2. Q. _What learn you hence?_
_A._ That every unprofitable servant, and all mere professing
christians, will perish; and that those who are true
christians must expect afflictions and trials to prepare them
for greater services.
9. Q. _What learn you hence?_
_A._ That the world hates christians on account of their
conformity to CHRIST; therefore if christians will be
conformed to CHRIST, it is impossible for them to avoid
contempt.
22. Q. _What is meant by that expression, “they had not had sin”?_
_A._ They would not have had so great sin; or no sin at all in
comparison of what they will have now.
_LAW_ GOSPELIZED;
OR, AN
ADDRESS
TO
ALL CHRISTIANS
CONCERNING
HOLINESS of HEART and LIFE:
BEING
An Attempt to render Mr. LAW’s _Serious Call_ more useful
to the Children of GOD, by excluding whatever is not truly
Evangelical, and illustrating the subject more fully from the
Holy Scriptures.
_He hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world,
that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love._
Ephesians i. 4.
_LAW_ GOSPELIZED;
OR, AN
ADDRESS to all CHRISTIANS
CONCERNING
HOLINESS of HEART and LIFE.
CHAPTER I.¹
_The Nature and Extent of Christian Devotion._
¹ By Letter 640, Volume II. page 144. it appears that this
tract was written about _June 1748_.
CHRISTIAN devotion, signifies a life given or devoted to GOD; he
consequently, and he alone, is the _devout man_, who lives no longer to
his own will, or after the way and spirit of the world, but to the sole
will of GOD; who considers GOD in every thing; who makes all the parts
of his common life, as well as his more immediate religious exercises,
parts of piety, by doing every thing in the name of JESUS CHRIST, and
under such rules as are conducive to promote GOD’s glory.
Reason and scripture plainly evince the truth of this. For as there is
but “one GOD and Father of us all,” whose glory gives light and life
to every thing that lives; whose presence fills all places, whose power
supports all beings, whose providence ruleth all events; so every thing
that lives, whether in _heaven_ or _earth_, whether they be thrones or
principalities, men or angels, they are all bound, by the laws of their
creation, to live wholly to the praise and glory of this one God and
Father of them all.
We readily acknowledge, that GOD alone is to be the rule and measure
of our prayers; that in them we are to look wholly unto him, and act
wholly for him; that we are only to pray in such a manner, and for such
things, and with such ends as are suitable to his glory.
Now let any one but find out the reason why he is to be thus strictly
pious in his prayers, and he will find the same, as strong a reason,
why he is to be as strictly pious in all the other parts of his life:
for were it not our strict duty to live by reason, and to devote all
the actions of our lives to GOD; were it not absolutely necessary, and
our highest privilege to walk before him in wisdom and holiness, and
all heavenly conversation, doing every thing in his name, and for his
glory, there would be no excellency and wisdom in the most heavenly
prayers. Nay, such prayers would be absurdities, they would be like
praying for wings, when it was no part of our duty to fly.
Again, we readily acknowledge, that _Clergymen_ must live wholly unto
GOD in one particular way, in the exercise of _holy offices_; in the
ministration of prayers and sacraments, and a zealous distribution of
spiritual things: but men of other employments, are in their particular
ways as much obliged to act as the servants of GOD, and to live wholly
unto him in their several callings. For as all christians are by their
baptism devoted to GOD, and made professors of holiness; so are they
all in their several callings, to live as holy and heavenly persons;
doing every thing in _common life_, only in such a manner as it may be
received by GOD, as a service done to him.
Further, it will be readily acknowledged on all sides, that angels,
whether they are principalities or powers, must all with one spirit,
live wholly to the praise and glory of the one GOD and Father of them
all; and that it is not allowable for, or becoming them, to act below
the dignity of their proper state. And is not a devout life, and a wise
use of our proper condition, as much the duty of all _christians_, as
it is the duty of _angels_ and celestial beings? Our blessed Saviour
has cleared up this point, by making this petition a constant part of
all our prayers, “Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” A
plain proof, that the obedience of _christians_, is to imitate at least
the obedience of _angels_; and that rational beings on earth, are to
be wholly devoted unto GOD, in like manner as rational beings in heaven
are devoted to him.
These are not speculative flights, or imaginary notions, but are plain
and undeniable truths, founded in the very nature of rational beings,
and upon the infallible testimony of the lively oracles of GOD.
It is but barely complying with that apostolical precept, “Whether ye
eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of GOD.” For no
one can come near the doctrine of this passage, but he that proposes to
himself to do every thing in this life, as a servant of GOD; to live by
reason in every thing that he does; and to make the wisdom and holiness
of the gospel, and the glory of GOD, the rule and measure of his
desiring and using every gift of GOD.
Eating is one of the lowest actions of our lives; it is common to
us with mere animals: yet we see, that this text, as well as by the
practice of christians in all ages, has turned this ordinary action of
an animal life, into an act of piety to GOD, by making every meal to
begin and end with devotion.
Some remains of this custom are yet to be seen in most christian
families; but indeed it is now generally so performed, as to look more
like a mockery upon devotion, than any solemn application of the mind
unto GOD. However, these very remains, such as they are, are proofs,
that religion has formerly belonged to this, and consequently to every
other part of common life.
But to return. The same Apostle, in his epistle to the _Ephesians_,
commands servants “to be obedient to their masters in singleness of
heart, as unto CHRIST; not with eye service, as men-pleasers, but as
the servants of CHRIST, doing the will of GOD from the heart: with
good-will doing service as unto the LORD, and not unto men.” This
passage sufficiently shews, that all christians are to live wholly
unto GOD, in every state and condition of life, doing the work of their
common calling in such a manner, and for such ends, as to make it a
part of their devotion or service to GOD. For if _poor slaves_ are
not to comply with their business as men-pleasers; if they are to
look wholly unto GOD in all their actions, and serve in singleness of
heart, as unto the LORD; surely men of other employments and conditions,
must be as much obliged to go through their business with the same
singleness of heart, not as pleasing the vanity of their own minds, nor
as gratifying their own selfish, worldly passions, but as the servants
of GOD in all that they have to do. To deny this, would be as absurd,
as to make it necessary for one man to be more just or faithful than
another.
To close these arguments founded on reason and scripture. Our being
indispensably obliged to devote our lives to GOD, is very evident from
that glorious passage of the Apostle, wherein he declares that “CHRIST
died and rose again, that we should henceforth not live unto ourselves,
but unto him that died for us; that we are not our own, but bought with
a price,” emphatically so called, and that we should “therefore glorify
GOD in our souls and bodies which are his.”
If then we desire to live as rational creatures, if we would not add
_heathen lives_ to christian prayers, if we would perform our baptismal
vow, and do GOD’s will on earth as it is done in heaven; if we would
comply with the whole will of GOD, and answer the end of our blessed
LORD’s birth, death, resurrection, and ascension, we must live wholly
to GOD, and make his glory the sole rule and measure of our acting in
every employment of life.
For want of knowing, or at least of considering this, we see such a
mixture of ridicule in the lives of many people. You see them strict
as to some times and places of devotion; but when the service of the
church is over, they are like those who seldom or never come there.
In their way of life, their manner of spending both time and money,
in their cares and fears, in their pleasures and indulgences, in their
labours and diversions, they are like the rest of the world. This makes
the loose part of the world generally make a jest of those that are
thus seemingly devout; not altogether it may be because they are really
devoted to GOD, but because they appear to have no other devotion, but
that of occasional prayers.
_Julius_ is very fearful of missing prayers; all the parish suppose
_Julius_ to be sick, if he is not at church. But if you ask him, why
he spends the rest of his time by humour or _chance_? Why he is busy at
all balls and assemblies? Why he gives himself up to an idle gossipping
conversation? If you ask him, why he never puts his conversation,
his time, and fortune, under the rules of religion? _Julius_ has no
more to say for himself, than the most disorderly person. For he that
lives in such a course of idleness and folly, lives no more according
to the religion of JESUS CHRIST, than he who lives in gluttony and
intemperance.
Our blessed Saviour and his Apostles did not spend their whole ministry
in recommending the duties of public and private prayers; though by
their example and precepts they recommended and enforced both; but
it is worthy our observation, that after they had laid down a lively
faith in GOD’s mercy through JESUS CHRIST, as the foundation, they were
chiefly taken up in delivering doctrines which relate to common life.
For they call upon us “to renounce the world, so as not to be conformed
to it: To fear none of its evils, to reject its joys, and have no value
for its happiness: To be as _new-born babes_, that are born into a new
state of things; to live as _pilgrims_, in spiritual watching, in holy
fear, and heavenly aspirations after another life: To take up our daily
cross, to deny ourselves, to profess the blessedness of holy mourning,
and poverty of spirit: To reject the lust of the flesh, the lust of
the eye, and the pride of life, so as not to follow or be led by them:
To take no anxious thought for the morrow; to live in the profoundest
state of humility; to rejoice in worldly sufferings and injuries, when
it pleases GOD to bring them upon us; to forgive and bless our enemies,
and to love mankind in the same manner, though not degree, as GOD loves
them. In short, to give up our whole hearts and affections to GOD, even
a GOD in CHRIST, and to strive to enter through the strait gate of a
sound conversion into a life of eternal glory.”
This is the _common devotion_, which our blessed Saviour and his
Apostles taught, in order to make it the common life of all christians.
But yet, though it is thus plain, that this, and this alone, is true
christianity, yet it is as plain, that there is little or nothing of
this to be found, not only among professed rakes, but even among the
better and more sober sort of people. You may see them often at public
worship, and the LORD’s table, and hear them talking of grace and
religion, and find them pleased with orthodox preachers; but look into
their lives, and you see them just the same sort of people as others
are, who make no pretences to devotion at all. So that the difference
that you find between them, seems to be only the difference of natural
tempers, or the effect of a polite and civilized education.
_Leo_ has a great deal of good nature, has kept what they call good
company, hates every thing that is false and base, is very generous and
brave to his friends, but has concerned himself so little with religion,
that he hardly knows the difference between a _Jew_ and a christian.
_Eusebius_, on the other hand, has had early impressions of religion,
sometimes prays extempore, and buys books of devotion, and receives
the blessed sacrament once a month. He can talk of all the doctrines
of grace, is acquainted with the true state of the controversy between
the _Calvinists_ and _Arminians_, knows all the feasts and fasts of
the church, and the names of most men that have been eminent for piety.
You never hear him swear, or make a loose jest, and when he talks of
religion, he talks of it, as a matter of the last concern.
Here you see, that one person has religion enough, according to the way
of the world, to be reckoned a _pious christian_; and the other is so
far from all appearance of religion, that he may fairly be reckoned an
_heathen_; and yet if you look into their common life, you will find
_Eusebius_ and _Leo_ exactly alike; seeking, using, and enjoying, all
that can be gotten in this world, in the same manner, and for the same
ends, even to please themselves, without any prevailing habitual regard
to the glory of GOD. You will find that riches, prosperity, pleasures,
indulgences, state, equipage, and honour, are just as much the
happiness of _Eusebius_, as they are of _Leo_.
And must not all who are capable of any reflection, readily acknowledge,
that this is generally the state even of what we commonly term _devout
people_, whether men or women? You may see them different from some
others, as to times and places of worship, receiving the sacrament,
and with a doctrinal knowledge of the form of sound words; but usually
like the rest of the world in all the other parts of their lives. Is it
not notorious, that christians are now not only like other men in their
frailties and infirmities, (this might be in some degree excusable,
since the scriptures inform us, that _Elijah_ was a man of like
passions with others) but are they not like heathens, in all the main
and chief articles of their lives? Do they not enjoy the world, and
live every day with the same indulgence as they did who knew not GOD,
nor of any happiness in another life?
And yet, if christianity has not changed a man’s mind and temper, with
relation to these things, what can we say that it has done for him? For
if the doctrines of christianity were universally practised, they would
make a man as different from other people, as to all worldly tempers,
sensual pleasures, and the pride of life, as a wise man is different
from an ideot; and it would be almost as easy a thing to know a true
professor of christianity, by his outward course of life, as it is now
difficult to find any body that lives it.
CHAPTER II.
_Persons free from the necessities of labour
and employments, are to consider themselves
as devoted to GOD in a higher degree._
AS it has been proved in the foregoing chapter, that all professors of
christianity, do lie under manifold obligations to live a life wholly
devoted unto GOD; so those who have no _particular employment_, but
have their time and fortune at their own disposal, are under still
greater obligations of living wholly unto GOD in all their actions.
They are those, of whom “much will be required, because much is given
unto them.”
A _slave_ can only live unto GOD in one particular way; that is, by
religious patience and submission in his state of slavery; but all
ways of holy living, all instances, and all kinds of virtue lie open to
those, who are masters of themselves, of their time, and their fortune.
You are no _labourer_ or _tradesman_; you are neither _merchant_ nor
_soldier_; should you not therefore consider yourself, as placed in a
state, in some degree like that of good angels, who are sent into the
world as ministring spirits, for the general good of mankind, to assist,
protect, and minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?
Had you, _Serena_, been obliged by the necessities of life, to wash
cloaths for your maintenance, or to wait upon some mistress, that
demanded all your labour, it would then be your duty to serve and
glorify GOD, by such humility, obedience, and faithfulness, as might
adorn that state, and improve that one talent to its greatest height:
but as GOD hath given you five talents; as he hath placed you above
the necessities of life; as he hath left you in the hands of yourself,
in the happy liberty of chusing the most exalted ways of religion; so
it is now your duty and privilege to turn your five talents into five
more; to set no bounds to your love and gratitude to the bountiful
Author of so many blessings; and to consider how your time, leisure,
health, and fortune, may be made so many happy means of improving your
fellow-creatures in the ways of GOD, and of advancing yourself, through
grace, at last to the greatest heights of eternal glory.
This, _Serena_, is indeed your profession: and the reason of this will
appear very plain, if you would only consider, that your estate is as
much the gift of GOD, as your eyes or hands; and is therefore no more
to be buried or thrown away at pleasure, than you are to put out your
eyes, or throw away your limbs as you please.
But besides these considerations, there are several other great and
important reasons, why all christians in general, and such as I am now
speaking of in particular, should be religiously exact in the use of
their fortunes for the glory of GOD.
For the manner of using our money, and spending our estate, enters
so far into the business of every day, that our common life must
necessarily be much of the same nature as our common way of spending
our estate. If we waste it, we do not waste a trifle, that signifies
little; but we waste that which might be made as eyes to the blind, as
a husband to the widow, as a father to the orphan; and which, if given
in faith, and out of love to JESUS CHRIST, would greatly increase our
reward in a future state. “Make to yourselves friends (says our Saviour)
of the mammon of unrighteousness, that when you fail, they may receive
you into everlasting habitations.” What still adds weight to these
arguments, is this, if we waste our money, and do not improve our
fortunes for the glory of GOD, and the good of our fellow-creatures,
we are not only guilty of wasting a talent which GOD has given us, and
making that useless which might be so powerful a means of doing good,
but we turn this useful talent into a powerful means of corrupting
ourselves. For so far as it is spent wrong, so far it is spent in the
support of some wrong temper, in gratifying some vain and unreasonable
desires, in conforming to those fashions, and that pride of the world,
which as reasonable men and christians we are obliged to renounce. If
therefore, you do not spend your money in doing good to others, you
must spend it to the hurt of yourself. And you will act like a man that
refuses to give that as a cordial to a sick friend, though he could not
drink it himself, without not only inflaming, but corrupting his whole
mass of blood.
It may be worth our while to pursue this thought a little further.
For as we are now discoursing about people in the polite world, and of
good fortunes, who we may suppose do not live in gross sins, but only
in the indiscreet and dangerous use of things innocent and lawful in
themselves, so it is more difficult to make such people at all sensible
of the danger of such a life.
A gentleman that spends great part of his estate in sports, and a woman
that lays out all her fortune upon herself, can hardly be persuaded,
that the spirit of religion cannot subsist in such a way of life. Much
less will they be easily convinced, that such a turn of mind, however
they may live free from debaucheries, and be friends of religion, so
far as to praise, speak well of, and admire it in their imaginations,
will give a bad turn to their whole way of life. But it is certainly so.
A woman, for instance, that loves dress, who thinks no expence too
great to bestow upon the adorning of her person, cannot stop there.
For that single temper draws a thousand other follies along with
it; and will render the whole course of her life, her business,
her conversation, her hopes, her fears, her taste, her pleasures,
and diversions, all suitable to it. On the contrary, a lady who is
habitually dead to the things of the world, and has devoted her time
and fortune to GOD; such a one will let her whole life be a continued
series of good actions, as may benefit her own and others souls, and
consequently adorn the gospel of her LORD and Saviour JESUS CHRIST.
_Flavia_, and _Miranda_, are two maiden sisters, that have each of them
two hundred pounds a year. They buried their father twenty years ago,
and have since that time spent their estate as they pleased.
_Flavia_ has been the wonder of all her friends, for her excellent
management, in making so surprizing a figure with so moderate a fortune.
Several ladies that have twice her fortune, are not able to be always
so genteel, and so constant at all places of what she calls innocent
pleasure and expence. She has every thing in the fashion, and is in
every place where there is any diversion. _Flavia_ is very _orthodox_;
she talks warmly against _heretics_ and _schismatics_, is generally at
church, and often at the sacrament. She once commended a sermon that
was against the pride and vanity of dress, and thought it was very just
against _Lucinda_, whom she takes to be a great deal finer than she
need to be. Should any one ask _Flavia_ to do something in charity;
if she likes the person who makes the proposal, or happens to be in a
right temper, she will toss him half a crown or a crown, and tell him,
that if he knew what a _long millener’s bill_ she had just received, he
would think it a great deal for her to give. A quarter of a year after
this, she hears a sermon upon the necessity of charity; she thinks the
man preaches well, that it is a very proper subject, and that people
want much to be put in mind of it; but she applies nothing to herself,
because she remembers that she gave a crown some time ago, when she
could so ill spare it.
As for poor people, she will admit of no complaints from them; she is
very positive they are all cheats and liars, and will say any thing to
get relief, and therefore it must be a sin to encourage them in their
evil ways.
You would think that _Flavia_ had the tenderest conscience in the world,
if you was to see how scrupulous and apprehensive she is of the guilt
and danger of giving amiss.
She buys all books of wit and humour, and has made an expensive
collection of all our _English Poets_; for she says, one cannot have
a true taste of any of them, without being very conversant with all.
She will sometimes read a book of piety, if it is a short one, and if
it is much commended for stile and language, and she can tell where to
borrow it.
_Flavia_ is very idle, and yet very fond of fine work: this makes her
very often sit working in bed until noon, and will be told many a long
story before she is up; so that I need not tell you, that her morning
devotions are not always rightly performed.
_Flavia_ would be a miracle of piety, if she was but half so careful of
her soul, as she is of her body. The rising of a pimple in her face, or
the sting of a gnat, will make her keep her room two or three days; and
she thinks they are very rash people, that do not take care of things
in time. This makes her so over careful of her health, that she never
thinks she is well enough; and so over indulgent, that she never can
be really well. So that it costs her a great deal in sleeping draughts,
and waking draughts, in spirits for the head, in drops for the nerves,
in cordials for the stomach, and in saffron for her tea.
If you visit _Flavia_ on the LORD’s day, you will always meet good
company; you will know what is doing in the world, and who is meant by
every name that is in it. You will hear what plays were acted that week,
and which is the finest song in the opera; who was intolerable at the
last assembly, and what games are most in fashion. _Flavia_ thinks they
are _Atheists_ who play at cards on the _Sunday_; but she will tell you
the nicety of all the games, what cards she held, how she played them,
and the history of all that happened at play, as soon as she comes from
church. If you would know who is rude and ill-natured, who is vain and
foppish, who lives too high, and who is in debt; if you would know what
is the quarrel at a certain house, or who and who are in love; if you
would know how late _Belinda_ comes home at night, what cloaths she
has bought, how she loves compliments, and what a long story she told
at such a place; if you would know how cross _Lucius_ is to his wife,
and what ill-natured things he says to her, when no body hears him; if
you would know how they hate one another in their hearts, though they
appear so kind in public; you must visit _Flavia_ on the _Sunday_. But
still, she has so great a regard for the holiness of the _Sunday_, that
she has turned a poor old widow out of her house, as a prophane wretch,
for having been found once mending her cloaths on the _Sunday_ night.
Thus lives _Flavia_; and if she lives ten years longer, she will have
spent about fifteen hundred and sixty _Sundays_ after this manner; and
she will have worn about two hundred different suits of cloaths. Out
of these _thirty years_ of her life, _fifteen_ of them will have been
disposed of in bed; and of the remaining _fifteen_, about _fourteen_
of them will have been consumed in eating, drinking, dressing, visiting,
conversation, reading and hearing plays and romances, and attending
at operas, assemblies, balls and diversions. For you may reckon all
the time she is up, to be thus spent, except about an hour and a half,
that is disposed of at church, most _Sundays_ in the year. With great
management, and under mighty rules of œconomy, she will have spent
_six_ thousand pounds upon herself, except some few shillings, crowns
or half crowns, that have gone from her in accidental charities.
I shall not take upon me to say, that it is impossible for Flavia
_ever_ to be saved; but thus much must be said, that she has no grounds
from scripture to think she is at present in the way of salvation.
For her whole life is in direct opposition to all those tempers and
practices, which the gospel has made necessary to salvation.
If you was to hear her say, that she had lived all her life like _Anna_
the prophetess, “who departed not from the temple, but served GOD with
fastings and prayers night and day,” you would look upon her as very
extravagant; and yet this would be no greater an extravagance, than
for her to say, that she had been “striving to enter in at the strait
gate,” or making any one doctrine or precept of the gospel, a rule of
her life.
She may as well say, that she lived with our Saviour when he was upon
earth, as that she has lived in imitation of him, or made it any part
of her care to live in such tempers, as he required of all those that
would be his disciples. She may as truly say, that she has every day
_washed the Saints feet_, as that she has lived in christian humility
and _poverty of spirit_; and as reasonably think, that she has taught
a _charity school_, as that she has lived in works of charity. She hath
as much reason to think, that she has been a _centinel_ in an army, as
that she has lived in watching and self-denial. And it may as fairly
be said, that she had lived by the labour of her hands, as that she had
given all diligence to make her calling and election sure.
Now though the irregular trifling spirit of this character, belongs I
hope but to few people, yet many may here learn some instruction from
it, and perhaps see something of their own spirit in it.
But not so _Miranda_ (the sister of _Flavia_); she is a sober
reasonable christian. As soon as she was mistress of her time and
fortune, it was her first thought, how she might best fulfil every
thing that GOD required of her in the use of them, and how she might
make the best and happiest use of this short life. She depends upon the
truth of what our blessed LORD hath said, “that there is but one thing
needful,” and therefore makes her whole life but one continual labour
after it. She has but one reason for doing or not doing, for liking or
not liking any thing, and that is the will of GOD. She is not so weak,
as to pretend to add, what is frequently falsely called the _fine lady_,
to the _true christian_; _Miranda_ thinks too well, to be taken with
the sound of such silly words; she has renounced the world, to follow
CHRIST in the exercise of humility, charity, devotion, abstinence, and
heavenly affections; and that is _Miranda_’s fine breeding.
Whilst she was under her mother, she was forced to live in ceremony,
to sit up late at night, to be in the folly of every fashion, and
always visiting on _Sundays_; to go patched, and loaded with a burden
of _finery_, to the holy sacrament; to be in every polite conversation;
to hear prophaneness at the play-house, and wanton songs and love
intrigues at the opera; to dance at public places, that fops and rakes
might admire the fineness of her shape, and the beauty of her motions.
The remembrance of this way of life is very grievous to her, and makes
her exceeding careful to give evidences of her unfeigned repentance, by
a contrary behaviour.
_Miranda_ does not divide her duty between GOD, her neighbour, and
herself; but she considers all as due to GOD, and so does every thing
in his name and for his sake. This makes her consider her fortune as
the gift of GOD, that is to be used as is every thing that belongs to
GOD, for the wise and reasonable ends of a christian and holy life:
her fortune therefore is divided between herself and the poor, and she
has only her reasonable part of relief from it. For she thinks it the
same folly to indulge herself in needless, vain expences, as to give to
other people to spend in the same way.
This is the spirit of _Miranda_, and thus she uses the gifts of GOD. If
you was to see her, you would wonder who it was that was so surprizing
and unaffectedly neat and clean; for every thing about her resembles
the purity of her soul, and she is always clean without, because she
always studies to be pure within.
Every morning sees her early at her prayers; she rejoices in the
beginning of every day, because it begins all her pious rules of holy
living, and brings the fresh pleasure of repeating them. She seems
to be as a guardian angel to those that dwell about her, with her
watchings and prayers blessing the place where she dwells, and making
intercession with GOD for those that are asleep.
Her devotions have had some intervals, and she has had reason to think
that GOD hath answered several of her private prayers, before the light
hath entered into her sister’s room. _Miranda_ does not know what it
is to have a dull half-day; the returns of her hours of prayer, and
her religious exercises, come too often to let any considerable part
of time lie heavy upon her hands.
When you see her at work, you see the same wisdom that governs all
her other actions; she is either doing something that is necessary for
herself, or necessary for others, who want to be assisted. Her wise
and pious mind neither wants the amusement, nor can bear with the folly
of idle and impertinent work; she can admit of no such folly as this
in the day, because she is to call herself to an account for all her
actions in her secret retirement at night.
At her _table_ she lives strictly by this rule of holy scripture,
“whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of
GOD.” This makes her begin and end every meal, as she begins and ends
every day, with acts of devotion: she does not indeed weigh her meat in
a pair of scales, but she weighs it in a much better balance; so much
as gives a proper strength to her body, and renders it able and willing
to obey the soul, is _Miranda’s meal._
The holy scriptures, especially of the New Testament, are her daily
study. When she has this in her hand, she supposes herself at the feet
of our Saviour and his apostles, and receives their sacred words with
as much attention and reverence, as if she saw their persons, and knew
that they were just come from heaven, on purpose to teach her the way
that leads to it. Nor does she content herself barely with reading the
scriptures; but in reading, constantly casts her eye upon herself, and
tries herself by every doctrine that is there, because she thinks this
is the only possible way to be ready for her trial at the last day.
Books also of devotion, and especially such as enter into the heart
of religion, and describe the _inward holiness_ of the christian life,
have such a large place in her closet, that she is sometimes afraid
that she lays out too much money in them, because she cannot forbear
buying all the practical books of any note. But of all human writings,
the _lives of pious persons_, and eminent saints, are her greatest
delight. In these she searches as for hidden treasure, hoping to find
some secret of holy living, some uncommon degree of piety, which she
may make her own. By this means, _Miranda_ has her head and heart
stored with all the principles of wisdom and holiness, and if you are
in her company, when she thinks proper to talk, you must be made wiser
and better, whether you will or not.
To relate her charity, would be to relate the history of every day
for twenty years past. She has set up near twenty poor tradesmen who
had failed in their business, and saved as many from failing. She has
educated several poor children, that were picked up in the streets,
and put them in a way of honest employment. As soon as any labourer
is confined at home with sickness, she sends to him, till he recovers,
twice the value of his wages, that he may have one part to give to his
family as usual, and the other to provide things convenient for his
sickness.
If a family seems too large to be supported by the labour of those in
it that can work, she pays their rent, and gives them something yearly
towards their cloathing. By this means there are many poor families
which live in a comfortable manner, and are from year to year blessing
her in their prayers.
If there is any poor man or woman, that is more than ordinarily wicked
and reprobate, _Miranda_ has her eye upon them, and if she can discover
that they are in any great streights or affliction, she gives them
speedy relief. She has this care for this sort of people, not only
because she once saved a very profligate person from being carried
to prison, who immediately became a true penitent, but because she
believes that a tenderness of affection towards the most abandoned
sinners, is every where represented in the gospel as the highest
instance of a divine and godlike soul.
_Miranda_ once passed by a house, where the man and his wife were
cursing and swearing at one another in a most dreadful manner, and
three children crying about them; this sight so much affected her
compassionate mind, that she went the next day, and even bought the
three children, that they might not be ruined by living with such
wicked parents. They now live with _Miranda_, are blessed with her care
and prayers, and all the good works that she can do for them. They hear
her talk, they see her live, and join with her in psalms and prayers.
The eldest of them has already been an instrument of converting his
parents from their wicked life, and shews a turn of mind so remarkably
pious, that _Miranda_ intends him for holy orders; that being thus
saved himself, he may be zealous in the salvation of souls, and do to
other miserable objects, as she has done to him.
_Miranda_ is a constant relief to poor people in their misfortunes and
accidents; for there are sometimes little misfortunes that happen to
them, which of themselves they could never be able to overcome: the
death of a cow, or a horse, or some little robbery, would keep them
in distress all their lives. She does not suffer them to lie grieving
under such accidents as these. She immediately gives them the full
value of their loss, and makes use of it as a means of raising their
minds towards GOD.
She has a great tenderness for _old people_ that are grown past their
labour. The parish allowance (_Miranda_ says) to such people, is
very seldom a comfortable maintenance. For this reason, they are the
constant objects of her care; she adds so much to their allowance, as
somewhat exceeds the wages they got when they were young. This she does
to comfort them under the infirmities of their age, that being free
from trouble and distress they may serve GOD in peace and tranquillity
of mind. She has generally a large number of this kind, who by her
charities, and exhortations to holiness, spend their last days in great
piety and devotion.
_Miranda_ never wants compassion even to _common beggars_; especially
those that are old or sick, or full of sores, and that want eyes or
limbs. _Miranda_ considers that _Lazarus_ was a common beggar, that
notwithstanding he was the care of angels, and carried into _Abraham_’s
bosom. She considers that our blessed Saviour and his apostles, were
kind to beggars; that they spoke comfortably to them, healed their
diseases, and restored eyes and limbs to the lame and blind. She
therefore hears their complaints with tenderness, and never bids them
go to the place from whence they came, or tells them that she cannot
relieve them because they may be cheats, or that they are strangers;
but she relieves them for that very reason because they are strangers;
and though she cannot, like our Saviour and his Apostles, work miracles
for their relief, yet she remembers the words of our LORD, “I was a
stranger and ye took me in,” and can say with St. _Peter_, “such as I
have, give I unto you, in the name of JESUS of _Nazareth_.”
It may be, says _Miranda_, that I may sometimes give to those who do
not deserve it. But where, says she, has the scripture made merit to
be the rule or measure of my charity? On the contrary, does not the
scripture speak on this wise, “if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he
thirst, give him drink.” And if I am to love and do good to my worst
enemies, surely I am not to deny alms to poor beggars, whom I neither
know to be bad people, nor any way my enemies? Does not GOD make his
sun to rise on the evil and on the good? Is not this the very goodness
that is recommended to us in scripture? that by imitating it, “we may
be children of our father who is in heaven, who sendeth rain on the
just and the unjust.”
Perhaps you will reply, “By this means I encourage people to be
beggars.” But may not the same objection be made against all kinds of
charities, for they may encourage people to depend upon them? May not
the same be said against forgiving our enemies, cloathing the naked, or
giving medicines to the sick? for in so doing we may encourage people
to do us hurt or neglect themselves, and be careless of their health.
Such thoughtless objections, says _Miranda_, I once urged myself, when
in a state of unregeneracy: but since the love of GOD has dwelt in me,
and enlarged my heart, I have been filled with bowels of compassion;
and as I daily pray for all, so far as I can, I give to all. And I
cannot refuse an alms to those, whom I pray GOD to bless, and whom
I wish to be partakers of eternal glory. I look on those who come to
ask my alms, as so many friends and benefactors, that come to do me
a greater good than they can receive from me; that come to _exalt_ my
graces, and be witnesses of my charity; to be monuments of my love, and
put it in my power of proving the truth of that glorious declaration
“It is more blessed to give than to receive.”
This is the spirit, and this is the life of the devout _Miranda_; and
if she lives ten years longer, she will have spent six-thousand pounds
in charity; for that which she allows herself, may fairly be reckoned
amongst her alms.
When she dies, she must shine amongst Apostles, saints and martyrs, she
must stand amongst the first servants of GOD, and be glorious amongst
those that have fought the good fight, and finished their course with
joy.
“He that hath ears to hear let him hear.”
CHAPTER III.
_An enquiry into the first and chief reason, why the generality
of christians fall so far short of the holiness and devotion
of christianity._
SINCE christian devotion is nothing less than a life wholly devoted
unto GOD, and persons who are free from the necessities of labour and
employments, are to consider themselves as devoted to GOD in a higher
degree; it may now reasonably be enquired, how it comes to pass, that
the lives even of the moral and better sort of people, are in general
so directly contrary to the principles of christianity? I answer,
because the generality of those that call themselves christians, are
destitute of a true living faith in JESUS CHRIST; for want of which
they never effectually intended to please GOD in all the actions of
life, as the happiest and best thing in the world.
To be partaker of such a faith, is every where represented in scripture,
as a fundamental and necessary part of true piety. For without a living
faith in the righteousness of JESUS CHRIST, our persons cannot be
justified, and consequently none of our performances acceptable in the
sight of GOD. It is this faith that enables us to overcome the world,
and to devote ourselves without reserve to promote the glory of Him,
who has loved and given himself for us. And therefore it is purely for
want of such a faith, that you see such a mixture of sin and folly in
the lives even of the better sort of people: It is for want of this
faith, that you see _clergymen_ given to pride, and covetousness, and
worldly enjoyments: It is for want of such a faith that you see _women_
who profess devotion, yet living in all the folly and vanity of dress,
wasting their time in idleness and pleasures, and in all such instances
of state and equipage as their estate will reach. Let but a woman feel
her heart full of _this faith_, and she will no more desire to shine
at balls and assemblies, or to make a figure among those that are most
finely dressed, than she will desire to dance upon a rope to please
spectators. For she will then know that the one is as far from the true
nature, wisdom, and excellency of the christian spirit, as is the other.
Let a _clergyman_ be but thus pious, and he will converse as if he had
been brought up by an Apostle; he will no more think and talk of _noble
preferment_, than of _noble eating_, or a _glorious chariot_. He will
no more complain of the frowns of the world, or a small cure, or the
want of a patron, than he will complain of the want of a laced coat,
or of a running horse. Let him but have such a faith in love for GOD,
as will constrain him to make it his business to study to please GOD in
all his actions, as the happiest and best thing in the world, and then
he will know, that there is nothing noble in a clergyman, but _burning
zeal_ for the salvation of souls; nor any thing poor in his profession
but _idleness_ and a worldly spirit.
Further, let a _tradesman_ but have such a faith, and it will make
him a _saint_ in his shop; his every day business will be a course
of wise and reasonable actions, made holy to GOD, by flowing from
faith, proceeding from love, and by being done in obedience to his
will and pleasure. He will therefore not chiefly consider, what arts
or methods or application will soonest make him greater and richer
than his brethren, that he may remove from a shop, to a life of state
and pleasure; but he will chiefly consider, what arts, what methods,
and what application can make worldly business most conducive to GOD’s
glory, and his neighbour’s good; and consequently make a life of trade,
to be a life of holiness, devotion, and undissembled piety.
It was this faith that made the _primitive christians_ such eminent
instances of religion; and that made the goodly fellowship of the
saints in all ages, and all the glorious army of confessors and martyrs.
And if we will stop and ask ourselves, why we are not as pious as the
primitive christians, and saints of old were? our own hearts must tell
us, that it is because we never yet perhaps earnestly sought after, and
consequently were never really made partakers of, that _precious faith_,
whereby they were constrained to intend to please GOD in all their
actions, as the best and happiest thing in the world.
Here then let us judge ourselves sincerely; let us not vainly content
ourselves with the common disorders of our lives, the vanity of our
expences, the folly of our diversions, the pride of our habits, the
idleness of our lives, and the wasting of our time; fancying that
these are only such imperfections as we necessarily fall into, through
the unavoidable weakness and frailty of our nature; but let us be
assured that these habitual disorders of our common life, are so many
demonstrable proofs, that we never yet truly accepted of the LORD JESUS
and his righteousness by a living faith, and never really intended, as
a proof and evidence of such a faith, to please GOD in all the actions
of our life, as the best thing in the world.
Though this be a matter that we can easily pass over at present, whilst
the health of our bodies, the passions of our minds, the noise, and
hurry, and pleasures, and business of the world, lead us on with “eyes
that see not, and ears that hear not:” yet at death, it will set itself
before us in a dreadful magnitude; it will haunt us like a dismal ghost,
and our consciences will never let us take our eyes from it, unless
they are seared as with a red hot iron, and GOD shall have given us
over to a reprobate mind.
_Penitens_ was a busy notable tradesman, and very prosperous in his
dealings; but died in the thirty-fifth year of his age.
A little before his death, when the doctors had given him over, some of
his neighbours came one evening to see him; at which time he spake thus
to them.
I see, (says he) my friends, the tender concern you have for me, by the
grief that appears in your countenances, and I know the thoughts that
you now have of me. You think how melancholy a case it is, to see so
young a man, and in such flourishing business, delivered up to death.
And perhaps, had I visited any of you in my condition, I should have
had the same thoughts of you. But now, my friends, my thoughts are
no more like your thoughts, than my condition is like yours. It is no
trouble to me now to think that I am to die young, or before I have
raised an estate. These things are sunk into such _mere nothings_, that
I have no name little enough to call them by. For if in a few days,
or hours, I am to leave this carcase to be buried in the earth, and to
find myself either for ever happy in the favour of GOD, or eternally
separated from all light and peace; can any words sufficiently express
the littleness of every thing else?
Is there any dream, like the dream of life, which amuses us with the
neglect and disregard of these things? Is there any folly like the
folly of our manly state, which is too wise and busy to be at leisure
for these reflections?
When we consider death as a misery, we generally think of it as a
miserable separation from the enjoyments of this life. We seldom mourn
over an old man that dies rich, but we lament the young, that are taken
away in the progress of their fortunes. You yourselves look upon me
with pity, not that you think I am going unprepared to meet the Judge
of quick and dead, but that I am to leave a prosperous trade in the
flower of my life.
This is the wisdom of our manly thoughts. And yet what folly of the
silliest children, is so great as this? For what is there miserable or
dreadful in death, but the consequences of it? When a man is dead, what
does any thing signify to him, but the state he is then in?
Our poor friend _Lepidus_, you know died as he was dressing himself
for a feast; do you think it is now part of his trouble, that he did
not live till that entertainment was over? Feasts, and business, and
pleasures and enjoyments, seem great things to us, whilst we think of
nothing else; but as soon as we add death to them, they all sink into
littleness not to be expressed; and the soul that is separated from the
body, no more laments the loss of business, than the losing of a feast.
If I am now going to the joys of GOD, could there be any reason to
grieve, that this happened to me before I was forty years of age.
Can it be a sad thing to go to heaven, before I have made a few more
bargains, or stood a little longer behind a counter?
And if I am to go amongst lost spirits, could there be any reason to
be content, that this did not happen to me till I was old and full of
riches.
If good angels were ready to receive my soul, could it be any grief to
me that I was dying on a poor bed in a garret?
And if GOD has delivered me up to evil spirits, to be dragged by them
to places of torment, could it be any comfort to me, that they found me
upon a bed of state? When you are as near death as I am, you will know,
that all the different states of life, whether of youth or age, riches
or poverty, greatness or meanness, signify no more to you, than whether
you die in a poor or stately apartment.
The greatness of the things which follow death, makes all that goes
before it sink into nothing.
Now, that _judgment_ is the next thing which I look for, and
_everlasting happiness_ or _misery_ is come so near to me, all the
enjoyments and prosperities of life seem as vain and insignificant, and
to have no more to do with my happiness, than the cloaths that I wore
when I was a little child.
What a strange thing! that a little health, or the poor business of a
shop, should keep us so senseless of these great things that are coming
so fast upon us!
Just as you came into my chamber, I was thinking with myself, what
numbers of souls there are in the world, in my condition at this very
time, surprized with a summons to the other world: some taken from
their shops and farms, others from their sports and pleasures; these at
suits at law, those at gaming-tables; some on the road, others at their
own fire-sides; and all seized at an hour when they thought nothing
of it; frighted at the approach of death; confounded at the vanity of
all their labours, designs, and projects; astonished at the folly of
their past lives, and not knowing which way to turn their thoughts, to
find any comfort. Their consciences flying in their faces, bringing all
their sins to remembrance, tormenting them with the deepest convictions
of their own folly, presenting them with the sight of the angry Judge,
and the worm that never dies, the fire that is never quenched, the
gates of hell, the powers of darkness, and the bitter pains of eternal
death.
O my friends! bless GOD that you are not of this number; and take this
along with you, that there is nothing but a real faith in the LORD
JESUS, and a life of true piety, or a death of great stupidity, that
can keep off these apprehensions.
Had I now a thousand worlds, I would give them all for one moment’s
scriptural assurance that I had really received the LORD JESUS by a
living faith into my heart, and for one year’s more continuance in life,
that I might evidence the sincerity of that faith, by presenting unto
GOD, one year of such devotion and good works, as I am persuaded I have
hitherto never done.
Perhaps, when you consider that I have lived free from scandal and
debauchery, and in the communion of the church, you wonder to see me so
full of remorse and self-condemnation at the approach of death.
But alas! what a poor thing is it, to have lived only free from murder,
theft, and adultery, which is all that I can say of myself. Was not
the slothful servant, that is condemned in the gospel, thus negatively
good? And did not the Saviour of mankind tell the young man who led a
more blameless and moral life than I have done, that yet one thing he
lacked.
But the thing that now surprizes me above all wonders, is this, that
till of late I never was convinced of that reigning soul-destroying
sin of unbelief; and that I was out of a state of salvation,
notwithstanding my negative goodness, my seemingly strict morality, and
attendance on public worship and the holy sacrament. It never entered
into my head or heart, that the righteousness of JESUS CHRIST alone,
could recommend me to the favour of a sin avenging GOD, and that I
must be born again of GOD, and have CHRIST formed in my heart, before
I could have any well-grounded assurance that I was a christian indeed,
or have any solid foundation whereon I might build the superstructure
of a truly holy and pious life.
Alas! I thought I had faith in CHRIST, because I was born in a
christian country, and said in my creed, that “I believed on JESUS
CHRIST his only Son our LORD.” I thought I was certainly regenerate
and born again, and was a real christian, because I was baptized when
I was young, and received the holy sacrament in my adult age. But
alas! little did I consider that faith is something more than the world
generally thinks of; a work of the heart, and not merely of the head,
and that I must know and feel that there is no other name given under
heaven whereby I can be saved, but that of JESUS CHRIST.
It is true indeed, you have frequently seen me at church and the
sacrament; but alas, you little think what remorse of conscience I
now feel for so frequently saying, “the remembrance of our sins is
grievous unto us, and the burden of them is intolerable,” when I never
experienced the meaning of them in all my life. You have also seen
me join with the minister when he said, “we do not approach thy table
trusting on our own righteousness;” but all this while I was utterly
ignorant of GOD’s righteousness, which is by faith in CHRIST JESUS,
and was going about to establish a righteousness of my own. It is
true indeed, I have kept the fasts and feasts of the church, and have
called CHRIST, Lord, Lord; but little did I think, that no one could
call CHRIST truly Lord, but by the Holy Ghost. I have attended upon
ordinations, and heard the Bishop ask the candidates, “whether they
were called by the Holy Ghost;” I have seriously attended to the
minister, when he exhorted us to pray for true repentance and GOD’s
holy Spirit; but alas, I never enquired whether I myself had received
the Holy Ghost to sanctify and purify my heart, and worked a true
evangelical repentance in my soul. I have prayed in the litany that
I might bring forth the fruits of the Spirit, but alas, my whole life
has been nothing but a dead life, a round of duties, and model of
performances, without any living faith for their foundation. I have
professed myself a member of the church of _England_; I have cried
out, “The temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD,” and in my zeal
have exclaimed against Dissenters; but little did I think, that I was
ignorant all this while of most of her essential articles, and that
my practice, as well as the want of a real experience of a work of
regeneration and true conversion, when I was using her offices, and
reading her homilies, gave my conscience the lie.
O my friends! a form of godliness without the power, and dead morality
not founded on a living faith in the LORD JESUS CHRIST, is such a
dreadful delusion, so contrary to the lively oracles of GOD, that did
not I know (though alas how late!) that the righteousness of JESUS
CHRIST was revealed in them, and that there was mercy to be found with
GOD, if we venture by a real faith on that righteousness, though at the
eleventh hour, I must now sink into total despair.
_Penitens_ was here going on, but had his mouth stopped by a convulsion,
which never suffered him to speak any more. He lay convulsed about
twelve hours, and then gave up the ghost.
Now if every reader would imagine this _Penitens_ to have been some
particular acquaintance or relation of his, and fancy that he saw and
heard all which is here described; that he stood by his bed-side when
his poor friend lay in such distress and agony, lamenting the want
of a living faith in JESUS CHRIST, as the cause of a dead, lifeless,
indevout life: if besides this, he should consider, how often he
himself might have been surprized in the same formal dead state, and
made an example to the rest of the world; this double reflection,
both upon the distress of his friend, and the goodness of that GOD,
which ought to have led him to repentance, would in all likelihood
set him upon seeking and earnestly praying for such a faith, of which
_Penitens_ felt himself void, and constrain him to let the LORD have no
rest, till he should be pleased to apply the righteousness of his dear
Son to his sin-sick soul, and enable him henceforward to study, out of
love, to glorify him in all the actions of his future life, as the best
and happiest thing in the world.
This therefore being so useful a meditation, I shall here leave the
reader, I hope, seriously engaged in it.
CHAPTER IV.
_Shewing, how the fear of being singular, and making the
world their rule of action, is a second great cause, why
so few devote themselves to GOD._
ANOTHER cause why so few devote themselves to GOD, is a _fear of
contempt_ from the world, and their making its modes and customs the
general rule of all their actions.
The history of the gospel is chiefly the history of CHRIST’s conquest
over the world. And the number of true christians, is only the number
of those who following the Spirit of CHRIST, have lived, and do live,
contrary to this spirit of the world.
“Whosoever is born of GOD, (says the apostle) overcometh the world. Set
your affections on things above, and not on things on the earth; for ye
are dead, and your life is hid with CHRIST in GOD.”
This is the language of the whole New Testament; this is the mark of
real christianity. We are to be dead to the spirit and temper of the
world, and live a new life in the Spirit of JESUS CHRIST.
It was this, that made Saint _Paul_ so passionately express himself,
“GOD forbid, that I should glory, save in the cross of our LORD JESUS
CHRIST.” But why does he glory? because his christian profession had
called him to the honour of suffering for CHRIST, and of dying to the
world, under reproach and contempt, as the LORD JESUS had died upon the
cross. Hence he immediately adds, “by whom the world is crucified unto
me, and I unto the world.”
Thus was the cross of CHRIST, in Saint _Paul_’s time, the glory of
christians. For he elsewhere asserts, speaking of christians in general,
that they are “to suffer, to be crucified, to die, and to rise with
CHRIST;” or else his crucifixion, and death, and resurrection, will
profit them nothing. As to his sufferings, says he, “if we suffer with
him, we shall also reign with him.” As to his crucifixion and death,
“Knowing that our old man is crucified with him. If we are dead with
CHRIST, we believe that we shall also live with him.” And then as to
the resurrection of CHRIST, says he, “If ye be risen with CHRIST, seek
those things which are above.” From all which texts it plainly appears,
that our blessed LORD not only died and rose again in our stead, and as
our federal head and representative, but that also if we are christians
indeed, we are to be conformed to all he did and suffered for us.
It was for this reason, that the holy JESUS said of his Disciples,
and of all true believers, “they are not of this world, as I am not of
this world.” Because, all true believers conforming to the sufferings,
crucifixion, death, and resurrection of CHRIST, live no longer after
the spirit and temper of this world, but “their life is hid with CHRIST
in GOD.”
How high this life is placed above the ways of the world, is
wonderfully described by Saint _Paul_, in these words: “Wherefore,
henceforth know we no man after the flesh; yea, though we have known
CHRIST after the flesh; yet henceforth know we him no more. Therefore
if any man be in CHRIST, he is a new creature; old things are passed
away; behold, all things are become new.”
He that feels the force and spirit of these words, can hardly bear
any human interpretation of them. “Henceforth, &c.” that is, since the
death and resurrection of CHRIST, the state of christianity is become
so glorious a state, that we do not even consider CHRIST himself as
in the flesh upon earth, but as a GOD of glory in heaven; we know
and consider ourselves not barely as men in the flesh, but as fellow
members of a new society, that are to have all our hearts, our tempers
and conversation in heaven.
Saint _John_ plainly declares thus much: “They are of the world,
therefore speak they of the world, and the world heareth them; _we are
of GOD_.” This is his description of the followers of CHRIST; and it is
proof enough, that no people are to be reckoned christians in reality,
who in their hearts and tempers belong to this world.
Saint _Paul_ takes it for a certainty so well known to christians, that
they are no longer to be considered as living in this world, that he
thus argues from it, as from an undeniable principle, concerning the
abolishing the rites of the _Jewish_ law: “Wherefore, if ye be dead
with CHRIST from the rudiments of the world, why as though living in
the world, are ye subject to ordinances?” Here could be no argument in
this, but in the Apostle’s taking it for undeniable, that christians
knew, their profession required them to have done with all the tempers
and passions of this world, and to live as citizens of the _New
Jerusalem_, and to have their conversation in heaven.
Our blessed LORD himself has fully determined this point, in these
words, “They are not of this world, as I am not of this world.” This
is the state of christianity with regard to this world. If you are not
thus out of and contrary to the world, you want the distinguishing mark
of christianity: You do not belong to CHRIST, but by being out of the
world as he was out of it.
We may deceive ourselves, if we please, with vain and softening
comments upon these words; but they are and will be understood in their
first simplicity and plainness, by every one who reads them in the same
spirit that our blessed LORD spoke them. And to understand them in any
lower and less significant meaning, is to let carnal wisdom explain
away that doctrine, by which itself was to be destroyed.
But notwithstanding the clearness and plainness of these doctrines,
which teach us thus to renounce the world, yet what a great part of
christians do live and die slaves to the customs and temper of the
world.
How many people swell with pride and vanity for such things as they
would not know how to value at all? but that they are admired in the
world.
Would a man take ten years more drudgery in business to add two horses
more to his coach, but that he knows, the world most of all admires a
coach and six?
To abound in wealth, to have fine houses and rich cloaths, to be
attended with splendor and equipage, to be beautiful in our persons,
to have titles of dignity, to be above our fellow-creatures, to command
the bows and obeisance of other people, to be looked on with admiration,
to pursue our enemies with revenge, to subdue all that oppose us,
to set ourselves in as much splendor as we can, to live highly and
magnificently, to eat and drink, and delight ourselves in the most
costly manner; these are the great, the honourable, the desirable
things, to which the spirit of the world turns the eyes of all people;
and many a one is afraid of standing still, and not engaging in the
pursuit of these things, lest the same world should take him for a
_fool_.
Many a man would often drop a resentment, and forgive an affront, but
that he is afraid the world would not forgive him.
How many would practice christian temperance and sobriety in its utmost
extent, were it not for the censure which the world passes upon such a
life?
Thus do the impressions which we have received from living in the world
enslave our minds, so that we dare not attempt to be eminent in the
sight of GOD, and holy angels, for fear of being little in the eyes of
the world.
You will perhaps say, that the world is now become christian, at least
that part of it where we live; and therefore the world is not now to be
considered in that state of opposition to christianity, as when it was
heathen.
It is granted, the world now professeth christianity. But will any
one say, that this christian world is of the spirit of CHRIST? are its
general tempers the tempers of CHRIST? are the passions of sensuality,
self-love, pride, covetousness, ambition, and vain-glory, less contrary
to the spirit of the gospel, now they are amongst christians, than
when they were among heathens? Or will you say, that the tempers and
passions of the heathen world are lost and gone?
The world is fully described to our hands by Saint _John_. “All that
is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and
the pride of life,” &c. Now will you say, that this world is become
christian? But if all this still subsists, then the same world is now
in being, and the same enemy to christianity that was in Saint _John_’s
days.
Had you lived with our Saviour, as his true disciple, you had then been
hated as he was; and if you now live in his spirit, the world will be
the same enemy to you now, that it was to him then.
“If ye were of the world, (saith our blessed LORD) the world would love
its own; but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out
of the world, therefore the world hateth you.”
We are apt to lose the true meaning of these words, by considering them
only as an _historical description_ of something that was the state
of our Saviour and his disciples at that time. But this is reading the
scripture as a _dead letter_: for they as exactly describe the state of
true christians in this, and all other times, to the end of the world.
For as _true christianity_ is nothing else but the spirit of CHRIST, so
whether that spirit appear in the person of CHRIST himself, or in his
apostles, or followers in any age, it is the same thing: whoever hath
his spirit, will be hated, despised, and condemned by the world, as he
was. For the world will always love its own, and none but its own: this
is as certain and unchangeable, as the contrariety between light and
darkness.
When the holy JESUS saith, “If the world hate you,” he does not add by
way of consolation, that it may some time or other cease its hatred, or
that it will not always hate them; but he only gives this as a reason
for their bearing it, “You know that it hated me, before it hated
you:” signifying, that it was he, or his spirit, that by reason of its
contrariety to the world, was then, and always would be hated by it.
Whether, therefore, the world outwardly professeth, or openly
persecuteth christianity, it is still in the same state of contrariety
to the true spirit and holiness of the gospel.
And indeed the world, by professing christianity, is so far from being
a less dangerous enemy than it was before, that it has by its favour
destroyed more christians, than ever it did by the most violent
persecution.
It is a greater and more dangerous enemy, because it has greater
power over christians by its favours, riches, honours, rewards, and
protections, than it had by the fire and fury of its persecutions.
It is a more dangerous enemy, by having lost its appearance of enmity.
And the change that the world has undergone, has only altered its
methods, but not lessened its power of destroying religion.
Christians had nothing to fear from the _heathen world_, but the loss
of their lives; but the world become a friend, makes it difficult for
them to save their religion.
How many consciences are kept at quiet, upon no other foundation, but
because they sin under the authority of the _christian world_? How
many directions of the gospel lie by unregarded, and how unconcernedly
do particular persons read them? for no other reason, but because
they seem unregarded by the christian world. So that there is hardly
any possibility of saving yourself from the present world, but by
considering it as the same wicked enemy to all true holiness, as it is
represented in the scriptures; and by assuring yourself, that it is as
dangerous to conform to its tempers and passions, now it is christian,
as when it was heathen.
From this quarter, therefore, arises a great obstruction to a really
devout life, because it cannot subsist in any person, but so far as he
is dead to the world. And though human prudence seems to talk mighty
wisely about the necessity of avoiding _particularities_, yet he that
dares not be so weak as to be particular, will be often obliged to
avoid the most substantial duties of christian piety.
CHAPTER V.
_Shewing that the education which men generally receive
in their youth, makes a devout life difficult to be
practised; and the spirit of a better education
represented in the character of |Paternus|._
ANOTHER obstruction to a devout life, arises from our _education_. We
are all of us, for the most part, corruptly educated, and then sent
to take our course in a corrupt world: so that it is no wonder, if
examples of true piety are so seldom seen.
Numbers are undone by being born and bred in families that have no
religion; where they are made vicious and irregular, becoming like
those with whom they first lived.
But this is not the thing I now mean; the education that I here intend,
is such as children generally receive from virtuous and sober parents,
and learned tutors and governors.
The first temper that we try to awaken in them is _pride_: as dangerous
a passion as that of _lust_. We stir them up to vain thoughts of
themselves, and do every thing we can to puff up their minds with a
sense of their own abilities.
Whatever way of life we intend them for, we apply to the fire and
vanity of their minds; and exhort them to every thing from corrupt
motives. We stir them up to action from principles of strife and
ambition; from glory, envy, and a desire of distinction, that they may
overtop all others, and shine above their neighbours in the world. Nay,
we repeat and inculcate these motives upon them, till they think it a
part of their duty to be proud, envious, and vain-glorious of their own
accomplishments.
If children are intended for _holy orders_, we set before them some
eminent orator, whose fine preaching has made him the admiration of the
age, and carried him through all the _dignities_ and preferments of the
church. We encourage them to have these _honours_ in their eye, and to
expect the reward of their studies from them.
If the youth is intended for a _trade_, we bid him look at all the rich
men of the same trade, and to consider how many are carried about in
their stately coaches, who began in the same low degree as he now does.
We awaken his ambition, and endeavour to give his mind a right turn, by
often telling him how very rich such and such a tradesman died.
If he is to be a _lawyer_, then we set great counsellors, lords, judges,
and chancellors, before his eyes. We tell him what great fees, and
great applause, attend fine pleading; we exhort him to take fire at
these things, and to be content with nothing less than the highest
honours of the long robe.
That this is the nature of our best education, is too plain to need any
proof; and yet after all this, we complain of the effects of pride; we
wonder to see grown men acted and governed by ambition, envy, scorn,
and a desire of glory; not considering, that they were all the time of
their youth, called upon to all their action and industry upon the same
principles.
How dry and poor must the doctrines of self-denial, and deadness to the
world, sound to a youth, that has been spurred up to all his industry,
by ambition, envy, and a desire of glory and distinction? And if he is
not to act by these principles when he is a _man_, why do we call him
to act by them in his _youth_?
I know it is said in defence of this method of education; that ambition,
and a desire of glory, are necessary to excite young people to industry;
and that if we were to press upon them the doctrines of self-denial,
and renunciation of the world, we should deject their minds, and sink
them into dulness and idleness.
But such objectors do not consider, that this reason, if it has any
strength, is full as strong against pressing the like doctrines upon
grown men, lest we should deject their minds, and sink them into
dulness and idleness.
For who does not see, that _middle-aged men_ want as much the
assistance of pride, ambition, and vain-glory, to spur them up to
action and industry, as do children? And it is very certain, that the
precepts of humility are more contrary to the designs of such men, and
more grievous to their minds, when they are pressed upon them, than
they are to the minds of young persons.
But further: could such objectors think, that if any children had
been educated by our blessed LORD, or his Apostles, that their minds
would have been sunk into dulness and idleness? Or could they think,
that such children would not have been trained up in the profoundest
principles of self-denial and true devotion? Can they say, that our
blessed LORD, who, considering him in his human nature, was the most
devout, self-denying man that ever was on earth, was hindered by his
devotion from doing the greatest example of worthy and glorious actions
that ever were done by man? Can they say, that his Apostles, who lived
in the same spirit of their Master, did therefore cease to be laborious
and active instruments of doing good to all the world?
A few such reflections as these, are sufficient to expose all the poor
pretences for an education in pride and ambition.
PATERNUS lived about two hundred years ago; he had but one son, whom
he educated himself, in his own house. As they were sitting together
in the garden, when the child was _ten years_ old, _Paternus_ thus
addressed him.
“The little time that you have been in the world, my child, you have
spent wholly with me; and my love and tenderness to you, has made you
look upon me as your only friend and benefactor, and the cause of all
the comfort and pleasure that you enjoy. Your heart, I know, would be
ready to break with grief, if you thought this was the last day that I
should live with you.
But, my child, though you now think yourself mighty happy, because you
have hold of my hand, you are now in the hands, and under the tender
care of a much greater father and friend than I am, whose love to you
is far greater than mine, and from whom you receive such blessings as
no mortal can give.
That GOD, whom you have seen me daily to worship; whom I daily call
upon to bless both you and me, and all mankind; whose wondrous acts
are recorded in those scriptures which you constantly read; that GOD,
who created the heavens and the earth; who brought a flood upon the
old world; who saved _Noah_ in the ark; who was the GOD of _Abraham_,
_Isaac_, and _Jacob_; whom _Job_ blessed and praised in the greatest
afflictions; who delivered the _Israelites_ out of the hands of the
_Egyptians_; who was the protector of righteous _Joseph_, _Moses_,
_Joshua_, and holy _Daniel_; who sent so many prophets into the world;
and who sent his Son JESUS CHRIST to redeem mankind: this GOD, who has
done all these great things; who has created the many millions of men,
that lived and died before you was born; with whom the spirits of good
men that are departed this life, now live; whom infinite numbers of
angels now worship in heaven; this great GOD, who is the creator of
worlds, of angels, and men, is your loving father and friend, your good
creator and nourisher; from whom, and not from me, you received your
being ten years ago, at the time that I planted that little _elm_ which
you there see.
I myself am not half the age of this _shady oak_ under which we sit;
many of our fathers have sat under its boughs; we have all of us called
it ours in our turn; it stands, and drops its _masters_, as it drops
its leaves.
You see, my son, this wide and large _firmament_ over our heads, where
the _sun_ and _moon_, and all the _stars_, appear in their turn: if you
was to be carried up to any of these bodies, you would discover others
as much above you, as the stars are above this _earth_. Were you to
go up or down, east or west, north or south, you would find the same
height without any top, and the same depth without any bottom.
And yet, my child, so great is GOD, that all these bodies added
together, are but as a grain of sand in his sight. Nevertheless, you
are as much the care of this great GOD and Father of all worlds, and of
all _spirits_, as if there were no creature for him to love and protect
but you alone. He numbers the hairs of your head, watches over you
sleeping and waking, and has preserved you from a thousand dangers, of
which neither you nor I know any thing.
How poor my power is, and how little I am able to do for you, you have
often seen. Your late sickness has shewn you how little I could do for
you in that state; and the frequent pains of your head are plain proofs,
that I have no power to remove them.
I can bring you food and medicines, but have no power to turn them into
your relief and nourishment: it is GOD alone that can do this for you.
Therefore, my child, fear, and worship, and love GOD. Secure an
interest in his favour, by seeking after a living faith in JESUS CHRIST
his dearly beloved Son; and then He, who blessed my father before I was
born, will bless you when I am dead.
I shall in a short time die, and leave you to GOD and yourself; and
as I know that my Redeemer liveth, and trust that GOD has forgiven me
my sins, I shall go to my dear Saviour CHRIST JESUS, and live amongst
patriarchs and prophets, saints and martyrs, and wait for your safe
arrival at the same place.
Therefore, my child, meditate on these great things, and your soul,
through the influences of GOD’s blessed Spirit, will soon grow great
and noble, by so meditating upon them.
Let your thoughts often leave these gardens, these fields, and farms,
to contemplate upon GOD, and CHRIST, and heaven, to meditate upon
angels and the spirits of good men living in light and glory.
As you have been used to look to me in all your actions, and have been
afraid to do any thing unless you first knew my will; so let it now be
a rule of your life, to look up to GOD, even a GOD in CHRIST, in all
your actions; to do every thing in his fear, and to abstain from every
thing that is not according to his will.
GOD keepeth a book of life, wherein all the actions of all men are
written; and when you die, my child, this book will be laid open before
men and angels; and according as your actions are there found to have
been done in, and proceeded from a living faith in JESUS CHRIST, you
will either be received into the happiness of those holy men who have
died in faith, or be turned away among those wicked spirits, those
hypocrites and unbelievers, that are never to see GOD any more.
Never forget this book, my son, for it must be opened, you must see it,
and you must be tried by it according to the deeds done in the body,
whether they have been good, or whether they have been evil.
But above all, my child, learn of JESUS CHRIST to be meek and lowly
in heart, and never do any thing through strife or vain-glory. Resist,
therefore, and look up to CHRIST for a conquest over every thought of
_self-pride_ and _self-distinction_; and accustom yourself to rejoice
in all the excellencies and perfections of your fellow-creatures, and
pray and study that you may be as glad to see any of their good actions,
as your own. For as GOD is as well pleased with their well-doings, as
with yours; so you ought to desire, that every thing that is wise, and
holy, and good, may be performed in as high a manner by other people,
as by yourself.
When I am dead, my son, you will be master of all my estate, which will
be a great deal more than the necessities of one family require. As
you are, therefore, to be charitable to the souls of men, and wish them
the same happiness with yourself, in heaven, so be charitable to their
bodies, and endeavour to make them as happy as you can upon earth.
Study to have your heart filled with the love of GOD, and the love of
your neighbour, and then be contented to be no deeper a scholar, no
finer a gentleman, than these tempers will make you. I am teaching you
_Latin_ and _Greek_, not that you should desire to be a great critic,
a fine poet, or an eloquent orator; but, that you may at proper times
look into the history of past ages, and learn the methods of GOD’s
providence over the world; and that by reading the writings of the
ancient sages, you may see how wisdom and virtue have been the praise
of great men of all ages, and fortify your mind by their wise sayings.
Avoid all superfluous shews of finery and equipage, and let your house
be furnished with moderate conveniencies. Do not consider what your
estate can afford, but what right reason and religion require.
Let your dress be decent, clean, and modest; and as to your meat and
drink, in them observe the highest rules of christian temperance and
sobriety; consider your body only as the servant and minister of your
soul; and only so nourish it, as it may best perform an humble and
obedient service to it.
But, my son, observe as a principal thing, and which I shall remind
you of as long as I live with you, _Hate and despise all human glory_;
it is nothing else but human folly. Love humility in all its instances,
practise it in all its parts; condescend to all the weakness and
infirmities of your fellow-creatures, cover their frailties, love their
excellencies, encourage their virtues, relieve their wants, rejoice
in their prosperities, compassionate their distress, receive their
friendship, overlook their unkindness, forgive their malice, be a
servant of servants, and condescend to do the lowest offices to the
lowest of mankind.
Aspire after nothing but an interest in the righteousness of JESUS
CHRIST; and as a consequence of that, your own purity and perfection.
Remember, my dear child, remember, that there is but one man in the
world, with whom you are to have perpetual contention, and whom you
should be always striving to exceed, and that is yourself.
The time of practising these precepts, my son, will soon be over with
you; the world will soon slip through your hands, or rather you will
soon slip through it. It seems but the other day, since I received the
same instructions from my dear father, that I am now leaving with you.
And the GOD that gave me ears to hear, and a heart to receive what my
father said unto me, will, I hope, give you grace to love and follow
the same instructions.”
Thus did _Paternus_ educate his son.
Can any one think, that such an education as this would weaken and
deject the minds of young people, and deprive the world of any worthy
and reasonable labours?
So far therefrom, that there is nothing so likely to enoble and
exalt the mind, and prepare it for the most heroical exercise of all
virtues. And fatal experience every day evinces, that a contrary way
of educating youth, is no small hindrance to their devoting themselves
entirely to GOD, and living up to the strictest rules of the blessed
and everlasting gospel.
An education which is not wholly intent upon this, is as much beside
the point, as an art of physic that had little or no regard to the
restoration of health: or rather, it is like administering poison
instead of physic.
For as the only end of the physician, is to restore nature to its own
state; so the only end of education is, to restore our rational nature
to its proper state. And as physic may justly be called the art of
restoring health, so education should be considered in no other light,
than as the art of recovering man to the use of reason and religion.
The youths that attended upon _Pythagoras_, _Socrates_, _Plato_, and
_Epictetus_, were thus educated. And since christianity hath, as it
were, new created the _moral_ and _religious world_, and set every
thing that is reasonable, wise, holy, and desirable, in its true point
of light; one may reasonably expect, that the education of youth should
be as much bettered by christianity, as the faith and doctrines of
religion are amended by it.
But since our modern education is not of this kind, a deficiency in
such an essential point, may be justly assigned as _one great reason_
why many men find it so exceedingly difficult to devote themselves
wholly unto GOD.
CHAPTER VI.
_Shewing how the method of educating daughters, makes it
difficult for them to enter into the spirit of christianity;
how miserably they are injured and abused by such an
education; and the spirit of a better education represented
in the character of |Eusebia|._
THAT turn of mind which is taught and encouraged in the _education of
daughters_, makes it exceeding difficult for them to enter into such
a sense and practice of true devotion, as the spirit of christianity
requires.
For if it were a virtue in a woman, to be proud and vain in herself,
and fond of the world; we could hardly use better means to raise these
passions, than those that are now used in their education.
_Matilda_ is a fine woman, of good breeding, great sense, and
has a great deal of regard for religion: she has three daughters,
educated by herself; she will trust them to no one else, nor at any
school, for fear they should learn any thing ill. She stays with
the _dancing-master_ all the time he is with them, because she will
hear every thing that is said to them. She has heard them read the
_scriptures_ so often, that they can repeat great part of them without
book; and there is scarce a good book of devotion, but you may find it
in their closets.
Her daughters see her great zeal for religion, but then they see an
equal earnestness for all sorts of finery. They are afraid to meet her,
if they have missed the _church_; but then they are more afraid to see
her, if they are not laced as strait as they can possibly be.
_Matilda_ is so intent upon all the arts of improving their _dress_,
that she has some new fancy almost every day, and leaves no ornament
untryed, from the richest jewel to the poorest flower. She is so nice
and critical in her judgment, and so sensible of the smallest error,
that her maid is often forced to dress and undress her daughters three
or four times a day, before she can be satisfied with it.
As to the _patching_, she reserves that to herself; for she says, if
they are not stuck on with judgment, they are rather a prejudice, than
an advantage to the face.
The children see so plainly the temper of their mother, that they even
affect to be more pleased with dress, than they really are, merely to
gain her favour.
They saw the eldest sister once brought to her tears, and her
perverseness severely reprimanded, for presuming to say, that she
thought it was better to cover the neck, than to go so far naked as
the modern dress requires.
She stints them in their meals, and is very scrupulous of what they eat
and drink; and tells them how many fine shapes she has seen spoiled in
her time, for want of such care. If a _pimple_ rises in their faces,
she is in a great fright, and they themselves are as afraid to see her
with it, as if they had committed some great sin.
Whenever they begin to look sanguine and healthy, she calls in the
assistance of the _doctor_; and if physic and issues will keep the
complexion from inclining to _coarse_ or _ruddy_, she thinks them well
employed.
By this means they are pale, sickly, infirm creatures, vapoured through
want of spirits, crying at the smallest accidents, swooning away at any
thing that frightens them, and hardly able to bear the weight of their
best cloaths.
The eldest daughter lived as long as she could under this discipline,
and died in the twentieth year of her age. When she was opened, it
appeared, that her ribs had grown into her liver, and that her other
entrails were much hurt, by being crushed together with her stays,
which her mother had ordered to be twitched so strait, that it often
brought tears into her eyes, whilst the maid was dressing her.
Her youngest daughter is run away with a gamester, a man of great
beauty, and who, in dressing and dancing, has no superior.
_Matilda_ says, she should die with grief at this accident, but that
her conscience tells her, she has contributed nothing to it herself.
She appeals to their closets and their books of devotion, to testify
what care she has taken to establish her children in a life of solid
piety and devotion.
Now, though I do not intend to say, that no daughters are brought up in
a better way than this (for I hope many are) yet thus much, I believe,
may be said, that the much greater part of them are not brought up so
well, or accustomed to so much religion, as in the present instance.
Their minds are turned as much to the care of beauty and dress, and
the indulgence of vain desires, as in the present case, without having
such rules of devotion to stand against it. So that if solid piety is
much wanted in that sex, it is the plain and natural consequence of a
vain and corrupt education. If they are often too ready to receive the
first fops, beaux, and fine dancers for their husbands; it is no wonder
they should like that in men, which they have been taught to admire in
themselves. And if they are often seen to lose that little regard to
religion, that they were taught in their youth, it is no more to be
wondered at, than to see a little flower choaked and killed amongst
rank weeds.
Personal pride, affectation, a delight in beauty, and fondness of
finery, are tempers that must kill all religion in the soul, or be
killed by it; they can no more thrive together than health and sickness.
But how possible it is to bring up daughters in a more excellent way,
let the following character declare.
_Eusebia_ is a pious widow, well born, and well bred, and has a good
estate for five daughters, whom she loves not only as her natural,
but also as her spiritual children; and they reverence her as their
spiritual mother, with an affection equal to that of the fondest
friends.
“My children, (says she) your dear father was an humble, watchful,
truly devout man. Whilst his sickness would suffer him to talk with me,
his discourse was chiefly about your education. He knew the ruins that
a wrong education made in our sex; and therefore conjured me with the
tenderest expressions, to renounce the _fashionable ways_ of educating
daughters, and to bring you all up in the most unaffected instances of
a truly christian and devout life.
When your father died, I was much pitied by my friends, as having all
the care of a family, and the management of an estate fallen upon me.
But my own grief was founded on another principle; I was grieved to
see myself deprived of so faithful a friend, and that such an eminent
example of real devotion, should be taken from the eyes of his children,
before they were of an age to love and follow it. But as to worldly
cares, which my friends thought lay so heavy upon me, they are most
of them of our own making, and fall away as soon as we begin to _know
ourselves_.
For this reason, all my discourse with you, has been to acquaint you
with yourselves, and to accustom you to such books of devotion, as may
best instruct you in this greatest of all knowledge.
You would think it hard, not to know the family into which you was born,
what ancestors you were descended from, and what estate was to come to
you. But, my children, you may know all this with exactness, and yet be
as ignorant of yourselves, as a man that should take himself to be wax,
and therefore dared not to let the sun shine upon him.
In order to know yourselves aright, you must consider yourselves as so
many fallen embodied spirits, conceived and born in sin, and that your
lives began in a state of corruption and disorder, full of tempers and
passions, that blind and darken the reason of your minds, and incline
you to that which is hurtful.
Your bodies are not only poor and perishing like your cloaths, but they
are as _infected cloaths_, that fill you with ill distempers, which
oppress the soul with sickly appetites, and vain envyings.
Hence all of us are like two beings, that have as it were two hearts
within us: with the one, we see, taste, and admire reason, purity,
and holiness; with the other we incline to pride, vanity, and sensual
delights.
This internal war we always feel within us more or less; and if you
would know the one thing necessary to you and all the world, it is this,
to preserve, strengthen, and perfect all that is rational, holy, and
divine in our nature, and by the assistance of the blessed Spirit of
GOD, to mortify and subdue all that vanity, pride, and sensuality,
which springs from the corruption of our state.
Whilst you live thus, you live like yourselves, and what is more, like
christians; but whenever you are more intent upon adorning your persons,
than upon perfecting your souls, you are much more beside yourselves,
than he, that had rather have a laced coat, than an healthful body.
Never consider yourselves, therefore, as persons that are to be seen,
admired, and courted by men; but as _poor sinners_, that are to be
washed in the blood of the Lamb of GOD, and accepted through his
all-sufficient righteousness, received by faith, and to be saved from
the follies of a miserable world, and made meet for heaven by the
powerful operations of his blessed Spirit.
These considerations have made me think it my duty to teach you nothing
that was dangerous for you to learn. I have kept you from every thing
that might betray you into weakness and folly, or make you think any
thing fine, but a _fine mind_; any thing happy, but an interest in the
favour of GOD, through JESUS CHRIST; or any thing desirable, but his
love shed abroad in the heart, and to do all the good you possibly can
to your fellow-creatures.
Instead of the vain, immodest entertainment of _plays_ and _operas_, I
have taught you to delight in pious reading and religious conversation.
What music, dancing, and diversions are to the people of the world,
that holy meditation, fervent prayers, and other acts of devotion,
have been to you. Instead of forced shapes, patched faces, and
affected motions, I have taught you to conceal your bodies with _modest
garments_, and to let the world have nothing to view of you, but the
plainness and sincerity, the humility and unaffectedness of all your
behaviour.
You know, my children, that a single state frees from worldly cares
and troubles, and gives a woman an opportunity of caring only how she
may please the LORD; but as I look upon you all to be so many great
blessings of a married state; so I leave it to your choice, either to
do as I have done, or to continue in a virgin state. Only let me remind
you, if you intend to marry, let the time never come till you find a
man that has those graces, which you are aspiring after yourselves;
who is likely to be a friend to all your virtues, and with whom it is
better to live, than to want the benefit of his example.
Avoid therefore the conversation of what the world calls _fine-bred
fops_, and _beaux_; for they are the shame of their own sex, and ought
to be the abhorrence of yours.
If evil speaking, scandal, or backbiting, be the conversation where
you happen to be, keep your hearts to yourselves; and if you have no
opportunity to reprove or turn the stream of such conversation into a
proper channel, retire as soon as you can.
Love and reverence _poor people_; as for many reasons, so particularly
for this, because our blessed Saviour was one of the number. Visit
and converse with them frequently: you will often find simplicity,
innocence, patience, fortitude, and great piety amongst them; and where
they are not so, your good example may amend them. For this cause, you
know I have divided part of my estate already amongst you, that you
each may be charitable out of your own stock, and take it in your turns
to provide for the poor and sick of the parish.
Whether married or unmarried, consider yourselves as mothers and
sisters, as friends and relations to all that want your assistance; and
never allow yourselves to be idle, whilst others want any thing that
your hands can make for them.
I have brought you up to all kinds of labour, that are proper for women,
as sowing, knitting, spinning, and all other parts of housewifery; not
merely for your amusement, and that you may know how to direct your
servants; but that you may be serviceable to yourselves and others,
and be saved from those temptations which attend an idle life. I must
therefore repeat to you, my daughters, what I have often reminded
you of before, that I had rather see you reduced to the necessity of
maintaining yourselves by your own hands, than to have riches to excuse
yourselves from labour. Never therefore consider your labour merely
as an amusement to get rid of your time, and so may be as trifling as
you please; but consider it as something that is to be serviceable to
yourselves and others, that is to serve some sober ends of life, to
save and redeem your time, and make it turn to your account, when the
works of all people shall be tried by fire.
What would you think of the wisdom of him, that should employ his time
in distilling of waters, and making liquors which no body could use,
merely to amuse himself with the variety of their colour and clearness;
when with less labour and expence, he might satisfy the wants of those
who have nothing to drink? And yet he would be as wisely employed,
as those that are amusing themselves with such tedious works as they
neither need, nor hardly know how to use when they are finished; when
with less labour and expence they might be doing as much good, as he
that is cloathing the naked, or visiting the sick. Be glad therefore to
know the wants of the poorest people, and think it not beneath you, to
let your hands be employed in making such mean and ordinary things for
them, as their necessities require. Thus _Dorcas_ was employed, who is
mentioned with so much honour in holy writ; and by so doing, you will
behave like true disciples of that Lord and Master, ‘who came into the
world not to be ministered unto, but to minister.’
In short, my dear children, strive to do every thing that is
praise-worthy, but do nothing in order to be praised; nor think of
any reward of all your works of faith and labours of love, till JESUS
CHRIST cometh with all his holy angels. Think, my children, that the
soul of your good father, now with GOD, speaks to you through my mouth;
and let the double desire of your father who is gone, and of me who am
with you, above all, let the mercies of GOD in CHRIST JESUS, prevail
upon you to love GOD with all your souls, to study your own perfection,
to practise humility, and to do all the good you can to all your
fellow-creatures, especially to those who are of the houshold of faith,
till it shall please GOD to call you to another life.”
Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters. The spirit of this
education speaks so plainly for itself, that, I hope, I need say
nothing in its justification. If we could see it in life, as well as
read of it in books, the world would soon find the happy effects.
There is nothing more desirable for the common good of all the world,
than that we might see it. For though _women_ do not carry on the trade
and business of the world, yet as they are _mothers_ and _mistresses_
of families, they have for some time the care of the education of their
children of both sorts, and are entrusted with that which is of the
greatest consequence to human life. For as the health and strength, or
weakness of our bodies, is very much owing to their methods of treating
us when we are young; so the soundness or folly of our minds, are
not less owing to those first tempers and ways of thinking, which we
eagerly received from the love, tenderness, authority and constant
conversation of our mothers.
Is it not then much to be lamented, that this sex, on whom so much
depends, who have the first forming of our bodies and our minds, are
not only educated in pride, but in the silliest and most contemptible
part of it?
They are not suffered to dispute with us the proud _prizes_ of arts and
sciences, of learning and ♦eloquence, in which I have much suspicion
they would often prove our superiors; but we turn them over to the
study of beauty and dress, and the whole world conspire to make them to
think of nothing else. Fathers and mothers, friends and relations, seem
to have no other wish towards the _little girl_, but that she may have
a _fair skin_, a _fine shape_, _dress well_, and _dance_ to admiration.
♦ “eloqence” replaced with “eloquence”
And what makes this matter the more to be lamented, is this. That women
are not only spoiled by this education, but we spoil that part of the
world, which would otherwise furnish the most instances of an eminent
and exalted piety. The _Church_ has formerly had eminent saints in that
sex; and it may reasonably be thought, that it is purely owing to their
poor and vain education, that this honour of their sex is for the most
part confined to former ages.
The corruption of the world indulges them in great vanity, and mankind
seem to consider them in no other view, than as so many _painted idols_,
that are to allure and gratify their passions; so that if many women
are vain, light, gew-gaw creatures, they have this to say in excuse
of themselves, that they are not only such as their education has made
them, but such as the generality of the world allow them to be.
Some indeed are pleased to say, that women are naturally of little and
vain minds, and consequently their trifling vain behaviour is owing
solely to that; but this I look upon to be as false and unreasonable,
as to say, that _butchers_ are naturally cruel: for as their cruelty
is not owing to their natures, but to their _way_ of life, which has
changed their natures; so whatever littleness and vanity is to be
observed in the minds of women, it is like the cruelty of butchers,
a temper that is wrought into them by that life which they are taught
and accustomed to lead. At least thus much must be said, that we cannot
justly charge any thing upon their nature, till we take care that it is
not perverted by their education.
But supposing it were true, that they were thus naturally vain and
light, then how much more blameable is that education, which seems
contrived to strengthen and increase the folly and weakness of their
minds? For if it were a virtue in women to be proud, and vain, and
indevout, we could hardly take better means to raise these bad things
in them, than those which are now used in their education.
Some people that judge hastily, will perhaps say, I have been
exercising too great a severity against the sex. But more reasonable
persons will easily observe, that I entirely spare the sex, and only
arraign their education; that, I profess, I cannot spare; but the only
reason is, because it is their greatest enemy, because it deprives the
world of so many blessings, and the church of so many saints as might
reasonably be expected from persons, formed by their natural temper
to all goodness and tenderness, and fitted, by the clearness and
brightness of their minds, to contemplate, love and admire every thing
that is holy, virtuous, and divine.
CHAPTER VII.
_Shewing, how true devotion fills our lives the greatest peace
and happiness that can be enjoyed in this world._
SOME people perhaps may object, that by thus living wholly unto GOD,
and introducing a regard to his glory in all that we do, too great a
restraint will be put upon human nature; and that by thus depriving
ourselves of so many seemingly innocent pleasures, as such a way of
life would hinder us from pursuing, we shall render our lives dull,
uneasy, and melancholy.
But this objection is entirely groundless. For christian devotion
requires us to renounce no ways of life, wherein we can act reasonably,
and offer what we do to the glory of GOD. All ways of life, all
satisfactions and enjoyments that are within these bounds, are no ways
denied by the strictest rules of real devotion. And will you think that
your life must be _uncomfortable_, unless you may displease GOD, be
fools and mad, and act contrary to that reason and wisdom which He has
implanted in you?
As for those satisfactions which we dare not offer to a holy GOD,
which are only invented by the folly and corruption of the world, which
inflame our passions, and sink our souls into grossness and sensuality,
and thereby render us unmeet for communion with GOD here, and the
eternal enjoyment of Him hereafter, surely it can be no uncomfortable
state of life, to be rescued by religion from such murderers both of
our souls and bodies.
Let us suppose a person destitute of that knowledge which we have
from our senses, placed somewhere alone by himself, in the midst of a
variety of things which he did not know how to use; that he has by him
bread, wine, gold-dust, iron chains, gravel, garments, and fire. Let it
be supposed, that he had no knowledge of the right use of these things,
nor any direction from his senses how to quench his thirst, or satisfy
his hunger, or make any use of the things about him. Let it be supposed,
that in his drought he puts gold dust into his eyes; when his eyes
smart, he puts wine into his ears; that in his hunger, he puts gravel
in his mouth: that in pain, he loads himself with the iron chains; that
feeling cold, he puts his feet in the water; that being frighted at the
fire, he runs away from it; and that being weary, he makes a seat of
his bread. Let it be supposed, that through his ignorance of the right
use of the things that are about him, he will vainly torment himself
whilst he lives; and at last die, blinded with dust, choaked with
gravel, and loaded with irons. Let it be supposed, that some good being
came to him, and shewed him the nature and use of all the things that
were about him, and gave him such strict rules of using them, as would
certainly, if observed, make him the happier for all that he had, and
deliver him from the pains of hunger, and thirst, and cold; could you
with any reason affirm, that those strict rules of using the things
that were about him, had rendered that poor man’s life dull and
uncomfortable?
Now this is, in some measure, a representation of the _strict rules_ of
religion; they relieve our ignorance, save us from tormenting ourselves,
and teach us to use every thing about us, not only to the glory of GOD,
but to our own proper advantage.
If religion commands us to live wholly unto GOD, and to do all to his
glory, it is because every other way of life is living wholly against
ourselves, and will end in our own shame and confusion.
Would you see how happy they are, who live according to their own wills,
and who cannot submit to the dull and melancholy business of a life
devoted unto GOD, look at _Flatus_; _Flatus_ is rich and in health, yet
always uneasy, and always searching after happiness.
At his first setting out in life, _fine cloaths_ was his delight; his
enquiry was only after the best taylors and peruke-makers, and he had
no thoughts of excelling in any thing but dress. He spared no expence,
but carried every nicety to its greatest height. But this happiness not
answering his expectation, he left off his _brocades_, put on a plain
coat, railed at fops and ♦beaux, and gave himself up to gaming with
great eagerness.
♦ “beaus” replaced with “beaux”
This new pleasure satisfied him for some time: he envied no other way
of life. But being by the fate of _play_ drawn into a _duel_, where
he narrowly escaped his death, he left off the _dice_, and sought for
happiness no longer amongst the gamesters.
The next thing that seized his wandering imagination, was the
_diversions_ of the town; and for more than a twelvemonth, you heard
him talk of nothing but ladies, drawing-rooms, birth-nights, plays,
balls, and assemblies. But growing sick of these, he had recourse to
hard drinking. Here he had many a merry night, and met with stronger
joys than any he had felt before. Here he had thoughts of setting up
his staff, and looking out no farther; but unluckily falling into a
_fever_, he grew angry at all strong liquors, and took his leave of
the happiness of being drunk.
The next attempt after happiness, carried him into the field. For two
or three years nothing made him so happy as _hunting_; he entered upon
it with all his soul, and leaped more hedges and ditches than had ever
been known in so short a time. You never saw him but in a _green coat_;
he was the envy of all that blew the _horn_, and always spoke to his
dogs in great propriety of language. If you met him at home in a bad
day, you would hear him blow his horn, and be entertained with the
surprizing accidents of the last _noble chace_. No sooner had _Flatus_
outdone all the world in the breed and education of his dogs, built
new kennels, new stables, and bought a new _hunting-seat_, but he
immediately got sight of another happiness, hated the senseless noise
and hurry of hunting, gave away his dogs, and was for some time after
deep in the _pleasures of building_.
Now he invents new kinds of _dove-cotes_, and has such contrivances
in his barns and stables, as were never seen before: he wonders at the
dulness of the old builders, is wholly bent upon the improvement of
_architecture_, and will hardly hang a door in the ordinary way. He
tells his friends, that he never was so delighted in any thing in his
life; that he has more happiness amongst his _brick_ and _mortar_,
than ever he had at _court_; and that he is contriving how to have some
little matter to do that way as long as he lives.
The next year he leaves his house unfinished, complains to every
body of _masons_ and _carpenters_, and devotes himself wholly to the
happiness of _riding about_. After this, you can never see him but
on horseback, and so highly delighted with this new way of life, that
he would tell you, give him but his _horse_ and a _clean country_ to
ride in, and you might take all the rest to yourself. A variety of new
saddles and bridles, and a great change of horses, added much to the
pleasure of this new way of life. But however, after some time having
tired both himself and his horses, the happiest thing he could think of
next, was to go abroad and _visit foreign countries_; and there, indeed,
the happiness exceeded his imagination, and he was only uneasy that he
had begun so fine a life no sooner. The next month he returned home,
unable to bear any longer the impertinence of _foreigners_.
Alter this, he was a great _student_ for one whole year; he was
up early and late at his _Italian grammar_, that he might have the
happiness of understanding the _opera_, whenever he should hear one,
and not be like those unreasonable people, that are pleased with they
don’t know what.
FLATUS is now at a full stand, and is doing what he never did in his
life before, he is _reasoning_ and reflecting with himself. He loses
several days, in considering which of his cast-off ways of life he
should try again.
But here a new project comes in to his relief. He is now living upon
herbs, and running about the country, to get himself into as _good
wind_ as any _running footman_ in the kingdom.
I have been thus circumstantial in so many foolish particulars of this
kind of life, because I hope, that every particular folly that you here
see and read of, will naturally turn itself into an argument for the
wisdom and happiness of a religious life.
But you will perhaps say, that the ridiculous, restless life of
_Flatus_, is not the common state of those, who resign themselves up
to live by their own humour, and neglect the strict rules of religion;
and that therefore it is not so great an argument of the happiness of
a religious life, as I would make it.
I answer, that I am afraid it is one of the most _general characters_
in life; and that few people can read it, without seeing something in
it which belongs to them. But let it be granted, that the _generality_
of people are not of such restless, fickle tempers as _Flatus_; the
difference is only this, _Flatus_ is continually changing and trying
something new, but others are content with some one state; they do
not leave _gaming_, and then fall to _hunting_; but they have so much
steadiness in their tempers, that some seek after no other happiness,
but that of heaping up riches; others grow old in the sports of the
field; and others are content to drink themselves to death, without
the least enquiry after any other happiness.
Now is there any thing more happy or reasonable in such a life as this,
than in the life of _Flatus_? Is it not as great and desirable, as wise
and happy, to be constantly changing from one thing to another, as to
be nothing else but a gatherer of money, a hunter, a gamester, or a
drunkard all your life? Shall religion be looked upon as a burden, or
as a dull and melancholy state, for calling men from such a happiness
as this?
But turn your eyes now another way, and let the glorious joys, the
exquisite happiness of _Feliciana_, teach you how miserable, and how
dull they must needs be, and what a delusion they are in, whole hearts
are not wholly devoted unto GOD.
If you was to live with _Feliciana_ but one half year, you would see
all the happiness that she is to have as long as she lives. She has no
more to come, but the poor repetition of that which could never have
pleased once, but through a wrong turn of mind, and want of thought.
She is to be again dressed fine, and keep her visiting days. She is
again to change the colours of her cloaths, again to have a new head,
and again put patches on her face. She is again to see who acts best at
the play-house, and who sings finest at the opera. She is again to make
ten visits in a day, and be ten times in a day trying to talk artfully,
easily, and politely about nothing.
She is to be again delighted with some new fashion; and again angry at
the change of some old one. She is to be again at cards and gaming at
midnight, and again in bed at noon. She is to be again pleased with
hypocritical compliments, and again disturbed with imaginary affronts.
She is to be again pleased with her good luck at gaming, and again
tormented with the loss of her money.
She is again to prepare herself for a birth night, and again see
the town full of good company. She is again to hear the cabals and
intrigues of the town, again to have secret intelligence of private
amours, and early notice of marriages, quarrels, and partings.
If you see her come out of her chariot more briskly than usual,
converse with more spirit, and seem fuller of joy than she was
last week, it is because there is some surprizing new dress, or new
diversion just come to town.
These are all the substantial and regular parts of _Feliciana_’s
happiness; and she never knew a pleasant day in her life, but it was
owing to some one or more of these things.
It is for this happiness, that she has been always deaf to the
reasonings of religion; and if you look into the world, and observe
the lives of those women, whom no arguments can prevail on to live
wholly unto GOD; you will find most of them to be such, as lose all the
comforts of religion, without gaining the tenth part of _Feliciana_’s
happiness. They are such as spend their time and fortunes only in
mimicking the pleasures of richer people; and rather look and long
after, than enjoy those delusions, which are only to be purchased by
considerable fortunes.
Nor does a life only of such vanity and sensuality as that of _Flatus_
or _Feliciana_’s, but even the most regular kind of life, that is
not governed by _great_ devotion, sufficiently shews how dull and
uncomfortable their lives must needs be, who are not wholly devoted
unto GOD.
_Octavius_ is a learned, ingenious man, well versed in most parts of
literature, and no stranger to any kingdom in _Europe_. The other day,
being just recovered from a lingering fever, he thus addressed his
friends.
“My glass, says he, is almost run out; and your eyes see how many marks
of age and death I bear about me: But I plainly feel myself sinking
away faster than any standers by do imagine. I fully believe, that one
year more will conclude my reckoning.”
The attention of his friends was much raised by such a declaration,
expecting to hear something truly excellent from so learned a man, who
had but a year longer to live; when _Octavius_ proceeded in this manner:
“For these reasons, my friends, I have left off all taverns, the wine
of those places is not good enough for me in this decay of nature. I
must now be nice in what I drink; I cannot pretend to do as I have done;
and therefore am resolved to furnish my own cellar with a little of the
very best, though it cost me ever so much.
I must also tell you, my friends, that age forces a man to be wise
in many other respects, and makes us change many of our opinions and
practices.
You know how much I have liked a large acquaintance; I now condemn it
as an error. Three or four chearful, diverting companions, is all that
I now desire; because I find, that in my present infirmities, if I am
left alone, or to grave company, I am not so easy to myself.”
A few days after _Octavius_ had made this declaration to his friends,
he relapsed into his former illness, and was committed to a nurse, who
closed his eyes before his fresh parcel of wine came in.
Young _Eugenius_, who was present at this discourse, went home a new
man, with full resolutions of devoting himself to GOD. “I never, says
_Eugenius_, was so deeply affected with the wisdom and importance of
religion, as when I saw how poorly and meanly the learned _Octavius_
was to leave the world, through the want of it.
How often had I envied his great learning, his skill in languages,
his knowledge of antiquity, his address, and fine manner of expressing
himself upon all subjects! But when I saw how poorly it all ended, what
was to be the last year of such a life, and how foolishly the master of
all these accomplishments was then forced to talk, I was then convinced
that there must be nothing so happy and comfortable as a life of true
devotion; nor any thing so poor and comfortless, as death without it.”
Look now at that condition of life, which draws the envy of all eyes.
_Negotius_ is a temperate honest man: he served his time under a
master of great trade, but has by his own management made it a more
considerable business than ever it was before. For thirty years
past, he has written fifty or sixty letters in a week, and is busy in
corresponding with all parts of _Europe_. The general good of trade
seems to _Negotius_ to be the general good of life; whomsoever he
admires, whatever he commends, or condemns, either in church or state,
is admired, commended, or condemned, with some regard to trade.
As money is continually pouring in upon him, so he often lets it go
in various kinds of expence and generosity, and sometimes in ways of
charity.
_Negotius_ is always ready to join in any public contribution: If a
purse is making at any place where he happens to be, whether it be to
buy a plate for a horse-race, or to redeem a prisoner out of jail, you
are always sure of having something from him.
He has given a fine ring of bells to a church in the country; and
there is much expectation, that he will some time or other make a more
beautiful front to the market-house, than has yet been seen in any
place. For it is the generous spirit of _Negotius_ to do nothing in
a mean way.
The generality of people, when they think of happiness, think upon
_Negotius_, in whose life every instance of happiness is supposed to
meet; sober, prudent, rich, prosperous, generous, and as the world
thinks, charitable.
Let us now then look at this condition in another, but truer light.
Let it be supposed, that this same _Negotius_ was a painful, laborious
man, every day deep in a variety of affairs; that he neither drank,
nor was debauched; but was sober and regular in his business. Let it be
supposed that he grew old in this course of trading; and that the end
and design of all this labour, care, and application to business, was
only that he might die possessed of more than a hundred thousand pair
of boots and spurs, and as many great-coats. Now if this was really
the case, I believe it would be readily granted, that a life of such
business was as poor and ridiculous, as any that can be invented. But
it would puzzle any one to shew, that a man that has spent all his time
and thoughts in business and hurry, that he might die, as it is said,
worth a hundred thousand pounds, is any whit wiser than he, who has
taken the same pains to have as many pair of boots and spurs when he
leaves the world.
For if when he has gotten his hundred thousand pounds, or all his boots,
his soul is to go to his own place, as every soul needs must that has
not closed with JESUS CHRIST, and is not born again of GOD; how can we
say, that he who has worn out his life in raising an hundred thousand
pounds, has acted a wiser part for himself, however his money may
profit others, than he who has had the same care to provide a hundred
thousand pair of boots and spurs, and as many great-coats?
It would be endless to multiply examples of this kind, to shew how
little is lost, and how greatly they are mistaken, who imagine they
should render themselves dull and comfortless by introducing a strict
piety into every condition of human life.
Examples of great piety are not now common in the world; but the misery
and folly of worldly men, and vain and trifling women, is what meets
your eyes in every place; and you need not look far to see, how poorly,
how vainly men dream away their lives for want of real devotion.
This is the reason that I have laid before you so many characters of
the vanity of a worldly life, to teach you to make some benefit of the
corruption of the age, and that you may be made wise, though not by the
sight of what piety is, yet by seeing what misery and folly reign where
piety is not.
To meditate upon the perfection of the divine attributes, to
contemplate the love of GOD in CHRIST, the glories of heaven, the joys
of saints and angels, living for ever in the brightness and glory of
the divine presence; these are the meditations of souls advanced in
piety, and not so suited to every capacity.