20. When we would expose any signal impertinence, we commonly

illustrate it by the example of _Archimedes_; who was busy in making

mathematical figures on the sands of _Syracuse_, while the city was

stormed by _Marcellus_, and so, tho’ particular orders were given for

his safety, lost his life by his unseasonable study. Now, I confess

there was absurdity enough in this instance, to consign it over

to posterity: but had _Archimedes_ been a Christian, I should have

said, that the main of his impertinence did not lie _here_, in being

mathematically employed when the enemy was taking the city, but in

laying out his thoughts and time in so unconcerning a study, while he

had no less a concern upon him, than the securing his eternal interest,

which must be done now or never. Nothing certainly is an impertinence

if this be not, to hunt after knowledge in such a juncture as this!

21. Many other proceedings in the conduct of life, are condemned as

vanity and impertinence, though not half so inconsistent with the

character of man, nor so disagreeable to his present posture. The pens

of moral writers have been all along employed against them who spent

their short and uncertain lives, which ought to be spent in pursuing

an infinitely higher interest, in gaping up and down after honour and

preferments, in long and frequent attendances at court, in raising

families, in getting estates, and the like. These are condemned not

only for their particular viciousness, as crimes of ambition and

covetousness, but for what they have all in common, as they are

misspendings of time, and unconcerning employments.

22. Now I would fain know, whether any of these be more expensive of

our time, more remote from the main business of life, and consequently

more impertinent, than to be busily employed in the niceties and

curiosities of learning? And whether a man that loiters away six weeks

in court-attendances, be not every whit as _accountably_ employed, as

he that spends the same time in solving a mathematical question, as Mr.

_Des Cartes_ in one of his epistles confesses himself to have done? Why

should the prosecution of learning be the only thing excepted from the

vanities and impertinences of life?

23. And yet so it is. All other unconcerning employments are cried down

merely for being so, as not consistent with the present state of man,

with the character he now bears. This alone is not content with the

reputation of innocence, but stands for positive merit and excellence.

To say a man is a lover of knowledge, and a diligent enquirer after

truth, is thought almost as great an encomium as you can give him;

and the time spent in the study, though in the search of the most

impertinent truth, is reckoned almost as laudably employed as that

in the chapel. ’Tis learning only that is allowed (so inconsistent

with itself is human judgment) not only to divide, but to devour the

greatest part of our short life; and that is the only thing which with

credit and public allowance stands in competition with the study of

virtue: nay, by the most is preferred before it, who had rather be

accounted learned than pious.

*24. But is not this a strange competition? We confess that knowledge

is a glorious excellence. Yet rectitude of will is a far greater

excellence than brightness of understanding: and to be good, is a more

glorious perfection than to be wise and knowing, this being if not the

only, certainly the principal difference between an angel and a devil.

_’Tis far better_, to use the expression of Mr. _Poiret_, _like an

infant without much reasoning, to love much, than like the devil, to

reason much without love_.

25. But suppose knowledge were a more glorious excellence than it

is; suppose it were a greater perfection than virtue; yet still this

competition would be utterly against reason; since we can’t have the

former now _in any measure_, and shall have it hereafter _without

measure_: but the latter we may have _now_ (for we may _love much_ tho’

we cannot _know much_) and can’t have it _hereafter_. Now the question

is, whether we ought to be more ♦sollicitous for that intellectual

perfection, which we can’t have _here_ and shall have _hereafter_;

or that moral perfection, which we may have _here_, and cannot have

_hereafter_? And I think we need not consult an oracle, or conjure up

a spirit, to be resolved.

♦ “solicitious” replaced with “sollicitous” for consistency

*26. This consideration alone is sufficient to justify the measure

we have prescribed for our intellectual conduct, that we ought to

prosecute knowledge no farther than as it conduces to virtue: and

consequently, that whenever we study to any other purpose, or in any

other degree than this, we are unaccountably, impertinently, I may

add, sinfully imployed. For this is the whole of man, _To fear God and

keep his commandments_, the whole of man in this station particularly,

and consequently this ought to be the scope of all his studies and

endeavours.

27. And accordingly it is observable, that the scripture, whenever it

makes mention of wisdom, with any mark of commendation, always means by

it either religion itself, or such knowledge as has a direct influence

upon it. Remarkable to this purpose is the 28th chapter of _Job_; where

having run thro’ several instances of natural knowledge, he adds, _But

where shall wisdom be found, and where is the place of understanding_?

As much as to say, that in none of the other things mentioned, did

consist the wisdom of man. Then it follows, _Man knoweth not the price

thereof, neither is it found in the land of the living. The depth

saith, It is not in me, and the sea saith, It is not in me._ Not in

the depths of learning, nor in the recesses of speculation, _Seeing it

is hid from the eyes of all living. Destruction and death say we have

heard of the fame thereof with our ears_: as much as to say, that after

this life, and then only, unless perhaps about the hour of death, men

begin to have a true sense and lively relish of this wisdom. But in the

mean time, _God understandeth the way thereof, and he knoweth the place

thereof_. And unto man he said, _Behold, the fear of the Lord that

is wisdom, and to depart from evil, that is understanding_! To man he

said: had it been to another creature, suppose an angel, in a state of

security and confirmation, he would perhaps have recommended for wisdom

the study of nature, and the arcana of philosophy. But having to do

with man, a probationary, unfixed creature, that shall be either happy

or miserable eternally, according as he demeans himself, in this short

time of trial, the only wisdom he advises to such a creature in such a

station, is to study religion and a good life.

28. From authority let us descend to example: and two I would

particularly recommend, of men both eminently wise and learned; I mean

_Moses_ and St. _Paul_. The latter professedly declares, _I determine

to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified_. And the former

complaining of the gross ignorance of his people, breaks out into this

passionate wish. _O that they were wise! that they understood this,

that they would consider their latter end!_

29. _Moses_ had been bred a scholar as well as a courtier, and was

well instructed in all the secrets of philosophy. And besides the

advantages of _Pharaoh_’s court, he had God himself for his tutor;

he had conversed personally with his maker, and therefore must needs

be supposed to know what was true wisdom. But he does not make it

consist in courtly education, or the mysteries of philosophy; but in

considering our latter end. He wishes that his people were wise; and to

this end does not wish, that they were as well-bred, or as learned as

himself, but only that they understood this, this one thing, that they

would consider their latter end. This he makes the summary and abstract

of all wisdom. Not unlike _Plato_, who defines philosophy, _the theory

of death_.

30. And here, if a short digression may be dispensed with, I would

observe, how much _Plato_ is in the right, and what an excellent part

of wisdom it is, to consider death seriously. To make this distinctly

appear, I shall shew first, that the consideration of death is the

most proper exercise for a wise man, and secondly, that it is the most

compendious way of making him wise that is not so.

31. First, It is the most proper exercise for a wise man. Wisdom

consists in a due estimation of things; which then are duly estimated,

when they are rated, both as they are in themselves, and as they are in

relation to us. If they are great and extraordinary in themselves, they

deserve to be considered for their own sakes; if they nearly relate to

us, they deserve to be considered for ours. And on both these accounts,

death and its consequences, are highly deserving a wise man’s thoughts.

32. For, first, they are in themselves great and extraordinary

transactions, and as such, deserve the attentive consideration, even

of a stander by, of any other indifferent being, suppose an angel;

even though he were no otherwise concerned in it, than as ’tis a

great event, a noble and wonderful scene of providence. On this single

account, death is as fit a subject for the contemplation of a wise man,

as any in nature.

33. Or if there be within the sphere of nature, things of a greater

appearance, yet there is none wherein man is so nearly concerned.

Since on this depends his eternal happiness or ruin. Nothing deserves

so much to be considered by him, whether therefore we regard the

greatness of the thing itself, or its greatness with respect to us,

the consideration of death is as proper an exercise as a wise man can

be employed in.

34. And as ’tis so fit an employment for him that is wise already, so,

secondly, it is the most compendious way of making him wise that is not

so. For all wisdom is in order to happiness; and to be truly wise, is

to be wise unto salvation. Whatever knowledge contributes not to this,

is quite besides the mark. It is, as the apostle calls it, _Science

falsely so called_. The knowledge itself is vain, and the study of it

impertinent.

35. Now the only way to happiness is a good life; and consequently all

wisdom being in order to happiness, that is the true, and the only true

wisdom, that serves to the promoting it. That therefore is the most

compendious way of making a man wise, which soonest makes him good.

And nothing does this so soon and so well, as the serious and habitual

consideration of death. And therefore says the wise man, _remember

death and corruption, and keep the commandments_: The shortest

compendium of holy living that ever was given. As if he had said, many

are the admonitions of wise and good men, for the moral conduct of life.

But would you have a short and infalible direction? Remember death and

corruption. Do but remember this, and forget all other rules if you

_will_, and your duty if you _can_.

36. And what is here remarked by one wise man, is consented to by all.

Hence that common practice among the antients, of placing sepulchres

in their gardens, and of using that celebrated motto, _Memento mori_.

Hence that modern as well as antient custom, of putting emblems of

mortality in churches and other public places: by all which is implied,

that the consideration of death is the greatest security of a good

life. Indeed what other considerations do by parts, this does at a blow.

It at once defeats the world, the flesh, and the devil. For how can

the world captivate him, who seriously considers that he is a stranger

in it, and shall shortly leave it? How can the flesh insnare him, who

has his sepulchre in his eye, and reflects on the cold lodging he shall

have there? And how can the devil prevail on him, who remembers that

he shall die, and then enter on an ♦unchangeable state of happiness

or misery, according as he has either resisted, or yielded to his

temptations? Of so vast consequence is the constant thinking upon

death, above all other, even practical meditation: and so great reason

had _Moses_ for placing the wisdom of man in the consideration of his

latter end.

♦ “unchangable” replaced with “unchangeable” for consistency

*37. But to return. I now persuade myself, that from the character of

man, and his present circumstances, as well as from divine authority,

it evidently appears, that however natural our desire of knowledge is,

this appetite is to be governed, as well as those that are sensual;

that we ought to indulge it only so far, as may tend to the conducting

our lives, and the fitting us for that happiness which God hath

promised, not to the learned, but to the good: and that if it be

gratified to any other purpose, or in any other measure than this,

our curiosity is impertinent, our study immoderate, and the tree of

knowledge still a forbidden plant.

38. And now having stated the measure of our affection to, and enquiry

after learning and knowledge, it remains to be considered, how much

’tis observed in the general conduct of our studies. ’Tis plain, it

is not observed at all. For these two things are notorious: First,

That very little of what is generally studied, has any tendency to

living _well_ here or happily hereafter. And, Secondly, That these very

studies which have no religious influence upon life, do yet devour the

greatest part of it. The best and most of our time is devoted to dry

learning; this we make the course of our study, the rest is only by the

by. And ’tis well if what is practical or devotional, can find us at

leisure upon a broken piece of a Sunday or holiday. The main current

of our life runs in studies of another nature, that don’t so much

as glance one kind ♦aspect upon good living. Nay, ’tis well if some

of them don’t hinder it. I am sure so great and so good a man as St.

_Austin_ thought so, who speaking of the institution and discipline of

his youth, has these remarkable words, “_I learnt in those things many

useful words; but the same might have been learnt in matters that are

not vain: and that indeed is the safe way, wherein children ought to

be trained up. But wo unto thee thou torrent of |custom|! Who is able

to resist thee! How long will it be before thou art dried up? How long

wilt thou roll along the sons of |Eve|, into a great and formidable sea,

which they can hardly pass over? Have I not, in obedience to thee, read

of |Jupiter| thundring and fornicating at the same time? And yet, O

thou hellish torrent, the sons of men are still tossed in thee, and are

invited by rewards to learn these things! The pretence indeed is, that

this is the way to learn words, and to get eloquence and the art of

persuasion. As if we might not have known these words, |Golden Shower|,

|lap|, the temple of |heaven|, without reading of |Jupiter|’s being

made a precedent for whoring? This immorality does not at all help the

learning of the words: but the words greatly encourage the committing

the immorality. Not that I find fault with the words themselves; they

are pure and choice vessels: but with that wine of error, which in

them is handed and commended to us by our sottish teachers. And yet

unless we drank of it, we were beaten, nor had we any sober judge to

appeal to. And yet, I, O my God, in whose presence I now securely make

this recollection, willingly learnt these things, and like a wretch

delighted in them, and for this I was called a |good, hopeful boy|._”

By this you may see what the judgment of this holy and venerable person

was in his private retirements, and at the most serious intervals of

his life, concerning the general course of those studies, which draw

out the first runnings of our age, and which are of so great credit

and authority in the world, as to go under the name of ingenious and

liberal education. You see he not only disapproves them, but reckons

them among those sins and irregularities of his youth, whereof he

thought himself obliged to make a particular confession in this his

great penetential.

♦ removed the word “of” per Errata

39. And here let me not be thought immodest, if upon great

consideration and full conviction, I presume to tax the management

of our publick schools. Many miscarriages I might note, but I shall

concern myself only with those, which the principles here laid down

lead me to consider. And these we may comprehend under two general

heads of complaint.

I. That they take up so much of our time.

II. That they teach us such frivolous and unprofitable things as they

do.

In relation to the first, I can’t with any patience reflect, that out

of so short a time as that of human life, consisting, it may be of 50

or 60 years (for where one lives longer, hundreds come short) 19 or

20 shall be spent between the dictionary and the lexicon, in hammering

out a little _Latin_ and _Greek_, and in learning a company of poetical

fictions and fantastick stories. Were these things worth knowing,

yet ’tis barbarous and inhuman, to make people spend so much of their

little stock of time upon them. This is to _make a cure_ of human

ignorance, and to deal with the infirmities of the mind, as some ill

surgeons do with the wounds of the body. If one were to judge of the

life of man by the proportion of it spent at school, one would think

the _Antidiluvian_ mark were not yet out, and that we had a prospect of

at least 900 or 1000 years before us. The truth is, ’tis an intolerable

abuse it should be so; and were the age as wise as it pretends to be,

it would never suffer it: especially considering what late examples

we have had of more compendious methods beyond the seas. It does not

become me to project a scheme of school-discipline; I leave this to

abler heads. Only in the mean time I may venture to say, that the

common way is a very great tax upon human life; so large a portion of

which can very ill be spared, to be lavished away in the first elements

of learning.

*But the greatest complaint against these seminaries is, the

frivolousness of the things they teach. Not only the spending so much

time on the things they teach is blame-worthy, but their teaching such

things at all. Setting opinion and fancy aside, what real improvement

is it to the mind of a rational creature, to be overlaid with words

and phrases, and to be full charged with poetical stories and dreams?

How many excellent and useful things might be learnt, while boys are

_thumbing_ and _murdering Hesiod_ and _Homer_, which ♦then they do not

understand, and which when they do, they will throw by and despise? And

that justly too: for of what signification is such stuff as this, to

the accomplishment of a reasonable soul? What improvement can it be to

my understanding, to know the amours of _Pyramus_ and _Thisbe_, or of

_Hero_ and _Leander_? Do men retain any value for these things, when

they grow up, or endeavour to preserve the memory of them? And why must

poor boys ♠be condemned to the drudgery of learning what when they are

men they must and will unlearn? Why must they be forced with so great

expence of time and labour, to learn ♣such things as are of no standing

use? So ♥far from that, they are dangerous, as well as unprofitable.

For I appeal to the common sense and experience of mankind, whether it

be not dangerous in the highest degree, to entertain the gay catching

fancies of boys, with the amorous scenes of the poets? Whether it

be safe, to season their green imaginations with such images as are

there painted to the life? Is not this rather the direct way to corrupt

them, to sow in their tender minds the seeds of impurity, to increase

their inbred propensities to evil, and lay a standing foundation for

debauchery? Let any man but consider human nature as it comes down

to us from _Adam_, and tell me whether he thinks a boy is fit to be

trusted with _Ovid_? I do not understand upon what principle, either

of prudence or piety, such books as these should be read by any; but

least of all by boys, whose soft minds are so susceptible of any ill

impression. Far better were it they should continue ignorant, than

that their understandings should be accomplished at the hazard of their

morals; upon which such studies as these can derive no very wholsome

influence. And yet to these our youth is dedicated, and in these

some of us employ our riper years, and when we die, this very thing

makes one part of our funeral eulogy, that we were so diligent and

indefatigable in our studies, and so inquisitive in the search of

knowledge, perhaps that we procured an early interment by it; when,

according to the principles before laid down, we were as impertinently,

though not so innocently employed all the while, as if we had been so

long picking straws in _Bedlam_.

♦ “when” replaced with “then” per Errata

♠ inserted word “be” per Errata

♣ “luch” replaced with “such”

♥ inserted “far from” per Errata

40. The sum of all this is: the measure of prosecuting learning and

knowledge, is their usefulness to a good life. Consequently, all

prosecution of them beyond or beside this end, is impertinent and

immoderate. But such is the general prosecution of learning and

knowledge, as is plain by appealing to the general conduct of study.

It evidently follows, that the intellectual conduct of human life

is justly chargeable with an immoderate and impertinent pursuit of

knowledge.

The CONCLUSION.

TO what a narrow compass, by virtue of the preceding reflections,

are these three things reduced, which use to take up so large a room,

_viz._ Learning itself, the method of learning, and the desire and

prosecution of learning? These indeed are great retrenchments, but such

as are just and necessary to the regulation of our intellectual conduct.

And now who can forbear making these two observations, 1. That

this bookish humour, which every where so prevails, is one of the

spiritual diseases of mankind, one of the most malignant relics of

original depravation: it carrying in it the very stamp and signature

of _Adam_’s transgression, which owed its birth to an inordinate desire

of knowledge, 2. That those who have eyes, may in great measure spare

them, and they who have not, should not much lament the want of them,

upon account of learning.

For my own part, I am so thoroughly convinced of the certainty of

the principles here laid down, that I look upon myself as not only

under a particular obligation, but almost a necessity of conducting my

studies by them. The last of which has left such a deep impression upon

me, that I now intend to follow the advice of the Heathen, (_Marcus

Antoninus_, as I remember) ♦Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον. _Rid thyself

of the thirst after books_; and to study nothing at all but what serves

to the advancement of piety and a good life.

♦ “Τὴν τῶν Βιϐλίων δίψαὑ ρίψον” replaced with

“Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον”

I have now spent about 13 years in the most celebrated university in

the world; in pursuing both such learning as the _academical_ standard

requires, and as my private genius inclined me to. But in truth, when

I think on my past intellectual conduct, I am as little satisfied with

it as with my moral; being very conscious, that the greatest part of my

time has been employed in unconcerning curiosities, such as derive no

degree of moral influence upon the soul that contemplates them.

But I have now a very different apprehension of things, and intend to

spend my uncertain remainder of time, in studying only what makes for

the moral improvement of my mind, and regulation of my life: being not

able to give an account, upon any rational and consistent principles,

why I should study any thing else.

*More particularly, I shall apply myself to read such books as are

rather persuasive than instructive; such as warm, kindle, and enlarge

the affections, and awaken the divine sense in the soul; as being

convinced by every day’s experience, that I have more need of heat than

of light. Though were I for more light, still I think this would prove

the best method of illumination, and that when all is done the love

of God is the best light of the soul. _A man may indeed have knowledge

without love; but he that loves, though he want sciences humanly

acquired, yet he will know more than human wisdom can teach him,

because he has that master within him who teacheth man knowledge._

THE

LIFE OF GOD

In the SOUL of MAN.

_Mistakes about religion._

1. I CANNOT speak of religion, but I must lament, that among so many

pretenders to it, so few understand what it means; some placing it

in the understanding, in orthodox notions and opinions; and all the

account they can give of their religion is, that they are of this, or

the other persuasion, and have joined themselves to one of those many

sects whereinto Christendom is most unhappily divided: others place it

in a constant course of external duties, and a model of performances;

if they live peaceably with their neighbours, keep a temperate diet,

observe the returns of worship, frequenting the church, or their closet,

and sometimes extend their hands to the relief of the poor, they think

they have sufficiently acquitted themselves: others again put all

religion in rapturous heats, and all they aim at is, to pray with

passion, and to be affected with those kind and melting expressions

wherewith they court their Saviour, till they persuade themselves that

they are mightily in love with him. Thus are these things, which have

any resemblance of piety, and, at best, are but means for obtaining

it, or particular exercises of it, frequently mistaken for the whole

of religion; nay, sometimes wickedness and vice pretend to that name.

I speak not now of those gross impieties wherewith the Heathens were

wont to worship their gods: there are but too many Christians, who

would consecrate their vices, and hallow their corrupt affections;

whose rugged humour and sullen pride, must pass for Christian severity;

whose fierce wrath, and bitter rage against their enemies, must be

called holy zeal; whose petulancy towards their superiors, or rebellion

against their governors, must have the name of Christian courage and

resolution.

_What religion is._

2. But certainly religion is quite another thing; and they who are

acquainted with it, will entertain far different thoughts, and disdain

all those shadows of it. They know, by experience, that true religion

is an union of the soul with God; a real participation of the divine

nature; or, in the apostle’s phrase, _Christ formed within us_. Briefly,

I know not how the nature of religion can be more fully expressed,

than by calling it a _divine life_; and, under these terms, I shall

discourse of it, shewing first, how it is called a _life_, and then

how it is termed _divine_.

_Its permanency and stability._

3. I choose to express it by the name of _life_, first, because

of its permanency and stability. Religion is not a sudden start or

passion; tho’ it transport a man to extraordinary performances. There

are few but have convictions of the necessity of doing something for

the salvation of their souls, which may push them forwards some steps

with a great deal of haste; but anon, they flag and give over; they

did shoot forth, fresh and high, but are quickly withered, because they

had no root in themselves. These sudden fits may be compared to the

convulsive motions of bodies newly beheaded; which, however violent and

impetuous, can be of no long continuance: whereas the motions of holy

souls are constant and regular, proceeding from a permanent and lively

principle. It is true this divine life continueth not always in the

same strength and vigour, yet it is not extinguished; nor are holy men

abandoned to the power of those corrupt affections, which sway the rest

of the world.

_Its freedom and unconstrainedness._

4. Again, religion may be termed _life_, because it is an inward, free,

and self-moving principle; and those who have it, are not acted only by

external motives, driven merely by threatnings, nor bribed by promises,

nor constrained by laws; but are powerfully inclined to that which is

good, and delight in the performance of it. The love which a pious man

bears to God, and goodness, is not so much by virtue of a command

enjoining it as by a new nature prompting him to it; nor doth he pay

his devotions as a tribute, to appease the divine justice; but these

religious exercises are the proper emanations of the divine life, the

natural employments of a new-born soul. He prays, and gives thanks,

and repents not only because these things are commanded, but because

he is sensible of his wants, and of the divine goodness, and of the

folly and misery of a sinful life. His charity is not forced, nor

his alms extorted from him; his love makes him willing to give, and,

though there were no outward obligations, his _heart would devise

liberal things_. Injustice, or intemperance, and all other vices, are

as contrary to his temper, as the basest actions to the most generous

spirit: so that I may well say with St. _John_, _Whosoever is born of

God doth not commit sin: for his seed remaineth in him, and he cannot

sin, because he is born of God_.¹ Though religious persons do much eye

the law of God, and have a great regard unto it, yet it is not so much

the sanction of the law, as its purity and goodness, which prevail with

them. They account it excellent and desirable in itself; and that in

keeping of it there is great reward. And that divine love wherewith

they are acted, makes them become a law unto themselves.

Quis legem det amantibus?

Major est amor lex ipse sibi.

_Who shall prescribe a law to those that love?_

_Love’s a more powerful law, which doth them move._

¹ 1 John iii. 9.

5. In a word, what our blessed Saviour said of himself, is, in some

measure, applicable to his followers, that it is their _meat and drink

to do their Father’s will_.¹ And as the natural appetite is carried

out towards food, though we should not reflect on the necessity of

it; so are they carried, with a natural and unforced propension toward

that which is good and commendable. It is true, external motives are of

great use to stir up this inward principle, especially in its infancy;

when ’tis often so languid, that the man himself can scarce discern it,

hardly being able to move one step forward, but when he is pushed by

his hopes, or his fears; by the pressure of an affliction, or the sense

of a mercy; by the authority of the law, or the persuasion of others:

yet, if such a person be conscientious and uniform in his obedience,

and earnestly groaning under the sense of his dulness, these are the

first motions of the divine life; which, though it be faint and weak,

will surely be cherished by the influences of heaven, and grow unto

greater maturity. But he who is utterly destitute of this inward

principle, and contents himself with those performances whereunto he

is prompted by education or custom, or the fear of hell, can no more be

accounted a religious person, than a puppet can be called a man. This

forced and artificial religion is commonly heavy and languid, like the

motion of a weight forced upward. It is scant and niggardly, especially

in those duties which do violence to mens inclinations; for those

slavish spirits will be sure to do no more than is absolutely required;

’tis a law that compels them, and they will be loth to go beyond what

it stints them to; nay, they will ever be putting such glosses on

it, as may leave them the greatest liberty. Whereas the spirit of

true religion is frank and liberal, far from such peevish and narrow

reckonings; and he who hath given up himself entirely unto God, will

never think he doth too much for him.

¹ John iv. 34.

_Religion a divine principle._

6. By this time, I hope, it appears, that religion is, with reason,

termed _a life_, or vital principle; and that we are to distinguish

betwixt it, and that obedience which is constrained, and depends upon

external causes. I come next to give an account why I term it _a divine

life_: and so it may be called, not only in regard of its fountain and

original, having God for its author, and being wrought in the souls

of men, by the power of his Holy Spirit; but also in regard of its

nature, religion being a resemblance of the divine perfections, the

image of the Almighty shining in the soul of man: nay, it is a real

participation of his nature, it is a beam of the eternal light, a drop

of that infinite ocean of goodness; and they who are endued with it,

may be said to have _God dwelling in their souls, and Christ formed

within them_.

_What the natural life is._

7. Before I descend to a more particular consideration of this, it will

be fit to speak a little of that natural or animal life which prevails

in those who are strangers to the other: and by this I understand

nothing else, but our inclination and propension towards those

things, which are pleasing to nature; or self-love issuing forth, and

spreading itself into as many branches as men have several appetites

and inclinations. The root and foundation of the animal life I reckon

to be sense, as it is opposed to faith, and importeth our perception

of things, that are either grateful or troublesome to us. Now these

animal affections, as they are implanted in us by nature, are not

vicious or blameable; nay, they are instances of the wisdom of the

Creator, furnishing his creatures with such appetites as tend to the

preservation and welfare of their lives. These are instead of a law

to the brute beasts, whereby they are directed towards the ends for

which they were made. But man, being made for higher purposes, becomes

criminal when he is transported by the inclinations of this lower

life, to neglect the more noble designs of his creation. Our natural

affections are not wholly to be destroyed, but to be over-ruled by a

more excellent principle: and the difference betwixt a religious and

wicked man is, that in the one the divine life bears sway; in the other

the animal prevails.

_The different tendencies of the natural life._

8. But it is strange to observe to what different courses this natural

principle carries those who are guided by it, according to the divers

circumstances that concur with it to determine them. And the not

considering this, frequently occasions dangerous mistakes, making men

think well of themselves, by reason of that seeming difference which is

betwixt them and others. Whereas their actions all the while flow from

one and the same original. If we consider the natural temper of men,

we find some airy, frolicksome, and light, which makes their behaviour

extravagant and ridiculous; whereas others are serious and severe, and

their whole carriage gains them reverence and esteem. Some are of a

rugged, and morose temper, and can neither be pleased themselves, nor

endure that others should be so; while others have a sweetness in their

natures, and find the greatest pleasure in the endearments of society,

and the mutual complacency of friends. And it is well that nature

hath provided this complectional tenderness, to supply the defect of

true charity in the world, and to incline men to do something for one

anothers welfare. Again, in regard of education, some have never been

taught to follow any other rules, than those of pleasure or advantage;

but others are enured to observe the strictest rules of decency and

honour.

9. In fine, it is no small difference in the deportment of mere natural

men that arises from the strength or weakness of their judgment.

Intemperance and lust, injustice and oppression, and all those other

impieties which abound in the world, are the effect of the _animal

life_ when it is neither over-powered by religion, nor governed by

natural reason? But if it once take hold of reason, and get judgment

to be of its party, it will disdain gross vice, and spring up unto

fair imitations of virtue. But this is not all: this natural principle,

by the help of reason, may take a higher flight, and come nigher to

religion. It may incline a man to the diligent study of divine truths:

for why should not these, as well as other speculations, be grateful

to inquisitive minds? It may make men zealous in maintaining and

propagating such opinions as they have espoused. It may make them

delight to hear and compose excellent discourses about the matters of

religion; for eloquence is very pleasant, whatever be the subject; nay,

some it may dispose to a kind of devotion. The glorious things that are

spoken of heaven; the similitudes made use of in scripture, of crowns

and scepters, and rivers of pleasure, may affect a man’s fancy, and

make him wish to be there, tho’ he neither understand nor desire those

spiritual pleasures which are shadowed forth by them: and when such

a person believes that Christ has purchased those glorious things for

him, he may feel a kind of tenderness and affection, and imagine he is

mightily enamoured with him; and yet all the while continue a stranger

to the holy temper and spirit of the blessed Jesus.

10. To conclude, there is nothing proper to make a man’s life pleasant,

or himself eminent in the world; but _this_ natural principle, assisted

by reason, may prompt him to it. And though I do not condemn these

things in themselves; yet it concerns us nearly to know their nature,

both that we may keep within bounds, and that we may learn never to

value ourselves on the account of such attainments, nor lay the stress

of religion upon our natural appetites or performances.

_Wherein the divine life doth consist._

11. It is now time to return to the consideration of that _divine life_,

that _life which is hid with Christ in God_, and therefore hath no

glorious shew or appearance in the world, but to the natural man seems

mean and insipid. As the animal life consists in that narrow love which

is terminated on a man’s self, and in his propension to those things

that are pleasing to nature; so the divine life stands in an universal

affection, and in the mastery over our natural inclinations. The root

of the divine life is faith; the chief branches are, love to God,

charity to man, purity and humility; for (as an excellent person

observed) however these names be common and vulgar, yet do they carry

such a mighty sense, that the tongue of man or angel can pronounce

nothing more weighty or excellent. Faith hath the same place in the

divine life, which sense hath in the natural; being indeed a kind of

sense, or feeling persuasion of spiritual things: it extends itself

unto all divine truths; but in our lapsed estate, it hath a peculiar

relation to the declarations of God’s mercy to sinners thro’ a Mediator;

and therefore, receiving its denomination from that principal object,

is ordinarily termed _faith in Jesus Christ_.

12. The love of God is such a delightful sense of God’s love to us, as

makes the soul resign itself wholly to him, desiring above all things

to please him, and delighting in nothing so much as in communion with

him, and being ready to do or suffer any thing for his sake. A soul

thus possessed with divine love, must needs be enlarged towards all

mankind in sincere affection, because of the relation they have to

God, being his creatures, and having something of his image stamped

upon them. And this is that _charity_ I named as the second branch of

religion, and under which all the parts of justice, all the duties we

owe to our neighbour, are eminently comprehended. For he who doth truly

love all the world, will be nearly concerned in the interest of every

one, and so far from wronging any person that he will resent any evil

that befals others, as if it happened to himself.

13. By _purity_, I understand such a disposition of mind, as makes a

man despise and abstain from all pleasures of sense or fancy, which

either are sinful in themselves, or tend to extinguish or lessen our

relish of more divine and intellectual pleasures. It doth also infer

a resoluteness to undergo all those hardships he may meet with in the

performance of his duty; so that not only charity and temperance, but

also Christian courage and magnanimity, may come under this head.

14. _Humility_ imports a deep sense of our inward and outward sins, and

of our utter helplessness; which is always accompanied with a profound

submission to the will of God, and deadness to the applause of men.

These are the highest perfections that men are capable of, the

foundation of heaven laid in the soul; and he who hath attained them,

needs not desire to pry into the hidden rolls of God’s decrees, to know

what is determined about his everlasting condition, but he may find a

copy of God’s thoughts concerning him written in his own breast. Those

beginnings of happiness which he feels in the conformity of the powers

of his soul to the nature of God, are a sure pledge that his felicity

shall be perfected, and continued to all eternity. And it is not

without reason that one said, _I had rather see the real impressions

of a godlike nature upon my own soul, than have a vision from heaven,

or an angel sent to tell me, that my name was enrolled in the book of

life_.

_Religion better understood by actions than by words._

15. When we have said all we can, the secret mysteries of a divine life

can never be sufficiently expressed: nor can they be truly understood

but by those that have a sense and relish of spiritual things. _There

is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth this

understanding._ The power and life of religion may be better expressed

in actions than in words: And therefore we may take the best measure

of those gracious endowments, from the deportment of those in whom

they reside; especially from the holy life of our blessed Saviour, a

main part of whose business in this world was to teach by his practice

what he required of others, and to make his own conversation an exact

resemblance of those unparalleled rules which he prescribed: so that if

ever true goodness was visible to mortal eyes, it was when his presence

beautified this lower world.

_Divine love exemplified in our Saviour;

his diligence in doing God’s will;

and his patience in bearing it._

16. That devout affection wherewith his blessed soul constantly burned

towards his heavenly Father, expressed itself in an entire resignation

to his will. It was his _very meat, to do the will, and finish the

work of him that sent him_. This was the exercise of his childhood,

and the constant employment of his riper age. He spared no pains while

he was about his Father’s business; but took such satisfaction in the

performance of it, that, when being faint and weary with his journey,

he rested on _Jacob_’s well, and intreated water of the _Samaritan_

woman; the success of his conference with her, and the accession that

was made to the kingdom of God, filled his mind with such delight,

as seemed to redound to his very body, refreshing his spirits, and

making him forget his thirst, and refuse the meat which he had sent his

disciples to buy. Nor was he less patient and submissive in suffering

the will of God, than diligent in doing of it. He endured the sharpest

afflictions, and extremest miseries that ever were inflicted on any

mortal, without a repining thought, or discontented word. For though he

was far from a stupid insensibility, and had as quick a sense of pain

as other men, and the deepest apprehension of what he was to suffer in

his soul, (as his _bloody sweat_, and the _sore amazement and sorrow_

which he professed, do abundantly declare) yet did he intirely submit

to that severe dispensation of providence, and willingly acquiesced in

it.

_His constant devotion._

17. Another instance of his love to God, was his delight in conversing

with him by prayer; which made him frequently retire from the world,

and spend whole nights in that heavenly exercise; though he had no sins

to confess, and but few secular interests to pray for: which, alas! are

almost the only things that are wont to drive us to our devotions. Nay,

we may say his whole life was prayer, a constant course of communion

with God. If the sacrifice was not always offering, yet was the fire

still kept alive. Nor was he ever surprized with that dulness of spirit

which we must many times wrestle with, before we can be fit for the

exercise of devotion.

_His charity to men._

18. In the second place I shall speak of love towards all men; but he

who would express it must transcribe the history of the gospel: for

scarce any thing is recorded to have been done or spoken by him, which

was not designed for the good of some one or other. All his miraculous

works were instances of his goodness, as well as his power, and they

benefited those on whom they were wrought, as well as amazed the

beholders. His charity was not confined to his kindred, or relations;

nor was all his kindness swallowed up in the endearments of that

peculiar friendship which he carried toward the beloved disciple. But

every one was his _friend_ who obeyed his _holy commands_, John xv. 4.

and _Whosoever did the will of his Father_, the same was to him as _his

brother, and sister, and mother_.

19. Never was any unwelcome to him, who came with an honest intention;

nor did he deny any request, which tended to the good of those that

asked it: So that what was spoken of the _Roman_ Emperor, whom, for his

goodness, they called the _darling of mankind_, was really performed by

him, that never any departed from him with a heavy countenance, except

that rich youth, _Mark_ x. who was sorry to hear that the kingdom of

heaven stood at so high a rate, and that he could not save his soul

and his money too. The ingenuity that appeared in his first address,

had already procured some kindness for him; for it is said, _And Jesus

beholding him, loved him_. But must he for his sake cut out a new way

to heaven, and alter the nature of things; which makes it impossible

that a covetous man should be happy?

_His meekness._

20. And what shall I speak of his meekness, who could encounter the

monstrous ingratitude of that miscreant who betrayed him, in no harsher

terms than these, _Judas betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss_?

What further evidence could we desire of his fervent and unbounded

charity, than that he willingly laid down his life for his most bitter

enemies, and mingling his prayers with his blood, besought the Father

that his death might not be laid to their charge, but might become the

means of eternal life, to those very persons who procured it.

_His purity._

21. The third branch of the divine life is _purity_, a neglect of

worldly enjoyments and accommodations, and a resolute enduring of all

such troubles as we meet with in the doing of our duty. Now surely if

ever any person was wholly dead to all the pleasures of the natural

life, it was the blessed Jesus; who seldom tasted them when they came

in his way, but never stept out of his road to seek them. Though he

allowed others the comforts of wedlock, and honoured marriage with his

presence, yet he chose the severity of a virgin life: and though he

supplied the want of wine with a miracle, yet he would not work one for

the relief of his own hunger in the wilderness. So gracious was he in

allowing others such gratifications, as himself thought good to abstain

from, and supplying not only their pressing necessities, but also their

less considerable wants. We many times hear of our Saviour’s sighs, and

groans, and tears, but never that he laughed, so that through his whole

life he answered that character given of him by the prophet, _A man

of sorrows, and acquainted with griefs_. Nor were the troubles of his

life other than matters of choice: for never did there any appear on

the stage of the world with greater advantages to have raised himself

to the highest secular felicity. He who could bring together such a

prodigious number of fishes into his disciples net, and at another time

receive that tribute from a fish which he was to pay to the temple,

might easily have made himself the richest person in the world; nay,

without any money, he could have maintained an army powerful enough

to have jostled _Cæsar_ out of his throne, having oftner than once

fed several thousands with a few loaves and small fishes: but to shew

how small esteem he had of all the enjoyments in the world, he chose

to live in so poor and mean a condition, that _though the foxes had

holes, and the birds of the air had nests, yet he, who was Lord of

all things, had not where to lay his head_. He did not frequent the

courts of princes, nor affect the acquaintance of great ones; but being

reputed the son of a carpenter, he had fishermen, and other such poor

people, for his companions, and lived at such a rate as suited with the

meanness of that condition.

_His humility._

22. And thus I am brought unawares to speak of his _humility_, the last

branch of the divine life, wherein he was a most eminent pattern to us,

that we might _learn of him to be meek and lowly in heart_. I shall not

now speak of that infinite condescension of the eternal Son of God, in

taking our nature upon him; but only reflect on his lowly deportment

while he was in the world. He had none of those sins and imperfections,

which may justly humble the best of men; yet he was so entirely

swallowed up with a deep sense of the infinite perfections of God,

that he appeared as nothing in his own eyes, I mean so far as he was

a creature. He considered those eminent perfections which shined in

his blessed soul as not his own, but the gifts of God; and therefore

assumed nothing to himself for them, but with the profoundest humility

renounced all pretences to them. Hence did he refuse that ordinary

compellation of _good Master_, from one, who, it seems, was ignorant

of his divinity: _Why callest thou me good? There is none good but God

only._ As if he had said, “The goodness of any creature (and such only

thou takest me to be) is not worthy to be named or taken notice of; it

is God alone who is originally and essentially good.” He never made use

of his miraculous power for vanity or ostentation: he would not gratify

the curiosity of the _Jews_ with a sign from heaven, some prodigious

appearance in the air; nor would he follow the advice of his countrymen

and kindred, who would have had all his great works performed in the

eyes of the world, for gaining him the greater fame. When his charity

had prompted him to the relief of the miserable, his humility made

him many times enjoin the concealment of the miracle; and when the

glory of God, and the design for which he came into the world, required

the publication of them, he ascribed the honour of all to his Father,

telling them, _That of himself he was able to do nothing_.

23. I cannot insist on all the instances of humility in his deportment

towards men; his withdrawing himself when they would have made him

a king; his subjection, not only to his blessed Mother, but to her

husband, during his younger years, and his submission to all the

indignities and affronts which his rude and malicious enemies put upon

him: the history of his holy life, recorded by those who conversed

with him, is full of such passages as these; and indeed the serious

and attentive study of it, is the best way to get right measures

of humility, and all the other parts of religion, which I have been

endeavouring to describe.

Let me here subjoin a prayer that may be proper when one, who had

formerly entertained some false notions of religion, begins to discover

what it is.

A PRAYER.

_Infinite and eternal Majesty, author and fountain of being and

blessedness, how little do we poor sinful creatures know of thee, or

the way to serve and please thee? We talk of religion, and pretend unto

it; but alas! How few are there that know what it means? How easily do

we mistake the affections of our nature, for those divine graces which

alone are acceptable in thy sight? It may justly grieve me to consider,

that I should have wandered so long, and contented myself so often

with vain shadows of religion; yet I cannot but acknowledge and adore

thy goodness, who hast been pleased, in some measure, to open mine

eyes, and let me see what it is at which I ought to aim. I rejoice

to consider what mighty improvements my nature is capable of and what

a divine temper doth shine in those whom thou causest to approach

thee. Blessed be thine infinite mercy, who sentest thine own Son to

dwell among men, and instruct them by his example, as well as his laws,

giving them a perfect pattern of what they ought to be. O that the holy

life of the blessed Jesus may be always in my thoughts, till I receive

a deep sense and impression of those graces that shined so eminently in

him; and let me never rest, till that new and divine nature prevail in

my soul, and Christ be formed within me._

_The excellency and advantage of Religion._

1. AND now, having discovered the nature of true religion, let us fix

our meditations a little on the excellency and advantages of it. But

what words can express that inward satisfaction, those hidden pleasures,

which can never be rightly understood, but by those who feel them?

_A stranger intermeddleth not with their joy¹._ Holiness is the right

temper, the vigorous and healthful constitution of the soul: its

faculties had formerly been enfeebled and disordered, so that they

could not exercise their natural functions; it had wearied itself with

endless tossings and rollings, and was never able to find any rest.

Now that distemper being removed, it feels itself well; there is a due

harmony in its faculties, and a sprightly vigour possesseth every part:

the understanding can discern what is good, and the will can cleave

unto it; the affections are not tied to the motions of sense, and

the influence of external objects; but are stirred by more divine

impressions, are touched with a sense of invisible things.

¹ Proverbs xiv. 10.

_The excellency of divine love._

2. Let us descend into a nearer view of religion, in the several

branches of it named before. Let us consider that love wherewith holy

souls are united to God, that we may see what excellency is involved in

it. Love is that powerful passion, by which all the faculties of the

soul are determined, and on which both its perfection and happiness

depend. The worth and excellency of a soul is to be measured by the

object of its love. He who loveth mean and sordid things, doth thereby

become base and vile; but a noble and well placed affection advances

the spirit to a conformity with the perfections which it loves. The

images of these frequently present to the mind, and, by a secret energy,

insinuate into the very constitution of the soul, and mould and fashion

it unto their own likeness. Hence we see how easily lovers or friends

slide into the imitation of the persons whom they affect; and how,

even before they are aware, they begin to resemble them, not only

in the more considerable instances of their deportment, but also in

their voice and gesture, and that which we call their mein and air:

and certainly we should as well transcribe the inward beauties of the

soul, if they were the object and motive of our love. But as all the

creatures we converse with have their mixture and alloy, we are always

in hazard to be corrupted by placing our affection on them: passion

easily blinds our eyes, so that we first approve, and then imitate the

things that are blameable in them. The true way to improve and ennoble

our souls, is by fixing our love on the divine perfections, that we

may have them always before us, and derive an impression of them on

ourselves; and _beholding, with open face, the glory of the Lord,

may be changed into the same image, from glory to glory_. He who hath

raised his eyes towards that uncreated beauty and goodness, and fixed

his affection there, is quite of another spirit, of a more excellent

and heroic temper than the rest of the world; and cannot but infinitely

disdain all mean and unworthy things, will not entertain any low or

base thoughts, which might disparage his high and noble pretensions.

Love is the greatest and most excellent thing we are masters of; and

therefore it is folly and baseness to bestow it unworthily. It is

indeed the only thing we can call our own; other things may be taken

from us by violence, but none can ravish our love. Is any thing else be

counted ours, by giving our love, we give all, so far as we make over

our hearts and wills, by which we possess our other enjoyments. It is

not possible to refuse him any thing, to whom, by love, we have given

ourselves; nay, since it is the privilege of gifts, to receive their

value from the mind of the giver, and not to be measured by the event,

but by the desire, he who loveth, may, in some sense, be said not

only to bestow all that he hath, but all things else which may make

the beloved person happy; since he doth heartily wish them, and would

really give them, if they were in his power. Certainly therefore love

is the worthiest present we can offer unto God, and it is extremely

debased when we bestow it another way.

3. When this affection is misplaced, it doth often vent itself in

such expressions, as point at its proper object. The blasphemous terms

of adoration, wherein men sometimes express their passion, are the

language of that affection which was designed for God; as he who is

accustomed to speak to some great person, doth perhaps unawares accost

another with those titles he was wont to give him: But certainly that

passion which accounteth its object a Deity, ought to be bestowed on

him who really is so; those unlimited submissions, which debase the

soul, is directed to any other, will exalt and ennoble it, when placed

here. Those chains and cords of love, are infinitely more glorious than

liberty itself; this slavery is more noble than all the empires in the

world.

_The advantages of divine love._

4. Again, as divine love advances and elevates the soul, so it is

that alone which can make it happy. The highest pleasures, the most

substantial delights, that human nature is capable of, are those

which arise from a well-placed and successful affection. That which

imbitters love, and makes it ordinarily a very troublesome passion,

is the placing it on those who have not worth enough to deserve it,

or gratitude to requite it, or whose absence may deprive us of their

converse, or their miseries occasion our trouble. To all these evils

are they exposed, whose chief affection is placed on creatures; but the

love of God delivers us from them all.

_The worth of the object._

5. First, Love must needs be full of disquietude, when there is not

excellency in the object to answer the vastness of its capacity: So

violent a passion cannot but torment the spirit when it finds not

wherewith to satisfy its cravings; and indeed so large and unbounded is

its nature: that it must be extremely straitened, when confined to any

creature: nothing below an infinite good can afford it room to stretch

itself, and exert its vigour and activity. What is a little skin-deep

beauty, or some small degrees of goodness, to satisfy a passion which

was made for God? No wonder lovers do so hardly suffer any rival, and

do not desire that others should approve their passion by imitating it:

They know the scantiness of the good which they love, that it cannot

suffice two, being in effect too little for one. Hence love, _which is

strong as death_, occasioneth _jealousy, which is cruel as the grave;

the coals whereof are coals of fire, which hath a most violent flame_.

6. But divine love hath no mixture of this gall. When once the soul

is fixed on that supreme good, it finds so much goodness, as doth not

only satisfy its affection, but overpower it too: It finds all its love

to be too languid for such an object, and is only sorry that it can

command no more: It wishes for the flames of a _Seraph_, and longs for

the time when it shall be wholly dissolved in love. And because it can

do so little itself, it desires the assistance of the whole creation,

that angels and men would concur with it in the admiration and love of

these infinite perfections.

_The certainty to be beloved again._

7. Again, love is accompanied with trouble, when it misses a suitable

return of affection. Love is the most valuable thing we can bestow,

and by giving it, we in effect give all that we have: and therefore it

must needs be afflicting, to find so great a gift despised; that the

present which one hath made of his whole heart cannot obtain any return.

Perfect love is a kind of wandering out of ourselves; it is a sort

of voluntary death, wherein the lover dies to himself, and all his

own interests; not thinking of them, nor caring for them; and minding

nothing but how he may please the party whom he loves. Thus he is

quite undone, unless he meets with reciprocal affection; he neglects

himself, and the other hath no regard to him: But if he be beloved, he

is revived, as it were, and liveth in the soul and care of the person

whom he loves. And now he begins to mind his own concernments, not so

much because they are his, as because the beloved is pleased to own an

interest in them; he becomes dear unto himself, because he is so unto

the other.

8. And herein the divine lover hath unspeakably the advantage, having

placed his affection on him whose nature is love, whose goodness is

as infinite as his being; whose mercy prevented us, when we were his

enemies, therefore cannot chuse but embrace us, when we are become

his friends. It is impossible that God should deny his love to a soul

devoted to him, and which desires nothing so much as to please him. He

cannot disdain his own image, nor the heart on which it is engraven.

Love is all the tribute which we can pay him, and it is the sacrifice

which he will not despise.

_The presence of the beloved person._

9. Another thing which disturbs the pleasure of love, and renders it a

miserable and unquiet passion, is absence from those we love. It is not

without a sensible affliction that friends part, tho’ for some little

time: But if death have made the separation, as some time or other

it must, this occasions a grief scarce to be parallel’d by all the

misfortunes of human life. But, O how happy are those who have placed

their love on him, who can never be absent from them! They need but

open their eyes, and they shall every where behold the traces of his

presence and glory, and converse with him whom their soul loveth; and

this makes the darkest prison, or wildest desart, not only supportable,

but delightful to them.

_The divine love makes us partake of an infinite happiness._

10. In fine, a lover is miserable, if the person whom he loveth be

so. They who have made an exchange of hearts by love, get thereby an

interest in one another’s happiness and misery; and this makes love a

troublesome passion, when placed on earth. The most fortunate person

hath grief enough to mar the tranquillity of his friend: and it is hard

to hold out, when we are attacked on all hands, and suffer not only in

our own person, but in another’s: But if God be the object of our love,

we share in an infinite happiness. We rejoice to behold the glory of

God, and receive comfort and pleasure from all the praises wherewith

men and angels extol him. It delights us beyond expression to consider,

that the Beloved of our souls is infinitely happy in himself, and that

all his enemies cannot shake or unsettle his throne: _That our God is

in the heavens, and doth whatever pleaseth him_.

Behold, on what sure foundations his happiness is built, whose soul is

possessed with divine love, whose will is transformed into the will of

God, and whose sole desire is, that his Maker should be pleased! O the

peace, the rest, the satisfaction, that attendeth such a temper of mind!

_He that loveth God finds sweetness in every dispensation._

11. What an infinite pleasure must it needs be, thus as it were to lose

ourselves in him; and, being swallowed up in the overcoming sense of

his goodness, to offer ourselves a living sacrifice, always ascending

unto him in flames of love? Never doth a soul know what solid joy is,

till it give itself up unto the author of its being, and feel itself

become a devoted thing; and can say, from an inward sense and feeling,

_My Beloved is mine, and I am his_: I am content to be any thing

for him, and care not for myself, but that I may serve him. A person

moulded into this temper, finds pleasure in all the dispensations of

providence: temporal enjoyments have another relish, when he tastes the

divine goodness in them, and considers them as tokens of love sent by

his dearest Lord and Maker: and chastisements hereby lose their sting;

the rod, as well as the staff, comfort him: he rejoices, that though

God does not the will of such a worthless creature as himself, yet he

accomplishes his own designs; which are infinitely more holy and wise.

_The duties of religion are delightful to him._

12. The exercises of religion, which to others are insipid, yield the

highest pleasure to souls possessed with divine love: they rejoice

when they are called to _go up to the house of the Lord_, that they

may _see his power and his glory, as they have formerly seen it in

his sanctuary_¹. They never think themselves so happy, as when, having

retired from the world, they have placed themselves in the presence

of God, and entertain communion with him: they delight to adore his

perfections, and recount his favours; and to protest their affection to

him, and tell him a thousand times that they love him; to lay out their

troubles or wants before him, and disburthen their hearts in his bosom.

Repentance itself is a delightful exercise, when it floweth from the

principle of love. There is a secret sweetness which accompanies those

tears of remorse, those meltings of a soul returning unto God, and

lamenting its former unkindness.

¹ Psalms lxiii. 2.

13. The severities of a holy life, and that constant watch which we

are obliged to keep over our hearts and ways, are troublesome to those

who are only ruled by an external law, and have no law in their minds

inclining them to their duty. But where divine love possesseth the

soul, it stands as centinel to keep out every thing that may offend

the Beloved. It complieth chearfully, not only with explicit commands,

but with the most secret notices of the Beloved’s pleasure; and is

ingenious in discovering what will be most grateful and acceptable

unto him. It makes mortification and self-denial change their harsh

and dreadful names, and become easy, sweet and delightful things.

_The excellency of charity._

14. The next branch of the divine life is _universal love_ to man.

The excellency of this grace will be easily acknowledged; for what

can be more noble than a heart enlarged to embrace the whole world?

Whose wishes and designs are levelled at the welfare of the universe,

which considereth every man’s interest as its own? He, who loveth

his neighbour as himself, can never entertain any base or injurious

thought, or be wanting in any expressions of bounty. He had rather

suffer a thousand wrongs, than be guilty of one; and never accounts

himself happy, but when some one or other hath been benefited by him.

The malice or ingratitude of men is not able to resist his love. He

overlooks their injuries, and pities their folly, and overcomes their

evil with good; and never designs any other revenge against his most

bitter and malicious enemies, than to put all the obligations he can

upon them, whether they will or not. This inward goodness and benignity

of spirit reflects a sweetness and serenity upon the very countenance,

and makes it amiable and lovely: it inspires the soul with a noble

resolution and courage, and makes it capable of enterprising and

effecting the highest things: those heroic actions which we are wont

to read with admiration, have, for the most part, been the effects of

the love of one’s country, or of particular friendships; and certainly

a more extensive affection must be much more powerful and efficacious.

_The pleasure that attends it._

15. Again, as _charity_ flows from an excellent temper, so it is

accompanied with the greatest satisfaction. It delights the soul to

feel itself thus enlarged; to be delivered from those disquieting

passions, malice, hatred, and envy; and to become gentle, sweet, and

benign. Had I my choice of all things for my present felicity, I would

pitch upon this, to have my heart possessed with the greatest kindness

and affection towards all men. I am sure this would make me partake

in all the happiness of others, their inward endowments, and outward

prosperity. And though I should frequently meet with occasions of grief,

yet there is a sweetness in commiseration, which makes it infinitely

more desirable than a stupid insensibility. And the consideration

of that infinite goodness and wisdom, which govern the world, might

repress any excessive trouble for particular calamities that happen

in it. Certainly, next to the love of God, that ardent affection

wherewith blessed souls embrace one another, is justly to be reckoned

as the greatest felicity of those regions above. And did it universally

prevail in the world, it would anticipate that blessedness, and make us

taste the joys of heaven upon earth.

_The excellency of purity._

16. A third branch of religion is _purity_; a contempt of sensual

pleasures, and resoluteness to undergo those troubles and pains we

may meet with in the performance of our duty. Now, the naming of this

may suffice to recommend it as a most excellent quality. There is

no slavery so base, as that whereby a man becomes a drudge to his

own lusts. Never can that person be capable of any thing noble, who

is sunk in the gross pleasures of sense, or bewitched with the airy

gratifications of fancy. But the religious soul is of a more sublime

and divine temper. It knows it was made for higher things, and scorns

to step aside one foot out of the ways of holiness, for obtaining any

of these.

_The delight it affords._

17. And this _purity_ is accompanied with a great deal of pleasure.

Whatsoever defiles the soul disturbs it too. All impure delights have

a sting in them, and leave smart and trouble behind them. Excess and

intemperance, and all inordinate lusts, are so much enemies to the

health of the body, and the interests of this present life, that a

little consideration might oblige any rational man to forbear them on

that very score. And if the religious person go higher, and do not only

abstain from noxious pleasures, but neglect those that are innocent,

this is not to be looked upon as any uneasy restraint, but as the

effect of better choice: his mind is so taken up with sublime delights,

that he cannot be concerned in these. Any person that is engaged in

a violent affection, will easily forget his ordinary gratification;

will be little curious about his diet, or his bodily ease, or the

divertisements he was wont to delight in. No wonder then, if souls,

overpowered with divine love, despise inferior pleasures, and be

almost ready to grudge the body its necessary attendance for the common

accommodations of life, judging all these impertinent to their main

happiness, and those higher enjoyments they are pursuing. As for the

hardships they may meet with, they rejoice in them, as opportunities

to testify their affection: and since they are able to do so little for

God, they are glad of the honour to suffer for him.

_The excellency of humility._

18. The last branch of religion is _humility_; and however, to vulgar

eyes, this may appear a despicable quality, yet, really, the soul

of man is not capable of a higher and more noble endowment. It is a

silly ignorance that begets pride; but humility arises from a nearer

acquaintance with excellent things, which keeps men from doating on

trifles, or admiring themselves because of some petty attainments.

I know not what thoughts people may have of _humility_, but I see

almost every person pretending to it, and shunning such expressions

and actions as may make them be accounted arrogant and presumptuous;

so that those who are most desirous of praise, are loth to commend

themselves. What are all those compliments and modes of civility so

♦frequent in our ordinary converse, but so many protestations of the

esteem of others, and the low thoughts we have of ourselves? And must

not humility be an excellent endowment, when the very shadows of it are

so necessary a part of good breeding?

♦ “frequently” replaced with “frequent” per Errata

_The pleasure and sweetness of an humble temper._

19. Again, this grace is accompanied with a great deal of happiness.

The proud person is a trouble to all that converse with him, but

most of all to himself. Every thing is enough to vex him; but scarce

any thing sufficient to please him. But the humble person hath the

advantage when he is despised, that none can think more meanly of him

than he doth of himself; and as he is less affected with injuries,

so he is less obnoxious to them. _Contention, which cometh of pride_,

betrays a man into a thousand ♦inconveniences, which those of a meek

and lowly temper seldom meet with. True humility begets veneration

among wise men, whilst pride defeateth its own design, and depriveth

a man of that honour it makes him pretend to.

♦ “inconvenices” replaced with “inconveniences”

20. And the exercises of humility which relate to God, are accompanied

with the greatest satisfaction. It is impossible to express the delight

which religious persons feel in the lowest prostrations of their

soul before God; when having a deep sense of the divine Majesty, they

sink (if I may so speak) to the bottom of their beings, and vanish

and disappear in the presence of God, by a serious and affectionate

acknowledgement of their own nothingness; when they understand the full

sense of the psalmist’s exclamation, _Lord, what is man?_ And can utter

it with the same affection. Never did any haughty person receive the

praises of men with so much pleasure as the humble renounce them, _Not

unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory_.

21. Thus I have spoken something of the excellencies and advantages of

religion in its several branches. Let us acquaint ourselves with it,

and experience will teach us more than all that ever hath been spoken

or written concerning it. If we may suppose the soul to be already

awakened unto some longing desires after so great a blessedness, it

will be good to give them vent, and suffer them to issue forth in some

such aspirations as these.

A PRAYER.

_GOOD God! what a mighty felicity is this to which we are called?

How graciously hast thou joined our duty and happiness together,

and prescribed that for our work, the performance whereof is a great

reward? And shall such silly worms be advanced to so great a height?

Wilt thou allow us to raise our eyes to thee? Wilt thou admit and

accept our affection? Shall we receive the impression, of thy divine

excellencies, by beholding and admiring them, and partake of thy

infinite blessedness and glory, by loving thee, and rejoicing in them?

O the happiness of those souls that are disintangled from every narrow

good; whose understandings are enlightened by the holy Spirit, and

their wills enlarged to the extent of thine; who love thee above all

things, and all mankind for thy sake! I am persuaded, O God, I am

persuaded, that I can never be happy, till my corrupt affections be

mortified, and the pride and vanity of my spirit subdued, and till I

come seriously to despise the world, and think nothing of myself. But

O when shall it once be? O when wilt thou come unto me, and satisfy my

soul with thy likeness, making me holy as thou art holy, even in all

manner of conversation? Hast thou given me a prospect of so great a

felicity, and wilt thou not bring me unto it? Hast thou excited these

desires in my soul, and wilt thou not also satisfy them? O teach me

to do thy will, for thou art my God; thy Spirit is good, lead me unto

the land of uprightness. Quicken me, O Lord, for thy name’s sake, and

perfect that which concerneth me. Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth for ever,

forsake not the work of thine own hands._

_The despondent thoughts of some newly awakened

to a right sense of things._

1. I HAVE hitherto considered wherein true religion consists, and how

desirable a thing it is; but when one sees how infinitely distant he is

from it, he may perhaps be ready to despond; he may sit down in sadness,

and bemoan himself, and say, in the ♦anguish of his spirit, “They are

happy indeed whose souls enjoy the divine life, who are thus renewed in

the spirit of their minds; but alas! I am quite of another constitution.

If outward observances could have done, I might have hoped to acquit

myself: but since nothing but a new nature can serve, what am I able to

do? I could give all my goods to the poor, but cannot command that love,

without which this would profit me nothing. This gift of God cannot be

purchased with money¹. If a man should give all the substance of his

house for love, it would be utterly contemned². I could pine my body;

but I cannot starve my corruptions, nor wean my affections from earthly

things. I am many times convinced of my own vileness; but this rather

begets discontent in me, than true humility; and though I should come

to think meanly of myself, yet I cannot endure that others should think

so too. In a word, when I reflect on my most specious attainments, I

have reason to suspect that they are all but the effects of nature; and

sin is so powerful and so deeply rooted in me, that I can never hope to

be delivered from it. I may toss and turn as a door on the hinges, but

can never get clear off; so that all the advantage I can draw from the

discovery of religion, is but to see, at a huge distance, that felicity

which I am not able to reach; like a man in a shipwreck, who discerns

the land, and envies the happiness of those there, but cannot himself

get ashore.”

♦ “auguish” replaced with “anguish”

¹ Acts viii. 20.

² Canticles viii. 7.

_The unreasonableness of these fears._

2. These, or such-like thoughts, may arise in the minds of those who

begin to conceive the nature and excellency of religion. They have

spied the land, and seen that it is exceeding good, that it floweth

with milk and honey; but they find they have the children of _Anak_

to grapple with, powerful corruptions to overcome, and they fear they

shall never prevail against them. But why should we give way to such

discouraging suggestions? Why should we entertain such unreasonable

fears, which damp our spirits and weaken our hands, and augment the

difficulties of our way? Let us encourage ourselves with those mighty

aids we are to expect in this spiritual warfare; for greater is he

that is for us, than all that can rise up against us. _The eternal

God is our refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. Let us

be strong in the Lord, and the power of his might_; for he it is that

shall _tread down our enemies_. God hath a tender regard to the souls

of men, and is infinitely willing to promote their welfare. He hath

condescended to our weakness, and declared with an oath, that he hath

no pleasure in our destruction. There is no such thing as despite in

the bosom of that ever blessed being, whose name and nature is love.

He created us at first in a happy condition, and now when we are fallen

from it, _he hath laid help upon one that is mighty to save_¹, hath

committed the care of our souls to no meaner a person than the eternal

Son of his love. It is he that is the captain of our salvation, and

what enemies can be too strong for us, when we are fighting under his

banner? Did not the Son of God come down from the bosom of his Father,

and pitch his tabernacle amongst men, that he might recover them to

the divine life, and restore the image of God in their souls? All the

mighty works he performed, all the afflictions he sustained, had this

for their scope and design: for this did he labour and toil; for this

did he bleed and die. _He was with child, he was in pain, and hath he

brought forth nothing but wind²? Hath he wrought no deliverance in the

earth? Shall he not see of the travail of his soul³?_ Certainly it is

impossible that this great contrivance of heaven should prove abortive,

that such a mighty undertaking should miscarry. It hath already been

effectual for the salvation of many thousands, who were once as far

from the kingdom of heaven as we. And our _high priest continueth for

ever, and is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by

him_⁴. He is tender and compassionate; he knoweth our infirmities, and

had experience of our temptations. _A bruised reed will he not break,

and smoaking flax will he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto

victory⁵._ He hath sent out his Holy Spirit, whose sweet but powerful

breathings are still moving up and down in the world, to quicken the

souls of men, and awaken them unto the sense and feeling of those

divine things for which they were made. He is ready to assist such weak

and languishing creatures as we are, in our essays towards holiness.

And when once it hath taken hold of a soul, and kindled in it the

smallest spark of divine love, will he not preserve and cherish, and

bring it forth into a flame, which many waters shall not quench⁶.

Whenever this day begins to dawn, and _the day-star to rise in their

heart_⁷, it will dispel the powers of darkness, and make ignorance and

folly, and all corrupt affections, flee away as fast before it as the

shades of night, when the sun cometh out of his chambers. _For the path

of the just is as the shining light, which shineth more and more unto

the perfect day⁸. They shall go on from strength to strength, till

every one of them appear before God in Sion⁹._

¹ Psalms lxxxix. 19.

² Isaiah xxvi. 18.

³ Isaiah liii. 11.

⁴ Hebrews vii. 24, 25.

⁵ Matthew xii. 29.

⁶ Canticles viii. 7.

⁷ 2 Peter i. 19.

⁸ Proverbs iv. 18.

⁹ Psalms lxxxiv. 7.

3. Why should we think it impossible that true goodness and universal

love should come to sway and prevail in our souls? Is not this their

primitive condition, as they came out of the hands of their maker? Sin

and corruption are but usurpers; and though they have long kept the

possession, yet _from the beginning it was not so_. That inordinate

self-love which one would think were interwoven with our nature, is

nevertheless of foreign extraction, and had no place at all in the

state of integrity. We have still so much reason left as to condemn

it. Our understandings are easily convinced that we ought to be wholly

devoted to him from whom we have our being, and to love him infinitely

more than ourselves, who is infinitely better than we. And our wills

would readily comply with this, if they were not disordered and out of

tune. And is not he who made our souls able to mend them again? Shall

we not be able, by his assistance, to vanquish and expel those violent

intruders, _and turn unto flight the armies of the aliens_¹.

¹ Hebrews xi. 34.

4. No sooner shall we take up arms in this holy war, but we shall

have all the saints on earth, and all the angels in heaven engaged on

our side. The holy church throughout the world is daily interceding

with God for the success of all such endeavours. And doubtless those

heavenly hosts above, are nearly concerned in the interests of religion,

and infinitely desirous to see the divine life prevailing in this

inferior world, and that the will of God may be done by us on earth, as

it is done by them in heaven. May we not then encourage ourselves, as

the prophet did his servant, when he shewed him the horses and chariots

of fire, _Fear not, for they that be with us, are more than they that

are against us_¹?

¹ 2 Kings vi. 16, 17.

_We must do what we can, and depend on the divine assistance._

5. Away then with all desponding thoughts. To undertake vigorously,

and rely confidently on the divine assistance, is more than half the

conquest: _Let us arise and be doing, and the Lord will be with us_¹.

It is true, religion in the souls of men is the immediate work of God,

and all our natural endeavours can neither produce it alone, nor merit

those supernatural aids by which it must be wrought. The Holy Ghost

must come upon us, and the power of the Highest overshadow us, before

that holy thing can be begotten, and Christ formed in us. But yet we

must not expect that this work should be done without any endeavours

of our own; we must not lie loitering in the ditch, and wait till

omnipotence pull us thence; no, no, we must bestir ourselves, and

actuate these powers which we have already received. We must put forth

ourselves to our utmost capacities, and then _our labour shall not

be vain in the Lord_². All the art and industry of man cannot form

the smallest herb, or make a stalk of corn to grow in the field. It

is the energy of nature, and the influences of heaven, which produce

this effect. It is God _who causeth the grass to grow, and herb for

the service of man_³; and yet nobody will say that the labours of the

husbandman are useless or unnecessary. So likewise the human soul is

immediately created by God; it is he who both formeth and enliveneth

the child, and yet he hath appointed the marriage-bed as the ordinary

means for the propagation of mankind: and so, though there must

intervene a stroke of omnipotence to effect this mighty change in our

souls; yet ought we to do what we can, that we may be more ready to

receive the seeds of grace and the dew of heaven. It is true, God hath

been found of some who sought him not; he hath cast himself in their

way who were quite out of his; he hath laid hold upon them, and stopt

their course on a sudden; for so was St. _Paul_ converted in his

journey to _Damascus_. But certainly this is not God’s ordinary method

of dealing with men: though he hath not tied himself to means, yet

he hath tied us to the use of them; and we have never more reason

to expect the divine assistance, than when we are doing our utmost

endeavours. It shall therefore be my next work to shew what course we

may take for attaining that blessed temper I have described.

¹ 1 Chronicles xxii. 16.

² 1 Corinthians xv. 58.

³ Psalms civ. 14.

_We must shun all manner of sin._

6. Now if we desire to have our souls moulded to this holy frame, and

have Christ formed in our hearts, we must carefully avoid all sinful

practices. There can be no treaty of peace, till we lay down these

weapons of rebellion wherewith we fight against heaven; nor can we

expect to have our distempers cured, if we be daily feeding on poison.

Every wilful sin gives a mortal wound to the soul, and puts it at a

greater distance from God. And we can never hope to have our hearts

purified from corrupt affections, till our hands are cleansed from

vicious actions.

_We must know what things are sinful._

7. And, first, Let us inform ourselves well what those sins are from

which we ought to abstain. And here we must not take our measures from

the maxims of the world, or the practices of those whom in charity, we

account good men. Most people have very light apprehensions of these

things, and are not sensible of any fault, unless it be gross. And

those who are more serious, many times allow themselves too great

latitude. Alas! how much pride, and vanity, and passion; how much

weakness and folly doth every day show itself in their converse and

behaviour! It may be they are humbled for it, and striving against

it, but the progress is so small, and their failings so many, that we

had need to chuse an exacter pattern. Every one of us must answer for

himself, and the practice of others will never warrant and secure us.

It is the highest folly to regulate our actions by any other standard,

than that by which they must be judged. If ever therefore we would

_cleanse our way_, it must be _by taking heed thereto according to

the word of God_¹. And that _word which is quick and powerful, and

sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder

of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow_², will certainly

discover many things to be sinful, which pass for very innocent in the

eyes of the world. Let us therefore imitate the psalmist, who saith,

_Concerning the works of men, by the words of thy lips, I have kept

myself from the path of the destroyer_³. Let us acquaint ourselves well

with the holy laws of our religion: let us consider the discourses of

our blessed Saviour, (especially that divine sermon on the mount) and

the writings of his holy apostles; where an unbiassed mind may clearly

discern those bounds by which our actions ought to be confined: and

then let us never look upon any sin as light and inconsiderable, but be

fully persuaded, that the smallest is infinitely heinous in the sight

of God, and prejudicial to the souls of men: and that if we had the

right sense of things, we should be as deeply affected with the least

irregularities, as now we are with the greatest crimes.

¹ Psalms cxix. 9.

² Hebrews iv. 12.

³ Psalms xvii. 4.

_We must resist temptations._

8. Among those things which we discover to be sinful, there will be

some to which, through our nature, or long custom, we are so wedded,

that it will be like cutting of the right-hand, or pulling out the

right-eye, to abandon them. But must we therefore sit down and wait

till all difficulties be over, and every temptation be gone? This

were to imitate the fool in the poet, who stood the whole day at the

river-side, till all the water should run by. We must not indulge our

inclinations, as we do little children, till they grow weary of the

thing they are unwilling to let go. We must not continue our sinful

practices, in hopes that the divine grace will one day over-power us.

9. If the heinous nature of sin cannot affect us, at least we may be

frighted by its dreadful consequences. That selfish principle which

pusheth us forward to sinful pleasures, may make us loath to buy them

at the rate of everlasting misery. Let us therefore accustom ourselves

to consider seriously what a fearful thing it must be to offend that

infinite Being, on whom we depend every moment; who needs but withdraw

his mercies to make us miserable, or his assistance to make us nothing.

Let us remember the shortness and uncertainty of our lives, and that

after we have taken a few turns more in the world, and conversed a

little longer amongst men, we must all go down to the dark and silent

grave, and carry nothing along with us but anguish and regret for all

our sinful enjoyments. What horror must then seize the guilty soul,

to find itself naked and all alone before the impartial judge of the

world, to render an exact account, not only of its more considerable

transactions, but of every word that the tongue hath uttered, and the

most secret thought that ever passed through the mind? Let us represent

to ourselves the terrors of that dreadful day, when _the foundations

of the earth shall be shaken, the heavens shall pass away with a great

noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat_¹. The present

frame of nature shall be dissolved, and our eyes shall behold the

blessed Jesus, (who came once into the world in all humility to visit

us, to purchase pardon for us, and beseech us to accept of it) now

appearing in the majesty of his glory, and descending from heaven

_in flaming fire, to take vengeance on those_ that have despised his

mercy. Then all the hidden things of darkness shall be brought to

light, and the counsels of the heart made manifest². Then those secret

impurities and subtle frauds whereof the world did never suspect

us, shall be exposed and laid open to public view; and many thousand

actions which we never dreamed to be sinful, shall be charged home upon

our consciences, with such evident convictions of guilt, that we shall

neither be able to deny, or excuse them. Then shall all the angels in

heaven, and all the saints that ever lived on the earth, approve that

dreadful sentence which shall be passed on wicked men; and those who

loved and esteemed them when in the world, shall look upon them with

indignation and abhorrence.

¹ 2 Peter iii. 10.

² 1 Corinthians iv. 5.

10. ’Tis true, this is a melancholy subject; there is horror in the

consideration of it: but sure it must be infinitely more dreadful to

endure it; and such thoughts as these may be useful to fright us from

the courses that would lead us thither. How fond soever we may be of

sinful pleasures, we shall startle when pressed with that question,

_Who can dwell with everlasting burnings_¹.

¹ Isaiah xxxiii. 14.

_We must keep a constant watch over ourselves._

11. But it will not suffice to consider those things once and again,

nor to form some resolutions of abandoning our sins, unless we maintain

a constant guard, and be constantly watching against them. Sometimes

the mind is awakened, and we resolve to reform: but alas! it presently

falleth asleep, and we lose that prospect which we had, and then

temptations take the advantage; they solicit us continually, and

frequently engage our consent before we are aware. It is the folly and

ruin of most people to live at adventure, seldom considering what they

are about to say or do. If we would have our resolutions take effect,

we must take heed unto our ways, set a watch before the door of our

lips, and examine the motions that arise in our heart, whence they come,

and whither they go; whether it be pride or passion, or any corrupt

humour, that prompteth us to any design, and whether God will be

pleased with it? And if we have no time for long reasonings, let us at

least turn our eyes towards God, and place ourselves in his presence,

to ask his leave and approbation for what we do. Let us consider

ourselves under the all-seeing eye of that divine majesty, as in the

midst of an infinite globe of light; which compasseth us about both

behind and before, and pierceth to the inmost corners of our soul. The

sense of the divine presence is a ready means, both to discover what

is unlawful, and to restrain us from it. There are some things a person

could make a shift to defend, and yet he dares not look God in the

face, and adventure upon them. If we look unto him we shall be lightned;

if we _set him always before us_, he will _guide us by his eye, and

instruct us in the way wherein we ought to walk_.

_We must often examine our actions._

12. This care and watchfulness over our actions, must be seconded by

frequent and serious reflections upon them; not only that we may obtain

the divine mercy; but that we may strengthen our resolutions, and learn

to decline or resist temptations. It is an advice worthy of a Christian,

though it first dropped from a Heathen pen, that before we betake

ourselves to rest, we renew and examine all the passages of the day,

that we may redress what we find to have been amiss, and make the

shipwrecks of one day be as marks to direct our course in another.

But, withal, we must not forget to implore the divine assistance,

especially against those sins that most easily beset us: and though our

hearts are not yet moulded into that spiritual frame, yet methinks such

considerations as have been proposed may stir us up to some seriousness,

and make our prayers against it as earnest, at least, as they are wont

to be against other calamities; and I doubt not but God, who heareth

the cry of the ravens, will have some regard even to such petitions as

proceed from those natural passions which himself hath implanted in us.

_It is fit to restrain ourselves in many lawful things._

13. Thus we are to make the first essay for recovering the divine

life, by restraining the natural inclinations, that they break not out

into sinful practices. But Christian prudence will teach us to abstain

from gratifications that are not simply unlawful; and that not only

that we may secure our innocence, which would be in continual hazard,

if we should strain our liberty to the utmost point; but also that we

may teach our appetites to obey, as prudent parents deal with their

children, who cross their wills in many little things, to make them

manageable in more considerable instances. He who would mortify the

pride and vanity of his spirit, should stop his ears to the most

deserved praises, and sometimes forbear his just vindication, from

the censures and aspersions of others. He who would check a revengeful

humour, would do well to deny himself the satisfaction of representing

to others the injuries he hath sustained. And if we would so take

heed to our ways, that we sin not with our tongue, we must accustom

ourselves to solitude and silence. Thus we may make our appetites more

moderate in their cravings, by accustoming them to frequent refusals;

but it is not enough to have them under violence and restraint.

_We must strive to put ourselves out of love with the world._

14. Our next essay must be to possess our minds with a deep persuasion

of the vanity and emptiness of worldly enjoyments. This is an ordinary

theme, but alas! how few understand and believe what they say? These

notions float in our brains, and come sliding off our tongues, but

we have no deep impression of them on our spirits. We feel not the

truth which we pretend to believe. We can tell that all the glory

and splendor, all the pleasures of the world, are vanity and nothing;

and yet these nothings take up all our thoughts, and engross all

our affections. Perhaps sometimes we resolve to be no longer deluded

with them; but these thoughts seldom outlive the next temptation. And

after we have been frustrated a thousand times, we must continually

be repeating the experiment. The least difference of circumstances

is enough to make us expect that satisfaction in one thing, which we

missed in another. But had we once a real contempt of worldly things,

this were a considerable advancement in our way. The soul of man is of

a vigorous and active nature, and hath in it an unextinguishable thirst,

an immaterial kind of fire, always catching at some object or other, in

conjunction wherewith it thinks to be happy: and were it once rent from

the world, it would search after some higher object, to satisfy its

importunate cravings. The love of the world and the love of God, are

like the scales of a balance, as the one falleth the other doth rise.

It therefore nearly concerns us to be convinced of the emptiness and

vanity of creature enjoyments. Let us seriously consider what our

reason and faith, our own experience, and the observation of others

suggest. Amidst all our pursuits and designs, let us stop and ask

ourselves, for what end is this? At what do I aim? Can the gross

pleasures of sense, or a heap of white or yellow earth, or the esteem

of silly creatures like myself, satisfy an immortal soul? Have I not

tried these things already? Will they have a higher relish, and yield

me more contentment to-morrow than yesterday, or the next year than

they did the last? There may be some little difference between that

which I am now pursuing, and that which I enjoyed before: but sure

my former enjoyments did shew as pleasant, and promise as fair before

I attained them. Like the rainbow, they ♦looked very glorious at a

distance, but when I approached, I found nothing but emptiness and

vapour. O what a poor thing would the life of man be, if it were

capable of no higher enjoyments!

♦ “look” replaced with “looked” per Errata

_We must do those outward actions that are commanded._

15. When our inclinations towards worldly things are in some measure

subdued, we must proceed conscientiously to perform those duties which

religion ♦requires. If we cannot get our inward dispositions presently

changed, let us study at least to regulate our outward deportment: if

our hearts be not yet inflamed with divine love, let us however ♠own

our allegiance to that infinite Majesty, by attending his service, and

listening to his word; by speaking reverently of his name; and praising

his goodness, and exhorting others to serve and obey him. If we want

that charity, and those bowels of compassion which we ought to have

towards our neighbours, yet must we not omit any occasion of doing them

good. If our hearts be haughty and proud, we must nevertheless study a

modest and humble deportment. These external performances are of little

value in themselves, yet may they help us forward to better things. It

is always good to be doing what we can, for then God is wont to assist

our feeble endeavours. Nor need we fear the imputation of hypocrisy,

though our actions thus somewhat out-run our affections, seeing they

still proceed from a sense of our duty, and our design is not to appear

better than we are, but that we may really become so.

♦ “require” replaced with “requires” per Errata

♠ “owe” replaced with “own” per Errata

_We must endeavour to form internal acts

of devotion, charity, &c._

16. Moreover, let us be often lifting up our hearts to God; and if

we do not say that we love him above all things, let us at least

acknowledge that it is our duty, and would be our happiness so to do.

Let us lament the dishonour done him by sinful men, and applaud the

praises that are given him by that glorious company above. Let us yield

ourselves up to him a thousand times, to be governed by his laws, and

disposed of at his pleasure: and though our stubborn heart start back,

yet let us tell him we are convinced that his will is always just and

good; and therefore desire him to do with us whatsoever he pleaseth,

whether we will or not.

Thus should we exercise ourselves unto godliness: and when we are

employing the powers that we have, the Spirit of God is wont to strike

in, and elevate these acts of our soul beyond the pitch of nature, and

give them a divine impression.

_Consideration a great instrument of religion._

17. I shall mention but two other helps; and the first is, deep and

serious consideration. *The assent which is ordinarily given to divine

truths, is very faint and languid. Men are unwilling to quarrel with

the religion of their country; but are seldom at the pains to consider

what they profess to believe; and thence it is, that they have so

little influence on their practice. Those _spiritless and paralytic

thoughts_ (as one rightly terms them) are not able to move the will,

and direct the hand. We must therefore labour for a full persuasion

of divine truths, a sense and feeling of spiritual things. Let us

urge forward our spirits, and make them approach the invisible world,

and fix our mind upon immaterial things, till we clearly perceive

that these are no dreams; nay, that all things are dreams and shadows

besides them. When we look about us, and behold the beauty and

magnificence of this goodly frame, the order and harmony of the whole

creation, let our thoughts from thence take their flight toward that

omnipotent wisdom and goodness which did at first produce, and doth

still uphold the same. When we reflect upon ourselves, let us consider

that we are not a mere piece of organized matter, a curious and well

contrived engine; that there is more in us than flesh, and blood,

and bones, even a divine spark, capable to know, and love, and enjoy

our Maker. And though it be now exceedingly clogged with its dull and

lumpish companion; yet ere long it shall be delivered, and can subsist

without the body, as well as that can do without the cloaths, which we

throw off at our pleasure. Let us often withdraw our thoughts from this

earth, this scene of misery, and folly, and sin, and raise them towards

that glorious world; whose innocent and blessed inhabitants solace

themselves eternally in the divine presence, and know no other passion,

but an unmixed joy, and an unbounded love: and then consider how the

blessed Son of God came down to this lower world to live among us, and

die for us, that he might bring us to a portion of the same felicity;

and think how he hath overcome the sharpness of death, and opened

the kingdom of heaven to all believers, and is now set down on the

_right-hand of the Majesty on high_¹; and yet is not the less mindful

of us, but receiveth our prayers, and presenteth them unto his Father,

and is daily visiting his church with the influences of his Spirit, as

the sun reacheth us with his beams.

¹ Hebrews i. 3.

_We should consider the excellency of the divine nature._

18. Let me further suggest some particular subjects of meditation. And

first, if we would love God, let us consider the excellency of his

nature, and his love and kindness towards us. It is little we know

of the divine perfections; and yet that little may fill our souls

with admiration and love. If it be the understanding that directs the

affections, certainly the excellencies of the divine nature (the traces

whereof we cannot but discover in every thing we behold) should not

fail to engage our hearts. Shall we not be infinitely more transported

with that almighty wisdom and goodness, which fills the universe, and

displays itself in all the parts of the creation, which establisheth

the frame of nature, and turneth the mighty wheels of providence, and

keepeth the world from disorder and ruin, than with the faint rays of

the same perfections which we meet with in our fellow creatures? Shall

we doat on the scattered pieces of a rude and imperfect picture, and

never be affected with the original beauty? This were an unaccountable

stupidity and blindness. Whatever we find lovely in a friend, or in a

saint, ought not to engross, but to elevate our affection: we should

conclude with ourselves, that if there be so much sweetness in a drop,

there must be infinitely more in the fountain. If there be so much

splendor in a ray, what must the sun be in its glory?

19. Nor can we pretend the remoteness of the object, as if God were at

too great a distance for our converse or love: _he is not far from

every one of us; for in him we live, and move, and have our being_.¹ We

cannot open our eyes, but we must behold some footsteps of his glory;

and we cannot turn them toward him, but we shall be sure to find his

intent upon us, waiting as it were to catch a look, ready to entertain

the most intimate communion with us. Let us therefore endeavour to

raise our minds to the clearest conceptions of the divine nature. Let

us consider all that his works declare, or his word discovers of him

unto us; and let us especially contemplate that visible representation

of him which was made in our own nature by his Son, who was _the

brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person_,² and

who appeared in the world to discover at once what God is, and what

we ought to be. Let us represent him unto our minds as we find him

described in the gospel, and there we shall behold the perfections of

the divine nature, tho’ covered with the veil of human infirmities.

And while we contemplate a Being, infinite in power, in wisdom, and

goodness, the author and fountain of all perfections, let us pray that

our eyes may affect our heart,³ and while we are musing the fire may

burn.⁴

¹ Acts xvii. 27.

² Hebrews i. 3.

³ Lamentations iii. 51.

⁴ Psalms xxxix. 3.

_We should meditate on his goodness and love._

20. Hereunto add the consideration of God’s favour and goodwill towards

us. Now as the word of God is full of the expressions of his love

towards man, so all his works loudly proclaim it. He gave us our being,

and by preserving us in it, doth renew the donation every moment.

He hath placed us in a rich and well-furnished world, and liberally

provided for all our necessities. He raineth down blessings from heaven

upon us, and causeth the earth to bring forth our provision. He giveth

us our food and raiment; and while we are spending the productions

of one year, he is preparing for us against another. He sweetneth our

lives with innumerable comforts, and gratifieth every faculty with

suitable objects. The eye of his providence is always upon us, and

he watcheth for our safety when we are fast asleep, neither minding

him nor ourselves. But lest we should think these testimonies of

his kindness less considerable, because they are the easy issues of

his omnipotent power, and do not put him to any trouble or pain, he

hath taken a more wonderful method to endear himself to us. He hath

testified his affection to us, by suffering as well as by doing; and

because he could not suffer in his own nature, he assumed ours. The

eternal Son of God cloathed himself with the infirmities of our flesh,

and left the company of those blessed spirits, who knew well how to

love and adore him, that he might dwell among men, and wrestle with the

obstinacy of that rebellious race to reduce them to their allegiance,

and to offer himself up as a sacrifice for them. I remember one of the

poets hath an ingenious fancy to express the passion wherewith he found

himself overcome after a long resistance, _That the God of love had

shot all his golden arrows at him, but could never pierce his heart,

till at length he put himself into the bow, and darted himself straight

into his breast_. Methinks this doth someway adumbrate God’s method

of dealing with men: he had long contended with a stubborn world, and

thrown down many a blessing upon them; and when all his other gifts

could not prevail, he at last made a gift of himself. The account

which we have of our Saviour’s life in the gospel doth all along

present us with the story of his love. All the pains that he took,

and the troubles that he endured, were the wonderful effects, and

uncontroulable evidences of it. But, O that last, that dismal scene!

Is it possible to remember it, and question his kindness, or deny him

ours? Here, here it is we should fix our most serious thoughts, _that

Christ may dwell in our hearts by faith; that we being rooted and

grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints, what is

the breadth and length, and depth and height; and to know the love of

Christ, which passeth knowledge, that we may be filled with all the

fulness of God_!¹

¹ Ephesians iii. 17, 18, 19.

21. We ought also frequently to reflect on those particular tokens of

love, which God hath bestowed on ourselves; how long he hath borne with

our follies and sins, and waited to be gracious unto us; wrestling,

as it were, with the stubbornness of our hearts, and essaying every

method to reclaim us. We should keep a register in our minds of all

the eminent blessings and deliverances we have met with; some whereof

have been so conveyed, that we might clearly perceive they were not the

issues of chance, but the gracious effects of the divine favour, and

the signal returns of our prayers.

_As a help to charity, we must remember

that all men are nearly related to God._

22. If we would love all men, let us consider the relation wherein they

stand to God, and the impresses of his image, which are stamped upon

them. They are not only his creatures, the workmanship of his hands,

but such of whom he taketh special care, and for whom he hath a very

tender regard; having laid the designs of their happiness before the

foundations of the world; and being willing to live and converse with

them to all eternity. The meanest and most contemptible person whom

we behold, is the offspring of heaven, one of the children of the Most

High; and, however unworthy he may behave himself of that relation

to God, so long as God hath not disowned himself by a final sentence,

he will have us acknowledge him as one of his; and, as such, embrace

him with a cordial affection. What a concern are we wont to have for

those that any ways belong to the person whom we love? How gladly do

we lay hold on every opportunity to gratify the child or servant of a

friend? And sure our love towards God would as naturally spring forth

in charity towards men, did we mind the interest that he is pleased to

take in them; and consider that every soul is dearer to him than the

material world; and that he did not account the blood of his Son too

great a price for their redemption.

_That they carry his image upon them._

23. Again, as all men stand in a near relation to God, so they have

still so much of his image stamped on them, as may excite us to love

them. In some this image is more conspicuous, and we can discern the

lovely tracts of wisdom and goodness. And though, in others, it be

miserably sullied and defaced, yet it is not altogether erased. Some

lineaments still remain: all men are endowed with rational and immortal

souls, with understandings and wills capable of the most excellent

things. And if they be at present disordered and put out of tune by

wickedness and folly, this may indeed move our compassion, but ought

not to extinguish our love. When we see a person of a rugged humour and

perverse disposition, full of malice and dissimulation, very foolish,

and very proud, it is hard to fall in love with an object that presents

itself unto us, under an idea so little grateful and lovely. But when

we consider these evil qualities as the diseases of a soul, which in

itself is capable of all that wisdom and goodness, wherewith the best

of saints have ever been adorned, this will turn our aversion into pity,

and make us behold him with such resentments, as we have when we look

on a beautiful body that is mangled with wounds, or disfigured by some

loathsome disease. And however we hate the vices we shall not cease to

love the man.

_Prayer another instrument of religion;

the advantages of mental prayer._

24. There remains yet another help; and that is, fervent prayer.

Holiness is the gift of God; indeed the greatest gift he doth bestow,

or we are capable to receive, and he hath promised his Holy Spirit to

those that ask it of him. In prayer we make the nearest approaches to

God, and lie open to the influences of heaven: then it is that the sun

of righteousness doth visit us with his directest rays, and dissipateth

our darkness, and imprinteth his image on our souls. I cannot now

insist on the advantages of this exercise, or the dispositions

wherewith it ought to be performed; I shall only tell you, that as

there is one sort of prayer, wherein we make use of the voice, which is

necessary in public; and may sometimes have its advantage in private;

and another wherein, though we utter no sound, yet we conceive the

expressions, and form the words in our mind; so there is a third kind

of prayer, wherein the soul takes a higher flight, and having collected

all its forces, by long and serious meditation, it darteth itself (if

I may so speak) towards God, in sighs and groans, and thoughts too big

for expression.

This mental prayer is one of the most powerful instruments of the

divine life; and it may be the apostle hath a peculiar respect unto

it, when he saith, that _the Spirit helpeth our infirmities, making

intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered_.

_The use of the holy sacrament._

25. I shall recommend but one more help; and that is, the conscientious

use of that holy sacrament, which is peculiarly appointed to nourish

and increase the spiritual life, when once it is begotten in the soul.

All the instruments of religion meet together in this ordinance; and

while we address ourselves to it, we are put to practise all the rules

which were mentioned before. Then it is that we make the severest

survey of our actions, and lay the strictest obligations on ourselves:

then are our minds raised to the highest contempt of the world, and

every grace doth exercise itself with the greatest activity and vigour.

All the subjects of contemplation there present themselves unto us

with the greatest advantage; and then, if ever, doth the soul make its

most powerful sallies towards heaven, and assault it with a holy and

acceptable force. And certainly the neglect, or careless performance of

this duty, is one of the chief causes that be-dwarfs our religion, and

make us continue of so low a size.

A PRAYER.

_AND now, O most gracious God, Father and fountain of mercy, who

hast blessed us with the knowledge of our happiness, and the way that

leadeth unto it, excite in our souls such ardent desires after the one

as may put us forth to the diligent prosecution of the other. Let us

neither presume on our own strength, nor distrust thy assistance; but

while we are doing our utmost endeavours, still depend on thee for

success. Open our eyes, O God, and teach us out of thy law. Bless us

with an exact and tender sense of our duty, and a knowledge to discern

perverse things. O that our ways were directed to keep thy statutes!

Then shall we not be ashamed when we have a respect unto all thy

commandments. Possess our hearts with a generous and holy disdain of

all those poor enjoyments which this world holdeth out to allure us,

that they may never be able to inveigle our affections, or betray us

to any sin. Turn away our eyes from beholding vanity, and quicken thou

us in thy law. Fill our souls with such a deep sense of those great

truths which thou hast revealed in the gospel, as may influence and

regulate our whole conversation: so that the life which we henceforth

live in the flesh, we may live through faith in the Son of God. O that

the infinite perfections of thy blessed nature, and the astonishing

expressions of thy goodness may overpower our hearts; that they may

be constantly rising towards thee in flames of devout affection,

and enlarging themselves in cordial love towards all the world for

thy sake; and that we may cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of

flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in thy fear, without which we

can never hope to behold and enjoy thee. Finally, O God, grant that

the consideration of what thou art, and what we ourselves are, may

both humble and lay us low before thee, and also stir up in us the

strongest and most ardent aspirations towards thee. We desire to give

up ourselves to the conduct of thy Holy Spirit: lead us in thy truth,

and teach us, for thou art the God of our salvation. Guide us with

thy counsel, and afterwards receive us unto glory; for the merits and

intercession of thy blessed Son, our Saviour._ Amen.

The End of the EIGHTH VOLUME.

ERRATA, Volume VIII.

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