_Concerning that part of devotion which relates to |times|
and |hours| of |prayer|. Of daily |early| prayer in the
morning. How we may improve our |forms| of prayer, and
increase the |spirit| of devotion._
1. HAVING in the foregoing chapters shewn the necessity of a devout
spirit, in every part of our common life, in the discharge of all our
business, in the use of all the gifts of God: I come now to consider
that part of devotion, which relates to _times_ and _hours_ of prayer.
*I take it for granted, that every Christian, that is in health, is
up _early_ in the morning; for it is much more reasonable to suppose
a person up _early_, because he is a _Christian_, than because he is
a _labourer_, or a _tradesman_, or a _servant_, or has business that
wants him.
*We naturally conceive some abhorrence of a man that is in _bed_, when
he should be at his _labour_, or in his _shop_. We can’t tell how to
think any thing good of him, who is such a slave to drowsiness, as to
neglect his business for it.
*Let this therefore teach us to conceive, how odious we must appear
in the sight of heaven, if we are in _bed_, shut up in _sleep_, when
we should be praising God; and are such slaves to drowsiness, as to
neglect our devotions for it.
For if he is to be blamed as a _slothful drone_, that rather chuses
the lazy indulgence of sleep, than to perform his proper worldly
business, how much more is he to be reproached, that had rather lie
folded up in a bed, than be raising up his heart to God in acts of
praise and adoration.
2. Prayer is the nearest approach to God, and the highest enjoyment of
him, that we are capable of in this life.
It is the noblest exercise of the soul, the most exalted use of our
best faculties, and the highest imitation of the blessed inhabitants
of heaven.
When our hearts are full of God, sending up holy desires to the throne
of grace, we are then in our highest state, we are upon the utmost
height of human greatness; we are not before _kings_ and _princes_,
but in the presence of the _Lord_ of all the world, and can be no
higher till death is swallowed up in glory.
On the other hand, _sleep_ is the _poorest_, _dullest_ refreshment of
the body; that is so far from being intended as an _enjoyment_, that
we are forced to receive it either in a state of _insensibility_, or
in the folly of _dreams_.
*_Sleep_, is such a _dull_, _stupid_ state of existence, than even
amongst _mere animals_, we despise them most which are most drowsy.
He therefore that chuses to enlarge the slothful indolence of sleep,
rather than be early at his devotions to God; chuses the dullest
refreshment of the body, before the highest, noblest enjoyment of the
soul; he chuses that state, which is a reproach to _mere animals_,
rather than that exercise, which is the glory of _angels_.
3. *Besides, he that cannot deny himself this drowsy indulgence, but
must pass away good part of the morning in it, is no more prepared
for prayer when he is up, than he is prepared for _fasting_, or any
other _self-denial_. He may, indeed, more easily read over a _form_ of
prayer, than he can perform those duties; but he is no more disposed
for the _true spirit_ of prayer, than he is disposed for _fasting_.
For sleep, thus indulged, gives a _softness_ and _idleness_ to all our
tempers, and makes us unable to relish any thing, but what suits with
an _idle state_ of mind, and gratifies our natural tempers, as sleep
does. So that a person that is a slave to this idleness, is in the
same temper when he is up; and tho’ he is not asleep, yet he is under
the effects of it: and every thing that is _idle_, _indulgent_, or
_sensual_, pleases him for the same reason that sleep pleases him:
on the other hand, every thing that requires _care_, _trouble_, or
_self-denial_, is hateful to him for the same reason that he hates to
rise.
4. It is not possible in nature for an _epicure_ to be truly devout;
he must renounce his sensuality, before he can relish the happiness of
devotion.
Now, he that turns sleep into an _idle indulgence_, does as much to
corrupt his soul, to make it a slave to bodily appetites, as he that
turns the necessity of eating into a course of indulgence.
A person that eats and drinks too much, does not feel such effects
from it as those do, who live in _notorious_ gluttony and intemperance;
but yet his course of indulgence, tho’ it be not _scandalous_ in
the eyes of the world, nor such as _torments_ his own conscience,
is a great and constant hindrance to his improvement in virtue: it
gives him _eyes that see not_, and _ears that hear not_; it creates
a sensuality in the soul, increases the power of bodily passions, and
makes him incapable of entering into the true spirit of religion.
And this is the case of those who waste their time in sleep; it
does not _disorder_ their lives, or _wound_ their consciences, as
_notorious acts_ of intemperance do; but, like any other more moderate
course of indulgence, it silently, and by smaller degrees, wears away
the spirit of religion, and sinks the soul into a state of dulness and
sensuality.
5. If you consider devotion only as a _time_ of so much prayer, you
may perhaps perform it, tho’ you live in this daily indulgence; but
if you consider it as a _state_ of the heart, that is deeply affected
with a sense of its own misery and infirmities, and desires the Spirit
of God more than all things in the world, you will find the spirit
of indulgence, and the spirit of prayer, cannot subsist together.
Self-denial, of _all kinds_, is the very life and soul of piety; but
he that has not so small a degree of it, as to be able to be early
at his prayers, can have no reason to think that he has taken up his
cross, and is following Christ.
*What conquest has he got over himself? What right-hand has he cut
off? What trials is he prepared for? What sacrifice is he ready to
offer to God, who cannot be so cruel to himself, as to rise to prayer
at such a time, as the drudging part of the world are content to rise
to their labour?
6. *Some people will not scruple to tell you, that they indulge
themselves in sleep, because they have nothing to do: and that if they
had either _business_ or _pleasure_ to rise to, they would not lose so
much of their time in sleep. But such people must be told, that they
mistake the matter; that they have a great deal of business to do;
they have a _hardened heart_ to change; they have the _whole spirit_
of religion to get. For surely, he that thinks devotion to be of
less moment than business or pleasure; or that he has nothing to do,
because nothing but his prayers want him, may be justly said to have
the whole spirit of religion to seek.
You must not therefore consider how small a crime it is to _rise late_;
but you must consider how great a misery it is to want the _spirit_
of religion; to have a heart not rightly affected with prayer, and to
live in such softness and idleness, as makes you incapable of the most
fundamental duties of a Christian life.
When you read the scriptures, you see a religion that is all _life_,
and _spirit_, and _joy_ in God; that supposes our souls risen from
earthly desires and bodily indulgences, to prepare for another body,
another world, and other enjoyments. You see Christians represented as
temples of the Holy Ghost, as children of the day, as candidates for
an eternal crown, as watchful virgins, that have their lamps always
burning in expectation of the bridegroom. But can he be thought to
have this joy in God, this care of eternity, this watchful spirit, who
has not zeal enough to rise to his prayers?
7. If I was to desire you not to study the gratification of your
_palate_, in the niceties of meats and drinks, I would not insist
upon the crime of wasting your money in such a way, tho’ it be a great
one; but I would desire you to renounce such a way of life, because it
supports you in such a state of sensuality and indulgence, as renders
you incapable of relishing the most essential doctrines of religion.
For the same reason, I don’t insist much upon the crime of wasting
your time in sleep, tho’ it be a great one; but I desire you to
renounce this indulgence, because it gives a softness and idleness to
your soul, and is so contrary to that _lively_, _zealous_, _watchful_,
_self-denying_ spirit, which was not only the Spirit of Christ and his
apostles, and the spirit of all the saints and martyrs which have ever
been among men, but must be the spirit of those who would not sink in
the common corruption of the world.
*Here therefore we must fix our charge against this practice; we must
blame it not as having this or that particular evil, but as a _general
habit_, that extends itself thro’ our whole spirit, and supports a
state of mind that is wholly wrong.
It is contrary to piety; not as accidental slips and mistakes in life
are contrary to it, but in such a manner, as an ill habit of body is
contrary to health.
On the other hand, if you was to rise early every morning, as an
instance of self-denial, as a method of renouncing indulgence, as
a means of redeeming your time, and fitting your spirit for prayer,
you would find mighty advantages from it. This method, tho’ it seems
such a small circumstance, would in all probability, be a means of
great piety. It would keep it constantly in your head, that softness
and idleness were to be avoided; that self-denial was a part of
Christianity. It would teach you to exercise power over yourself, and
make you able to renounce other pleasures and tempers that war against
the soul.
But above all, what is so planted and watered, will certainly have an
increase from God. You will then speak from your heart, your soul will
be awake, your prayers will refresh you like meat and drink, you will
feel what you say, and begin to know what saints and holy men have
meant by fervour in devotion.
8. Hoping therefore that you are now convinced of the necessity of
rising early to your prayers, I shall proceed to lay before you a
method of daily prayer.
I don’t take upon me to prescribe to you the use of any _particular
forms_ of prayer, but you will here find some helps, how to furnish
yourself with such as may be useful. And if your heart is ready to
pray in its own language, I press no necessity of borrowed forms.
For tho’ I think a form of prayer very _necessary_ to _public_ worship,
yet if any one can find a better way of raising his heart unto God in
private, I have nothing to object against it; my design being only to
assist and direct such as stand in need of this assistance.
It seems right for such an one to begin with a _form_ of prayer; and
if, in the midst of it he finds his heart ready to break forth into
other words, he may leave his _form_, and follow those fervours of his
heart, till it again want the assistance of his usual petitions.
*This seems to be the _true liberty_ of _private_ devotion: it may
be under the direction of some _form_; yet not so tied down to it,
but that it may be free to take such new expressions as its present
fervours furnish it with, which sometimes carry the soul more
powerfully to God, than any expressions that were ever used before.
9. Most people are changeable in regard to devotion. Sometimes our
hearts have such _strong_ apprehensions of the divine presence, and
are so full of compunction, that we cannot speak in any language but
that of _tears_.
Sometimes the light of God’s countenance shines so bright, we see so
far into the invisible world, we are so affected with the wonders of
the goodness of God, that our hearts worship in a language higher than
that of words, and we feel transports of devotion, which only can be
felt.
On the other hand, sometimes we are so sunk into our bodies, so _dull_
and _unaffected_ with that which concerns our souls, that we cannot
keep pace with our _forms_ of confession, or feel half of that in
our hearts, which we have in our mouths; we thank and praise God with
forms of words, but our hearts have little or no share in them.
We may provide against this _inconstancy_ of our hearts, by having at
hand such _forms_ of prayer, as may best suit us when our hearts are
in their _best_ state, and also be most likely to stir them up, when
they are _sunk_ into _dulness_.
10. The first thing you are to do, when you are upon your knees, is,
with a short _silence_, let your soul place itself in the presence
of God; use this, or some other method, to separate yourself from all
common thoughts, and make your heart as sensible as you can of the
divine presence.
Now, if this recollection of spirit is necessary, as who can say it is
not? How poorly must they perform their devotions, who are always in a
_hurry_; who begin them in haste, and hardly allow themselves time to
repeat their very _form_, with attention? Theirs is properly _saying_
prayers, instead of _praying_.
If you was to use yourself, as far as you can, to pray always in the
same place; if you was to reserve that place for devotion, and not
allow yourself to do any thing common in it; if you was never to be
there yourself, but in times of devotion; if any _little room_, or, if
that cannot be, if any particular _part_ of a room was thus used, this
kind of consecration of it, as a place _holy_ unto God, would much
assist your devotion.
11. It may be of use to you to observe this farther rule: when at any
time, either in reading the _scripture_, or any book of _piety_, you
meet with a passage, that more than ordinarily affects your mind, turn
it into the _form_ of a petition, and give it a place in your prayers.
At all the _stated hours_ of prayer, it may be of benefit to you, to
have something _fixed_, and something at _liberty_, in your devotions.
You may have some _fixed_ subject to be the chief matter of your
prayer at that particular time; and yet have liberty to add such
_other petitions_, as your condition may then require.
For instance; as the _morning_ is to you the beginning of a new
life; as God has then given you a new enjoyment of yourself, and a
fresh entrance into the world, it is highly proper that your _first_
devotions should be _praise_ and thanksgiving to God, as for a new
creation; and that you should devote _body_ and _soul_, all you _are_,
and all you _have_, to his service and glory.
Receive therefore every day, as a _resurrection_ from death, as a new
enjoyment of life; meet every _rising sun_ with such sentiments of
God’s goodness, as if you had seen it, and all things, _new created_
upon your account; and under the sense of so great a blessing, let
your heart praise and magnify so good and glorious a Creator.
Therefore _praise_ and _thanksgiving_, and _oblation_ of yourself to
God, may be the _fixed_ subject of your _first_ prayers in the morning;
and then take the liberty of adding such other devotions, as the
_accidental_ difference of your state, or the accidental difference of
your heart, shall direct.
12. *One of the greatest benefits of _private_ devotion, consists
in adapting our prayers to the difference of our _state_, and the
difference of our hearts.
*By the difference of our _state_, is meant the difference of our
_external state_, as of _sickness_, _health_, _pains_, _losses_,
_disappointments_, _troubles_, particular _mercies_ or _judgments_
from God, and all sorts of _kindnesses_, _injuries_, or _reproaches_
from other people.
Now, as these are great parts of our state of life, as they make
great difference in it, by continually changing; so our devotion
will be made doubly beneficial to us, when it watches to receive and
sanctify all these _changes_ of our state, and turns them all into
so many occasions of a more particular application to God, of such
thanksgivings, such resignation, such petitions, as our present state
more especially requires.
*And he that makes every change in his state, a reason of presenting
unto God some particular petitions suitable to that change, will soon
find, that he has taken an excellent means, not only of _praying_ with
fervour, but of _living_ as he prays.
13. *We are likewise always to adapt some part of our prayers to
the _difference_ of our _hearts_; by which is meant the different
tempers of our hearts, as of _love_, _joy_, _peace_, _tranquility_,
_dulness_ and _dryness_ of _spirit_, _anxiety_, _discontent_,
_motions_ of _envy_ and _ambition_, _dark_ and _disconsolate thoughts_,
_resentments_, _fretfulness_, and _peevish tempers_.
If we are in the delightful calm of sweet and easy passions, of _love_
and _joy_ in God, we should then offer the tribute of thanksgiving.
If, on the other hand, we feel ourselves laden with _heavy_ passions,
with _dulness_ of spirit, _anxiety_ and _uneasiness_, we must then
look up to God in acts of humility, confessing our unworthiness,
opening our troubles to him, beseeching him in his good time to lessen
our infirmities, and to deliver us from these passions.
By this wise application of our prayers, we shall get all the relief
from them that is possible; and the very _changeableness_ of our
hearts, will prove a means of exercising a greater variety of holy
tempers.
You will perceive by this, that persons ought to have a great share in
composing their own devotions.
As to that part of their prayers, which is always fixed, they may use
forms composed by other persons; but in that part which they are to
suit to the present _state_ of their _life_, and the _present_ state
of their _heart_, they must let the sense of their own condition help
them to such kinds of _petition_, _thanksgiving_, or _resignation_, as
their present state requires.
14. But it is amazing to see how ♦eagerly men employ their _parts_,
their _study_, _application_, and _exercise_; how all helps are called
to their assistance, when any thing is intended in worldly matters;
and how little they use their _parts_, _sagacity_, and abilities, to
raise and increase their devotion.
♦ ‘eargerly’ replaced with ‘eagerly’
*_Mandanus_ is a man of excellent parts, and clear apprehension.
He is well advanced in age, and has made a great figure in his
business. Every part of _trade_ that has fallen in his way, has had
some improvement from him; and he is always contriving to carry every
method of doing any thing well to its greatest height. _Mandanus_
aims at the greatest perfection in every thing. The _strength_ of his
mind, and his just way of thinking, make him intent upon removing all
imperfections.
He can tell you all the defects and errors in all the common methods,
whether of _trade_, _building_, or improving _land_ or _manufactures_.
The clearness and strength of his understanding, which he is
constantly improving, by continual exercise in these matters, by
often digesting his thoughts in writing, and trying every thing every
way, has rendered him a great master in most concerns in human life.
Thus has _Mandanus_ gone on, increasing his _knowledge_ and _judgment_,
as fast as his years came upon him.
The one thing which has not fallen under his improvement, nor received
any benefit from his judicious mind, is his _devotion_: this is just
in the same _poor_ state it was, when he was only six years of age;
and the _old man_ prays now in that little form of words which his
mother used to hear him repeat night and morning.
This _Mandanus_, that hardly ever saw the poorest _utensil_, or ever
took the meanest _trifle_ into his hand, without considering how
it might be _made_, or _used_ to better advantage, has gone all his
life-long praying in the same manner as when he was a child; without
ever considering how much _better_ or _oftner_ he might pray.
If _Mandanus_ sees a book of _devotion_, he passes it by, as he does
a _spelling-book_; because he remembers that he learned to _pray_ so
many years ago under his _mother_, when he learnt to _spell_.
Now, how poor and pitiable is the conduct of this man of sense, who
has so much judgment in every thing, but that which is the _whole
wisdom_ of man?
And how miserably do many people, more or less, imitate this conduct?
15. *_Classicus_ is a man of learning, and well versed in all the best
authors of antiquity. He has read them so much, that he has entered
into their spirit, and can imitate the manner of any of them. All
their thoughts are his thoughts, and he can express himself in their
language. He is so great a friend to this improvement of the mind,
that if he lights on a young scholar, he never fails to advise him
concerning his studies.
_Classicus_ tells his young man, he must not think he has done
enough, when he has only learnt _languages_; but that he must be daily
conversant with the best authors, read them again and again, catch
their spirit by living with them; and that there is no other way
of becoming like them, or of making himself a man of _taste_ and
_judgment_.
How wise might _Classicus_ have been, if he had but thought as
_justly_ of _devotion_, as he does of _learning_?
He never, indeed, says any thing _shocking_ or _offensive_ about
_devotion_, because he never _thinks_ or _talks_ about it. It suffers
nothing from him, but neglect and disregard.
The two testaments would not have had so much as a place amongst his
books, but that they are both to be had in _Greek_.
16. _Classicus_ thinks, he sufficiently shews his regard for the holy
scripture, when he tells you, that he has no other books of piety
besides them.
It is very well, _Classicus_, that you prefer the bible to all other
books of piety; he has no judgment, that is not thus far of your
opinion.
But if you will have no other book of piety besides the _bible_,
because it is the best, how comes it, _Classicus_, that you don’t
content yourself with _one_ of the _best_ books among the _Greeks_ and
_Romans_? How comes it that you are so eager after _all_ of them? How
comes it that you think the knowledge of one is a necessary help to
the knowledge of the other? How comes it that you are so earnest, so
laborious, so expensive of your time and money, to restore _broken
periods_, and _scraps_ of the ancients?
How comes it that you tell your _young scholar_, he must not content
himself with barely understanding his authors, but must be continually
reading them _all_, as the only means of entering into their spirit,
and forming his own judgment according to them?
Why then must the bible lie alone in your study? Is not the spirit of
the saints, the piety of the holy followers of Jesus Christ, as good
and necessary a means of entering into the spirit and _taste_ of the
gospel, as the reading of the ancients is of entering into the spirit
of antiquity?
Is your young poet to search after _every line_, that may give new
wings to his fancy, or direct his imagination? And is it not as
reasonable for him, who desires to improve in the divine life, to
search after every strain of devotion, that may move, kindle, and
inflame the holy ardour of his soul?
Do you advise your _orator_ to translate the best orations, to commit
much of them to memory, to be frequently exercising his talent in this
manner, that habits of thinking and speaking justly may be formed in
his mind? And is there not the same advantage to be made by books of
devotion? Should not a man use them in the same way, that habits of
devotion, and aspiring to God in holy thoughts, may be well formed in
his soul?
Now the reason why _Classicus_ does not _think_ and judge thus
reasonably of devotion, is owing to his never thinking of it in any
other manner, than as the repeating a _form_ of _words_. It never in
his life entered into his head, to think of devotion as a _state of
the heart_, as a _temper_ that is to _grow_ and _increase_ like our
_reason_ and _judgment_, and to be formed in us by such a diligent use
of proper means, as are necessary to form any other wise habit of mind.
And it is for want of this, that he has been content all his life with
the _bare letter_ of prayer, and eagerly bent upon entering into the
_spirit_ of _Heathen poets_ and _orators_.
And it is much to be lamented, that numbers of _scholars_ are
_more_ or _less_ chargeable with this excessive folly; so negligent
of improving their devotion, and so desirous of other poor
accomplishments, as if they thought it a nobler talent, to be able
to write an _epigram_ in the _turn_ of _Martial_, than to _live_, and
_think_, and _pray_ to God, in the spirit of St. _Austin_.
And yet if you was to ask _Mandanus_ and _Classicus_, or any man of
business or learning, whether _piety_ is not the highest perfection
of man, or _devotion_ the greatest attainment in the world, they must
both be forced to answer in the affirmative, or else give up the truth
of the gospel.
17. Devotion is nothing else but _right apprehensions_ and _right
affections_ towards God.
All practices therefore that improve our true apprehensions of
God, all ways of life that tend to _nourish_, _raise_, and fix our
affections upon him, are to be reckoned so many helps and means of
devotion.
As _prayer_ is the proper fuel of this holy flame, so we must use all
our care to give prayer its full power; as by _alms_, _self-denial_,
frequent _retirements_, and _holy readings_, composing _forms_
for ourselves, or using the _best_ we can get, adding _length_ of
time, and observing _hours_ of prayer; _changing_, _improving_, and
_suiting_ our devotions to the condition of our lives, and the state
of our hearts.
Those who have most leisure, seem more especially called to a more
eminent observance of this; and they, who by the necessity of their
state, have but little time to employ thus, must make the best use of
that little they have.
18. There is one thing more I would advise; and that is, to begin your
prayers with a _psalm_.
I don’t mean, that you should _read_ over a psalm, but that you should
_chant_ or _sing_ one.
The difference between singing and reading a psalm, will be easily
understood, if you consider the difference between reading and singing
a _common song_ that you like. Whilst you only read it, you only
_like_ it; but as soon as you _sing_ it, you feel the _same spirit_
within you, that there seems to be in the words.
You will perhaps say, you cannot sing.
This objection might be of weight, if you was desired to sing to
entertain other people; but it is not to be admitted in the present
case, where you are only advised to sing the praises of God in private.
Do but so live, that your heart may truly rejoice in God, that it may
feel itself affected with the praises of God; and then you will find,
that this state of your heart will neither want a voice, nor ear, to
find a tune for a psalm.
19. *The union of soul and body, is not a mixture of their substances,
as we see bodies united and mixed together, but consists solely in the
mutual power that they have of acting upon one another.
*If two persons were in such a state of dependance upon one another,
that neither of them could act, or move, or think, or feel, or suffer,
or desire any thing, without putting the other into the same condition,
one might properly say, that they were in a state of strict union,
altho’ their substances were not united together.
*Now this is the union of the soul and body; the substance of the one
cannot be mixed or united with the other; but they are held together
in such a state of union, that all the actions and sufferings of the
one, are at the same time the actions and sufferings of the other. The
soul has no thought or passion, but the body is concerned in it; the
body has no action or motion, but what, in some degree, affects the
soul.
Now, as it is the sole will of God, that is the _cause_ of all the
powers and effects which you see in the world; as the _sun_ gives
light and heat, not because it has any natural power of so doing;
as it is fixed in a certain place, and other bodies moving about it;
not because it is in the nature of the sun to stand still, and in
the nature of other bodies to move about it; but merely because it is
the _will_ of God, that they should be in such a state: as the _eye_
is the organ, or instrument of seeing, not because the _skins_, and
_coats_, and _humours_ of the eye, have a natural power of giving
sight: as the ears are the organs, or instruments of hearing, not
because the _make_ of the ear has any natural power over sounds, but
merely because it is the will of God, that _seeing_ and _hearing_
should be thus received; so it is the sole will of God, that is the
cause of this union betwixt the soul and the body.
20. If you rightly apprehend this short account of the union of the
soul and body, you will see a great deal into the reason of all the
outward parts of religion.
This union of our souls and bodies, is the reason both why we have
so little and so much power over ourselves. It is owing to this, that
we have so little power over our souls: for as we cannot prevent the
effects of external objects upon our bodies; as we cannot command
outward causes; so we cannot always command the inward state of our
minds; because, as outward objects act upon our bodies without our
leave, so our bodies act upon our minds by the laws of the union vital.
And thus you see it is owing to this union, that we have so _little_
power over ourselves.
On the other hand, it is owing to this union, that we have so _much_
power over ourselves. For as our souls in a great measure depend
upon our bodies; and as we have great power over these; as we can
mortify our bodies, and remove ourselves from objects that inflame
our passions; so we have a great power over the _inward_ state of our
souls. Again, as the outward acts of reading, praying, singing, and
the like, have an effect upon the soul; so by being masters of these
outward, bodily actions, we have great power over the inward state of
the heart.
And thus it is owing to this union, that we have so much power over
ourselves.
Now from this you may see the benefit of singing psalms, and of all
the outward acts of religion; for if the body has so much power over
the soul, all such bodily actions as affect the soul, are of great
weight in religion, because they are proper to support that _spirit_,
which is the true worship of God.
21. This doctrine may be easily carried too far; for by calling in too
many outward means of worship, it may degenerate into superstition.
But some have fallen into the contrary extreme. Because religion is
justly placed in the heart, they renounce vocal prayer, and other
outward acts of worship, and resolve all religion into a _quietism_,
or _mystic_ intercourse with God in silence.
But since we are neither _all soul_, nor _all body_; seeing none of
our actions are either separately of the soul, or separately of the
body; if we would truly prostrate ourselves before God, we must use
our bodies to postures of lowliness. If we desire true fervours of
devotion, we must make prayer the frequent labour of our lips. If we
would feel inward joy and delight in God, we must practise all the
outward acts of it, and make our voices call upon our hearts.
Now therefore, you may plainly see the reason of _singing of psalms_;
it is because outward actions are necessary to support inward tempers.
22. I have been the longer upon this head, because of its importance
to true religion. For there is no state of mind so excellent, as
that of _thankfulness_ to God; and consequently, nothing is of more
importance than that which exercises and improves this habit of mind.
*An _uneasy_, _complaining_ spirit, which is sometimes the spirit of
those that seem careful of religion, is yet of all tempers the most
contrary to religion; for it disowns that God which it pretends to
adore. For he sufficiently disowns God, who does not adore him as a
being of infinite goodness.
*If a man does not believe that all the world is as God’s family,
where nothing happens by chance, but all is guided and directed by
the care and providence of a being that is all love and goodness to
all his creatures; if a man does not believe this from his heart, he
cannot be said to believe in God. And yet he that has this faith, has
faith enough to be always thankful to God. For he that believes every
thing happens to him for the _best_, cannot complain for the want of
something that is _better_.
If therefore you live in murmurings and complaints, it is not because
you are a weak, infirm creature, but it is because you want the first
principle of religion, a right belief in God. For as thankfulness
is an express acknowledgement of the goodness of God towards you; so
repinings and complaints are as plain accusations of God’s want of
goodness towards you.
*On the other hand, would you know who is the greatest saint in the
world? It is not he who _prays_ most, or _fasts_ most; it is not he
who gives most _alms_, or is most eminent for temperance, chastity,
or justice; but it is he who is _always thankful_ to God, who _wills_
every thing that God _willeth_, who receives every thing as an
instance of God’s goodness, and has a heart always ready to praise God
for it.
All prayer and devotion, fastings and repentance, meditation and
retirement, all sacraments and ordinances, are but so many means to
render the soul thus conformable to the will of God, and to fill it
with thankfulness and praise for every thing that comes from God. This
is the perfection of all virtues; and all virtues that do not tend to
it, or proceed from it, are but so many false ornaments of a soul not
converted unto God.
23. If any one would tell you the shortest, surest way to all
happiness, he must tell you to _thank and praise God for every thing
that happens to you_. For whatever seeming calamity happens, if you
thank and praise God for it, you turn it into a blessing. Could you
therefore work miracles, you could not do more for yourself, than by
this _thankful spirit_; for it _heals_ with a word speaking, and turns
all that it touches into happiness.
If therefore you would be so true to your interest, as to propose
this _thankfulness_ as the end of all your religion; if you would but
settle it in your mind, that this was the state that you was to aim at
by all your devotions, you would then have something plain and visible
to walk by, and might judge of your improvement in piety. For so far
as you renounce all motions of your own will, and seek for no other
happiness, but in the thankful reception of every thing that happens
to you, so far you have advanced in piety.
And altho’ this be the highest temper that you can aim at; yet it is
not tied to any _time_, or _place_, or _great_ occasion, but is always
in your power, and may be the exercise of every day. For the _common
events_ of every day are sufficient to discover and exercise this
temper, and may plainly shew you how far you are governed in all your
actions by this thankful spirit.
24. It may perhaps be objected, that tho’ the benefit of this practice
is apparent; yet it seems not so fit for _private_ devotions, since it
can hardly be performed without making our devotions public.
It is answered, _first_, that great numbers of people have it in their
power to be as private as they please; such persons therefore are
excluded from this excuse.
_Secondly_, Numbers of people are by the _necessity_ of their state,
as _servants_, _apprentices_, _prisoners_, and _families_ in small
houses, forced to be continually in the presence of somebody or other.
Now are such persons to neglect their prayers, because they cannot
pray without being seen? Are they not rather obliged to be more exact
in them, that others may not be witnesses of their neglect, and so
corrupted by their example?
And what is here said of devotion, may surely be said of _singing a
psalm_.
The rule is this: Don’t pray that you _may be seen_ of men; but if
your _confinement_ obliges you to be always in the sight of others,
be more afraid of being seen to _neglect_, than of being seen to have
_recourse_ to prayer.
_Thirdly_, Either people can use such privacy in this practice, as
to have no hearers, or they cannot. If they can, then this objection
vanishes as to them; and if they cannot, they should consider
their _confinement_, and the _necessities_ of their state, as the
confinement of a _prison_; and then have an excellent _pattern_ to
follow: they may imitate St. _Paul_ and _Silas_, who _sang praises to
God in prison_, tho’ we are expresly told, that the _prisoners heard
them_. They did not refrain this kind of devotion, for fear of being
heard by others. If therefore any one is in the same necessity, either
in _prison_ or out of prison, what can he do better, than to follow
this example?
_Fourthly_, The _privacy_ of our prayers is not _destroyed_ by our
_having_, but by our _seeking_ witnesses of them.
If therefore nobody hears you but those you cannot separate yourself
from, you are as much in _secret_, and _your Father who seeth in
secret_, will as truly reward your secrecy, as if you was seen by him
alone.