twelvemonth, this is all that\nyou would see in his life, except a few _curses_ and _oaths_ that he\nuses as occasion offers.\n\nAnd now I cannot help making this reflection:\n\n\n14. That as I believe the most likely means in the world to inspire a\nperson with true piety, was to have seen the example of some eminent\nprofessors of religion: so the next thing that is likely to fill us\nwith the same zeal, is to see the _folly_, the _baseness_, and poor\nsatisfactions of a life destitute of religion. As the one excites us\nto love and admire the wisdom and greatness of religion; so the other\nmay make us fearful of living without it.\n\nFor who can help blessing God for the _means of grace_, and for the\n_hope of glory_, when he sees what variety of folly they sink into,\nwho live without it? Who would not heartily engage in all the labours\nof a pious life, when he sees what _dull_ sensuality, what _gross_\nenjoyments they are left to, who seek for happiness in other ways?\n\nSo that whether we consider the greatness of religion, or the\nlittleness of all other things, and the meanness of all other\nenjoyments, there is nothing to be found in the whole nature of things\nfor a thoughtful mind to rest upon, but a happiness in religion.\n\n\n15. Consider now with yourself, how unreasonably, it is pretended\nthat a life of strict piety must be a _dull_ and _anxious_ state?\nFor, can it with any reason be said that the duties of religion render\nour lives heavy and melancholy, when they only deprive us of such\nhappiness as has been here laid before you?\n\nMust it be tedious to live in the continual exercise of charity and\ntemperance, to act wisely and virtuously, to do good to the utmost of\nyour power, to imitate the divine perfections, and prepare yourself\nfor the enjoyment of God? Must it be dull and tiresome to improve in\nholiness, to feel the comforts of conscience in all your actions, to\nknow that God is your friend, that all must work for your good; that\nneither life nor death, neither men nor devils can do you any harm;\nbut that all your sufferings and doings, are in a short time to be\nrewarded with everlasting glory: must such a state be _dull_ and\n_tiresome_, for want of such happiness as _Flatus_ or _Feliciana_\nenjoys?\n\nNow, if this cannot be said, then there is no happiness lost, by being\nstrictly pious; nor has the devout man any thing to envy in any other\nstate of life. For all the art and contrivances in the world, without\nreligion, cannot make more of human life, or carry its happiness to\nany greater height, than _Flatus_ or _Feliciana_ has done.\n\nThe finest _wit_, the greatest _genius_ upon earth, if not governed by\nreligion, must be as _foolish_, and _low_, and _vain_, in his method\nof happiness, as the _poor Succus_.\n\n\n16. *If you was to see a man dully endeavouring all his life to\nsatisfy his thirst, by holding up one and the same _empty cup_ to\nhis mouth, you would certainly despise his ignorance.\n\n*But, if you should see others, of _brighter parts_, and _finer\nunderstandings_, ridiculing the dull satisfaction of _one cup_, and\nthinking to satisfy their own thirst by variety of gilt and _golden\nempty cups_; would you think that these were ever the _wiser_, or\n_happier_, or _better_ employed, for their _finer parts_?\n\n*Now, this is all the difference that you can see in the happiness of\nthis life.\n\nThe _dull_ and _heavy_ soul may be content with one _empty appearance_\nof happiness, and be continually trying to hold the _same empty cup_\nto his mouth all his life. But let the _wit_, the _deep scholar_, the\n_fine genius_, the great _statesman_, the polite _gentleman_, lay all\ntheir heads together, and they can only shew you _more_ and _various_,\n_empty appearances_ of happiness; give them all the world into their\nhands, let them cut and carve as they please, they can only make a\ngreater variety of _empty cups_.\n\n*So that if you don\u2019t think it hard to be deprived of the pleasures of\n_gluttony_, for the sake of religion, you have no reason to think it\nhard to be restrained from any worldly pleasure. For search as deep,\nand look as far as you will, there is nothing here to be found, that\nis _nobler_, or _greater_, than _high eating_ and _drinking_, unless\nyou look for it in the wisdom of religion.\n\nAnd if all that is in the world, are only so many _empty cups_, what\ndoes it signify which you take, or how many?\n\n\n17. If you would but use yourself to such meditations as these, to\nreflect upon the vanity of _all orders_ of life without piety, to\nconsider how all the ways of the world, are only so many different\nways of error, blindness, and mistake; these meditations would awaken\nyour soul into a zealous desire of that solid happiness which is only\nto be found in recourse to God.\n\n\n18. To meditate upon the perfection of the divine attributes, to\ncontemplate the glories of heaven, to consider the joys of saints\nand angels living for ever in the brightness and glory of the divine\npresence; these are the meditations of souls advanced in piety, and\nnot suited to every capacity.\n\nBut to see and consider the _emptiness_ and error of all worldly\nhappiness, to see the _grossness_ of _sensuality_, the _poorness_ of\npride, the _stupidity_ of covetousness, the _vanity_ of dress, the\n_blindness_ of our passions, the _uncertainty_ of our lives, and the\n_shortness_ of all worldly projects; these are meditations that are\nsuited to all capacities. They require no depth of thought, or sublime\nspeculation; but are forced upon us by all our senses, and taught by\nalmost every thing that we see and hear.\n\nThis is that _Wisdom that crieth, and putteth forth her voice in\nthe streets_, Prov. viii. 1. that standeth at all our doors, that\nappealeth to all our senses, teaching us in every thing and every\nwhere, by all that we see, and all that we hear, by births \u2666and\nburials, by sickness and health, by life and death, by pains and\npoverty, by misery and vanity, and by all the changes of life; that\nthere is nothing else for man to look after, no other end in nature\nfor him to drive at, but a happiness in religion.\n\n \u2666 duplicate word removed \u2018and\u2019\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n _That not only a life of |vanity|, or |sensuality|, but even\n the |most regular| kind of life, that is not governed by\n great devotion, sufficiently shews its miseries, its wants\n and emptiness to the eyes of all the world. This\n represented in various characters._\n\n\n1. *_OCTAVIUS_ is a learned, ingenious man, well versed in most parts\nof literature, and no stranger to any kingdom in _Europe_. The other\nday, being just recovered from a lingering _fever_ he took upon him to\ntalk thus to his friends.\n\n\u201cMy _glass_, says he, is almost run out; and your eyes see how many\nmarks of _age_ and _death_ I bear about me: but I plainly feel myself\nsinking away faster than any standers-by imagine. I fully believe,\nthat one year more will conclude my reckoning.\u201d\n\nThe attention of his friends was much raised by such a declaration,\nexpecting to hear something truly excellent from so learned a man,\nwho had but a year longer to live; when _Octavius_ proceeded in this\nmanner, \u201cFor these reasons, says he, my friends, I have left off all\n_taverns_; the wine of those places is not good enough for me in this\ndecay of nature. I must now be _nice_ in what I drink. I can\u2019t pretend\nto do as I have done; and therefore I am resolved to furnish my own\n_cellar_ with a little of the very best, tho\u2019 it cost me ever so much.\u201d\n\n\n2. A few days after _Octavius_ had made this declaration to his\nfriends, he relapsed into his former illness, was committed to _a\nnurse_, who closed his eyes before his fresh parcel of wine came in.\n\nYoung _Eugenius_ who was present at this discourse went home a new man.\n\nI never, says _Eugenius_, was so deeply affected with the wisdom and\nimportance of religion, as when I saw how _poorly_ and _meanly_ the\nlearned _Octavius_ was to leave the world, thro\u2019 the want of it.\n\n\n3. *Was _all_ to die with our _bodies_, there might be some pretence\nfor those _different sorts_ of happiness, that are now so much talked\nof: but since _our all_ begins at the death of our bodies; since all\nmen are to be immortal, either in misery or happiness, in a world\nentirely different from this; since they are all hastening thence\nat all uncertainties, as fast as death can cut them down; some in\n_sickness_, some in _health_, some _sleeping_, some _waking_, some\nat _midnight_, others at _cock-crowing_, and at all hours they know\nnot of; is it not certain, that no man can exceed another in joy and\nhappiness, but so far as he exceeds him in those virtues which fit him\nfor a happy death?\n\n*_Cognatus_ is a sober, regular _clergyman_, of good repute in the\nworld, and well esteemed in his parish. All his parishioners say he is\nan _honest_ man, and very notable at making a _bargain_. The farmers\nlisten to him with great attention, when he talks of the properest\ntime of selling corn.\n\nHe has been for twenty years a diligent observer of _markets_, and has\nraised a considerable fortune by good management.\n\n_Cognatus_ is very _orthodox_, and full of _esteem_ for our _English_\nliturgy; and if he has not prayers on _Wednesdays_ and _Fridays_, \u2019tis\nbecause his _predecessor_ had not used the parish to any such custom.\nAs he cannot serve both his livings himself; so he makes it matter\nof _conscience_ to keep a _sober curate_ upon one of them, whom he\n_hires_ to take care of all the souls in the parish, at as _cheap_\na rate as a sober man can be procured.\n\n_Cognatus_ has been very prosperous all his time; but still he has\nhad the uneasiness and vexations that they have, who are deep in\nworldly business. _Taxes_, _losses_, _crosses_, _bad mortgages_, _bad\ntenants_, and the hardness of the times, are frequent subjects of his\nconversation, and a good or a bad _season_ has a great effect upon his\nspirits.\n\n_Cognatus_ has no other end in growing rich, but that he may leave\na considerable fortune to a _niece_, whom he has _politely_ educated\nin expensive finery, by what he has saved out of the tythes of _two\nlivings_.\n\nThe neighbours look upon _Cognatus_ as an happy clergyman, because\nthey see him (as they call it) in _good circumstances_; and some of\nthem intend to dedicate their own sons to the church, because they\nsee how well it has succeeded with _Cognatus_, whose father was but\nan _ordinary man_.\n\n\n\u26665. *But now if _Cognatus_, when he first entered into holy orders,\nhad perceived how absurd a thing it is to grow _rich_ by the gospel;\nif he had proposed to himself the example of some _primitive father_;\nif, instead of twenty years care to lay up treasures upon earth, he\nhad distributed the income of every year in the most Christian acts\nof charity.\n\n \u2666 Number 4 omitted in text.\n\nIf instead of tempting his _niece_ to be proud, and providing her with\nsuch ornaments as the _apostle_ forbids, he had cloathed, comforted,\nand relieved numbers of _widows_ and _orphans_, who were all to appear\nfor him at the last day:\n\n*If instead of the cares and anxieties of _bad bonds_, _troublesome\nmortgages_, and _ill bargains_, he had had the constant comfort of\nknowing, that his treasure was securely laid up, where neither moth\ncorrupteth, nor thieves break thro\u2019 and steal; could it with any\nreason be said, that he had mistaken the spirit and dignity of his\norder, or lessened any of that happiness, which is to be found in his\nsacred employment?\n\nIf instead of rejoicing in the happiness of a second _living_, he had\nthought it unbecoming the office of a clergyman to traffick for gain\nin _holy things_, as to open a shop.\n\n*If he had thought it better to recommend some _honest labour_ to his\n_niece_, than to support her in _idleness_ by the labour of a _curate_;\nbetter that she should want _fine cloaths_, and a _rich husband_, than\nthat cures of souls should be farmed out, and brother clergymen not\nsuffered to live by those altars at which they serve. If this had been\nthe spirit of _Cognatus_, could it with any reason be said, that these\nrules of religion, this strictness of piety, had robbed _Cognatus_ of\nany real happiness? Could it be said, that a life thus governed by the\nspirit of the gospel, must be _dull_ and _melancholy_, if compared to\nthat of raising a fortune for a _niece_?\n\n\n6. Look now at that condition of life which draws the envy of all.\n\n*_Negotius_ is a temperate, honest man. He served his time under\na master of great trade; but has, by his own management, made it a\nmore considerable business than ever it was before. For thirty years\nlast past, he has been corresponding with all parts of _Europe_. The\ngeneral good of trade seems to _Negotius_ to be the general good of\nlife; whatever he commends or condemns, either in church or state, is\ncommended, or condemned, with regard to trade.\n\nAs money is continually pouring in upon him; so he often lets it go\nin various kinds of expence and generosity, and sometimes in ways of\ncharity.\n\n_Negotius_ is always ready to join in any public contribution. If a\n_purse_ is making at any place where he happens to be, whether it be\nto buy a plate for a horse-race, or to redeem a _prisoner_ out of gaol,\nyou are always sure of having something from him.\n\nHe has given a fine _ring of bells_ to a church in the country; and\nthere is much expectation that he will some time or other make a more\nbeautiful _front_ to the _market-house_, than has yet been seen in any\nplace: for it is the generous spirit of _Negotius_, to do nothing in a\nmean way.\n\n\n7. If you ask what it is that has secured _Negotius_ from all\n_scandalous vices_, it is the same thing that has kept him from all\n_strictness of devotion_, it is his great business. He has always\nhad too many important things in his head: his thoughts are too much\nemployed, to suffer him to fall either into a course of _rakery_, or\nto feel the necessity of an _inward, solid_ piety.\n\nFor this reason he hears of the pleasures of debauchery, and the\npleasures of piety with the \u2666same indifferency; and has no more\ndesire of living in the one than in the other, because neither of them\nconsists with that turn of mind, and multiplicity of business, which\nare his happiness.\n\n \u2666 inserted omitted word \u2018same\u2019\n\n*If _Negotius_ was asked, what it is which he drives at in life? He\nwould be as much at a loss for an answer, as if he was asked, what any\nother person was thinking of. For though he always seems to himself to\nknow what he is doing, and has many things in his head, which are the\nmotives of his actions; yet he cannot tell you of any _one general\nend_ of life that he has chosen with deliberation, as being truly\nworthy of all his labour and pains.\n\nHe has several confused notions in his head, which have been a long\ntime there: such as these; that it is _something great_ to have more\nbusiness than other people, to have more dealings upon his hands\nthan a hundred of the same profession, to grow continually richer and\nricher, and to raise an immense fortune before he dies. The thing that\nseems to give _Negotius_ the greatest life and spirit, and to be most\nin his thoughts, is an expectation that he shall die richer than any\nof his business ever did.\n\n\n8. The generality of people when they think of happiness, think upon\n_Negotius_; in whose life every instance of happiness is supposed to\nmeet, sober, prudent, rich, prosperous, generous and charitable.\n\nLet us now look at this condition in another, but truer light.\n\n*Let it be supposed, that this same _Negotius_ was a painful,\nlaborious man, very deep in variety of affairs; that he neither drank,\nnor debauched, but was sober and regular in his business. Let it be\nsupposed, that he grew old in this course of trading, and that the\n_end_ and _design_ of all his labour, and care, and application to\nbusiness, was only this, that he might die possessed of more than an\nhundred thousand pair of _boots_ and _spurs_.\n\nLet it be supposed that the sober part of the world say of him when\nhe \u2666is dead, that he was a great and happy man, a thorough master of\nbusiness, and had acquired an hundred thousand pair of _boots_ and\n_spurs_ when he died.\n\n \u2666 \u2018his\u2019 replaced with \u2018is\u2019\n\n\n9. *Now if this was really the case, I believe that it would\nbe readily granted that a life of such business was as poor and\nridiculous as any that can be invented. But it would puzzle any one to\nshew, that a man that has spent all his time and thoughts in business\nand hurry, that he might die, as it is said, worth an hundred thousand\npounds, is any whit wiser than he, who has taken the same pains to\nhave as many pairs of _boots_ and _spurs_ when he leaves the world.\n\n*For if the _state_ of our souls be our _whole state_, if the only end\nof life be to die as _free_ from sin, and as _exalted_ in virtue as\nwe can; if naked as we came, so naked are we to return, and to stand\na trial before Christ and his holy angels, for everlasting happiness\nor misery, what can it possibly signify, what a man had, or had not,\nin this world? What can it signify what you call these things that a\nman left behind him; whether you call him _his_, or any _one\u2019s_ else;\nwhether you _call_ them _trees_ or _fields_, or birds and feathers;\nwhether you _call_ them an hundred _thousand pounds_, or an hundred\nthousand pair of _boots_ and _spurs_? I say _call_ them; for the\n_things_ signify no more to him than the _names_.\n\nNow \u2019tis easy to see the folly of a life thus spent, to furnish a\nman with such a number of _boots_ and _spurs_. But yet there needs no\nbetter faculty of seeing, no finer understanding, to see the folly of\na life spent in making a man possessor of _ten towns_ before he dies.\n\n*For if, when he has got all his _towns_, or all his _boots_, his\nsoul is to go into his _own place_ amongst separate spirits, and his\nbody to be laid by in a _coffin_, till the last trumpet calls him to\njudgment; where the enquiry will be, how _humbly_, how _devoutly_, how\n_meekly_, how _piously_, how _charitably_, we have _spoke_, _thought_,\nand _acted_, whilst we were in the body? How can we say, that he\nwho has wore out his life in raising an _hundred thousand pounds_,\nhas acted wiser for himself, than he who has had the same _care_ to\nprocure an hundred thousand of _any thing_ else?\n\n\n10. *But farther, let it now be supposed, that _Negotius_, when\nhe first entered into business, happening to read the gospel with\n_attention_, found he had a much greater business upon his hands, than\nthat to which he had served an apprenticeship: that there were things\nwhich belong to man, of much more importance than all that our eyes\ncan see; so glorious, as to deserve all our thoughts; so dangerous, as\nto need all our care; and so certain, as never to deceive the faithful\nlabourer.\n\nLet it be supposed, that by reading this book, he had discovered\nthat his soul was more to him than his body: that it was better to\ngrow in the virtues of the soul, than to have a large body, or a\nfull purse; that it was better to be fit for heaven, than to have a\nvariety of fine houses upon the earth; that it was better to secure\nan everlasting happiness, than to have plenty of things which he\ncannot keep; better to live in habits of humility, piety, charity, and\nself-denial, than to die unprepared for judgment; better to be most\nlike our Saviour, than to excel all the tradesmen in the world, in\nbusiness and bulk of fortune.\n\nLet it be supposed, that _Negotius_, believing these things to be true,\nentirely devoted himself to God at his first setting out in the world,\nresolving to pursue his _business_ no farther than was consistent with\ngreat devotion, humility, and self-denial; and for no other ends, but\nto provide himself with a sober subsistence, and to do all the good he\ncould, to the souls and bodies of his fellow creatures.\n\nLet it therefore be supposed, that instead of the continual hurry of\nbusiness, he was frequent in his retirements; that instead of restless\ndesires after more riches, his soul had been full of the love of God\nand heavenly affection, constantly watching against worldly tempers,\nand always aspiring after divine grace; that instead of worldly cares\nand contrivances, he had been busy in fortifying his soul against\nall approaches of sin; that instead of costly shew, and the expensive\ngenerosity of a splendid life, he had loved and exercised all\ninstances of humility and lowliness; that instead of great treats and\nfull tables, his house had only furnished a sober refreshment to those\nthat wanted it.\n\nLet it be supposed, that his contentment kept him free from all kinds\nof envy: that his piety made him thankful to God in all crosses and\ndisappointments: that his charity kept him from being rich, by a\ncontinual distribution to all objects of compassion.\n\n\n\u266612. Now, had this been the Christian spirit of _Negotius_, can\nany one say, that he had lost the true happiness of life, by thus\nconforming to the Spirit, and living up to the hope of the gospel?\n\n \u2666 Number 11 omitted in text.\n\n*Can it be said, that a life made exemplary by such virtues as these,\nwhich keep heaven always in our sight, which both delight and exalt\nthe soul here, and prepare it for the presence of God hereafter, must\nbe _poor_ and _dull_, if compared to that of heaping up riches, which\ncan neither stay with us, nor we with them?\n\nIt would be endless to multiply examples of this kind, to shew you how\nlittle is lost, and how much is gained, by introducing a strict and\nexact piety into every condition of human life.\n\nI shall now therefore leave it to your own meditation, to carry this\nway of thinking farther, hoping that enough is said, to convince\nyourself, that an exalted piety is so far from rendering any life dull\nand tiresome, that it is the only joy and happiness of any condition\nin the world.\n\n\n13. *Imagine to yourself some person in a _consumption_, or any other\n_lingering distemper_ that was _incurable_.\n\nIf you was to see such a man wholly intent upon doing every thing in\nthe spirit of religion, making the wisest use of all his time, fortune,\nand abilities. If he was for carrying every duty of piety to its\ngreatest height, and striving to have all the advantage that could be\nhad in the remainder of his life: if he avoided all business, but such\nas was necessary; if he was averse to all the follies and vanities\nof the world, had no taste for _finery_ and _shew_, but sought for\nall his comfort in the hopes and expeditions of religion, you would\ncertainly commend his prudence; you would say, that he had taken the\nright method to make himself as joyful and happy, as any one can be in\na state of such infirmity.\n\n*On the other hand, if you should see the same person, with\n_trembling_ hands, short breath, _thin_ jaws, and _hollow_ eyes,\nwholly intent upon business and bargains, as long as he could speak:\nif you should see him pleased with _fine cloaths_, when he could\nscarce stand to be dressed, and laying out his money in _horses_ and\n_dogs_, rather than purchase the prayers of the poor for his soul,\nwhich was so soon to be separated from his body, you would certainly\ncondemn him, as a weak, silly man.\n\n\n14. Now, as it is easy to see the reasonableness, the wisdom and\nhappiness of a religious spirit in a _consumptive man_; so, if you\npursue the same way of thinking, you will as easily perceive the same\nwisdom and happiness of a pious temper in every other state of life.\n\nFor how soon will any man that is in _health_, be in the state of\nhim that is in a _consumption_? How soon will he want all the same\ncomforts of religion, which every dying man wants?\n\n*And if it be wise and happy to live piously, because we have not\nabove a year to live, is it not being more wise, and making ourselves\nmore happy, to live piously, because we may have more years to come?\nIf one year of piety before we die, is so desirable, are not more\nyears of piety much more desirable?\n\n\n15. If a man had _five fixed_ years to live, he could not possibly\nthink at all, without intending to make the best use of them _all_.\nWhen he saw his stay so short in this world, he must needs think\nthat this was not a world for him; and when he saw how near he was to\nanother world, that was eternal, he must surely think it necessary to\nbe very diligent in preparing for it.\n\nNow as reasonable as piety appears in such a circumstance of life,\nit is yet more reasonable in every circumstance of life, to every\nthinking man.\n\nFor who but a madman can recount that he has _five_ years _certain_ to\ncome?\n\n*And if it be reasonable and necessary to deny our worldly tempers,\nand live wholly unto God, because we are _certain_ that we are to die\nat the end of _five years_; surely it must be much more reasonable\nand necessary for us to live in the same spirit, because we have no\n_certainty_ that we shall live _five weeks_.\n\n\n16. *Again, if we are to add _twenty_ years to the _five_, which is,\nin all probability, more than will be added to the lives of many\npeople, who are at man\u2019s estate; what a poor thing it is! How small\na difference is there between five, and twenty-five years?\n\nIt is said, that a _day_ is with God as a _thousand years_, and a\nthousand years as one day; because, in regard to his eternity, this\ndifference is as nothing.\n\n*Now, as we are created to be _eternal_, to live an endless succession\nof ages upon ages, where _thousands_, and _millions of thousands_ of\nyears will have no proportion to our everlasting life in God; so with\nregard to his eternal state, which is our real state, twenty-five\n_years_ is as poor a pittance as twenty-five _days_.\n\nWe can never make any true judgment of time as it relates to us,\nwithout considering the true state of our _duration_. If we are\n_temporary_ beings, then a little time may justly be called a great\ndeal in relation to us; but if we are _eternal_ beings, then the\ndifference of a few years is as nothing.\n\n\n17. If we were to suppose _three_ different _sorts_ of rational\nbeings, all of _different_, but _fixed_ duration; one sort that lived\n_certainly_ only a _month_, the other a _year_, and the third an\n_hundred years_.\n\nIf these beings were to meet together, and talk about time, they must\ntalk in a very different language. _Half_ an _hour_ to those who were\nto live but a _month_, must be a very different thing, to what it is\nto those, who are to live an _hundred years_.\n\nAs therefore time is thus a different thing, with regard to the\n_state_ of those who enjoy it; so if we would know what time is with\nregard to ourselves, we must consider our state.\n\nNow since our eternal state, is as certainly ours, as our present\nstate; since we are as certainly to live for ever, as we are now\nto live at all; it is plain, that we cannot judge of the value of\nany particular time, as to us, but by comparing it to that eternal\nduration for which we are created.\n\nIf you would know what _five years_ signify to a being that was to\nlive an _hundred_, you must compare _five_ to a _hundred_, and see\nwhat proportion it bears to it, and then you would judge right.\n\n*So if you would know, what _twenty_ years signify to a son of _Adam_,\nyou must compare it, not to a _million_ of ages, but to an _eternal\nduration_, to which no number of millions bears any proportion; and\nthen you will judge right, by finding it _nothing_.\n\n\n18. Consider therefore this; how would you condemn the folly of a man,\nthat should lose his share of future glory, for the sake of being\n_rich_, or _great_, or _praised_, or delighted in _any enjoyment_,\nonly _one poor_ day before he was to die!\n\nBut if the time will come, when a number of years will seem less to\nevery one than a day does now; what a condemnation must it then be,\nif eternal happiness should be lost, for something less than the\nenjoyment of a day!\n\nWhy does a day seem a trifle to us now? It is because we have years\nto set against it. It is the duration of years that makes it seem as\nnothing.\n\n*What a _trifle_ therefore must the years of a _man_\u2019s _age_ appear,\nwhen they are forced to be set against _eternity_, when there shall be\nnothing but eternity to compare them with!\n\n*And this will be the case of every man, as soon as he is out of the\nbody; he will be forced to forget the distinction of days and years,\nand to measure time, not by the course of the sun, but by setting it\nagainst eternity.\n\nAs the _fixed stars_, by reason of our being placed at such distance\nfrom them, appear but as so many _points_; so when we, placed in\neternity, shall look back upon _all time_, it will appear but as a\n_moment_.\n\n*Then, a _luxury_, an _indulgence_, a _prosperity_, a _greatness_ of\n_fifty_ years, will seem to every one that looks back upon it, as the\nsame _poor short_ enjoyment, as if he had been snatched away in his\n_first sin_.\n\nThese few reflections upon _time_, are only to shew how poorly they\nthink, how miserably they judge, who are less careful of an eternal\nstate, because they _may_ be at some _years_ distance from it, than\nthey would be, if they knew they were within a few _weeks of it_.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n _Concerning that part of devotion which relates to |times|\n and |hours| of |prayer|. Of daily |early| prayer in the\n morning. How we may improve our |forms| of prayer, and\n increase the |spirit| of devotion._\n\n\n1. HAVING in the foregoing chapters shewn the necessity of a devout\nspirit, in every part of our common life, in the discharge of all our\nbusiness, in the use of all the gifts of God: I come now to consider\nthat part of devotion, which relates to _times_ and _hours_ of prayer.\n\n*I take it for granted, that every Christian, that is in health, is\nup _early_ in the morning; for it is much more reasonable to suppose\na person up _early_, because he is a _Christian_, than because he is\na _labourer_, or a _tradesman_, or a _servant_, or has business that\nwants him.\n\n*We naturally conceive some abhorrence of a man that is in _bed_, when\nhe should be at his _labour_, or in his _shop_. We can\u2019t tell how to\nthink any thing good of him, who is such a slave to drowsiness, as to\nneglect his business for it.\n\n*Let this therefore teach us to conceive, how odious we must appear\nin the sight of heaven, if we are in _bed_, shut up in _sleep_, when\nwe should be praising God; and are such slaves to drowsiness, as to\nneglect our devotions for it.\n\nFor if he is to be blamed as a _slothful drone_, that rather chuses\nthe lazy indulgence of sleep, than to perform his proper worldly\nbusiness, how much more is he to be reproached, that had rather lie\nfolded up in a bed, than be raising up his heart to God in acts of\npraise and adoration.\n\n\n2. Prayer is the nearest approach to God, and the highest enjoyment of\nhim, that we are capable of in this life.\n\nIt is the noblest exercise of the soul, the most exalted use of our\nbest faculties, and the highest imitation of the blessed inhabitants\nof heaven.\n\nWhen our hearts are full of God, sending up holy desires to the throne\nof grace, we are then in our highest state, we are upon the utmost\nheight of human greatness; we are not before _kings_ and _princes_,\nbut in the presence of the _Lord_ of all the world, and can be no\nhigher till death is swallowed up in glory.\n\nOn the other hand, _sleep_ is the _poorest_, _dullest_ refreshment of\nthe body; that is so far from being intended as an _enjoyment_, that\nwe are forced to receive it either in a state of _insensibility_, or\nin the folly of _dreams_.\n\n*_Sleep_, is such a _dull_, _stupid_ state of existence, than even\namongst _mere animals_, we despise them most which are most drowsy.\nHe therefore that chuses to enlarge the slothful indolence of sleep,\nrather than be early at his devotions to God; chuses the dullest\nrefreshment of the body, before the highest, noblest enjoyment of the\nsoul; he chuses that state, which is a reproach to _mere animals_,\nrather than that exercise, which is the glory of _angels_.\n\n\n3. *Besides, he that cannot deny himself this drowsy indulgence, but\nmust pass away good part of the morning in it, is no more prepared\nfor prayer when he is up, than he is prepared for _fasting_, or any\nother _self-denial_. He may, indeed, more easily read over a _form_ of\nprayer, than he can perform those duties; but he is no more disposed\nfor the _true spirit_ of prayer, than he is disposed for _fasting_.\nFor sleep, thus indulged, gives a _softness_ and _idleness_ to all our\ntempers, and makes us unable to relish any thing, but what suits with\nan _idle state_ of mind, and gratifies our natural tempers, as sleep\ndoes. So that a person that is a slave to this idleness, is in the\nsame temper when he is up; and tho\u2019 he is not asleep, yet he is under\nthe effects of it: and every thing that is _idle_, _indulgent_, or\n_sensual_, pleases him for the same reason that sleep pleases him:\non the other hand, every thing that requires _care_, _trouble_, or\n_self-denial_, is hateful to him for the same reason that he hates to\nrise.\n\n\n4. It is not possible in nature for an _epicure_ to be truly devout;\nhe must renounce his sensuality, before he can relish the happiness of\ndevotion.\n\nNow, he that turns sleep into an _idle indulgence_, does as much to\ncorrupt his soul, to make it a slave to bodily appetites, as he that\nturns the necessity of eating into a course of indulgence.\n\nA person that eats and drinks too much, does not feel such effects\nfrom it as those do, who live in _notorious_ gluttony and intemperance;\nbut yet his course of indulgence, tho\u2019 it be not _scandalous_ in\nthe eyes of the world, nor such as _torments_ his own conscience,\nis a great and constant hindrance to his improvement in virtue: it\ngives him _eyes that see not_, and _ears that hear not_; it creates\na sensuality in the soul, increases the power of bodily passions, and\nmakes him incapable of entering into the true spirit of religion.\n\nAnd this is the case of those who waste their time in sleep; it\ndoes not _disorder_ their lives, or _wound_ their consciences, as\n_notorious acts_ of intemperance do; but, like any other more moderate\ncourse of indulgence, it silently, and by smaller degrees, wears away\nthe spirit of religion, and sinks the soul into a state of dulness and\nsensuality.\n\n\n5. If you consider devotion only as a _time_ of so much prayer, you\nmay perhaps perform it, tho\u2019 you live in this daily indulgence; but\nif you consider it as a _state_ of the heart, that is deeply affected\nwith a sense of its own misery and infirmities, and desires the Spirit\nof God more than all things in the world, you will find the spirit\nof indulgence, and the spirit of prayer, cannot subsist together.\nSelf-denial, of _all kinds_, is the very life and soul of piety; but\nhe that has not so small a degree of it, as to be able to be early\nat his prayers, can have no reason to think that he has taken up his\ncross, and is following Christ.\n\n*What conquest has he got over himself? What right-hand has he cut\noff? What trials is he prepared for? What sacrifice is he ready to\noffer to God, who cannot be so cruel to himself, as to rise to prayer\nat such a time, as the drudging part of the world are content to rise\nto their labour?\n\n\n6. *Some people will not scruple to tell you, that they indulge\nthemselves in sleep, because they have nothing to do: and that if they\nhad either _business_ or _pleasure_ to rise to, they would not lose so\nmuch of their time in sleep. But such people must be told, that they\nmistake the matter; that they have a great deal of business to do;\nthey have a _hardened heart_ to change; they have the _whole spirit_\nof religion to get. For surely, he that thinks devotion to be of\nless moment than business or pleasure; or that he has nothing to do,\nbecause nothing but his prayers want him, may be justly said to have\nthe whole spirit of religion to seek.\n\nYou must not therefore consider how small a crime it is to _rise late_;\nbut you must consider how great a misery it is to want the _spirit_\nof religion; to have a heart not rightly affected with prayer, and to\nlive in such softness and idleness, as makes you incapable of the most\nfundamental duties of a Christian life.\n\nWhen you read the scriptures, you see a religion that is all _life_,\nand _spirit_, and _joy_ in God; that supposes our souls risen from\nearthly desires and bodily indulgences, to prepare for another body,\nanother world, and other enjoyments. You see Christians represented as\ntemples of the Holy Ghost, as children of the day, as candidates for\nan eternal crown, as watchful virgins, that have their lamps always\nburning in expectation of the bridegroom. But can he be thought to\nhave this joy in God, this care of eternity, this watchful spirit, who\nhas not zeal enough to rise to his prayers?\n\n\n7. If I was to desire you not to study the gratification of your\n_palate_, in the niceties of meats and drinks, I would not insist\nupon the crime of wasting your money in such a way, tho\u2019 it be a great\none; but I would desire you to renounce such a way of life, because it\nsupports you in such a state of sensuality and indulgence, as renders\nyou incapable of relishing the most essential doctrines of religion.\n\nFor the same reason, I don\u2019t insist much upon the crime of wasting\nyour time in sleep, tho\u2019 it be a great one; but I desire you to\nrenounce this indulgence, because it gives a softness and idleness to\nyour soul, and is so contrary to that _lively_, _zealous_, _watchful_,\n_self-denying_ spirit, which was not only the Spirit of Christ and his\napostles, and the spirit of all the saints and martyrs which have ever\nbeen among men, but must be the spirit of those who would not sink in\nthe common corruption of the world.\n\n*Here therefore we must fix our charge against this practice; we must\nblame it not as having this or that particular evil, but as a _general\nhabit_, that extends itself thro\u2019 our whole spirit, and supports a\nstate of mind that is wholly wrong.\n\nIt is contrary to piety; not as accidental slips and mistakes in life\nare contrary to it, but in such a manner, as an ill habit of body is\ncontrary to health.\n\nOn the other hand, if you was to rise early every morning, as an\ninstance of self-denial, as a method of renouncing indulgence, as\na means of redeeming your time, and fitting your spirit for prayer,\nyou would find mighty advantages from it. This method, tho\u2019 it seems\nsuch a small circumstance, would in all probability, be a means of\ngreat piety. It would keep it constantly in your head, that softness\nand idleness were to be avoided; that self-denial was a part of\nChristianity. It would teach you to exercise power over yourself, and\nmake you able to renounce other pleasures and tempers that war against\nthe soul.\n\nBut above all, what is so planted and watered, will certainly have an\nincrease from God. You will then speak from your heart, your soul will\nbe awake, your prayers will refresh you like meat and drink, you will\nfeel what you say, and begin to know what saints and holy men have\nmeant by fervour in devotion.\n\n\n8. Hoping therefore that you are now convinced of the necessity of\nrising early to your prayers, I shall proceed to lay before you a\nmethod of daily prayer.\n\nI don\u2019t take upon me to prescribe to you the use of any _particular\nforms_ of prayer, but you will here find some helps, how to furnish\nyourself with such as may be useful. And if your heart is ready to\npray in its own language, I press no necessity of borrowed forms.\n\nFor tho\u2019 I think a form of prayer very _necessary_ to _public_ worship,\nyet if any one can find a better way of raising his heart unto God in\nprivate, I have nothing to object against it; my design being only to\nassist and direct such as stand in need of this assistance.\n\nIt seems right for such an one to begin with a _form_ of prayer; and\nif, in the midst of it he finds his heart ready to break forth into\nother words, he may leave his _form_, and follow those fervours of his\nheart, till it again want the assistance of his usual petitions.\n\n*This seems to be the _true liberty_ of _private_ devotion: it may\nbe under the direction of some _form_; yet not so tied down to it,\nbut that it may be free to take such new expressions as its present\nfervours furnish it with, which sometimes carry the soul more\npowerfully to God, than any expressions that were ever used before.\n\n\n9. Most people are changeable in regard to devotion. Sometimes our\nhearts have such _strong_ apprehensions of the divine presence, and\nare so full of compunction, that we cannot speak in any language but\nthat of _tears_.\n\nSometimes the light of God\u2019s countenance shines so bright, we see so\nfar into the invisible world, we are so affected with the wonders of\nthe goodness of God, that our hearts worship in a language higher than\nthat of words, and we feel transports of devotion, which only can be\nfelt.\n\nOn the other hand, sometimes we are so sunk into our bodies, so _dull_\nand _unaffected_ with that which concerns our souls, that we cannot\nkeep pace with our _forms_ of confession, or feel half of that in\nour hearts, which we have in our mouths; we thank and praise God with\nforms of words, but our hearts have little or no share in them.\n\nWe may provide against this _inconstancy_ of our hearts, by having at\nhand such _forms_ of prayer, as may best suit us when our hearts are\nin their _best_ state, and also be most likely to stir them up, when\nthey are _sunk_ into _dulness_.\n\n\n10. The first thing you are to do, when you are upon your knees, is,\nwith a short _silence_, let your soul place itself in the presence\nof God; use this, or some other method, to separate yourself from all\ncommon thoughts, and make your heart as sensible as you can of the\ndivine presence.\n\nNow, if this recollection of spirit is necessary, as who can say it is\nnot? How poorly must they perform their devotions, who are always in a\n_hurry_; who begin them in haste, and hardly allow themselves time to\nrepeat their very _form_, with attention? Theirs is properly _saying_\nprayers, instead of _praying_.\n\nIf you was to use yourself, as far as you can, to pray always in the\nsame place; if you was to reserve that place for devotion, and not\nallow yourself to do any thing common in it; if you was never to be\nthere yourself, but in times of devotion; if any _little room_, or, if\nthat cannot be, if any particular _part_ of a room was thus used, this\nkind of consecration of it, as a place _holy_ unto God, would much\nassist your devotion.\n\n\n11. It may be of use to you to observe this farther rule: when at any\ntime, either in reading the _scripture_, or any book of _piety_, you\nmeet with a passage, that more than ordinarily affects your mind, turn\nit into the _form_ of a petition, and give it a place in your prayers.\n\nAt all the _stated hours_ of prayer, it may be of benefit to you, to\nhave something _fixed_, and something at _liberty_, in your devotions.\n\nYou may have some _fixed_ subject to be the chief matter of your\nprayer at that particular time; and yet have liberty to add such\n_other petitions_, as your condition may then require.\n\nFor instance; as the _morning_ is to you the beginning of a new\nlife; as God has then given you a new enjoyment of yourself, and a\nfresh entrance into the world, it is highly proper that your _first_\ndevotions should be _praise_ and thanksgiving to God, as for a new\ncreation; and that you should devote _body_ and _soul_, all you _are_,\nand all you _have_, to his service and glory.\n\nReceive therefore every day, as a _resurrection_ from death, as a new\nenjoyment of life; meet every _rising sun_ with such sentiments of\nGod\u2019s goodness, as if you had seen it, and all things, _new created_\nupon your account; and under the sense of so great a blessing, let\nyour heart praise and magnify so good and glorious a Creator.\n\nTherefore _praise_ and _thanksgiving_, and _oblation_ of yourself to\nGod, may be the _fixed_ subject of your _first_ prayers in the morning;\nand then take the liberty of adding such other devotions, as the\n_accidental_ difference of your state, or the accidental difference of\nyour heart, shall direct.\n\n\n12. *One of the greatest benefits of _private_ devotion, consists\nin adapting our prayers to the difference of our _state_, and the\ndifference of our hearts.\n\n*By the difference of our _state_, is meant the difference of our\n_external state_, as of _sickness_, _health_, _pains_, _losses_,\n_disappointments_, _troubles_, particular _mercies_ or _judgments_\nfrom God, and all sorts of _kindnesses_, _injuries_, or _reproaches_\nfrom other people.\n\nNow, as these are great parts of our state of life, as they make\ngreat difference in it, by continually changing; so our devotion\nwill be made doubly beneficial to us, when it watches to receive and\nsanctify all these _changes_ of our state, and turns them all into\nso many occasions of a more particular application to God, of such\nthanksgivings, such resignation, such petitions, as our present state\nmore especially requires.\n\n*And he that makes every change in his state, a reason of presenting\nunto God some particular petitions suitable to that change, will soon\nfind, that he has taken an excellent means, not only of _praying_ with\nfervour, but of _living_ as he prays.\n\n\n13. *We are likewise always to adapt some part of our prayers to\nthe _difference_ of our _hearts_; by which is meant the different\ntempers of our hearts, as of _love_, _joy_, _peace_, _tranquility_,\n_dulness_ and _dryness_ of _spirit_, _anxiety_, _discontent_,\n_motions_ of _envy_ and _ambition_, _dark_ and _disconsolate thoughts_,\n_resentments_, _fretfulness_, and _peevish tempers_.\n\nIf we are in the delightful calm of sweet and easy passions, of _love_\nand _joy_ in God, we should then offer the tribute of thanksgiving.\n\nIf, on the other hand, we feel ourselves laden with _heavy_ passions,\nwith _dulness_ of spirit, _anxiety_ and _uneasiness_, we must then\nlook up to God in acts of humility, confessing our unworthiness,\nopening our troubles to him, beseeching him in his good time to lessen\nour infirmities, and to deliver us from these passions.\n\nBy this wise application of our prayers, we shall get all the relief\nfrom them that is possible; and the very _changeableness_ of our\nhearts, will prove a means of exercising a greater variety of holy\ntempers.\n\nYou will perceive by this, that persons ought to have a great share in\ncomposing their own devotions.\n\nAs to that part of their prayers, which is always fixed, they may use\nforms composed by other persons; but in that part which they are to\nsuit to the present _state_ of their _life_, and the _present_ state\nof their _heart_, they must let the sense of their own condition help\nthem to such kinds of _petition_, _thanksgiving_, or _resignation_, as\ntheir present state requires.\n\n\n14. But it is amazing to see how \u2666eagerly men employ their _parts_,\ntheir _study_, _application_, and _exercise_; how all helps are called\nto their assistance, when any thing is intended in worldly matters;\nand how little they use their _parts_, _sagacity_, and abilities, to\nraise and increase their devotion.\n\n \u2666 \u2018eargerly\u2019 replaced with \u2018eagerly\u2019\n\n*_Mandanus_ is a man of excellent parts, and clear apprehension.\nHe is well advanced in age, and has made a great figure in his\nbusiness. Every part of _trade_ that has fallen in his way, has had\nsome improvement from him; and he is always contriving to carry every\nmethod of doing any thing well to its greatest height. _Mandanus_\naims at the greatest perfection in every thing. The _strength_ of his\nmind, and his just way of thinking, make him intent upon removing all\nimperfections.\n\nHe can tell you all the defects and errors in all the common methods,\nwhether of _trade_, _building_, or improving _land_ or _manufactures_.\nThe clearness and strength of his understanding, which he is\nconstantly improving, by continual exercise in these matters, by\noften digesting his thoughts in writing, and trying every thing every\nway, has rendered him a great master in most concerns in human life.\n\nThus has _Mandanus_ gone on, increasing his _knowledge_ and _judgment_,\nas fast as his years came upon him.\n\nThe one thing which has not fallen under his improvement, nor received\nany benefit from his judicious mind, is his _devotion_: this is just\nin the same _poor_ state it was, when he was only six years of age;\nand the _old man_ prays now in that little form of words which his\nmother used to hear him repeat night and morning.\n\nThis _Mandanus_, that hardly ever saw the poorest _utensil_, or ever\ntook the meanest _trifle_ into his hand, without considering how\nit might be _made_, or _used_ to better advantage, has gone all his\nlife-long praying in the same manner as when he was a child; without\never considering how much _better_ or _oftner_ he might pray.\n\nIf _Mandanus_ sees a book of _devotion_, he passes it by, as he does\na _spelling-book_; because he remembers that he learned to _pray_ so\nmany years ago under his _mother_, when he learnt to _spell_.\n\nNow, how poor and pitiable is the conduct of this man of sense, who\nhas so much judgment in every thing, but that which is the _whole\nwisdom_ of man?\n\nAnd how miserably do many people, more or less, imitate this conduct?\n\n\n15. *_Classicus_ is a man of learning, and well versed in all the best\nauthors of antiquity. He has read them so much, that he has entered\ninto their spirit, and can imitate the manner of any of them. All\ntheir thoughts are his thoughts, and he can express himself in their\nlanguage. He is so great a friend to this improvement of the mind,\nthat if he lights on a young scholar, he never fails to advise him\nconcerning his studies.\n\n_Classicus_ tells his young man, he must not think he has done\nenough, when he has only learnt _languages_; but that he must be daily\nconversant with the best authors, read them again and again, catch\ntheir spirit by living with them; and that there is no other way\nof becoming like them, or of making himself a man of _taste_ and\n_judgment_.\n\nHow wise might _Classicus_ have been, if he had but thought as\n_justly_ of _devotion_, as he does of _learning_?\n\nHe never, indeed, says any thing _shocking_ or _offensive_ about\n_devotion_, because he never _thinks_ or _talks_ about it. It suffers\nnothing from him, but neglect and disregard.\n\nThe two testaments would not have had so much as a place amongst his\nbooks, but that they are both to be had in _Greek_.\n\n\n16. _Classicus_ thinks, he sufficiently shews his regard for the holy\nscripture, when he tells you, that he has no other books of piety\nbesides them.\n\nIt is very well, _Classicus_, that you prefer the bible to all other\nbooks of piety; he has no judgment, that is not thus far of your\nopinion.\n\nBut if you will have no other book of piety besides the _bible_,\nbecause it is the best, how comes it, _Classicus_, that you don\u2019t\ncontent yourself with _one_ of the _best_ books among the _Greeks_ and\n_Romans_? How comes it that you are so eager after _all_ of them? How\ncomes it that you think the knowledge of one is a necessary help to\nthe knowledge of the other? How comes it that you are so earnest, so\nlaborious, so expensive of your time and money, to restore _broken\nperiods_, and _scraps_ of the ancients?\n\nHow comes it that you tell your _young scholar_, he must not content\nhimself with barely understanding his authors, but must be continually\nreading them _all_, as the only means of entering into their spirit,\nand forming his own judgment according to them?\n\nWhy then must the bible lie alone in your study? Is not the spirit of\nthe saints, the piety of the holy followers of Jesus Christ, as good\nand necessary a means of entering into the spirit and _taste_ of the\ngospel, as the reading of the ancients is of entering into the spirit\nof antiquity?\n\nIs your young poet to search after _every line_, that may give new\nwings to his fancy, or direct his imagination? And is it not as\nreasonable for him, who desires to improve in the divine life, to\nsearch after every strain of devotion, that may move, kindle, and\ninflame the holy ardour of his soul?\n\nDo you advise your _orator_ to translate the best orations, to commit\nmuch of them to memory, to be frequently exercising his talent in this\nmanner, that habits of thinking and speaking justly may be formed in\nhis mind? And is there not the same advantage to be made by books of\ndevotion? Should not a man use them in the same way, that habits of\ndevotion, and aspiring to God in holy thoughts, may be well formed in\nhis soul?\n\nNow the reason why _Classicus_ does not _think_ and judge thus\nreasonably of devotion, is owing to his never thinking of it in any\nother manner, than as the repeating a _form_ of _words_. It never in\nhis life entered into his head, to think of devotion as a _state of\nthe heart_, as a _temper_ that is to _grow_ and _increase_ like our\n_reason_ and _judgment_, and to be formed in us by such a diligent use\nof proper means, as are necessary to form any other wise habit of mind.\n\nAnd it is for want of this, that he has been content all his life with\nthe _bare letter_ of prayer, and eagerly bent upon entering into the\n_spirit_ of _Heathen poets_ and _orators_.\n\nAnd it is much to be lamented, that numbers of _scholars_ are\n_more_ or _less_ chargeable with this excessive folly; so negligent\nof improving their devotion, and so desirous of other poor\naccomplishments, as if they thought it a nobler talent, to be able\nto write an _epigram_ in the _turn_ of _Martial_, than to _live_, and\n_think_, and _pray_ to God, in the spirit of St. _Austin_.\n\nAnd yet if you was to ask _Mandanus_ and _Classicus_, or any man of\nbusiness or learning, whether _piety_ is not the highest perfection\nof man, or _devotion_ the greatest attainment in the world, they must\nboth be forced to answer in the affirmative, or else give up the truth\nof the gospel.\n\n\n17. Devotion is nothing else but _right apprehensions_ and _right\naffections_ towards God.\n\nAll practices therefore that improve our true apprehensions of\nGod, all ways of life that tend to _nourish_, _raise_, and fix our\naffections upon him, are to be reckoned so many helps and means of\ndevotion.\n\nAs _prayer_ is the proper fuel of this holy flame, so we must use all\nour care to give prayer its full power; as by _alms_, _self-denial_,\nfrequent _retirements_, and _holy readings_, composing _forms_\nfor ourselves, or using the _best_ we can get, adding _length_ of\ntime, and observing _hours_ of prayer; _changing_, _improving_, and\n_suiting_ our devotions to the condition of our lives, and the state\nof our hearts.\n\nThose who have most leisure, seem more especially called to a more\neminent observance of this; and they, who by the necessity of their\nstate, have but little time to employ thus, must make the best use of\nthat little they have.\n\n\n18. There is one thing more I would advise; and that is, to begin your\nprayers with a _psalm_.\n\nI don\u2019t mean, that you should _read_ over a psalm, but that you should\n_chant_ or _sing_ one.\n\nThe difference between singing and reading a psalm, will be easily\nunderstood, if you consider the difference between reading and singing\na _common song_ that you like. Whilst you only read it, you only\n_like_ it; but as soon as you _sing_ it, you feel the _same spirit_\nwithin you, that there seems to be in the words.\n\nYou will perhaps say, you cannot sing.\n\nThis objection might be of weight, if you was desired to sing to\nentertain other people; but it is not to be admitted in the present\ncase, where you are only advised to sing the praises of God in private.\n\nDo but so live, that your heart may truly rejoice in God, that it may\nfeel itself affected with the praises of God; and then you will find,\nthat this state of your heart will neither want a voice, nor ear, to\nfind a tune for a psalm.\n\n\n19. *The union of soul and body, is not a mixture of their substances,\nas we see bodies united and mixed together, but consists solely in the\nmutual power that they have of acting upon one another.\n\n*If two persons were in such a state of dependance upon one another,\nthat neither of them could act, or move, or think, or feel, or suffer,\nor desire any thing, without putting the other into the same condition,\none might properly say, that they were in a state of strict union,\naltho\u2019 their substances were not united together.\n\n*Now this is the union of the soul and body; the substance of the one\ncannot be mixed or united with the other; but they are held together\nin such a state of union, that all the actions and sufferings of the\none, are at the same time the actions and sufferings of the other. The\nsoul has no thought or passion, but the body is concerned in it; the\nbody has no action or motion, but what, in some degree, affects the\nsoul.\n\nNow, as it is the sole will of God, that is the _cause_ of all the\npowers and effects which you see in the world; as the _sun_ gives\nlight and heat, not because it has any natural power of so doing;\nas it is fixed in a certain place, and other bodies moving about it;\nnot because it is in the nature of the sun to stand still, and in\nthe nature of other bodies to move about it; but merely because it is\nthe _will_ of God, that they should be in such a state: as the _eye_\nis the organ, or instrument of seeing, not because the _skins_, and\n_coats_, and _humours_ of the eye, have a natural power of giving\nsight: as the ears are the organs, or instruments of hearing, not\nbecause the _make_ of the ear has any natural power over sounds, but\nmerely because it is the will of God, that _seeing_ and _hearing_\nshould be thus received; so it is the sole will of God, that is the\ncause of this union betwixt the soul and the body.\n\n\n20. If you rightly apprehend this short account of the union of the\nsoul and body, you will see a great deal into the reason of all the\noutward parts of religion.\n\nThis union of our souls and bodies, is the reason both why we have\nso little and so much power over ourselves. It is owing to this, that\nwe have so little power over our souls: for as we cannot prevent the\neffects of external objects upon our bodies; as we cannot command\noutward causes; so we cannot always command the inward state of our\nminds; because, as outward objects act upon our bodies without our\nleave, so our bodies act upon our minds by the laws of the union vital.\nAnd thus you see it is owing to this union, that we have so _little_\npower over ourselves.\n\nOn the other hand, it is owing to this union, that we have so _much_\npower over ourselves. For as our souls in a great measure depend\nupon our bodies; and as we have great power over these; as we can\nmortify our bodies, and remove ourselves from objects that inflame\nour passions; so we have a great power over the _inward_ state of our\nsouls. Again, as the outward acts of reading, praying, singing, and\nthe like, have an effect upon the soul; so by being masters of these\noutward, bodily actions, we have great power over the inward state of\nthe heart.\n\nAnd thus it is owing to this union, that we have so much power over\nourselves.\n\nNow from this you may see the benefit of singing psalms, and of all\nthe outward acts of religion; for if the body has so much power over\nthe soul, all such bodily actions as affect the soul, are of great\nweight in religion, because they are proper to support that _spirit_,\nwhich is the true worship of God.\n\n\n21. This doctrine may be easily carried too far; for by calling in too\nmany outward means of worship, it may degenerate into superstition.\nBut some have fallen into the contrary extreme. Because religion is\njustly placed in the heart, they renounce vocal prayer, and other\noutward acts of worship, and resolve all religion into a _quietism_,\nor _mystic_ intercourse with God in silence.\n\nBut since we are neither _all soul_, nor _all body_; seeing none of\nour actions are either separately of the soul, or separately of the\nbody; if we would truly prostrate ourselves before God, we must use\nour bodies to postures of lowliness. If we desire true fervours of\ndevotion, we must make prayer the frequent labour of our lips. If we\nwould feel inward joy and delight in God, we must practise all the\noutward acts of it, and make our voices call upon our hearts.\n\nNow therefore, you may plainly see the reason of _singing of psalms_;\nit is because outward actions are necessary to support inward tempers.\n\n\n22. I have been the longer upon this head, because of its importance\nto true religion. For there is no state of mind so excellent, as\nthat of _thankfulness_ to God; and consequently, nothing is of more\nimportance than that which exercises and improves this habit of mind.\n\n*An _uneasy_, _complaining_ spirit, which is sometimes the spirit of\nthose that seem careful of religion, is yet of all tempers the most\ncontrary to religion; for it disowns that God which it pretends to\nadore. For he sufficiently disowns God, who does not adore him as a\nbeing of infinite goodness.\n\n*If a man does not believe that all the world is as God\u2019s family,\nwhere nothing happens by chance, but all is guided and directed by\nthe care and providence of a being that is all love and goodness to\nall his creatures; if a man does not believe this from his heart, he\ncannot be said to believe in God. And yet he that has this faith, has\nfaith enough to be always thankful to God. For he that believes every\nthing happens to him for the _best_, cannot complain for the want of\nsomething that is _better_.\n\nIf therefore you live in murmurings and complaints, it is not because\nyou are a weak, infirm creature, but it is because you want the first\nprinciple of religion, a right belief in God. For as thankfulness\nis an express acknowledgement of the goodness of God towards you; so\nrepinings and complaints are as plain accusations of God\u2019s want of\ngoodness towards you.\n\n*On the other hand, would you know who is the greatest saint in the\nworld? It is not he who _prays_ most, or _fasts_ most; it is not he\nwho gives most _alms_, or is most eminent for temperance, chastity,\nor justice; but it is he who is _always thankful_ to God, who _wills_\nevery thing that God _willeth_, who receives every thing as an\ninstance of God\u2019s goodness, and has a heart always ready to praise God\nfor it.\n\nAll prayer and devotion, fastings and repentance, meditation and\nretirement, all sacraments and ordinances, are but so many means to\nrender the soul thus conformable to the will of God, and to fill it\nwith thankfulness and praise for every thing that comes from God. This\nis the perfection of all virtues; and all virtues that do not tend to\nit, or proceed from it, are but so many false ornaments of a soul not\nconverted unto God.\n\n\n23. If any one would tell you the shortest, surest way to all\nhappiness, he must tell you to _thank and praise God for every thing\nthat happens to you_. For whatever seeming calamity happens, if you\nthank and praise God for it, you turn it into a blessing. Could you\ntherefore work miracles, you could not do more for yourself, than by\nthis _thankful spirit_; for it _heals_ with a word speaking, and turns\nall that it touches into happiness.\n\nIf therefore you would be so true to your interest, as to propose\nthis _thankfulness_ as the end of all your religion; if you would but\nsettle it in your mind, that this was the state that you was to aim at\nby all your devotions, you would then have something plain and visible\nto walk by, and might judge of your improvement in piety. For so far\nas you renounce all motions of your own will, and seek for no other\nhappiness, but in the thankful reception of every thing that happens\nto you, so far you have advanced in piety.\n\nAnd altho\u2019 this be the highest temper that you can aim at; yet it is\nnot tied to any _time_, or _place_, or _great_ occasion, but is always\nin your power, and may be the exercise of every day. For the _common\nevents_ of every day are sufficient to discover and exercise this\ntemper, and may plainly shew you how far you are governed in all your\nactions by this thankful spirit.\n\n\n24. It may perhaps be objected, that tho\u2019 the benefit of this practice\nis apparent; yet it seems not so fit for _private_ devotions, since it\ncan hardly be performed without making our devotions public.\n\nIt is answered, _first_, that great numbers of people have it in their\npower to be as private as they please; such persons therefore are\nexcluded from this excuse.\n\n_Secondly_, Numbers of people are by the _necessity_ of their state,\nas _servants_, _apprentices_, _prisoners_, and _families_ in small\nhouses, forced to be continually in the presence of somebody or other.\n\nNow are such persons to neglect their prayers, because they cannot\npray without being seen? Are they not rather obliged to be more exact\nin them, that others may not be witnesses of their neglect, and so\ncorrupted by their example?\n\nAnd what is here said of devotion, may surely be said of _singing a\npsalm_.\n\nThe rule is this: Don\u2019t pray that you _may be seen_ of men; but if\nyour _confinement_ obliges you to be always in the sight of others,\nbe more afraid of being seen to _neglect_, than of being seen to have\n_recourse_ to prayer.\n\n_Thirdly_, Either people can use such privacy in this practice, as\nto have no hearers, or they cannot. If they can, then this objection\nvanishes as to them; and if they cannot, they should consider\ntheir _confinement_, and the _necessities_ of their state, as the\nconfinement of a _prison_; and then have an excellent _pattern_ to\nfollow: they may imitate St. _Paul_ and _Silas_, who _sang praises to\nGod in prison_, tho\u2019 we are expresly told, that the _prisoners heard\nthem_. They did not refrain this kind of devotion, for fear of being\nheard by others. If therefore any one is in the same necessity, either\nin _prison_ or out of prison, what can he do better, than to follow\nthis example?\n\n_Fourthly_, The _privacy_ of our prayers is not _destroyed_ by our\n_having_, but by our _seeking_ witnesses of them.\n\nIf therefore nobody hears you but those you cannot separate yourself\nfrom, you are as much in _secret_, and _your Father who seeth in\nsecret_, will as truly reward your secrecy, as if you was seen by him\nalone.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n _Recommending devotions at nine o\u2019clock in the morning, called\n in scripture, the |third hour| of the day. The subject of\n these prayers may be |humility|._\n\n\nI AM now come to another hour of prayer, which in scripture is called\nthe _third hour_ of the day; but according to our way of numbering the\nhours, it is called the ninth hour of the morning.\n\nBut if the practice of the saints in all ages, if the customs of the\npious _Jews_ and primitive Christians be of any force with us, we have\nauthority enough to persuade us, to make this hour a constant season\nof devotion.\n\nI have in the last chapter laid before you the excellency of _praise_\nand _thanksgiving_, and recommended that as the subject of your first\ndevotions in the morning.\n\nAnd because humility is the _life_ and _soul_ of piety, the _ground_\nand _security_ of all holy affections, this may be the subject of your\ndevotions at this _hour_.\n\nThis virtue is so essential to the _right state_ of our souls, that\nthere is no pretending to a _reasonable_ or _pious_ life without it.\nWe may as well think to see without _eyes_, or live without _breath_,\nas to live in the spirit of religion, without the spirit of _humility_.\n\nBut altho\u2019 it is the _soul_ and _essence_ of all religious duties;\nyet is it, generally speaking, the least _understood_, the least\n_regarded_, the least _intended_, the least _desired_, and _sought_\nafter, of all other virtues.\n\n*No people have more occasion to be afraid of the approaches of pride,\nthan those who have made _some advances_ in a pious life. For pride\ncan grow as well upon our _virtues_ as our _vices_, and steal upon us\non all occasions.\n\nEvery good thought we have, every good action we do, lays us open to\npride.\n\n*It is not only the beauty of our persons, the gifts of fortune,\nour natural talents, and the distinctions of life; but even our\n_devotions_ and _alms_, our _fastings_ and _humiliations_, expose\nus to fresh temptations of this evil spirit.\n\nAnd it is for this reason, I so earnestly advise every _devout_ person\nto the exercise of humility, that he may not fall a sacrifice to\nhis own progress in those virtues, which are to save mankind from\ndestruction.\n\nAs all virtue is founded in truth; so humility is a _true_ sense of\nour _weakness_, _misery_, and _sin_.\n\n*The _weakness_ of our state appears from our inability to do any\nthing of ourselves. In our natural state we are entirely without _any\npower_; we are indeed active beings, but can only act by a power, that\nis every _moment_ lent us from God.\n\nWe have no more power of our own to move a _hand_, or stir a _foot_,\nthan to move the _sun_, or stop the _clouds_.\n\n*When we _speak_ a word, we feel no more power in ourselves to do it,\nthan we feel ourselves able to raise the _dead_. For we act no more\nwithin our _own power_, or by our own strength, when we _speak_ a word,\nor make a _sound_, than the _apostles_ acted within their own power,\nor by their own strength, when a _word_ from their mouth cast out\n_devils_, and cured _diseases_.\n\nAs it was solely the power of God that enabled them to speak to _such\npurposes_, so it is solely the power of God that enables us to speak\n_at all_.\n\nThis is the dependent, helpless poverty of our state, which is a great\nreason for humility. For since we neither are, nor can do any thing of\nourselves; to be proud of any thing that we are, or of any thing that\nwe can do, and to ascribe glory to ourselves for these things, has the\nguilt both of _stealing_ and _lying_. It has the guilt of stealing,\nas it gives to ourselves those things which only belong to God. It\nhas the guilt of lying, as it is denying the truth of our state, and\npretending to be something that we are not.\n\n\n\u26663. The misery of our condition appears in this, that we use these\n_borrowed_ powers of our nature, to the _torment_ and _vexation_ of\nourselves, and our fellow creatures.\n\n \u2666 Numbers 1. and 2. omitted in text.\n\n*God has entrusted us with reason, and we use it to the disorder and\ncorruption of our nature. We reason ourselves into all kinds of folly\nand misery, and make our lives the sport of foolish and extravagant\npassions: seeking after imaginary happiness in all kinds, creating to\nourselves a thousand wants, amusing our hearts with false hopes and\nfears, using the world worse than irrational animals, envying, vexing,\nand tormenting one another with restless passions, and unreasonable\ncontentions.\n\nLet any man but look back upon his own life, and see what use he has\nmade of his reason. What foolish _passions_, what vain _thoughts_,\nwhat needless _labours_, what extravagant _projects_, have taken up\nthe greatest part of his life: how foolish he has been in his _words_\nand _conversation_; how seldom he has been able to _please_ himself,\nand how often he has _displeased_ others; how often he has changed his\ncounsels, hated what he loved, and loved what he hated; how often he\nhas been enraged and transported at _trifles_, pleased and displeased\nwith the very _same things_, and constantly changing from one vanity\nto another. Let a man but take this view of his own life, and he will\nsee cause enough to confess, _that pride was not made for man_.\n\n*Let him but consider, that if the world knew all that of him, which\nhe knows of himself; if they saw what _vanity_ and _passions_ govern\nhis inside, and what secret _tempers_ sully and corrupt his best\nactions, he would have no more pretence to be honoured and admired for\nhis _goodness_ and _wisdom_, than a _rotten_ and _distempered_ body to\nbe loved and admired for its _health_ and _comeliness_.\n\n\n4. This is so true, and so known to the hearts of almost all people,\nthat nothing would appear more dreadful to them, than to have their\nhearts thus fully discovered to the eyes of all beholders.\n\nAnd perhaps there are very few people in the world, who would not\nrather chuse to die, than to have all their _secret_ follies, the\nvanity of their minds, the frequency of their _vain_ and disorderly\n_passions_, their _uneasiness_, _hatreds_, _envies_, and _vexations_,\nmade known unto the world.\n\nAnd shall pride be entertained in a heart thus _conscious_ of its own\n_miserable behaviour_?\n\n*Shall a creature in such a condition, that he could not support\nhimself under the shame of being known to the world in his _real\nstate_; shall such a creature, because his shame is only known to\nGod, to holy angels, and his own conscience; shall he, in the sight\nof God and holy angels, dare to be _vain_ and _proud_ of himself?\n\n\n5. If to this we add the _shame_ and _guilt_ of sin, we shall find\nstill a greater reason for humility.\n\nNo creature that had lived in innocence, would have thereby got any\npretence for pride; because, as a creature, all that it _is_, or _has_,\nor _does_, is from God, and therefore the honour of all that belongs\nto it is only due to God.\n\nBut if a creature that is a _sinner_, deserving nothing but pains and\npunishments for the _shameful_ abuse of his powers; if such a creature\npretends to glory for any thing that he is, or does, he can only be\nsaid to glory in his shame.\n\nNow, how _monstrous_ and _shameful_ the nature of sin is, is\nsufficiently apparent from that _great atonement_ that is necessary\nto cleanse us from the guilt of it.\n\nNothing less has been required to take away the guilt of our sins,\nthan the sufferings and death of the Son of God. Had he not taken our\nnature upon him, our nature had been for ever separated from God, and\nincapable of ever appearing before him.\n\nAnd is there any room for _pride_, whilst we are partakers of _such a\nnature_ as this?\n\n*Have our sins rendered us so abominable \u2666to him that made us, that he\ncould not so much as _receive_ our prayers, or _admit_ our repentance,\ntill the Son of God made himself man, and became a suffering advocate\nfor our whole race; and can we, in _this state_, pretend to high\nthoughts of ourselves? Shall we presume to take delight in our _own\nworth_, who are not worthy so much as to _ask pardon_ for our sins,\nwithout the mediation and intercession of the Son of God?\n\n \u2666 duplicate word removed \u2018to\u2019\n\nThus deep is the foundation of humility laid, in these deplorable\ncircumstances of our condition; which shew, that it is as great an\noffence against truth for a man, to lay claim to any degrees of glory,\nas to pretend to the honour of creating himself. If man will boast\nof any thing as his own, he must boast of his _misery_ and _sin_; for\nthere is nothing else but this, that is his own property.\n\n\n6. Turn your eyes towards heaven, and fancy that you saw what is doing\nthere; that you saw _cherubim_ and _seraphim_, and all the glorious\n_inhabitants_ of that place, all united in one work; not seeking\n_glory_ from one another, not labouring their own _advancement_, not\ncontemplating their own _perfections_, not singing their own _praises_,\nnot valuing _themselves_, and despising _others_, but all employed\nin one and the same work, all happy in one and the same joy; _casting\ndown their crowns before the throne of God, giving glory, and honour,\nand power to him alone_. Rev. iv. 10, 11.\n\nThen turn your eyes to the _fallen world_, and consider how\nunreasonable and odious it must be, for such poor _worms_, such\nmiserable _sinners_, to take delight in their own _fancied glories_,\nwhilst the highest and most glorious sons of heaven seek for no other\ngreatness and honour, but that of ascribing all honour and greatness,\nand glory to God alone?\n\n*Pride is only the disorder of the _fallen world_, it has no place\namongst other beings; it can only subsist where _ignorance_ and\n_sensuality_, _lies_ and _falshood_, _lusts_ and _impurity_ reign.\n\nLet a man, when he is most delighted with his own _figure_,\ncontemplate our blessed Lord _stretched_ out, and _nailed_ upon a\n_cross_: and then let him consider how absurd it must be, for a heart\nfull of _pride_ and _vanity_, to pray to God, through the sufferings\nof a _crucified_ Saviour?\n\nThese are the reflections you are often to meditate upon, that you may\nwalk before God in such a spirit of humility, as becomes the _meak_,\n_miserable_, and _sinful_ state of all that are descended from fallen\n_Adam_.\n\n\n7. But you must not content yourself with this, as if you was\ntherefore humble, because you acknowledge the reasonableness of\nhumility, and declare against pride.\n\nYou would not imagine yourself to be devout, because in your judgment\nyou approved of prayers, and often declared your mind in favour of\ndevotion. Yet how many people imagine themselves humble enough, for\nno other reason, but because they often commend humility, and make\nvehement declarations against pride?\n\n_C\u00e6cus_ is a rich man, of good birth, and very fine parts; is very\nfull of every thing that he says or does, and never imagines it\npossible for such a judgment as his to be mistaken. He can bear no\ncontradiction, and discovers the weakness of your understanding, as\nsoon as ever you oppose him. _C\u00e6cus_ would have been very religious,\nbut that he always thought he was so.\n\nThere is nothing so odious to _C\u00e6cus_ as a proud man; and the\nmisfortune is, that in this he is so very quicksighted, that he\ndiscovers in almost everybody, some _strokes_ of vanity.\n\nOn the other hand, he is exceeding fond of humble and modest persons.\nHumility, says he, is so amiable a quality, that it forces our esteem\nwherever we meet with it. There is no possibility of despising the\n_meanest_ person that has it, or of esteeming the _greatest_ man that\nwants it.\n\n_C\u00e6cus_ no more suspects himself to be proud, than he suspects his\nwant of sense. And the reason of it is, because he always finds\nhimself so in love with humility, and so enraged at pride.\n\nIt is very true, _C\u00e6cus_, you speak _sincerely_ when you say you\nlove humility, and abhor pride. You are no _hypocrite_, you speak the\n_true_ sentiments of your mind; but then take this along with you, you\nonly love humility, and hate pride, in _other people_. You never once\nin your life thought of any other humility, or of any other pride,\nthan that which you have seen in _other people_.\n\n\n8. The case of _C\u00e6cus_ is a common case: many people live in all the\ninstances of pride, and yet never suspect themselves, because they\ndislike proud people, and are pleased with humility and modesty,\nwherever they find them.\n\nAll their speeches in favour of humility, and all their railings\nagainst pride, are looked upon as effects of their own humble spirit.\n\nWhereas in truth, these are so far from being proofs of humility, that\nthey are great arguments of the want of it.\n\n*For the fuller of pride any one is himself, the more impatient will\nhe be at the smallest instances of it in other people. And the less\nhumility any one has in his own mind, the more will he demand it in\nother people.\n\n*You must therefore act by a quite contrary measure, and reckon\nyourself only so far humble, as you impose _every instance_ of\nhumility upon yourself, and _never_ call for it in other people. So\nfar an enemy to pride, as you never _spare_ it in yourself, nor ever\n_censure_ it in other persons.\n\nThe loving humility is of no benefit to you, but so far as all your\nown thoughts, words, and actions are governed by it. And the hating of\npride does you no good, but so far as you hate to harbour any degree\nof it in your own heart.\n\nNow in order to set out in the practice of humility, you must take it\nfor granted, that you are _proud_, that you have been so all your life.\n\nYou should believe also, that it is your _greatest_ weakness, that\nyour heart is most _subject_ to it; that it is so _constantly_\nstealing upon you, you have reason to suspect its approaches in all\nyour actions.\n\nFor there is no one vice that is more deeply rooted in our nature, or\nthat receives such constant nourishment from almost every thing that\nwe think or do; there being hardly any thing in the world that we\n_want_ or _use_, or any _action_ or _duty_ of life, but pride finds\nsome means or other to take hold of it. So that at what time soever we\nbegin to offer ourselves to God, we can hardly be surer of any thing,\nthan that we have a great deal of pride to repent of.\n\nIf therefore you find it disagreeable to entertain this opinion of\nyourself, and that you cannot put yourself amongst those that want to\nbe cured of pride, you may be as sure, as if an _angel_ from heaven\nhad told you, that you have not only much, but all your humility to\nseek.\n\n*For you can have no greater sign of a confirmed pride, than when you\nthink that you are humble enough. He that thinks he loves God enough,\nshews himself to be an entire stranger to that holy passion; so he\nthat thinks he has humility enough, shews that he is not so much as\na beginner in the practice of true humility.\n\n\n9. Every person, therefore, when he first applies himself to the\nexercise of humility, must consider himself as a _learner_, who is, to\nlearn something that is contrary to all his former tempers and habits\nof mind.\n\nHe has not only much to learn; but he has also a great deal to\n_unlearn_: he is to forget, and lay aside his own spirit, which has\nbeen a long while fixing and forming itself; he must forget and depart\nfrom abundance of passions and opinions, which the _fashion_, and\n_vogue_, and spirit of the world, have made natural to him.\n\nHe must lay aside the opinions and passions which he has received from\nthe world; because the vogue and fashion of the world, by which we\nhave been carried away, as in a _torrent_, before we could pass right\njudgments of the value of things, is utterly contrary to _humility_.\n\nThe devil is called, in scripture, the prince of this world; because\nhe has great power in it, because many of its rules and principles are\ninvented by this evil spirit, to separate us from God, and prevent our\nreturn to happiness.\n\nNow, according to the _spirit_ of this world, whose corrupt air we\nhave all breathed, there are many things that pass for _great_, and\n_honourable_, and _desirable_, which yet are so far from being so,\nthat the _true greatness_ and honour of our nature consists in the not\ndesiring them.\n\nTo abound in wealth, to have fine houses and rich cloaths, to be\nattended with splendour and equipage, to be beautiful in our persons,\nto have titles of dignity, to be above our fellow creatures, to\ncommand the bows and obeisance of other people, to be looked on with\nadmiration, to subdue all that oppose us, to set out ourselves in as\nmuch splendour as we can, to live highly and magnificently, to eat\nand drink, and delight ourselves in the most costly manner, these are\nthe _great_, the _honourable_, the _desirable_ things, to which the\n_spirit_ of the world turns the eyes of all people. And many a man is\nafraid of not engaging in the pursuit of them, lest the world should\ntake him for a _fool_.\n\n\n10. The history of the gospel, is chiefly the history of Christ\u2019s\n_conquest_ over this _spirit_ of the world. And the number of true\nChristians, is only the number of those who, following the _Spirit_\nof Christ, have lived _contrary_ to the spirit of the world.\n\n_If any man hath not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his._ Again,\n_Whosoever is born of God, overcometh the world. Set your affections\non things above, and not on things of the earth; for ye are dead,\nand your life is hid with Christ in God._ This is the language of the\nwhole New Testament. This is the _mark_ of Christianity; you are to be\n_dead_, that is, dead to the _spirit_ and _temper_ of the world, and\nlive a new life in the _Spirit_ of Jesus Christ.\n\nBut notwithstanding the plainness of these doctrines, most Christians\nlive and die slaves to the _customs_ and _tempers_ of the world.\n\nHow many people swell with _pride_ and _vanity_, for such things\nas they would not value at all, but that they are admired in the\nworld?\n\nWould a man take _ten years_ more drudgery in business, to add _two\nhorses_ more to his coach, but that he knows that the world admires a\n_coach_ and _six_? How fearful are many people of having their houses\npoorly furnished, or themselves meanly cloathed, for this only reason,\nlest the world should place them amongst _low_ and _mean_ people?\n\nMany a man would drop a _resentment_, and forgive an _affront_, but\nthat he is afraid, if he should, the world would not forgive him.\n\nHow many would practise Christian _temperance_ and sobriety, were it\nnot for the censure which the world passes upon such a life?\n\nOthers have frequent intentions of living up to the _rules_ of\nChristian perfection; but they are frighted, by considering what the\nworld would say of them?\n\n\n11. Thus they dare not attempt to be _eminent_ in the sight of God,\nfor fear of being little in the eyes of the world.\n\nFrom this quarter arises the greatest difficulty of humility, because\nit cannot subsist in any mind, but so far as it is dead to the world.\n\nYou can make no _stand_ against the assaults of pride, humility can\nhave no place in your soul, \u2019till you stop the power of the world over\nyou, and resolve against a _blind obedience_ to its laws.\n\nFor indeed, as great as the power of the world is, it is all built\nupon a _blind obedience_.\n\nAsk who you will, _learned_ or _unlearned_, every one seems to know\nand confess, that the general temper and spirit of the world, is\nnothing else but _humour_, _folly_, and _extravagance_.\n\nWho will not own, that the wisdom of _philosophy_, the piety of\n_religion_, was always confined to a small number? And is not this\nexpresly owning, that the _common spirit_ and _temper_ of the world,\nis neither according to the wisdom of _philosophy_, nor the piety of\n_religion_?\n\nTherefore you should not think it a _hard saying_, that in order to be\n_humble_, you must withdraw your obedience from that _vulgar spirit_\nwhich gives laws to _fops_ and _coquets_, and form your judgments\naccording to the wisdom of _philosophy_, and the piety of _religion_.\n\n\n12. *Again, to lessen your regard to the opinion of the world, think\nhow soon the world will disregard you, and have no more thought or\nconcern about you, than about the _poorest animal_ that died in a\n_ditch_.\n\n*Your friends, if they can, may bury you with some distinction, and\nset up a monument to let posterity see that your _dust_ lies under\nsuch a _stone_; and when that is done, all is done. Your place is\nfilled up by another; the world is just in the same state it was; you\nare blotted out of its sight, and as much forgotten by the world as if\nyou had never belonged to it.\n\n*Think upon the _rich_, the _great_, and the _learned_ persons, that\nhave made great figures, and been high in the esteem of the world;\nmany of them died in your time, and yet they are sunk, and lost, and\ngone, and as much disregarded by the world, as if they had been only\nso many _bubbles of water_.\n\nThink again, how many poor souls see heaven lost, and lie now\nexpecting a miserable eternity, for their homage to a world, that\nthinks itself every whit as well without them, and is just as merry\nas it was when they were in it.\n\nIs it therefore worth your while to lose the _smallest degree_ of\nvirtue, for the sake of pleasing so _bad a master_, and so _false a\nfriend_ as the world is?\n\nIs it worth your while to bow the knee to such an _idol_ as this, that\nso soon will have neither _eyes_, nor _ears_, nor a _heart_ to regard\nyou, instead of serving that great, and holy, and mighty God, that\nwill make all his servants partakers of his own eternity?\n\nWill you let the fear of a false world, that has no love for you, keep\nyou from the fear of that God, who has only created you, that he may\nlove and bless you to all eternity?\n\n\n13. Consider our blessed Lord\u2019s words, _They are not of this world,\nas I am not of this world_. This is the state of Christianity, with\nregard to this world. If you are not thus out of, and contrary to the\nworld, you want the distinguishing mark of Christianity; you don\u2019t\nbelong to Christ, but by being out of the world as he was out of it.\n\nWe may deceive ourselves, if we please, with softening comments\nupon these words; but they are and will be understood in their first\nsimplicity and plainness, by every one that reads them in the same\nspirit that our blessed Lord spoke them. And to understand them in any\nlower meaning, is to let carnal wisdom explain away that doctrine, by\nwhich itself was to be destroyed.\n\nChristianity has placed us out of, and above the world; and we fall\nfrom our calling, as soon as we fall into the tempers of the world.\n\nNow as it was the spirit of the world that nailed our blessed Lord to\nthe cross; so every man that has the Spirit of Christ, that opposes\nthe world as he did, will certainly be crucified by the world some way\nor other.\n\nFor Christianity still lives in the same world that Christ did; and\nthese two will be utter enemies, till the kingdom of darkness is\nentirely at an end.\n\nHad you lived with our Saviour as his true disciple, you had then been\nhated as he was; and if you now live in his Spirit, the world will be\nthe same enemy to you now, that it was to him then.\n\n\n14. _If ye were of the world_, saith our blessed Lord, _the world\nwould love its own; but because ye are not of the world, but I have\nchosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you_. John\nxv. 19.\n\nWe are apt to lose the true meaning of these words, by considering\nthem only as an _historical description_ of something that was the\nstate of our Saviour and his disciples at that time. But this is\nreading the scripture as a _dead letter_: for they as exactly describe\nthe state of true Christians at this, and all other times, to the end\nof the world.\n\nFor as _true Christianity_ is nothing else but the Spirit of Christ;\nso whether that Spirit appear in the person of Christ himself, or his\napostles, or followers in any age, it is the same thing; whoever hath\nhis Spirit, will be hated, despised, and condemned by the world, as he\nwas.\n\nFor the world will always love its own, and none but its own: this is\nas certain and unchangeable, as the contrariety betwixt _light_ and\n_darkness_.\n\n\n15. You will perhaps say, that the world is now become Christian, at\nleast that part of it where we live; and therefore the world is not\nnow to be considered in that state of opposition to Christianity, as\nwhen it was _Heathen_.\n\n*It is granted, the world now professeth Christianity. But will any\none say, that this Christian world is of the Spirit of Christ? Are its\ngeneral tempers the tempers of Christ? Are the passions of sensuality,\nself-love, pride, covetousness, ambition, and vain-glory, less\ncontrary to the spirit of the gospel, now they are among Christians,\nthan when they were among Heathens? Or, will you say, that the tempers\nand passions of the Heathen world are lost and gone?\n\n\n16. And indeed the world, by professing Christianity, is so far\nfrom being a less dangerous enemy than it was before, that it has by\nits favours destroyed more Christians, than ever it did by the most\nviolent persecution.\n\nWe must therefore be so far from considering the world as in a state\nof less enmity and opposition to Christianity, than it was in the\nfirst times of the gospel, that we must guard against it as a more\ndangerous enemy now, than it was in those times.\n\nIt is a greater enemy, because it has greater power over Christians by\nits favours, riches, honours, rewards, and protections, than it had by\nthe fire and fury of its persecutions.\n\nIt is a more dangerous enemy, by having lost its appearance of enmity.\nIts outward profession of Christianity makes it no longer considered\nas an enemy; and therefore the generality of people are easily\npersuaded to resign themselves up to be governed and directed by it.\n\nHow many consciences are kept at quiet, upon no other foundation, but\nbecause they sin under the authority of the Christian world?\n\nHow many directions of the gospel lye by unregarded? And how\nunconcernedly do particular persons read them, for no other reason,\nbut because they seem unregarded by the Christian world?\n\nHow many compliances do people make to the Christian world, without\nany hesitation, or remorse; which, if they had been required of them\nonly by Heathens, would have been refused, as contrary to the holiness\nof Christianity?\n\nWho could be content with seeing how contrary his life is to the\n_gospel_, but because he sees that he lives as the Christian world\ndoth?\n\n\n17. There is nothing therefore, that a Christian ought more constantly\nto guard against, than the authority of the _Christian world_.\n\nAnd all the passages of scripture, which represent the world as\ncontrary to Christianity, which require our separation from it, as\nfrom a monster of iniquity, are to be taken in the _strict sense_,\nin relation to the present world.\n\nFor the change that the world has undergone, has only altered its\nmethods, but not lessened its power of destroying religion.\n\nWhilst _pride_, _sensuality_, _covetousness_, and _ambition_, had only\nthe authority of the _Heathen world_, Christians were thereby made\nmore intent upon the contrary virtues. But when pride, sensuality,\ncovetousness and ambition, have the authority of the Christian world,\nthen private Christians are in the utmost danger, not only of being\nshamed out of the practice, but of losing the very notion of the piety\nof the gospel.\n\nThere is therefore hardly any possibility of saving yourself from the\npresent world, but by considering it as the same _enemy_ to all true\nholiness, as it is represented in the scriptures; and by assuring\nyourself, that it is as dangerous to conform to its _tempers_ and\n_passions_, now it is Christian, as when it was Heathen.\n\nNeed a man do more to make his soul unfit for the mercy of God, than\nby being _greedy_ and _ambitious_ of honour? Yet how can you renounce\nthis temper, without renouncing the spirit and temper of the world, in\nwhich you now live?\n\nHow can a man be made more incapable of the Spirit of Christ, than\nby a _wrong value_ for money; and yet how can he be more wrong in his\nvalue of it, than by following the authority of the Christian world?\n\n*Nay, in every _order_ and _station_ of life, whether of _learning_\nor _business_, either in church or state, you cannot act up to the\nspirit of religion, without renouncing the most _general temper_\nand _behaviour_ of those, who are of the same order and business as\nyourself.\n\n*And though _human prudence_ seems to talk mighty wisely about the\nnecessity of avoiding _particularities_, yet he that dares not be so\n_weak_ as to be particular, will be obliged to avoid the most\nsubstantial duties of Christian piety.\n\nThese reflections, will, I hope, help you to break through those\ndifficulties, and resist those temptations, which the authority and\nfashion of the world hath raised against the practice of _Christian\nhumility_.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n _Shewing how the education which men generally receive, makes\n the doctrines of humility difficult to be practised. The\n spirit of a better education represented in the character\n of |Paternus|._\n\n\n1. ANOTHER difficulty in the practice of humility, arises from our\neducation. We are corruptly educated, and then committed to take our\ncourse in a corrupt world; so that it is no wonder, if examples of\ngreat piety are so seldom seen.\n\nGreat part of the world are undone, by being born and bred in families\nthat have no religion.\n\nBut this is not the thing I now mean; the education that I here intend,\nis such as children generally receive from virtuous _parents_, and\nlearned _tutors_ and governors.\n\n*Had we continued perfect, as God created the first man, perhaps the\nperfection of our nature had been a sufficient _self-instruction_ for\nevery one. But as _sickness_ and _diseases_ have created the necessity\nof _medicines_ and _physicians_, so the disorder of our rational\nnature has introduced the necessity of _education_ and _tutors_.\n\n*And as the only end of the physician is, to restore nature to its\nown state; so the only end of education is, to restore our rational\nnature to its proper state. Education therefore is to be considered\nas _reason_ borrowed at _second hand_, which is, as far as it can,\nto supply the loss of _original_ perfection. And as physic may justly\nbe called the _art_ of restoring health, so education should be\nconsidered in no other light, than as the art of recovering to man\nthe use of his reason.\n\n\n2. Now as the instruction of every _art_ or _science_ is founded upon\nthe _wisdom_, _experience_, and _maxims_ of the several great men that\nhave laboured in it; so that _right use_ of our reason, which young\npeople should be called to by their education, is nothing but the\n_best experience_, and _finest reasonings_ of men, that have devoted\nthemselves to the improvement of human nature.\n\nAll therefore that _great saints_ and _dying_ men, when the fullest\nlight and conviction, and after the highest improvement of their\nreason, have said of the necessity of _piety_, of the excellency of\n_virtue_, of the emptiness of _riches_, of the vanity of the _world_;\nall the _sentences_, _judgments_, _reasonings_ and _maxims_ of the\nwisest philosophers, when in their highest state of wisdom, should\nconstitute the _common lessons_ of instruction for youthful minds.\n\nThis is the only way to make the _young_ and _ignorant_ part of the\nworld the better for the _wisdom_ and _knowledge_ of the wise and\nancient.\n\n\n3. *The youths that attended upon _Pythagoras_, _Socrates_, _Plato_,\nand _Epictetus_, were thus educated. Their every day lessons and\ninstructions were so many lectures upon the nature of man, his true\n_end_, and the right use of his faculties; upon the immortality of the\nsoul, its relation to God, the beauty of virtue, and its agreeableness\nto the divine nature; upon the necessity of temperance, fortitude, and\ngenerosity, and the shame and folly of indulging our passions.\n\n*Now as Christianity has, as it were, new-created the _moral_ and\n_religious_ world, and set every thing that is reasonable, wise,\nholy and desirable, in its true point of light: so one would expect,\nthat the education of youth should be as much bettered and amended by\nChristianity, as the _doctrines_ of religion are amended by it.\n\n*As it has introduced a _new_ state of things, and so fully informed\nus of the _nature_ of man, and the _end_ of his creation; as it has\nfixed all our _goods_ and _evils_, taught us the means of purifying\nour souls, pleasing God, and becoming eternally happy; one might\nnaturally suppose, that every Christian country abounded with\n_schools_, not only for teaching a few questions and answers of a\n_catechism_, but for the forming, training and practising youths in\nsuch a course of life, as the _highest_ precepts, the _strictest_\nrules, and the _sublimest_ doctrines of Christianity require.\n\n\n4. *An education under _Pythagoras_, or _Socrates_, had no other end,\nbut to teach youth to _think_, _judge_, and _act_ as _Pythagoras_ and\n_Socrates_ used.\n\nAnd is it not as reasonable to suppose, that a Christian education\nshould have no other end, but to teach youth how to think, and judge,\nand act according to the _strictest laws_ of Christianity?\n\nAt least one would suppose, that in all Christian schools, the\nteaching youth to begin their lives in the _spirit_ of Christianity,\nin such _severity_ of behaviour, such _abstinence_, _sobriety_,\n_humility_, and _devotion_, as Christianity requires, should not only\nbe _more_, but an _hundred times_ more regarded, than any, or all\nthings else.\n\nFor our educators should imitate our _guardian angels_, suggest\nnothing to our minds but what is _wise_ and _holy_; help us to\ndiscover and subdue every _vain passion_ of our hearts, and every\n_false judgment_ of our minds.\n\nAnd it is as reasonable to expect and require all this benefit of a\nChristian education, as to require that physic should strengthen all\nthat is right in our nature, and remove that which is _sickly_ and\n_diseased_.\n\n\n5. But alas, our modern education is not of this kind.\n\n*The _first temper_ that we try to awaken in children, is _pride_;\nas dangerous a passion as that of _lust_. We stir them up to vain\nthoughts of themselves, and do every thing we can, to puff up their\nminds with a sense of their own abilities.\n\n*Whatever way of life we intend them for, we apply to the _fire_ and\n_vanity_ of their minds, and exhort them to every thing from corrupt\nmotives: we stir them up to action from principles of _strife_ and\n_ambition_, from _glory_, _envy_, and a desire of distinction, that\nthey may excel others, and shine in the eyes of the world.\n\nAnd when we have taught them to scorn to be outdone by any, to bear no\n_rival_, to thirst after _every instance_ of applause, to be content\nwith nothing but the highest distinctions; then we begin to take\ncomfort in them, and promise the world some mighty things from youths\nof such a glorious spirit.\n\nIf children are intended for _holy orders_, we set before them some\neminent _oratory_ whose _fine_ preaching has made him the _admiration_\nof the age, and carried him through all the _dignities_ and\n_preferments_ of the church.\n\nWe encourage them to have these _honours_ in their eye, and to expect\nthe reward of their studies from them.\n\nIf the youth is intended for a _trade_, we bid him look at the rich\nmen in the _same trade_, and consider how many now are carried in\ntheir _stately coaches_, who began in the same low degree as he now\ndoes. We awaken his ambition, and endeavour to give his mind a _right\nturn_, by often telling him how rich such and such a tradesman died.\n\nIf he is to be a lawyer, then we set great _counsellors_, _lords_,\n_judges_, and _chancellors_, before his eyes. We tell him what great\nfees, and great _applause_ attend fine pleading. We exhort him to take\nfire at these things to raise a spirit of emulation in himself, and to\nbe content with nothing less than the highest honours of the _long\nrobe_.\n\n\n6. That this is the nature of our _best education_, is too plain to\nneed any proof; and I believe there are few parents, but would be glad\nto see these instructions daily given to their children.\n\nAnd after all this, we complain of the effects of pride; we wonder\nto see _grown men_ acted and governed by _ambition_, _envy_, _scorn_,\nand a desire of glory; not considering that they were all the time of\ntheir youth called upon to form all their action and industry upon the\nsame principles.\n\nYou teach a child to _scorn_ to be outdone, to thirst for\n_distinction_ and _applause_; and is it any wonder that he continues\nto act all his life in the same manner?\n\n*Now if a youth is ever to be so far a Christian, as to govern his\nheart by the _doctrines_ of humility, I would fain know at _what time_\nhe is to begin it; or, if he is _ever_ to begin it at all, why we\ntrain him up in tempers quite contrary to it?\n\nHow _dry_ and _poor_ must the doctrine of humility sound to a youth,\nthat has been spurred up to all his industry by _ambition_, _envy_,\n_emulation_, and a desire of _glory_ and _distinction_? And if he is\nnot to act by these _principles_ when he is a _man_, why do we call\nhim to act by them in his _youth_?\n\n_Envy_ is acknowledged by all people to be the most _ungenerous_,\n_base_ and _wicked_ passion, that can enter into the heart of man.\n\nAnd is this the temper to be instilled, nourished and established in\nthe minds of young people?\n\n\n7. I know it is said, that it is not _envy_, but _emulation_, that is\nintended to be awakened in the minds of young men.\n\n*But this is vainly said. For when children are taught to bear no\n_rival_, and to _scorn_ to be outdone by any of their age, they are\nplainly and directly taught to be _envious_. For it is impossible\nfor any one to have this _scorn_ to be outdone, this contention with\n_rivals_, without burning with _envy_ against all those that seem to\nexcel him, or get any distinction from him. So that what children are\ntaught, is _rank envy_, and only covered with a name of a less odious\nsound.\n\n*_Secondly_, If _envy_ is thus confessedly bad, and it be only\n_emulation_ that is endeavoured to be awakened in children, surely\nthere ought to be _great_ care taken, that children may know the one\nfrom the other; that they may abominate one as a great _crime_, whilst\nthey give the other admission into their minds.\n\nBut if this were to be attempted, the _fineness_ of the distinction\nbetwixt envy and emulation, would shew that it was easier to divide\nthem in words, than to separate them in action.\n\nFor _emulation_, when it is defined in its best manner, is nothing\nelse but a _refinement_ upon envy, or rather the most _plausible part_\nof that black and venomous passion.\n\nAnd though it is easy to separate them in the _notion_, yet the most\n_acute philosopher_, that understands the art of distinguishing ever\nso well, if he gives himself up to _emulation_, will certainly find\nhimself _deep_ in _envy_.\n\n\n8. It is said also, that ambition, and a desire of glory, are\nnecessary to excite young people to industry; and that if we were to\npress upon them the doctrines of humility, we should deject the minds,\nand sink them into _dullness_ and _idleness_.\n\nBut these people who say this, don\u2019t consider, that this reason, if it\nhas any strength, is full as strong against pressing the doctrines of\nhumility upon _grown men_, lest we should deject their minds, and sink\nthem into dullness and idleness.\n\nThis reason therefore that is given, why children should not be\ntrained up in the principles of true humility, is as good a reason why\nthe same humility should never be required of grown men.\n\nAgain, let those people, who think that children would be spoiled, if\nthey were not thus educated, consider this.\n\n*Could they think, that if any children had been educated by our\nblessed Lord, or his holy apostles, their minds would have been sunk\ninto dullness and idleness?\n\n*Or could they think, that such children would not have been trained\nup in the profoundest principles of humility? Can they say that our\nblessed Lord, who was the humblest man that ever was on earth, was\nhindered by his humility from being the greatest example of worthy and\nglorious actions, that ever were done by man?\n\nCan they say that his apostles, who lived in the humble spirit\nof their Master, did therefore cease to be laborious and active\ninstruments of doing good to all the world?\n\nA few such reflections as these, are sufficient to expose all the poor\npretences for an education in pride and ambition.\n\n\n9. *_Paternus_ lived about _two hundred_ years ago; he had but one\nson, whom he educated himself in his own house. As they were sitting\ntogether in the garden, when the child was _ten years_ old, _Paternus_\nthus began to him.\n\nThe little time that you have been in the world, my child, you have\nspent wholly with me: and my love and tenderness to you, has made\nyou look upon me as your only friend and benefactor, and the cause of\nall the comfort and pleasure you enjoy: your heart, I know, would be\nready to break with grief, if you thought this was the last day that\nI should live with you.\n\nBut, my child, tho\u2019 you now think yourself mighty happy, because you\nhave hold of my hand, you are now in the hands, and under the tender\ncare of a much greater father and friend than I am, whose love to you\nis far greater than mine, and from whom you receive such blessings as\nno mortal can give.\n\nThat God whom you have seen me daily worship; whom I daily call upon\nto bless both you and me, and all mankind; whose wondrous acts are\nrecorded in those scriptures which you constantly read. That God who\ncreated the heavens and the earth; who brought a flood upon the old\nworld; who saved _Noah_ in the ark; who was the God of _Abraham_,\n_Isaac_, and _Jacob_; whom _Job_ blessed and praised in the greatest\nafflictions; who delivered the _Israelites_ out of the hands of the\n_Egyptians_; who was the protector of righteous _Joseph_, _Moses_,\n_Joshua_, and holy _Daniel_; who sent so many prophets into the world;\nwho sent his Son Jesus Christ to redeem mankind. This God, who has\ndone all these great things; who has created so many millions of men;\nwho lived and died before you was born, with whom the spirits of good\nmen that are departed this life, now live; whom infinite numbers of\nangels now worship in heaven. This great God, who is the Creator of\nworlds, of angels, and men, is your loving Father and Friend, your\ngood Creator and Nourisher, from whom, and not from me, you received\nyour being ten years ago, at the time that I planted that little,\ntender _elm_ which you there see.\n\n\n10. I myself am not half the age of this _shady oak_, under which we\nsit; many of our fathers have sat under its boughs; we have all of us\ncalled it ours in our turn, though it stands, and drops its _masters_,\nas it drops its _leaves_.\n\nYou see, my son, this wide and large _firmament_ over our heads, where\nthe _sun_ and _moon_, and all the _stars_ appear in their turns. If\nyou was to be carried up to any of these bodies at this vast distance\nfrom us, you would still discover others as much above you, as the\n_stars_ that you see here are above the _earth_. Were you to go up or\ndown, _east_ or _west_, _north_ or _south_, you would find the same\nheight without any _top_, and the same depth without any _bottom_.\n\nAnd yet, my child, so great is God, that all these bodies added\ntogether, are but as a _grain_ of sand in his sight. And yet you are\nas much the care of this great God, and Father of all _worlds_, and\nall _spirits_, as if he had no son but you, or there were no creature\nfor him to love and protect but you alone. He numbers the _hairs_ of\nyour head, watches over you sleeping and waking, and has preserved you\nfrom a thousand dangers, which neither you nor I know \u2666any thing of.\n\n \u2666 duplicate word \u2018any\u2019 removed\n\n\n11. How poor my power is, and how little I am able to do for you, you\nhave often seen. Your late _sickness_ has shewn you how little I could\ndo for you in that state; and the frequent pains of your head, are\nplain proofs, that I have no power to remove them.\n\nI can bring you _food_ and _medicines_, but have no power to turn them\ninto your relief and nourishment; it is God alone that can do this for\nyou.\n\nTherefore, my child, fear, and worship, and love God. Your eyes indeed\ncannot yet see him, but every thing you see, are so many marks of his\npower and presence, and he is nearer to you than any thing that you\ncan see.\n\nTake him for your _Lord_, and _Father_, and _Friend_; look up unto\nhim as the fountain and cause of all the good that you have received\nthrough my hands; and reverence me only as the _bearer_ and _minister_\nof God\u2019s good things unto you; and he that blessed my Father before I\nwas born, will bless you when I am dead.\n\nYour youth and little mind is only yet acquainted with my family, and\ntherefore you think there is no happiness out of it.\n\nBut, my child, you belong to a greater family than mine; you are a\nyounger member of the family of this Almighty Father of all nations,\nwho has created infinite orders of angels, and numberless generations\nof men, to be fellow-members of one and the same society in heaven.\n\n\n12. You do well to reverence my authority, because God has given me\npower over you, to bring you up in his fear, and to do for you, as the\nholy fathers recorded in scripture did for their children, who are now\nin rest and peace with God.\n\nI shall in a short time die, and leave you to God and yourself; and\nif God forgiveth my sins, I shall go to his Son Jesus Christ, and live\namongst patriarchs and prophets, saints and martyrs, where I shall\npray for you, and hope for your safe arrival at the same place.\n\nTherefore, my child, meditate on these great things, and let your\nthoughts often leave these _gardens_, these _fields_ and _farms_, to\ncontemplate God and heaven, to consider angels, and the spirits of\ngood men living in light and glory.\n\nAs you have been used to look to me in all your actions, and have been\nafraid to do any thing, unless you first knew my will; so let it now\nbe your rule to look up to God in all your actions, to do every thing\nin his fear, and to abstain from every thing that is not according to\nhis will.\n\nBear him always in your mind; teach your thoughts to reverence him in\nevery place; for there is no place where he is not.\n\n\n13. God keepeth a _book_ of life, wherein all the actions of all men\nare written; your name is there, my child; and when you die, this book\nwill be laid open before men and angels; and according as your actions\nare there found, you will either be received to the happiness of those\nholy men who have died before you, or be turned away among wicked\nspirits, that are never to see God any more.\n\nNever forget this book, my son; for it is written, it must be opened,\nyou must see it, and you must be tried by it. Strive therefore to fill\nit with your good deeds, that the hand-writing of God may not appear\nagainst you.\n\nGod, my child, is all _love_ and _wisdom_, and _goodness_; and every\nthing that he has made, and every action that he does, is the effect\nof them all. Therefore you cannot please God, but so far as you\nstrive to walk in love, wisdom and goodness. As all wisdom, love, and\ngoodness proceeds from God; so nothing but love, wisdom, and goodness\ncan lead to God.\n\nWhen you love that which God loves, you act with him, you join\nyourself to him; and when you love what he dislikes, then you oppose\nhim, and separate yourself from him. This is the true and the right\nway; think what God loves, and do you love it with all your heart.\n\n\n14. First of all, my child, worship and adore God, think of him\nmagnificently, speak of him reverently, magnify his providence, adore\nhis power, frequent his service, and pray unto him constantly.\n\nNext to this, love your neighbour, which is all mankind, with such\ntenderness and affection as you love yourself. Think how God loves\nall mankind, how merciful he is to them, how tender he is of them, how\ncarefully he preserves them, and then strive to love the world as God\nloves it.\n\nGod would have all men to be happy, therefore do you _will_ and desire\nthe same. All men are great instances of divine love, therefore let\nall men be instances of your love.\n\nBut above all, my son, mark this: never do any thing through strife,\nor envy, or emulation, or vain-glory. Never do any thing in order to\nexcel other people, but in order to please God, and because it is his\nwill, that you should do every thing in the best manner that you can.\n\nFor if it is once a pleasure to you to excel other people, it will\nby degrees be a pleasure to you, to see other people not so good as\nyourself.\n\nBanish therefore every thought of _pride_ and _distinction_,\nand accustom yourself to rejoice in all the excellencies of your\nfellow-creatures, and be as glad to see any of their good actions as\nyour own.\n\nFor as God is well pleased with their well-doings, as with yours; so\nyou ought to desire, that every thing that is wise, and holy, and good,\nmay be performed in as high a manner by other people, as by yourself.\n\n\n15. Let this therefore be your only motive to all good actions, to do\nevery thing in as perfect a manner as you can; for this only reason,\nbecause it is pleasing to God, who writes all your actions in a book.\nWhen I am dead, my son, you will be master of all my estate, which\nwill be a great deal more than the necessities of one family require.\nTherefore, as you are to be charitable to the souls of men, and wish\nthem the same happiness with you in heaven; so be charitable to their\nbodies, and endeavour to make them as happy as you upon earth.\n\nAs God has created all things for the common good of all men; so let\nthat part of them, which is fallen to your share, be employed, as God\nwould have all employed, for the common good of all.\n\nDo good, my son, first of all to those that most deserve it, but\nremember to do good to all. The greatest sinners receive daily\ninstances of God\u2019s goodness towards them; he nourishes and preserves\nthem, that they may repent, and return to him; do you therefore\nimitate God, and think no one too bad to receive your relief and\nkindness, when you see that he wants it.\n\n\n16. I am teaching you _Latin_ and _Greek_, not that you should desire\nto be a great _critic_, a fine _poet_, or an eloquent _orator_. I\nwould not have your heart feel any of these desires; for the desire of\nthese accomplishments is vanity, and the masters of them are generally\nvain men.\n\nBut I teach you these languages, that at proper times you may\nlook into the history of past ages, and learn the methods of God\u2019s\nprovidence over the world: that reading the writings \u2666of the ancient\nsages, you may see how wisdom and virtue have been the praise of great\nmen of all ages.\n\n \u2666 duplicate word removed \u2018of\u2019\n\nLet truth and plainness be the only ornament of your language, and\nstudy nothing but how to think of all things as they deserve, to chuse\nevery thing that is best, to live according to reason, and to act in\nevery part of your life in conformity to the will of God.\n\nStudy how to fill your heart full of the love of God, and the love\nof your neighbour, and then be content to be no deeper a scholar, no\nfiner a gentleman, than these tempers will make you. As true religion\nis nothing else but simple nature governed by right reason; so it\nloves and requires great plainness and simplicity of life. Therefore\navoid all superfluous shews, finery, and equipage, and let your house\nbe plainly furnished with moderate conveniences. Don\u2019t consider what\nyour estate can afford, but what right reason requires.\n\n\n17. Let your _dress_ be sober, clean, and modest; not to set out the\nbeauty of your person, but to declare the sobriety of your mind, that\nyour outward garb may resemble the plainness of your heart. For it is\nhighly reasonable, that you should be _one man_, all of a piece, and\nappear outwardly such as you are inwardly.\n\nAs to your _meat_ and _drink_, in them observe the _highest rules_\nof Christian temperance and sobriety: consider your body only as the\nservant of your soul; and only so nourish it, that it may perform an\nhumble and obedient service to it.\n\nBut, my son, observe this as a principal thing, which I shall remember\nyou of as long as I live.\n\nHate and despise all _human glory_, for it is nothing else but human\nfolly. It is the greatest _snare_, and the greatest _betrayer_ that\nyou can possibly admit into your heart.\n\nLet every day therefore be a day of humility; condescend to all the\ninfirmities of your fellow-creatures, cover their frailties, love\ntheir excellencies, encourage their virtues, relieve their wants,\nrejoice in their prosperities, compassionate their distress, receive\ntheir friendship, overlook their unkindness, forgive their malice,\nbe a servant of servants, and condescend to do the lowest offices to\nthe lowest of mankind.\n\n\n18. *Aspire after nothing but your own purity and perfection, and have\nno ambition but to do every thing in so religious a manner, that you\nmay be glad God is every where present, and sees all your actions. The\ngreatest trial of humility, is an humble behaviour towards your equals\nin _age_, _estate_, and _condition_. Therefore be careful of all the\nmotions of your heart towards these people. Let all your behaviour\ntowards them be governed by unfeigned love. Have no desire to put\nany of your equals below you, nor any anger at those that would put\nthemselves above you, if they are proud, they are ill of a very bad\ndistemper; let them therefore have your tender pity, and perhaps your\nmeekness may prove an occasion of their cure; but if your humility\nshould do them no good, it will however be the greatest good to\nyourself.\n\nRemember that there is but one man in the world, with whom you are to\nhave perpetual contention, and be always striving to excel him, and\nthat is yourself.\n\nThe time of practising these precepts, my child, will soon be over\nwith you; the world will soon slip thro\u2019 your hands, or rather you\nwill soon slip thro\u2019 it; it seems but the other day since I received\nthese instructions from my dear father, that I am now leaving with you.\nAnd the God that gave me ears to hear, and a heart to receive what my\nfather said unto me, will, I hope, give you grace to love and follow\nthe same instructions.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP XV.\n\n _Shewing how the method of educating |daughters,| makes it\n difficult for them to enter into the spirit of Christian\n humility. How miserably they are injured and abused by such\n an education. The spirit of a better education, represented\n in the character of |Eusebia|._\n\n\n1. THAT turn of mind which is taught and encouraged in the education\nof _daughters_, makes it exceeding difficult for them to enter into\nsuch a sense and practice of humility, as the spirit of Christianity\nrequireth.\n\n*The right education of this _sex_ is of the utmost importance. For\ntho\u2019 _women_ don\u2019t carry on the _trade_ and _business_ of the world;\nyet as they are _mothers_ and _mistresses_ of families, that have\nfor some time the care of the education of their children, they are\nentrusted with that which is of the greatest consequence to human life.\nFor this reason, _good_ or _bad_ women are likely to do as much good\nor harm in the world, as good or bad men in the greatest business.\n\n*For as the _health_ and _strength_, or _weakness_ of our bodies, is\nmuch owing to _their methods_ of treating us when we were young; so\nthe _soundness_ or _folly_ of our minds is not less owing to these\n_first tempers_ and ways of thinking, which we eagerly received from\nthe _love_, _tenderness_, _authority_, and constant _conversation_ of\nour mothers.\n\n*As we call our first language our _mother-tongue_, so we may as\njustly call our first tempers our _mother-tempers_; and perhaps it\nmay be found more easy to forget the _language_, than to part entirely\nwith those _tempers_ which we learnt in the _nursery_.\n\n\n2. It is therefore much to be lamented, that this _sex_, who have the\nfirst forming both of our _bodies_ and _minds_, are not only educated\nin _pride_, but in the _silliest_ and most _contemptible_ part of it.\n\n*They are not indeed suffered to dispute with us the proud _prizes_ of\n_arts_ and _sciences_; but we turn them over to the study of _beauty_\nand _dress_, and the whole world conspires to make them think of\nnothing else. _Fathers_ and _mothers_, _friends_ and _relations_, seem\nto have no other wish towards the _little girl_, but that she may have\na _fair skin_, _a fine shape_, _dress well_, and _dance_ to admiration.\n\nNow if a fondness for our _persons_, a desire of _beauty_, a love of\n_dress_, be a part of pride (as surely it is a most contemptible part\nof it) the first step towards a _woman\u2019s humility_, seems to require a\n_repentance_ of her education.\n\nFor it must be owned, that, generally speaking, good parents are never\nmore fond of their daughters, than when they see them _too fond_ of\nthemselves, and _dressed_ in such a manner, as is a great reproach to\nthe gravity and sobriety of the Christian life.\n\n\n3. The _church_ has formerly had _eminent saints_ in that sex; and it\nmay reasonably be thought, that it is purely owing to their _poor_ and\n_vain_ education, that this honour of their sex is for the _most part_\nconfined to _former_ ages.\n\n*The corruption of the world indulges them in great vanity, and\nmankind seem to consider them in no other view, than as so many\n_painted idols_, that are to allure and gratify their passions; so\nthat if many women are _vain_, _light_, _gewgaw_ creatures, they\nhave this to excuse themselves, that they are not only such as their\n_education_ has made them, but such as the _generality_ the world\n_allows_ them to be.\n\n*But then they should consider, that the _friends_ to their _vanity_\nare no friends of theirs; that they are to live for _themselves_;\nthat they have as great a share in the _rational nature_ as men have;\nthat they have as much _reason_ to pretend, and as much _necessity_ to\naspire after the _highest accomplishments_ of Christian virtue, as the\n_gravest_ and _wisest_ among Christian _philosophers_.\n\n*They should consider, that they are _abused_, and _injured_, and\n_betrayed_ from their _only perfection_, whenever they are taught,\nthat any thing is an _ornament_ in them, that is not an ornament in\nthe _wisest_ among mankind.\n\n\n4. *It is generally said, that _women_ are naturally of _little_ and\n_vain minds_; but this I look upon to be as _false_, as to say, that\n_butchers_ are naturally _cruel_: for as their cruelty is not owing to\ntheir _nature_, but to their _way_ of life; so whatever _littleness_\nand _vanity_ is in the minds of women, it is like the cruelty of\n_butchers_, a temper that is wrought into them by that life which they\nare _taught_ and _accustomed_ to lead.\n\nAnd if it were true, that they were thus naturally vain and light,\nthen how much more blameable is that education, which seems contrived\nto _strengthen_ and _increase_ this folly and weakness of their\nminds?\n\nFor if it were a virtue in a woman to be proud and vain of herself,\nwe could hardly take better means to raise this passion in her, than\nthose that are now used in their education.\n\n\n5. *_Matilda_ is a fine woman, of good _breeding_, and great _sense_.\nShe has three daughters that are educated by herself. She will not\ntrust them with any one else, or at any _school_, for fear they should\nlearn any thing ill. She stays with the _dancing-master_ all the time\nhe is with them, because she will hear every thing that is said to\nthem. She has heard them read the scriptures so often, that they can\nrepeat great part of it without book: and there is scarce a good book\nof _devotion_, but you may find it in their _closets_.\n\nHad _Matilda_ lived in the first ages of Christianity, she had in all\nprobability been one of the greatest saints. But as she was born in\ncorrupt times, where she hardly ever saw a piety higher than her own;\nso she has many defects, and communicates them all to her daughters.\n\n\n6. _Matilda_ never was _meanly_ dressed in her life; and nothing\npleases her in _dress_, but that which is very _rich_, and _beautiful_\nto the eye.\n\nHer daughters see her great zeal for religion, but then they see\nan equal earnestness for all sorts of _finery_. They see she is not\nnegligent of her _devotion_; but then they see her more careful to\npreserve her _complexion_, and to prevent those changes which time\nand age threaten her with.\n\nThey are afraid to meet her, if they have missed the _church_; but\nthen they are more afraid to see her, if they are not _laced_ as\n_straight_ as they can possibly be.\n\nShe often shews them her _own picture_, which was taken when their\nfather fell in love with her. She tells them how _distracted_ he was\nwith passion at the _first sight_ of her; and that she had never had\nso _fine_ a _complexion_, but for the diligence of her good mother,\nwho took exceeding care of it.\n\nThe children see so plainly _the temper_ of their mother, that they\naffect to be _more pleased_ with dress, than they really are.\n\nThey saw their eldest sister once brought to her _tears_, and her\n_perverseness_ severely reprimanded, for presuming to say, that she\nthought it was better to cover the _neck_, than to go so _far naked_\nas the modern dress requires.\n\n\n7. She stints them in their _meals_, and is very scrupulous of what\nthey eat and drink, and tells them how many _fine shapes_ she has seen\nspoiled in her time for want of such care.\n\nWhenever they begin to look _sanguine_ and _healthful_, she calls in\nthe assistance of the _doctor_; and if _physic_, or _issues_, will\nkeep the complexion from inclining to _coarse_ or _ruddy_, she thinks\nthem well employed.\n\nBy this means they are _poor_, _pale_, _sickly_, _infirm_ creatures,\n_vapoured_ through want of spirits, _crying_ at the smallest accidents,\n_swooning_ away at any thing that frights them, and hardly able to\nbear the _weight_ of their best cloaths.\n\nThe eldest daughter lived as long as she could under this discipline,\nand died in the twentieth year of her age.\n\nWhen her body was opened, it appeared that her _ribs_ had grown into\nher _liver_, and that her other _entrails_ were much hurt, by being\n_crushed_ together with her _stays_; which her mother had ordered to\nbe twitched so strait, that it has often brought tears into her eyes,\nwhilst the maid was dressing her.\n\nHer youngest daughter is run away with a _gamester_, a man of great\nbeauty, who in _dressing_ and _dancing_ has no superior.\n\n_Matilda_ says, she should die with grief at this accident, but that\nher _conscience_ tells her, she has contributed nothing to it herself.\nShe appeals to their _closets_, to their books of devotion, to testify\nwhat care she has taken to establish her children in piety.\n\n\n8. Now, tho\u2019 I don\u2019t intend to say, that no daughters are brought\nup in a _better way_ than this; yet thus much may be said, that the\ngreater part of them are not brought up so well, or accustomed to so\nmuch religion.\n\nTheir minds are turned as much to the care of their beauty and dress,\nwithout having such rules of devotion to stand against it. So that if\n_solid_ piety is much wanted in that sex, it is the plain consequence\nof a corrupt education.\n\nAnd if they are often ready to receive the first _fops_, _beaux_, and\nfine _dancers_, for their husbands, \u2019tis no wonder that they should\nlike that in men, which they have been taught to admire in themselves.\n\nSome people will perhaps say, that I am exercising too great a\nseverity against the sex.\n\nBut reasonable persons will observe, that I spare the _sex_, and only\narraign their _education_; that I not only spare them, but plead their\n_interest_, assert their _honour_, and only condemn that _education_\nwhich is so _injurious_ thereto.\n\nTheir education I cannot spare; but the only reason is, because it\nis their _greatest enemy_, because it deprives the world of so many\n_blessings_, and the church of so many _saints_.\n\nIf it should here be said, that I even charge _too high_ upon their\n_education_, and that they are not so _much_ hurt by it, as I imagine.\n\nIt may be answered, that tho\u2019 I don\u2019t pretend to state the _exact\ndegree_ of mischief that is done by it, yet its plain and natural\ntendency to do harm, is sufficient to justify the most _absolute_\ncondemnation of it.\n\n\n9. But how possible it is to bring up daughters in a more excellent\nway, let the following character declare.\n\n*_Eusebia_ is a pious widow, well born, and well bred, and has a good\nestate for five daughters, whom she brings up as one entrusted by\nGod, to fit five virgins for the kingdom of heaven. Her family has\nthe same regulation as a _religious house_, and all its orders tend\nto the support of a constant regular devotion.\n\nShe loves them as her spiritual children, and they reverence her\nas their spiritual mother, with an affection far above that of the\nfondest friends.\n\nShe has divided part of her estate among them, that every one may be\ncharitable out of their own stock, and each of them take it in their\nturns to provide for the _poor_ and _sick_ of the parish.\n\n_Eusebia_ brings them up to all kinds of labour that are proper\nfor women, as _sewing_, _knitting_, _spinning_, and all other parts\nof _housewifery_; not for their _amusement_, but that they may\nbe serviceable to themselves and others, and be saved from those\ntemptations which attend an idle life.\n\nShe tells them, she had rather see them reduced to the necessity\nof maintaining themselves by their own work, than to have riches to\nexcuse themselves from labour. For tho\u2019, says she, you may be able to\nassist the poor without your labour, yet by your labour you will be\nable to assist them more.\n\n\n10. If _Eusebia_ has lived as free from sin as it is possible for\nhuman nature, it is because she is always watching and guarding\nagainst _all instances_ of pride. And if her virtues are stronger and\nhigher than other peoples, \u2019tis because they are all founded in a deep\n_humility_.\n\nMy children, says she, when your father died, I was much pitied by my\nfriends, as having all the care of a family, and the management of an\nestate fallen upon me.\n\nBut my own grief was founded upon another principle: I was grieved to\nsee myself deprived of so faithful a friend; and that such an eminent\nexample of Christian virtues should be taken from the eyes of his\nchildren, before they were of an age to love and follow it.\n\nBut as to worldly cares, which my friends thought so heavy upon me,\nthey are most of them of our own making, and fall away as soon as we\n_know ourselves_.\n\nIf a person in a _dream_ is disturbed with strange appearances, his\ntrouble is over as soon as he is _awake_, and sees that it was a dream.\n\nNow, when a right knowledge of ourselves enters into our minds, it\nmakes as great a change in all our thoughts and apprehensions, as when\nwe _awake_ from the _wandrings_ of a dream.\n\nWe acknowledge a man to be _mad_ or _melancholy_, who fancies himself\nto be _glass_, and so is afraid of stirring; or taking himself to be\n_wax_, dares not let the _sun_ shine upon him.\n\nBut, my children, there are things in the world which pass for\n_wisdom_, _politeness_, _grandeur_, _happiness_, and _fine breeding_,\nwhich shew as great _ignorance_ of ourselves, and might as justly pass\nfor _thorough madness_, as when a man fancies himself to be _glass_ or\n_ice_.\n\nA woman that dares not appear in the world without _fine cloaths_,\nthat thinks it is a happiness to have a face _finely coloured_, to\nhave a skin _delicately fair_, that had rather die than be reduced to\npoverty, and be forced to work for a maintenance, is as ignorant of\nherself to the full, as he that fancies himself to be _glass_.\n\n\n11. For this reason, all my discourse with you, has been to acquaint\nyou with yourselves, and to accustom you to such books, as might best\ninstruct you in this greatest of all knowledge.\n\nYou would think it hard, not to know the family into which you was\nborn, what ancestors you were descended from, and what estate was to\ncome to you; but, my children, you may know all this with exactness,\nand yet be as ignorant of yourselves, as he that takes himself to be\n_wax_.\n\nFor tho\u2019 you were all of you born of my body, and bear your father\u2019s\nname, yet you are all of you _pure spirits_. I don\u2019t mean that you\nhave not bodies; \u2666but that _all_ which deserves to be called _you_,\nis nothing else but _spirit_. A being spiritual and rational in its\nnature; that is as contrary to all corporeal beings, as _life_ is\ncontrary to _death_; that is made in the image of God, to live for\never, never to cease any more, but to enjoy _life_, and _reason_, and\n_knowledge_, and _happiness_ in the presence of God, and the society\nof angels, and glorious spirits, to all eternity.\n\n \u2666 \u2018hut\u2019 replaced with \u2018but\u2019\n\nEvery thing that you call yours, besides this spirit, is but like your\n_cloathing_; something that is only to be used for awhile, and then to\nend, and die, and wear away, and to signify no more to you than the\n_cloathing_ and _bodies_ of other people.\n\n\n12. But, my children, you are not only in this manner _spirits_,\nbut you are _fallen_ spirits, that began your life in a state of\ncorruption and disorder, full of tempers and passions, that blind\nand darken your reason, and incline you to that which is hurtful.\n\nYour bodies are not only poor and perishing like your cloaths, but\nthey are like ill _infected cloaths_, that fill you with ill diseases,\nwhich oppress the soul with sickly appetites, and vain cravings.\n\nSo that all of us are like two beings, that have, as it were, two\nhearts within us; with the one we see, and taste, and admire reason,\nand holiness; with the other we incline to pride, and vanity, and\nsensual delights.\n\nIf you would know the one thing necessary to all the world, it is this,\nto preserve and perfect all that is _rational_, _holy_, and _divine_\nin our nature, and to mortify, remove, and destroy all _vanity_,\n_pride_, and _sensuality_.\n\nCould you think, my children, when you look at the world, and see\nwhat _customs_, and _fashions_, and _pleasures_, and _troubles_, and\n_projects_, employ the hearts and time of mankind, that things were\nthus?\n\nBut don\u2019t you be affected at these things; the world is in a great\n_dream_, and but few people are awake in it.\n\nWe fancy that we fall into darkness, when we die; but alas, we are\nmost of us in the dark till then; and the eyes of our souls only then\nbegin to see, when our bodily eyes are closing.\n\n\n13. You see then your state, my children; you are to improve and\nperfect the spirit that is within you; you are to prepare it for the\nkingdom of heaven, to nourish it with the love of God, to adorn it\nwith good works, and to make it as holy and heavenly as you can. You\nare to preserve it from the errors and vanities of the world; to save\nit from the corruptions of the body, from those false delights and\nsensual tempers which the body tempts it with.\n\nYou are to nourish your spirits with pious readings, and holy\nmeditations, with watchings, fastings, and prayers, that you may\nrelish that eternal state which is to begin when this life ends.\n\nAs to your bodies, you are to consider them as _poor_, _perishing_\nthings, that are corrupt at present, and will soon drop into common\ndust; you are to watch over them as _enemies_, that are always trying\nto betray you, and so never follow their counsel; you are to consider\nthem as the _place_ and _habitation_ of your souls, and so keep\nthem _clean_, and _decent_; you are to consider them as the servants\nand instruments of action, and so give them _food_, and _rest_, and\n_raiment_, that they may be strong and healthful to do the duties of\na charitable, useful, pious life.\n\nWhilst you live thus, you live like yourselves; and whenever you have\nless regard to your souls, or more regard to your bodies; whenever you\nare more intent upon adorning your persons, than upon perfecting your\nsouls, you are much more beside yourselves, than he that had rather\nhave a _laced coat_, than an healthful body.\n\n\n14. For this reason, my children, I have taught you nothing that was\ndangerous for you to learn: I have kept you from every thing that\nmight betray you into _weakness_ and _folly_; or make you think any\nthing fine, but a _fine mind_; any thing happy, but the favour of God;\nor any thing desirable, but to do all the good you possibly can.\n\nInstead of the vain, immodest entertainment of _plays_ and _operas_,\nI have taught you to delight in visiting the _sick_ and _poor_. What\n\u2666_music_, and _dancing_, and _diversions_ are to many in the world,\nthat prayers and devotions, and psalms are to you. Your hands have not\nbeen employed in plaiting the hair, and adorning your persons; but in\nmaking cloaths for the naked. You have not wasted your fortunes upon\nyourselves; but have added your labour to them, to do more good to\nother people.\n\n \u2666 \u2018musick\u2019 replaced with \u2018music\u2019\n\nInstead of forced _shapes_, _genteel airs_, and _affected motions_,\nI have taught you to conceal your bodies with _modest garments_, and\nlet the world have nothing to view of you, but the _plainness_, and\n_sincerity_, and _humility_ of all your behaviour.\n\n\n15. You know, my children, the _high perfection_, and the _great\nrewards_ of virginity; you know how it frees from worldly cares and\ntroubles, and furnishes means and opportunities of higher advancements\nin the divine life. Therefore love, and esteem, and honour virginity:\nbless God for all that glorious company of holy virgins, that from\nthe beginning of Christianity have, in the several ages of the church,\nrenounced the cares and pleasures of matrimony, to be perpetual\nexamples of contemplation and prayer.\n\nBut as every one has their proper gift from God, as I look upon you\nall to be so many great blessings of a married state; so I leave to\nyour choice, either to do as I have done, or to aspire after higher\ndegrees of perfection in a virgin state.\n\nI press nothing upon you, but to make the most of human life, and to\naspire after perfection in whatever state you chuse.\n\nNever therefore consider yourselves as persons that are to be _seen_,\n_admired_, and _courted_ by men; but as _poor sinners_, that are to\nsave yourselves from the vanities and follies of a miserable world.\nLearn to live for your own sakes, and the service of God; and let\nnothing in the world be of any value with you, but that which you can\nturn into a service to God, and a means of your future happiness.\n\n\n16. Whether married therefore, or unmarried, consider yourselves as\nmothers and sisters, as friends and relations to all that want your\nassistance; and never allow yourselves to be idle, whilst others are\nin want of any thing that your hands can make for them.\n\nThis useful, charitable, humble employment of yourselves, is what I\nrecommend to you with great earnestness; and besides the good you will\nthereby do to other people, your own heart will be improved by it.\n\nFor next to _reading_, _meditation_, and _prayer_, there is nothing\nthat so secures our hearts from foolish passions, as some _useful_,\n_humble_ employment of ourselves.\n\nNever therefore consider your labour as an _amusement_, that is to\nget rid of your time, and so may be as trifling as you please; but\nconsider it as something that is to be serviceable to yourselves and\nothers, that is to serve some sober ends of life, to save and redeem\nyour time, and make it turn to your account, when the works of all\npeople shall be tried by fire.\n\nIf there is any good to be done by your labour, if you can possibly\nemploy yourselves usefully to other people, how silly is it, how\ncontrary to the wisdom of religion, to make that a _mere amusement_,\nwhich might as easily be made an exercise of the _greatest\ncharity_?\n\nWhat would you think of the wisdom of him, that should employ his time\nin distilling of waters, and making liquors which no body could use,\nmerely to amuse himself with the variety of their colour, when, with\nless labour and expence, he might satisfy the wants of those who have\nnothing to drink?\n\nYet he would be as wisely employed, as those that are amusing\nthemselves with such tedious works as they neither need, nor hardly\nknow how to use when they are finished; when, with less labour and\nexpence, they might be doing as much good, as he that is _cloathing_\nthe naked, or _visiting_ the sick.\n\nBe glad therefore to know the wants of the poorest people, and let\nyour hands be employed in making such things for them, as their\nnecessities require. By thus making your labour a gift and service to\nthe poor, your ordinary work will be changed into a holy service, and\nmade as acceptable to God as your devotions.\n\nThis will make you true disciples of your meek Lord and Master, who\n_came into the world not to be ministered unto, but to minister_; and\ntho\u2019 he was Lord of all, and among the creatures of his own making,\nyet was among them _as one that serveth_.\n\n\n17. Christianity has then had its effect upon your hearts, when it has\nremoved pride from you, and made you delight in humbling yourselves\nbeneath the lowest of all your fellow creatures.\n\nLive therefore, my children, as you have begun your lives, in humble\nlabour for the good of others; not in ceremonious visits and vain\nacquaintances. Contract no foolish friendships, or vain fondnesses\nfor particular persons; but love them most, that most turn your love\ntowards God, and your compassion towards all the world.\n\nBut above all, avoid the conversation of _fine-bred fops_ and _beaux_,\nand hate nothing more than the idle discourse, the flattery and\ncompliments of that sort of men; for they are the _shame_ of their\nown _sex_, and ought to be the _abhorrence_ of yours.\n\nWhen you go abroad, let humility, modesty, and a decent carriage, be\nall the _state_ you take upon you; and let tenderness, compassion, and\ngood-nature, be all the _fine breeding_ you shew in any place.\n\nIf evil _speaking_, _scandal_, or _backbiting_, be the conversation\nwhere you happen to be, be as much grieved as if you was amongst\ncursing and swearing, and retire as soon as you can.\n\nTho\u2019 you intend to marry, yet let the time never come, till you find\na man that has those perfections which you have been labouring after\nyourselves; who is likely to be a friend to all your virtues, and with\nwhom it is better to live, than to want the benefit of his example.\n\n\n18. Love _poverty_, and reverence _poor people_; as for many reasons,\nso particularly for this, because our blessed Saviour was one of the\nnumber.\n\nVisit and converse with them frequently; you will often find\n_simplicity_, _innocence_, _patience_, _fortitude_, and great piety\namongst them.\n\nRejoice at every opportunity of doing an humble action; whether it be,\nas the scripture expresses it, in _washing the saints feet_, that is,\nin waiting upon, and serving those that are below you, or in bearing\nwith the haughtiness and ill manners of those that are your equals,\nor above you. For there is nothing better than humility; it is the\nfruitful soil of all virtues, and every thing that is kind and good,\nnaturally grows from it.\n\nTherefore, my children, pray for, and practise, humility; and reject\nevery thing in _dress_, or _carriage_, or _conversation_, that has any\nappearance of pride.\n\nStrive to do every thing that is praise-worthy, but do nothing in\norder to be praised; nor think of any reward for your labours of love,\ntill Christ cometh with all his holy angels.\n\n\n19. And above all, my children, have a care of vain thoughts of your\nown virtues. For as soon as ever people live different from the common\nway of the world, the devil represents to their minds the height of\ntheir perfections; and is content they should excel in good works,\nprovided he can make them proud of them.\n\nTherefore watch over your virtues with a jealous eye, and reject every\nvain thought, as you would reject the most wicked imaginations; and\nthink what a loss it would be to you, to have the fruit of all your\ngood works devoured by the vanity of your minds.\n\nNever therefore allow yourselves to despise those who do not follow\nyour rules, but love them, and pray to God for them; and let humility\nbe always _whispering_ in your ears, that you yourselves would fall\nfrom those rules to-morrow, if God should leave you to your own\nstrength and wisdom.\n\nWhen therefore you have spent days and weeks well, do not suffer your\nhearts to contemplate any thing as your own, but give all the glory to\nGod, who has carried you thro\u2019 such rules of holy living, as you were\nnot able to observe by your own strength; and take care to begin the\nnext day, not as proficients in virtue, that can do great matters, but\nas _poor beginners_, that want the daily assistance of God to save you\nfrom the _grossest sins_.\n\n\n20. Your dear father was an humble, watchful, pious, wise man. Whilst\nhis sickness would suffer him to talk with me, his discourse was\nchiefly about your education. He knew the benefits of humility, he saw\nthe ruins which pride made in our sex; and therefore he conjured me\nwith the tenderest expressions, to renounce the _fashionable ways_ of\neducating daughters in _pride_ and _softness_, in the care of their\n_beauty_ and _dress_; and to bring you all up in the _plainest_,\n_simplest_ instances of an humble, holy, and industrious life.\n\nHe taught me an admirable rule of humility, which he practised all\nthe days of his life; which was this, to let no morning pass, without\nthinking upon some _frailty_ and _infirmity_ of our own, that may\nput us to _confusion_, make us _blush inwardly_, and entertain a mean\nopinion of ourselves.\n\nThink therefore, my children, that the soul of your good father, who\nis now with God, speaks to you through my mouth; and let the double\ndesire of your father, who is gone, and me, who am with you, prevail\nupon you to love God, to study your own perfection, to practise\nhumility, and, with innocent labour, to do all the good you can to\nall your fellow creatures, till God calls you to another life.\n\n*Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters. And a very ordinary\nknowledge of the _spirit_ of _Christianity_, may convince us, that\nno education can be of true advantage to young women, but that which\ntrains them up in _humble industry_, in _great plainness_ of life, in\n_exact modesty_ of _dress_, _manners_ and _carriage_, and in _strict\ndevotion_. For what should a Christian woman be, but a _plain_,\n_unaffected_, _modest_, _humble_ creature, averse to every thing in\nher _dress_ and _carriage_, that can draw the eyes of beholders, or\ngratify the passions of lewd and amorous persons?\n\n\n21. *These considerations may teach you to let no day pass, without\na serious application to God, for the _whole spirit_ of humility:\nfervently beseeching him to fill every part of your soul with it; to\nmake it the ruling, constant habit of your mind, that you may not only\nfeel it, but feel all your other tempers arising from it; that you\nmay have no thoughts, no desires, no designs, but such as are the true\nfruits of an humble, meek, and lowly heart.\n\nThat you may always appear poor, and little, and mean in your own eyes,\nand fully content that others should have the same opinion of you.\n\nThat the whole course of your life, your _expence_, your _house_, your\n_dress_, your manner of _eating_, _drinking_, _conversing_, and doing\n_every thing_, may be so many continual proofs of the humility of your\nheart.\n\nThat you may look for nothing, claim nothing, resent nothing; that\nyou may go thro\u2019 all the actions of life calmly and quietly, as in\nthe presence of God, looking wholly unto him, acting wholly for him;\nneither seeking applause, nor resenting neglects, or affronts, but\ndoing and receiving every thing in the meek and lowly spirit of our\nLord and Saviour Jesus Christ.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n _Recommending devotion at twelve o\u2019clock, called, in scripture,\n the |sixth hour| of the day. This frequency of devotion,\n equally desirable by all orders of people. |Universal love|\n is recommended to be the subject of prayer at this hour. Of\n intercession, as an act of universal love._\n\n\n1. IT will, perhaps, be thought by some, that these hours of prayer\ncome _too thick_, and are only fit for _monasteries_, or such people\nas have no more to do in the world than they have.\n\nTo this it is answered, this method of devotion is not pressed upon\nany as _absolutely necessary_, but recommended to all people, as the\n_best_ and the _happiest_ way of life.\n\nAnd if exemplary devotion is as much the happiness and perfection of a\n_merchant_, a _soldier_, or a man of _quality_, as it is the happiness\nand perfection of the most _retired_, _contemplative_ life, then it is\nas proper to recommend it without any _abatements_ to one order of men\nas to another.\n\nHere is therefore no excuse for men of _business_ and _figure_.\n_First_, Because it would be to excuse them from that which is the\nend of living, to make them _less beneficial_ to themselves, and _less\nserviceable_ to God and the world.\n\n*_Secondly_, Because most men of business and figure engage _too far_\nin worldly matters; much farther than the reasons of human life, or\nthe necessities of the world require.\n\n*_Merchants_ and _tradesmen_, for instance, are generally ten times\nfarther engaged in business than they need; which is so far from being\na reasonable _excuse_ for their want of time for devotion, that it\nis their _crime_, and must be censured as a blameable instance of\ncovetousness and ambition.\n\n_Gentry_, and people of _figure_, either give themselves up to\n_state-employments_, or to the gratifications of their _passions_,\nin a life of _gaity_ and _debauchery_. And if these things might\nbe admitted as allowable avocations from devotion, devotion must be\nreckoned a poor circumstance of life.\n\nUnless _gentlemen_ can shew, that they have another God, than the\nFather of our Lord Jesus Christ; another nature, than that which is\nderived from _Adam_; another religion than the Christian, it is in\nvain to plead their state, and dignity, as reasons for not preparing\ntheir souls for God, by a _strict_ and _regular_ devotion.\n\n\n2. If a _merchant_, having forbore too great business, that he might\nquietly attend on the service of God, should die worth _twenty_,\ninstead _fifty_ thousand pounds, could any one say, he had mistaken\nhis _calling_, or gone a _loser_ out of the world?\n\nIf a _gentleman_ should have killed _fewer foxes_, been less frequent\nat _balls_, _gaming_, and _merry meetings_, because stated parts\nof his time had been given to _retirement_, to _meditation_, and\n_devotion_, could it be thought, that when he left the world, he would\nregret the loss of those hours that he had given to the improvement of\nhis soul?\n\nIf a _tradesman_, by aspiring after Christian perfection, and retiring\noften from business, should, instead of leaving his children fortunes\nto spend in _luxury_ and _idleness_, leave them to live by their own\nhonest labour; could it be said that he had made a _wrong use_ of the\nworld, because he had more regard to that which is eternal, than to\nthis which is so soon to be at an end?\n\nSince therefore devotion is not only the best and most desirable\npractice in a _cloyster_, but in _every state_ of life, they that\ndesire to be excused from it, because they are men of _figure_, and\n_estates_, and _business_, are no wiser than those that should desire\nto be excused from _health_ and _happiness_, because they were men of\n_figure_ and _estates_.\n\n\n3. I can\u2019t see why every _gentleman_, _merchant_, or _soldier_, should\nnot put these questions seriously to himself;\n\n_What is the best thing for me to aim at in all my actions? How shall\nI do to make the most of human life? What ways shall I wish that I had\ntaken, when I am leaving the world?_\n\nNow, to be thus wise, seems but a _small_ and _necessary_ piece of\nwisdom. For how can we pretend to sense and judgment, if we dare not\nseriously consider, and govern our lives by that which such questions\nrequire of us?\n\nShall a _nobleman_ think his birth too high, to condescend to such\nquestions as these? Or a _tradesman_ think his business too great, to\ntake any care about himself?\n\nNow, here is desired no more devotion in any one\u2019s life, than the\nanswering these _few questions_ requires.\n\nAny devotion that is not to the greater advantage of him that uses\nit, than any thing he can do in the _room_ of it; any devotion that\ndoes not procure an _infinitely greater_ good, than can be got by\nneglecting it, is yielded up.\n\nBut if people will live in so _much ignorance_, as never to put these\nquestions to themselves, but push on a blind life at all chances, in\nquest of they don\u2019t know what, or why; without ever considering the\nworth, or value, or tendency of their actions; without considering\nwhat God, _reason_, _eternity_, and their own happiness requires of\nthem: it is for the honour of devotion that none can neglect it, but\nthose who are thus inconsiderate, who dare not enquire after that\nwhich is the best and most worthy of their choice.\n\n\n4. *It is true, _Claudius_, you are a man of _figure_ and _estate_,\nand are to act the part of such a station in life; you are not called,\nas _Elijah_ was, to be a prophet, or as St. _Paul_, to be an apostle.\n\nBut will you therefore not love yourself? Will you not seek and study\nyour own happiness?\n\nYou would think it very absurd for a man not to value his own _health_,\nbecause he was not a \u2666_physician_; or the preservation of his _limbs_,\nbecause he was not a _bone-setter_: yet it is more absurd for you,\n_Claudius_, to neglect the improvement of your soul, because you are\nnot an apostle, or a bishop.\n\n \u2666 \u2018physycian\u2019 replaced with \u2018physician\u2019\n\n*Consider, _we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ,\nthat every one may receive the things done in his body, according\nto that he hath done, whether it be good or bad_, 2 Cor. v. 10.\nNow, if your _estate_ would excuse you from appearing before this\njudgment-seat; if your _figure_ could protect you from receiving\naccording to your works, there would be some pretence for your leaving\ndevotion to other people: but if you, who are now thus distinguished,\nmust then appear _naked_ amongst _common souls_, without any other\ndistinction from others, but such as your virtues or sins give you,\ndoes it not as much concern you, as any _prophet_, or _apostle_, to\nmake the best provision for that great day?\n\nConsider the words of St. _Peter_, _As he which hath called you is\nholy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation_, 1 Pet. i. 15.\n\nIf therefore, _Claudius_, you are one of those here called, you see\nwhat it is that you are called to. It is not to have so much religion\nas suits with your temper, your business, or your pleasures; it is not\na particular sort of piety, that may be sufficient for gentlemen of\nfigure and estates; but it is, _first_, to be _holy_, _as he which\nhath called you is holy_; _secondly_, it is to be _thus holy_ in all\nmanner of conversation; that is, to carry this spirit and degree of\nholiness into every part, and through the whole form of your life.\n\nAnd the reason the apostle immediately gives, why this spirit of\nholiness must be the common spirit of Christians, as such, is very\naffecting, and such as equally calls upon all sorts of Christians.\n_Forasmuch as ye know, that ye were not redeemed with corruptible\nthings, as silver and gold, from your vain conversation,\u2015\u2015but with\nthe precious blood of Christ._\n\nAs if he had said, forasmuch as ye know ye were made capable of\nthis state of holiness, entered into a society with Christ, and made\nheirs of his glory, not by any human means, but by such a mysterious\ninstance of love, as infinitely exceeds every thing that can be\nthought of in this world; since God has redeemed you to himself, and\nyour own happiness, at so _great a price_, how base and shameful must\nit be, if you don\u2019t henceforth devote yourselves wholly to the glory\nof God, and become holy as he who hath called you is holy?\n\n\n5. Again, the apostle saith, _Know ye not, that your body is the\ntemple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, and ye are not your own? For\nye are bought with a price; therefore glorify |God| in your body, and\nin your spirit, which are |God|\u2019s_, 1 Cor. vi. 19, 20.\n\nHow poorly therefore, _Claudius_, have you read the scripture? How\nlittle do you know of Christianity, if you can talk of your _estate_\nand _condition_, as a pretence for a freer kind of life?\n\nAre you any more _your own_, than he that has no estate or dignity in\nthe world? Must _mean_ and _little_ people preserve their bodies as\ntemples of the Holy Ghost, by _watching_, _fasting_, and _prayer_;\nbut may you indulge yours in _idleness_, in _lust_, and _sensuality_,\nbecause you have so much _rent_, or such a _title_ of distinction?\n\nAnd you must either think thus, or else acknowledge that the holiness\nof _saints_, _prophets_, and _apostles_, is the holiness that you are\nto labour after with all diligence and care.\n\nAnd if you leave it to others, to live in such piety and devotion, in\nsuch self-denial, humility, and temperance, as may render them able to\nglorify God in their body, and in their spirit; you must leave it to\nthem also, to have the benefit of the blood of Christ.\n\n\n6. Thus much being said to shew, that _great devotion_ is not to be\nleft to any particular sort of people, but to be the _common spirit_\nof all Christians; I now proceed to consider the nature of _universal\nlove_, which is here recommended to be the subject of your devotion at\nthis hour.\n\nBy intercession is meant a praying to God, in behalf of our\nfellow-creatures.\n\nOur blessed Lord hath recommended his love to us, as the pattern\nof our love to one another. As therefore he is continually making\nintercession for us all, so ought we to intercede for one another.\n\n_A new commandment_, saith he, _I give unto you, that ye love one\nanother, as I have loved you. By this shall all men know that ye are\nmy disciples, if ye love one another._\n\nThe newness of this precept did not consist in this, that men were\ncommanded to love one another; for this was an old precept, both of\nthe law of _Moses_, and of nature. But it was new in this respect,\nthat it was to imitate a new, and, till then, unheard-of example of\nlove; it was to love one another, as Christ had loved us.\n\nAnd if men are to know that we are disciples of Christ, by our loving\none another, according to his example; then, if we are void of this\nlove, we make it plainly known we are none of his disciples.\n\n\n7. There is no principle more acceptable to God, than an _universal_\nfervent love to all mankind, _wishing_ and _praying_ for their\nhappiness; because there is no principle that makes us more like\nGod, who is love and goodness itself, and created all beings for the\nenjoyment of happiness.\n\nThe greatest _idea_ that we can frame of God is, a being of infinite\nlove and goodness; using infinite wisdom and power for the common good\nand happiness of all his creatures.\n\nThe highest notion therefore that we can form of man is, when we\nconceive him as like God in this respect as he can be; using all his\nfinite faculties, whether of wisdom, power, or prayers, for the common\ngood of all his fellow-creatures: heartily desiring they may have all\nthe happiness they are capable of, and as many assistances from him,\nas his condition in the world will permit him to give them.\n\nAnd, on the other hand, what a _baseness_ and _iniquity_ is there\nin all instances of _hatred_, _envy_, _spite_ and _ill will_;\nif we consider, that every instance of them, is so far acting in\n_opposition_ to God, and intending _mischief_ and _harm_ to those\ncreatures, which God _favours_, and _protects_, and _preserves_, in\norder to their happiness? An _ill-natured_ man amongst God\u2019s creatures,\nis the most _perverse_ creature in the world, acting contrary to that\n_love_, by which himself _subsists_, and which alone gives subsistence\nto all that variety of beings, that enjoy life in any part of the\ncreation.\n\n\n8. _Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do unto\nthem._\n\nNow, though this is a doctrine of _strict justice_, yet it is only an\n_universal love_ that can comply with it.\n\nAs we have no degrees of spite or ill-will to ourselves, so we cannot\nbe disposed towards others as we are towards ourselves, till we\n_universally_ renounce all instances of spite and ill-will, even in\nthe _smallest_ degrees.\n\nIf we had any imperfection in our _eyes_, that made us see _any one_\nthing wrong, for the same reason they would shew us an hundred things\nwrong.\n\nSo if we have any temper of our hearts, that makes us spiteful,\nor ill-natured towards _any one_ man, the same temper will make us\nenvious, and spiteful, and ill-natured towards a great many more.\n\nIf therefore we desire this love, we must exercise our hearts in the\nlove of _all_, because it is not _Christian_ love, till it is the love\nof _all_.\n\nIf a man could keep this whole law of love, and yet offend in _one\npoint_, he would be guilty of all. For as one allowed instance of\ninjustice destroys the justice of all our other actions; so one\nallowed instance of envy, spite, or ill-will, renders all our other\nacts of affection nothing worth.\n\nActs of love, that proceed not from a principle of _universal love_,\nare but like acts of justice, that proceed from a heart not disposed\nto _universal justice_.\n\n\n9. Now, the noblest motive to universal tenderness is this, _God is\nlove, and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God_.\n\nWho therefore, whose heart has any tendency towards God, would not\naspire after this divine temper.\n\nHow should we rejoice in the exercise of this love, which, is an\nassurance to us, that we act according to his Spirit, who is love\nitself?\n\nGod willeth the happiness of all beings, though it is no happiness to\nhimself; therefore we must desire the happiness of all beings, tho\u2019 no\nhappiness cometh to us from it.\n\nGod equally delighteth in the perfections of all his creatures;\ntherefore we should rejoice in those perfections wherever we see them,\nand be as glad to have other people perfect as ourselves.\n\n\n10. *God, besides his own great example of love, which ought to draw\nall his creatures after it, has so provided for us, and made our\nhappiness so _common_ to us all, that we have no occasion to envy or\nhate one another.\n\nFor we cannot stand in one another\u2019s way; or by enjoying our true good,\nkeep another from his full share of it.\n\nAs we cannot be happy, but in the enjoyment of God; so we cannot rob\none another of this happiness.\n\nAnd as to other things, the _enjoyments_ of this life, they are so\nlittle in themselves, so foreign to our happiness; and generally\nspeaking, so _contrary_ to that which they appear to be, that they\nare no foundation for envy, or hatred.\n\nHow silly would it be to envy a man, that was drinking poison out of a\n_golden_ cup? And yet who can say, that he is acting wiser than thus,\nwhen he is envying any instance of worldly greatness?\n\n\n11. *How many _saints_ has adversity sent to heaven? And how many\nsinners has prosperity plunged into everlasting misery? A man seems to\nbe in the most glorious state, when he has conquered, disgraced, and\nhumbled his enemy; though it may be, that same conquest has saved his\nadversary, and undone himself.\n\n_This_ man had perhaps never been debauched, but for his _fortune_ and\n_advancement_; _that_ had never been pious, but thro\u2019 his _poverty_\nand _disgrace_.\n\nShe that is envied for her beauty, may, perchance, owe all her\n_misery_ to it; and another may be for ever happy, for having had no\nadmirers of her _person_.\n\n_One_ man succeeds in every thing, and so loses all: _another_ meets\nwith nothing but crosses and disappointments, and thereby gains more\nthan all the world is worth.\n\nThis _clergyman_ may be undone by his being made a _bishop_; and\n_that_ may save both himself and others by being fixed to his _poor\nvicarage_.\n\nHow envied was _Alexander_, when conquering the world, he built\n_towns_, set up his _statues_, and left marks of his glory in so many\nkingdoms!\n\nAnd how despised was the poor preacher St. _Paul_ when he was _beaten\nwith rods_! And yet how strangely was the world mistaken in their\njudgment! How much to be envied was St. _Paul_! How much to be pitied\nwas _Alexander_!\n\nThese few reflections shew, that the different conditions of this life\nhave nothing in them to excite our uneasy passions, nothing that can\nreasonably interrupt our love and affection to one another.\n\n\n12. To proceed now to another motive to this _universal_ love.\n\nOur power of doing _external acts_ of love, is often very narrow\nand restrained. There are, it may be, but few people to whom we can\ncontribute any worldly relief.\n\nBut tho\u2019 our outward means of doing good are often thus limited, yet,\nif our hearts are full of love, we get, as it were, an infinite power;\nbecause God will attribute to us those good works, which we would have\nperformed, had it been in our power.\n\nYou cannot heal all the _sick_, relieve all the _poor_; you cannot\ncomfort all in distress, nor be a father to all the fatherless. You\ncannot, it may be, deliver many from their misfortunes, or teach them\nto find comfort in God.\n\n*But if there is a love in your heart, that _excites_ you to do _all_\nthat you can; if your love has _no bounds_, but continually _wishes_\nand _prays_ for the relief of all that are in distress, you will be\nreceived by God as a benefactor to those, who had nothing from you but\nyour _good-will_, and tender affections.\n\nYou cannot build _hospitals_ for the _incurable_; but if you join\nin your heart with those that do; if you are a friend to these great\nfriends to mankind, and rejoice in their eminent virtues, you will be\nreceived by God as a sharer of such good works, as tho\u2019 they had none\nof your _hands_, yet had _all_ your _heart_.\n\nThis consideration surely is sufficient to make us watch over our\nhearts with all diligence: and aspire after the height of a loving,\ncharitable, and benevolent mind.\n\n\n13. And, on the other hand, we may hence learn the great evil of\n_envy_, _spite_, _hatred_, and _ill-will_. For if the goodness of our\nhearts will intitle us to the reward of good actions, which we never\nperformed; it is certain that the badness of our hearts, will bring us\nunder the guilt of actions that we have never committed.\n\n*As he that lusteth after a woman shall be reckoned an adulterer,\ntho\u2019 he has only committed the crime in his heart; so the malicious,\nspiteful, ill-natured man, that only _secretly_ rejoices at evil,\nshall be reckoned a _murderer_, tho\u2019 he has shed no blood.\n\n*Since therefore our hearts, which are always naked and open to the\neyes of God, give such an exceeding extent and increase, either to our\nvirtues or vices, it is our _greatest_ business to govern the motions\nof our hearts, to correct and improve the inward state of our souls.\n\n\n14. Now there is nothing that so much exalts our souls, as this\nheavenly love; it cleanses and purifies like a holy fire, and all\nill tempers fall away before it. By love, I don\u2019t mean any _natural\ntenderness_, which is more or less in people, according to their\nconstitutions; but a _larger principle_ of the soul, which makes us\nkind to all our fellow-creatures, as creatures of God, and for his\nsake.\n\nIt is this love that loves all things in God, as his creatures, as the\nimages of his power, as the creatures of his goodness, as parts of his\nfamily, as members of his society, that becomes a holy principle of\nall great and good actions.\n\nThese reasons sufficiently shew, that no love is _holy_, or\n_religious_, till it becomes _universal_.\n\nFor if religion requires me to love all persons, as God\u2019s creatures,\nthat belong to him, that bear his image, enjoy his protection, and\nmake parts of his family and houshold; if these are the great reasons\nwhy I should live in love with any one man in the world, they are\nthe same great reasons why I should live in love with every man in\nthe world; and consequently, I offend against _all these reasons_,\nwhenever I want love towards any one man. The sin therefore of hating\nor despising any one man, is like the sin of hating all God\u2019s creation;\nand the necessity of loving any one man, is the same necessity of\nloving every man in the world. And tho\u2019 many people may appear to us\never so sinful, odious, or extravagant in their conduct, we must never\nlook upon that as the least motive for any contempt or disregard of\nthem; but look upon them with the greater compassion, as being in the\nmost pitiable condition that can be.\n\n\n15. *As it was the sins of the world, that made the Son of God become\na compassionate suffering Advocate for all mankind; so no one is of\nthe Spirit of Christ, but he that has the _utmost compassion_ for\nsinners. And you have never less reason to be pleased with yourself,\nthan when you find yourself most offended at the behaviour of others.\nAll sin is certainly to be hated; but then, we must set ourselves\nagainst sin, as we do against _sickness_ and _diseases_, by shewing\nourselves tender and compassionate to the _sick_ and _diseased_.\n\n*All other hatred of sin, which does not fill the heart with the\n_softest_, _tenderest_ affections towards persons miserable in it, it\nis the servant of sin at the same time that it seems to be hating it.\n\nAnd there is no temper which even good men ought more carefully to\nguard against than this. For it is a temper that lurks under the cover\nof many virtues, and by being unsuspected does the more mischief.\n\nA man naturally fancies, that it is his own love of virtue that makes\nhim not able to bear with those that want it; and when he _abhors_\none man, _despises_ another, and can\u2019t bear the _name_ of a third, he\nsupposes it all to be a proof of his own _high sense_ of virtue, and\n_just hatred_ of sin.\n\nAnd yet one would think that a man needed no other cure for this\ntemper, than this one reflection:\n\nThat if this had been the _spirit_ of the Son of God, if he had hated\nsin in _this manner_, there had been no redemption of the world: if\nGod had hated sinners in this manner, the world itself had ceased long\nago.\n\nThis therefore we may take for a certain rule, that the more we\npartake of the divine nature, and the higher our sense of virtue\nis, the more we shall compassionate those that want it. The sight of\nsuch people will then, instead of raising in us a haughty contempt,\nor peevish indignation towards them, fill us with such bowels of\ncompassion, as when we see the miseries of an _hospital_.\n\n\n16. That the follies therefore, and ill-behaviour of our fellow\ncreatures, may not lessen that love which we are to have for all\nmankind, we should often consider the reasons on which this duty of\nlove is founded.\n\nNow we are to love our neighbour, that is, all mankind, not because\nthey are wise, holy or virtuous; for all mankind never was, nor ever\nwill be so.\n\nAgain, if their goodness were the reason of our being obliged to love\npeople, we should have no _rule_ to proceed by; because tho\u2019 some\npeople\u2019s virtues or vices are notorious, yet, generally speaking, we\nare but ill judges of the virtue of other people.\n\n_Thirdly_, We are sure that the virtue of persons, is not the reason\nof our being obliged to love them, because we are commanded to pay\nthe highest instances of love to our worst enemies; we are to love,\nand bless, and pray for those that most injuriously treat us. This\ntherefore is demonstration, that the merit of persons is not the\nreason on which our obligation to love them is founded.\n\nLet us farther consider what that love is which we owe to our\nneighbour; it is to love him as ourselves, that is, to wish him every\nthing that we may lawfully wish to ourselves; to be glad of every good,\nand sorry for every evil that happens to him: and to be ready to do\nhim all such acts of kindness, as we are always ready to do ourselves.\n\nThis love therefore, you see, is nothing but a love of _benevolence_;\nit requires nothing of us, but good _wishes_, _tender affections_, and\nsuch acts of kindness, as we shew to ourselves.\n\n\n17. Now we are obliged to this love, in imitation of God\u2019s goodness,\nthat we may be children of our Father which is in heaven, who willeth\nthe happiness of all his creatures, and maketh his sun to rise on the\nevil and on the good.\n\nAgain, our redemption, by Jesus Christ, calleth us to the exercise of\nthis love, who came from heaven, and laid down his life, out of love,\nto the whole sinful world.\n\n_Lastly_, Our Lord and Saviour has required us to love one another, as\nhe loved us.\n\nThese are the great, perpetual reasons, on which our obligation to\nlove all mankind as ourselves is founded.\n\nThese reasons never vary; they always continue in their full force;\nand therefore equally oblige at all times, and in regard to all\npersons.\n\nGod loves us, not because we are wise, and good, and holy, but in pity\nto us, because we want this happiness. He loves us, in order to make\nus good. Our love therefore must take this course; not looking for, or\nrequiring the merit of our brethren, but pitying their disorders, and\nwishing them all the good that they want, and are capable of receiving.\n\n\n18. You will perhaps ask, if you are not to have a _particular esteem_\nfor good men? Yes; but this _esteem_ is very different from that love\nof _benevolence_ which we owe to our neighbour.\n\nThe distinction betwixt love of benevolence, and esteem, is plain and\nobvious.\n\nNo man is to have a _high esteem_ for his own accomplishments or\nbehaviour; yet every man is to love himself, that is, to wish well to\nhimself; therefore this distinction betwixt love and esteem, is not\nonly plain, but very necessary to be observed.\n\nAgain, if you think it hardly possible to dislike the actions of\nunreasonable men, and yet have a true love for them, consider this\nwith relation to yourself.\n\nIt is very possible, for you not only to dislike, but to _detest_ and\n_abhor_ a great many of your own past actions. But do you then lose\nany of those tender sentiments towards yourself, which you used to\nhave? Do you then cease to wish well to yourself? Is not the love of\nyourself as strong then as at any other time?\n\nNow what is thus possible with relation to ourselves, is possible with\nrelation to others. We may have the highest good wishes towards them,\ndesiring for them every good that we desire for ourselves, and yet at\nthe same time dislike their way of life.\n\n\n19. To conclude, all that love which we may justly have for ourselves,\nwe are in _strict justice_ obliged to exercise towards all other\nmen; and we offend against the great law of our nature, when our\ntempers towards others are different from those which we have towards\nourselves.\n\nNow that _self-love_ which is _just_ and _reasonable_, keeps us\nconstantly _tender_, _compassionate_, and _well-affected_ towards\nourselves. If therefore you don\u2019t feel these kind dispositions towards\nall other people, you may be assured, that you are not in that state\nof charity, which is the very life and soul of Christian piety.\n\nYou know how it hurts you, to be made the _jest_ and _ridicule_ of\nother people; how it grieves you to be _robbed_ of your reputation:\nif therefore you expose others to _scorn_ and _contempt_ in _any_\ndegree; if it pleases you to see or hear of their _frailties_ and\n_infirmities_; or if you are only _loth_ to conceal their faults,\nyou are so far from loving such people as yourself, that you may be\njustly supposed to have as much hatred for them, as you have love for\nyourself. For such tempers are as truly the proper fruits of hatred,\nas the contrary tempers are the proper fruits of love.\n\nAnd as it is a certain sign that you love yourself, because you are\ntender of every thing that concerns you; so it is as certain a sign\nthat you hate your neighbour, when you are pleased with any thing that\nhurts him.\n\n\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n _Of the necessity and benefit of |intercession|, considered\n as an exercise of universal love. How all orders of men are\n to interceed with God for one another. How such\n intercession amends and reforms the heart._\n\n\n1. THAT intercession is a great and necessary part of Christian\ndevotion, is very evident from scripture.\n\nThe first followers of Christ seem to support all their love, by\nprayers for one another.\n\nSt. _Paul_, whether he writes to churches, or particular persons,\nshews that they are the constant subject of his prayers.\n\nThus to the _Philippians_, _I thank my God upon every remembrance of\nyou: always in every prayer of mine for you all, making request with\njoy_, Phil. i. 4, 5.\n\nHis devotion had also the same care for particular persons, as appears\nby the following passage: _I thank my God, whom I serve from my\nforefathers, with a pure conscience, that, without ceasing, I have\nremembrance of thee in my prayers night and day_, 2 Tim. i. 3. How\nholy an acquaintance and friendship was this, how worthy of persons\nthat were raised above the world, and related to one another, as new\nmembers of a kingdom of heaven!\n\n\n2. Apostles and great saints did not only thus bless particular\nchurches, and private persons; but they themselves also received\ngraces from God by the prayers of others. Thus saith St. _Paul_ to the\n_Corinthians_, _You also helping together by prayer for us, that for\nthe gift bestowed upon us by the means of many persons, thanks may be\ngiven by many on our behalf_, 2 Cor. i. 11.\n\nThis was the _ancient friendship_ of Christians, uniting and cementing\ntheir hearts, not by worldly considerations, or human passions, but\nby the mutual communication of spiritual blessings, by prayers and\nthanksgivings to God for one another.\n\nIt was this holy intercession that raised Christians to such a state\nof mutual love, as far exceeded all that had been admired in human\nfriendship. And when the same spirit of intercession is again in the\nworld, this holy friendship will be again in fashion, and Christians\nwill be again the wonder of the world, for that exceeding love which\nthey bear to one another.\n\nFor a _frequent_ intercession with God, earnestly beseeching him to\nforgive the sins of all mankind, to bless them with his providence,\nenlighten them with his Spirit, and bring them to everlasting\nhappiness, is the divinest exercise that the heart of man can be\nengaged in.\n\n\n3. Be daily therefore on your knees in a solemn, deliberate\nperformance of this devotion, praying for others with such _length_,\n_importunity_, and _earnestness_, as you use for yourself; and you\nwill find all _little_, _ill-natured_ passions die away; and your\nheart will delight in the common happiness of others, as you used only\nto delight in your own.\n\nFor it is hardly possible for you to beseech God to make any one happy\nin his glory to all eternity, and yet be troubled to see him enjoy the\nmuch smaller gifts of God in this life.\n\nBut the greatest benefits of intercession are then received, when it\ndescends to such _particular_ instances as our _state_ and _condition_\nin life more particularly require of us.\n\nTho\u2019 we are to treat all mankind as _neighbour_ and _brethren_, as\noccasion offers; yet as we can only live in the actual society of\na few, and are more particularly _related_ to some than others; so\nwhen our intercession is made an exercise of love and care for those\namongst whom our _lot_ is fallen, or who belong to us in a _nearer\nrelation_, it then becomes the greatest benefit to ourselves.\n\nIf therefore you should always alter your intercessions, according as\nthe _needs_ of your _neighbours_ or _acquaintance_ require; beseeching\nGod to deliver them from such or such particular evils, or to grant\nthem this or that particular gift, or blessing; such intercessions,\nbesides the great charity of them, would have a mighty effect upon\nyour own heart.\n\n\n4. This would make it pleasant to you to be _courteous_, _civil_, and\n_condescending_ to all about you, and make you unable to say or do a\nrude or hard thing to those for whom you had used yourself to be so\nkind and compassionate in your prayers.\n\n*For there is nothing that makes us love a man so much, as praying\nfor him; and when you can once do this sincerely for any man, you have\nfitted your soul for the performance of every thing that is kind and\ncivil towards him. This will fill your heart with a generosity and\ntenderness, that will give you a better and sweeter behaviour, than\nany thing that is called _fine breeding_ and _good manners_.\n\nBy considering yourself as an advocate with God for your neighbours\nand acquaintance, you would never find it hard to be at peace with\nthem yourself. It would be easy to you to bear with, and forgive those,\nfor whom you particularly implored the divine mercy and forgiveness.\n\nSuch prayers as these amongst _neighbours_ and _acquaintance_,\nwould unite them to one another in the strongest bonds of love and\ntenderness. It would teach them to consider one another in a higher\nstate, as members of a _spiritual society_, that are created for the\nenjoyment of the common blessings of God, and fellow heirs of the same\nglory.\n\nAnd by being thus desirous that every one should have their full share\nof the favours of God, they would be glad to see one another happy in\nthe little enjoyments of this life.\n\n\n5. *_Ouranius_ is a holy priest, full of the spirit of the gospel,\nwatching, labouring, and praying for a poor _country village_. Every\nsoul in it is as dear to him as himself; and he loves them all, as he\nloves himself, because he _prays_ for them all, as often as he prays\nfor himself.\n\nIf his whole life is one continual exercise of great zeal and labour,\nhardly ever satisfied with any degrees of care and watchfulness, \u2019tis\nbecause he has learned the great value of souls, by so often appearing\nbefore God as an _intercessor_ for them.\n\nHe never thinks he can love, or do enough for his flock; because he\nnever considers them in any other view, than as so many persons, that,\nby receiving the gifts and graces of God, are to become his _hope_,\nhis _joy_, and his _crown of rejoicing_.\n\nHe goes about his parish, and visits every body in it; but visits in\nthe same spirit of piety that he preaches to them: he visits them to\nencourage their virtues, to assist them with his advice, to discover\ntheir manner of life, and to know the state of their souls, that he\nmay _interceed_ with God for them, according to their _particular\nnecessities_.\n\n\n6. When _Ouranius_ first entered into holy orders, he had a\n_haughtiness_ in his temper, a great _contempt_ for all foolish and\nunreasonable people: but he has _prayed away_ this spirit, and has now\nthe greatest tenderness for the most obstinate sinners; because he is\nalways hoping, that God will sooner or later hear those _prayers_ that\nhe makes for their repentance.\n\nThe _rudeness_, _ill-nature_, or _perverse_ behaviour of any of his\nflock, used at first to betray him into impatience; but it now raises\nno other passion in him, than a desire of being upon his knees in\nprayer to God for them.\n\nThus have his _prayers_ for others _altered_ and _amended_ the state\nof his own heart.\n\nIt would delight you to see with what _spirit_ he converses, with\nwhat _tenderness_ he reproves, with what _affection_ he exhorts, and\nwith what _vigour_ he preaches; and \u2019tis all owing to this, because he\nreproves, exhorts, and preaches to those, for whom he first _prays_ to\nGod.\n\nThis devotion softens his heart, enlightens his mind, sweetens his\ntemper, and makes every thing that comes from him, instructive,\namiable and affecting.\n\n\n7. At his first coming to this little _village_, it was as\ndisagreeable to him as a _prison_, and every day seemed too tedious\nto be endured in so retired a place. He thought his parish was too\nfull of _poor_ and _mean_ people, that were none of them fit for the\nconversation of a _gentleman_.\n\nThis put him upon a close application to his studies. He kept much at\nhome, writ _notes_ upon _Homer_ and _Plautus_, and sometimes thought\nit hard to be called to pray by any poor body, when he was just in the\nmidst of one of _Homer\u2019s battles_.\n\nThis was his _polite_, or I may rather say, _poor, ignorant_ turn of\nmind, before devotion had got the government of his heart.\n\nBut now his days are so far from being tedious, or his parish too\ngreat a retirement, that he only wants more time to do that variety of\ngood which his soul thirsts after. The solitude of his little parish\nis become matter of great comfort to him, because he hopes that God\nhas placed him and his flock there, to make it their way to heaven.\n\nHe can now not only converse with, but gladly _wait_ upon the poorest\nkind of people. He is now daily watching over the _weak_, humbling\nhimself to perverse, rude, ignorant people, wherever he can find them;\nand is so far from desiring to be considered as a _gentleman_, that\nhe desires to be used as the _servant_ of all; and in the Spirit of\nhis Lord and Master _girds himself_, and is glad to _kneel down_ and\n_wash_ any of their _feet_.\n\nHe now thinks the poorest creature in his parish good enough, and\ngreat enough, to deserve the humblest attendances, the kindest\nfriendships, the tenderest offices, he can possibly shew them.\n\nHe is so far now from wanting agreeable company, that he thinks there\nis no better conversation in the world, than to be talking with _poor_\nand _mean_ people about the kingdom of heaven.\n\nAll these noble thoughts and divine sentiments are the effects of\nhis great devotion; he presents every one so often before God in his\nprayers, that he never thinks he can _esteem_, or serve those enough,\nfor whom he implores so many mercies from God.\n\n\n8. _Ouranius_ is mightily affected with this passage of holy scripture,\n_The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much_,\nJames v. 16.\n\nThis makes him practise all the arts of holy living, and aspire after\nevery instance of piety, that his prayers for his flock may have their\nfull force, and avail much with God.\n\nFor this reason he has sold a small estate that he had, and has\nerected a charitable retirement for ancient, poor people, to live in\nprayer and piety; that his prayers, being assisted by such good works,\nmay _pierce the clouds_, and bring down blessings upon those souls\ncommitted to his care.\n\n\n9. _Ouranius_ reads how God himself said unto _Abimelech_ concerning\n_Abraham_: _He is a prophet; he shall pray for thee, and thou shalt\nlive_, Gen. xx. 7.\n\nAnd again, how he said of _Job_: _And my servant Job shall pray for\nyou; for him will I accept_, Job xlii. 8.\n\nFrom these passages _Ouranius_ justly concludes, that the prayers of\nmen eminent for holiness, have an extraordinary power with God; that\nhe grants to other people such blessings, through their prayers, as\nwould not be granted to men of less piety. This makes _Ouranius_\nexceeding studious of Christian perfection, searching after every\ngrace and holy temper, fearful of every error and defect in his life,\nlest his prayers for his flock should be less availing with God.\n\nThis makes him careful of every _temper_ of his heart, give _alms_\nof all that he hath, _watch_, and _fast_, and _mortify_, and live\naccording to the strictest rules of _temperance_, _meekness_ and\n_humility_, that he may be in some degree like an _Abraham_, or a\n_Job_, in his parish, and make such prayers for them as God will hear\nand accept.\n\nThese are the happy effects which a _devout intercession_ hath\nproduced in the life of _Ouranius_.\n\nAnd if other people in their several stations, were to imitate his\nexample, in such a manner as suited their particular state of life,\nthey would certainly find the same happy effects from it.\n\n\n10. *If _masters_, for instance, were to remember their _servants_\nin their prayers, beseeching God to bless them, and suiting their\npetitions to the particular wants of their servants; letting no day\npass, without a _full performance_ of this part of devotion; the\nbenefit would be as great to themselves as to their servants.\n\nNo way so likely as this, to inspire them with a true sense of that\npower which they have in their hands, to make them delight in doing\ngood, and become exemplary in all the parts of a wise and good master.\n\n*The presenting their servants so often before God, as equally\nrelated to God, and intitled to the same heaven as themselves,\nwould incline them to treat them not only with such _humanity_\nas became _fellow-creatures_, but with such _tenderness_, _care_,\nand _generosity_, as became _fellow-heirs_ of the same glory. This\ndevotion would make masters inclined to every thing that was good\ntowards their servants; be watchful of their behaviour, and as ready\nto require of them an exact observance of the duties of Christianity\nas of the duties of their service.\n\n*This would teach them to consider their servants as God\u2019s servants,\nto desire their perfection, to do nothing before them that might\ncorrupt their minds, to impose no business upon them that should\nlessen their sense of religion, or hinder them from their full\nshare of devotion, both public and private. This praying for them,\nwould make them as glad to see their servants eminent in piety as\nthemselves, and contrive that they should have all opportunities\nand encouragements, both to know and perform all the duties of the\nChristian life.\n\n\n11. How natural would it be for such a master, to perform every part\nof family devotion; to have constant prayers; to excuse no one\u2019s\nabsence from them; to have the scriptures, and books of piety, often\nread among his servants; take all opportunities of instructing them,\nof raising their minds to God, and teaching them to do all their\nbusiness, as a service to God, and upon the hopes and expectations\nof another life?\n\n*How natural would it be for such a one to pity their weakness and\nignorance, to bear with the dulness of their understandings, or the\nperverseness of their tempers; to reprove them with tenderness, exhort\nthem with affection, as hoping that God would hear his prayers for\nthem?\n\nHow impossible would it be for a master, that thus interceeded with\nGod for his servants, to use any unkind threatenings towards them, to\ndamn and curse them as _dogs_ and scoundrels, and treat them only as\ndregs of the creation?\n\nThis devotion would give them another spirit, and make them consider\nhow to make proper returns of care, kindness, and protection to those,\nwho had spent their strength and time in service and attendance upon\nthem.\n\n\n12. Now if _gentlemen_ think it too low an employment to exercise such\na devotion as this for their _servants_, let them consider how far\nthey are from the spirit of Christ, who made himself not only an\nintercessor, but a sacrifice for the whole race of sinful mankind?\n\nLet them consider how miserable their greatness would be, if the Son\nof God should think it as much below him to pray for them, as they do\nto pray for their fellow-creatures?\n\nLet them consider how far they are from that spirit, which prays for\nits most unjust enemies, if they have not kindness enough to pray for\nthose, by whose labours and service they live in ease themselves.\n\n\n13. Again: If parents should thus make themselves _advocates_ and\n_intercessors_ with God for their children, constantly applying to\nheaven in behalf of them, nothing would be more likely, not only\nto bless their children, but also to dispose their own minds to the\nperformance of every thing that was excellent and praise-worthy.\n\nI don\u2019t suppose, but that the generality of parents remember their\nchildren in their prayers. *But the thing here intended is not a\ngeneral remembrance of them, but a _regular method_ of recommending\nall their _particular needs_ unto God; and of praying for every\nsuch particular _grace_ and _virtue_ for them as their _state_ and\n_condition_ of life shall seem to require.\n\nThe state of parents is a holy state, in some degree like that of the\npriesthood, and calls upon them to bless their children with their\nprayers and sacrifices to God. Thus it was that holy _Job_ watched\nover, and blessed his children, he _sanctified them, he rose up early\nin the morning, and offered burnt-offerings, according to the number\nof them all_, Job i. 5.\n\nIf parents therefore, considering themselves in this light, should be\ndaily calling upon God in a _solemn, deliberate_ manner, _altering_\nand _extending_ their intercessions, as the _state_ and _growth_ of\ntheir children required, such devotion would have a mighty influence\nupon the rest of their lives; it would make them very circumspect\nin the government of themselves; prudent and careful of every thing\nthey said or did, lest their example should hinder that which they so\nconstantly desired in their prayers.\n\n\n14. If a father was daily making particular prayers to God, that\nhe would please to inspire his children with _true piety_, _great\nhumility_, and _strict temperance_, what could be more likely to make\nthe father himself become exemplary in these virtues? How naturally\nwould he grow ashamed of wanting such virtues as he thought necessary\nfor his children? So that his prayers for their piety, would be a\ncertain means of exalting his own.\n\nIf a father thus considered himself as an intercessor with God for his\nchildren, to bless them with his prayers, how would such thoughts make\nhim avoid every thing that was displeasing to God, lest when he prayed\nfor his children, God should reject his prayers?\n\n*How tenderly, how religiously would such a father converse with his\nchildren, whom he considered as his little spiritual flock, whose\nvirtues he was to form by his example, encourage by his authority,\nnourish by his counsel, and prosper by his prayers to God for them?\n\n*How fearful would he be of all unjust ways of raising their fortune,\nof bringing them up in pride and indulgence, or of making them too\nfond of the world, lest he should thereby render them incapable of\nthose graces which he was so often beseeching God to grant them?\n\n\n15. _Lastly_, If all people, when they feel the first approaches of\n_resentment_, _envy_, or _contempt_, towards others; or if in all\nlittle disagreements and misunderstandings whatever, they should,\ninstead of indulging their minds with little, low reflections, have\nrecourse to a more particular intercession with God, for such persons\nas had raised their envy, resentment, or discontent; this would be a\ncertain way to prevent the growth of all uncharitable tempers.\n\nIf you was always to form your prayer at that time to the greatest\ndegree of _contrariety_ to that temper which you was then in, it would\nbe an excellent means of mending your heart.\n\nAs for instance: when at any time you find in your heart motions of\n_envy_ towards any person, whether on account of his _riches_, _power_,\n_reputation_, _learning_, or _advancement_, if you should immediately\npray to God to bless and prosper him in that _very thing_ which raised\nyour envy; if you should repeat your petitions in the strongest terms,\nbeseeching God to grant him all the happiness from the enjoyment of it\nthat can possibly be received, you would soon find it to be the best\nantidote in the world, to expel the venom of that passion.\n\n*_Again_: If in any little difference or misunderstandings that you\nhappened to have at any time with a _relation_, a _neighbour_, or\nany one else, you should then pray for them in a more _extraordinary\nmanner_ than you ever did before, beseeching God to give them\nevery grace and blessing you can think of, you would take the\nspeediest method of reconciling all differences, and clearing up\nall misunderstandings. You would then think nothing too great to be\nforgiven, stay for no condescensions, need no mediation of a third\nperson, but be glad to testify your love and good-will to him, who\nhad so high a place in your secret prayers.\n\nThis would remove all peevish passions, soften your heart into the\nmost tender condescensions, and be the best arbitrator of all\ndifferences that happened betwixt you and any of your acquaintance.\n\n\n16. Hence we may also learn the odious nature of all _spite_, _hatred_,\n_contempt_, and _angry passions_. They are not to be considered as\ndefects in _good-nature_, not as failings in _civility_ or _good\nbreeding_, but as such _base tempers_ as are entirely inconsistent\nwith the _charity_ of intercession.\n\nYou think it a small matter to be _peevish_ or _ill-natured_ to such\nor such a man; but you should consider, whether it be a small matter\nto do that which you could not do, if you had but so much charity as\nto be able to recommend him to God in your prayers.\n\nYou think it a small matter to _ridicule_ one man, and _despise_\nanother; but you should consider, whether it be a small matter to want\nthat charity towards these people which Christians are not allowed to\nwant towards their most inveterate enemies.\n\nFor, be but as charitable to these men, do but _bless_ and _pray_ for\nthem, as you are obliged to bless and pray for your _enemies_, and\nthen you will find that you have charity enough, to make it impossible\nfor you to treat them with any degree of scorn or contempt.\n\nFor you cannot possibly despise and ridicule that man, whom your\n_private prayers_ recommend to the love and favour of God.\n\nWhen you despise and ridicule a man, it is with no other end but to\nmake him ridiculous and contemptible in the eyes of other men. How\ntherefore can it be possible for you sincerely to beseech God to bless\nthat man with the _honour_ of his love and favour, whom you desire men\nto treat as worthy of their contempt.\n\nCould you, out of love to a neighbour, desire your _prince_ to honour\nhim with his esteem and favour, and yet at the same time expose him to\nthe scorn and derision of your own servants.\n\nYet this is as possible, as to expose that man to the scorn and\ncontempt of your fellow-creatures, whom you recommend to the favour\nof God in your secret prayers.\n\n\n17. You cannot despise a brother, without despising him that stands\nin a _high relation_ to God, to his Son Jesus Christ, and to the Holy\nTrinity.\n\nYou would certainly think it a mighty impiety to treat a _writing_\nwith contempt, that had been written by the _finger_ of God; and can\nyou think it a less impiety to contemn a brother, who is not only the\n_workmanship_, but the _image_ of God?\n\nYou would justly think it great prophaneness to condemn and trample\nupon an _altar_, because it was appropriated to holy uses, and had\nhad the body of Christ so often placed upon it; and can you suppose\nit to be less prophaneness to scorn and trample upon a brother, who so\nbelongs to God, that his very body is the _temple of the Holy Ghost_,\n1 Cor. vi. 15.\n\n\n18. *But to return: _Intercession_ is not only the best arbitrator of\nall differences, the best promoter of true friendship, the best cure\nand preservative against all unkind tempers, all angry and haughty\npassions, but is also of great use to discover to us the true state\nof our own hearts.\n\nThere are many tempers which we think _lawful_ and _innocent_, which\nwe never suspect of any harm; which, if they were to be tried by this\ndevotion, would soon shew us how we have deceived ourselves.\n\n*_Susurrus_ is a pious, temperate man, remarkable for abundance of\nexcellent qualities. No one more constant at the service of the church.\nHis charity is so great, that he almost starves himself, to be able to\ngive greater alms to the poor.\n\n\n19. Yet _Susurrus_ had a prodigious failing along with these great\nvirtues.\n\nHe had a mighty inclination to hear and discover all the defects and\ninfirmities of all about him. You was welcome to tell him any thing of\nany body, provided that you did not do it in the _stile_ of an enemy.\nHe never disliked an _evil-speaker_, but when his language was _rough_\nand _passionate_. If you would but whisper any thing gently, tho\u2019 it\nwas ever so bad, _Susurrus_ was ready to receive it.\n\nWhen he visits, you generally hear him relating, how sorry he is for\nthe failings of such a neighbour. He is always letting you know how\ntender he is of the reputation of his neighbour; how loth to say that\nwhich he is forced to say; and how gladly he would conceal it, if it\ncould be concealed.\n\n_Susurrus_ had such a tender, compassionate manner of relating things\nthe most prejudicial to his neighbour, that he even seemed, both to\nhimself and others, to be exercising a Christian charity, at the same\ntime that he was indulging a whispering, evil-speaking temper.\n\n_Susurrus_ once whispered to a particular friend in great secrecy,\nsomething too bad to be spoke of publickly. He ended with saying, how\nglad he was, that he had some hopes it might not be true, tho\u2019 the\nsuspicions were very strong. His friend made him this reply:\n\nYou say, _Susurrus_, that you are glad it has not yet taken wind;\nand that you have some hopes it may not prove true. Go home therefore\nto your _closet_, and pray to God for this man, in such a manner,\nand with such earnestness as you would pray for yourself on the like\noccasion.\n\nBeseech God to interpose in his favour, to save him from false\naccusers, and bring all those to shame, who, by _uncharitable\nwhispers_, and _secret stories_, wound him, like those that stab in\nthe dark. And when you have made this prayer, then you may, if you\nplease, go tell the same secret to some other friend, that you have\ntold to me.\n\n\n20. _Susurrus_ was exceedingly affected with this rebuke, and felt the\nforce of it upon his conscience in as lively a manner, as if he had\nseen the _books opened_ at the day of judgment.\n\nAll other arguments might have been resisted; but it was impossible\nfor _Susurrus_ either to reject, or follow this advice, without being\nequally self-condemned in the highest degree.\n\nFrom that time to this, he has constantly used himself to this method\nof intercession; and his heart is so \u2666entirely changed by it, that\nhe can now no more privately whisper any thing to the prejudice of\nanother, than he can openly pray to God to do people hurt.\n\n \u2666 \u2018intirely\u2019 replaced with \u2018entirely\u2019\n\nWhisperings and evil-speakings now hurt his ears, like oaths and\ncurses; and he has appointed one day in the week, to be a day of\npenance as long as he lives, to humble himself before God, in the\nsorrowful confession of his former guilt.\n\nIt may be well wondered, how a man of so much piety as _Susurrus_,\ncould be so deceived in himself, as to live in such a state of\n_scandal_ and _evil-speaking_, without suspecting himself to be\nguilty of it. But it was the _tenderness_ and seeming _compassion_\nwith which he heard and related every thing, that deceived both\nhimself and others.\n\nThis was a falseness of heart, which was fully discovered, by the true\ncharity of _intercession_.\n\nAnd if people of virtue, who think as little harm of themselves,\nas _Susurrus_ did, were often to try their spirit by such an\n_intercession_, they would often find themselves to be such, as they\nleast of all suspected.\n\n\n The End of the _Fifth_ Volume.","title":"The works of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 05 (of 32)","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":90721}