CHAP. VIII.An exhortation to Christian perfection.I.WHOEVER hath read the foregoing chapters with attention, is, I hope, sufficiently instructed in the knowledge of Christian perfection. He hath seen that it requireth us todevoteourselveswhollyunto God; to make the ends and designs of religion, the ends and designs of all our actions; that it calleth us to beborn again ofGod; to live by the light of his Holy Spirit; torenounce the world, and allworldly tempers; to practise a constantuniversal self-denial; to make daily war with the corruption of our nature; to shew the power ofdivine grace, by holiness of conversation; to avoid all pleasures and cares whichgrieve the Holy Spirit, and separate him from us; to live in adaily, constant stateof prayer and devotion; and, as the crown of all, to imitate thelife and Spiritof the Holy Jesus.II.*It now only remains that I exhort the reader to labour after this perfection. Was I to exhort any one to the study ofpoetryoreloquence, to labour to berichandgreat, or to spend his time inmathematics, or other learning, I could only produce such reasons as are fit to deludethe vanity of men, who are ready to be taken with any appearance of excellence. For if the same person was to ask me, what it signifies to be apoetoreloquent, what advantage it would be to him, to be a greatmathematician, or a greatstatesman, I must be forced to answer, that these things would signify just as much to him, as they now signify to those poets, orators, mathematicians, and statesmen, whose bodies have been a long while lost among common dust. For if a man will be so thoughtful as to put the question to every human enjoyment, and ask what real good it would bring along with it, he would soon find, that every success in the things of this life, leaves us just in the same state of want and emptiness in which it found us. If a man asks why he should labour to be the firstmathematician,orator, orstatesman, the answer is easily given, because of thefameandhonourof such a distinction; but if he was to ask again, why he should thirst after fame and honour, or what good they would do him, he must stay long enough for an answer. For when we are at thetopof all human attainments, we are still at thebottomof all human misery, and have made no farther advancement towards true happiness, than those whom we see in the want of all these excellencies. Whether a man die before he has writpoems, compiledhistories, orraised anestate, signifies no more than whether he died an hundred or a thousand years ago.III.On the contrary, when any one is exhorted to labour after Christian perfection, if he then asks what good it will do him, the answer is ready, that it would do him a good which eternity only can measure; that it will deliver him from a state of vanity and misery: that it will raise him from the poor enjoyments of an animal life; that it will give him a glorious body, carry him, in spite of death and the grave, to live with God, be glorious among angels and heavenly beings, and be full of an infinite happiness to all eternity. If therefore we could but make men so reasonable, as to make the shortest enquiry into the nature of things, we should have no occasion to exhort them to strive after Christian perfection.Two questionswe see put an end to all the vain projects of human life; they are all so empty and useless to our happiness, that they cannot stand the trial of asecondquestion. And, on the other hand, ’tis but asking, whether Christian perfection tends: and one single thought upon the eternal happiness it leads to, is sufficient to make peoplesaints.IV.This shews us how inexcusable all Christians are, who are devoted to the things of this life. It is not because they wantfine parts, or are unable to makedeep reflections; but it is becausethey reject the first principles ofcommon sense; they won’t so much as ask what those things are which they are labouring after. Did they but use thus much reason, we need not desire them to be wiser, in order to seek only eternal happiness. As a shadow at the first trial of the hand appears to have no substance; so all human enjoyments sink away into nothing at the first approach of aseriousthought. We must not therefore complain of the deceitful appearances of worldly enjoyments, because the lowest degree of reason, if listened to, is sufficient to discover the cheat. If you will, you mayblindlydo what the rest of the world are doing; you may follow thecry, and run yourself out ofbreathfor you know not what: but if you will but shew so much sense, as to ask why you should take such a chace, you will need no deeper a reflection than this to make you leave the broad way; and let the wise and learned, the rich and great, be mad by themselves. Thus much common sense will turn your eyes towards God, will separate you from all the appearances of worldly felicity, and fill you with one only ambition after eternal happiness.V.Supposestrict sobrietywas the sole end of man, the necessary condition of happiness, what would you think of those people, who, knowing and believing this to be true, should yet spend their time in getting quantities of all sorts of thestrongest liquors? What would you think if you saw them constantly enlarging theircellars, filling every room withdrams, and contending who should have the largest quantities of the strongest liquors? Now this is the folly and madness of Christians; they are as wise and reasonable, as they are who are always providing strong liquors, in order to bestrictly sober. For all the enjoyments of human life, which Christians so aspire after, whether ofriches,greatness,honours, orpleasures, are as much the dangers and temptations of a Christian, as strong and pleasant liquors are the temptations of a man that is to drink only water. Now if you was to ask such a man, why he is continually increasing his stock of liquors, when he is to abstain from them all, and only to drink water, he can give you as good a reason, as those Christians, who spare no pains to acquire riches, greatness, and pleasures, at the same time that their salvation depends upon their renouncing them all, upon their heavenly-mindedness, humility, and constant self-denial.VI.But it may be you are not devoted to these things; you have a greater soul than to be taken withriches,equipage, or thepageantryof state; you are deeply engaged inlearningandsciences.You are squaring thecircle, or settling the distances of thestars, or busy in the study ofexotic plants.You are comparing the ancient languages, have made deep discoveries in the change ofletters, and perhaps know how to write aninscriptionin as obscure characters as if you had lived above two thousand years ago: or, perhaps you are meditating upon theHeathen theology, collecting the history of theirGodsandGoddesses; or, you are scanning some ancientGreekorRomanpoet, and making an exact collection of theirscatteredremains,scrapsof sentences, andbrokenwords.You are not exposing your life in the field like a madAlexanderorCæsar; but you are fighting over all their battles in yourstudy; you are collecting the names of theirgenerals, the number of their troops, the manner of their arms, and can give the world a more exact account of the times, places, and circumstances of their battles, than has yet been seen.VII.You will perhaps ask, whether these are not very commendable enquiries? An excellent use of our time and parts? Whether people may not be very reasonably exhorted to these kind of studies? It may be answered, that all enquiries (however learned they may be reckoned) which do not improve the mind in some useful knowledge, that do not make us wise inreligious wisdom, are to be reckoned amongst ourgreatest vanities and follies. All speculations that will not stand this trial, are to be looked upon as the wanderings and impertinencies of adisordered understanding.It is strange want of thought to imagine, that an enquiry is ever the better, because it is taken up inGreekandLatin. Why is it not as wise and reasonable for ascholarto dwell in thekitchenand converse withcooks, as to go into his study, to meditate upon theRomanart ofcookery, and learn their variety ofsauces?*A gravedoctorin divinity would perhaps think his time very ill employed, that he was acting below his character, if he was to be anamanuensisto somemodern poet. Why then does he think it suitable with the weight of his calling, to have been adrudgeto someancient poet, counting his syllables for several years, only to help the world to read what someirreligious,wanton, orepicureanpoet has wrote?It is certainly a much more reasonable employment to be makingcloaths, than to spend one’s time in reading or writing volumes upon theGrecianorRomangarments.VIII.If you can shew me a learning that makes man truly sensible of his duty, that fills the mind withtrue light, that reforms the heart, that disposes it right towards God, that makes us morereasonablein all our actions; that inspires us withfortitude,humility,devotion, and contemptof theworld: that gives us right notions of thegreatnessof religion, thesanctityof morality, thelittlenessof every thing but God, thevanityof our passions, and the misery and corruption of our nature, I will own myself an advocate for such learning. But to think that time is well employed, because it is spent in such speculations as the vulgar cannot reach, or because they are fetched from antiquity, or found inGreekorLatin, is a folly that may be called as great as any in human life.They who think that these enquiries are consistent with a heartentirely devotedto God, have not enough considered human nature; they would do well to consult our Saviour’s rebuke ofMartha. She did not seem to have wandered far from her proper business; she was not busy in the history ofhouse-wifery, or enquiring into theoriginal of the distaff; she was only taken up with present affairs, andcumbered about much serving: but our blessed Saviour said unto her,Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things. But one thing is needful.Now ifscholarsanddivinescan shew, that they only apply to such studies as are serviceable to theone thing needful; if they are busy in a philosophy and learning that have a necessary connection with the devotion of the heart to God, such learning becomes the followers of Christ; but, if they trifle inGreekandLatin, and only assist other people to follow them in thesame impertinence, such learning may be reckoned amongst the corruptions of the age. For all the arguments againstpride,covetousness, andvanity, are as good arguments againstsuch learning; it being the same irreligion to be devoted to any falselearning, as to be devoted to any otherfalse good.A satisfaction in any vain ornaments of the body, whether ofcloathsorpaint, is no greater a mistake, than a satisfaction in thevain accomplishmentsof the mind.IX.A man that is eager and laborious in the search and study of that which does himno good, is the same poor, little soul, as themiserwho is happy in hisbagsthat are laid by in dust. A ridiculous application of ourmoney,time, andunderstanding, is the same fault, whether it be found amongst the finery offops, the hoards ofmisers, or the trinkets ofvirtuoso’s. It is the same false turn of mind, the same mistake of the use of things, the same ignorance of the state of man, and the same offence against religion.*When we see a man brooding overbagsof wealth, and labouring to dierich, we do not only accuse him of a poor littleness of mind; but we charge him with great guilt; we do not allow such a one to be in a state of religion. Let us therefore suppose that this covetous man was on a sudden changed into another temper; that he was grownpoliteandcurious; that he was fondand eager after the most useless things, if they were butancientandscarce; let us suppose that he is now as greedy oforiginal paintings, as he was before ofmoney; that he will give more for adog’s head, or asnuffof a candle done by a goodhand, than he ever gave in charity all his life; is he a wiser man, or a better Christian than he was before? Has he more overcome the world, or is he more devoted to God, than when his soul was locked up with his money? Alas! his heart is in the same false satisfaction; he is in the same state of ignorance, is as far from the true good, as much separated from God, as he whose soul is cleaving to the dust; he lives in the same vanity, and must die in the same misery, as he that lives and dies infopperyor covetousness.X.Here therefore I place my argument forChristian perfection. I exhort thee to labour after it, because there is nothing else for thee to labour after; there is nothing else that the reason of man can exhort thee to. The whole world has nothing to offer thee in its stead; chuse what other way thou wilt, thou hast chosen nothing but vanity and misery; for all the different ways of the world are only different ways of deluding thyself: this only excells that as one vanity can excel another. If thou wilt make thyself more happy than those who pursue their own destruction, if thou wilt shew thyself wiser thanfops,more reasonable thansordid misers, thou must pursue that happiness, and study that wisdom which leads to God; for every other pursuit, every other way of life, howeverpoliteorplausiblein the opinion of the world, has a folly and stupidity in it that is equal to the folly and stupidity offopsandmisers.For awhile shut thine eyes, and think of thesilliest creaturein human life; imagine to thyself something that thou thinkest the mostpoorandvainin the way of the world. Now thou art thyself that poor and vain creature, unless thou art devoted to God, and labouring after Christian perfection; unless this be thy difference from the world, thou canst not think of any creature more silly than thyself. For it is not anypost, or condition, or figure in life, that makes one man wiser or better than another; if thou art a proudscholar, a worldlypriest, an indevoutphilosopher, a craftypolitician, an ambitiousstatesman, thy imagination cannot invent a way of life that has more of vanity or folly than thine own.XI.Every one has wisdom enough to see what variety of fools and madmen there are in the world.Now perhaps we cannot do better, than to find out the true reason of the folly and madness of any sort of life. Ask thyself therefore wherein consists the folly of any sort of life, which is most condemned in thy judgment.*Is a drunkenfox-hunterleading a foolish life? Wherein consists the folly of it? Is it because he is not getting money upon theexchange? Or because he is not wrangling at thebar? Or not waiting atcourt? No; the folly of it consists in this, that he is not living like areasonable creature; that he is not acting like a being that has a salvation to work out withfear and trembling; that he is throwing away his time amongstdogs, and noise, and intemperance, which he should devote to watching and prayer, and the improvement of his soul in all holy tempers. Now, if this is the folly (as it most certainly is) of an intemperatefox-hunter, it shews us an equal folly in every other way of life, where the same great ends of living are neglected. Tho’ we are shining at thebar, making a figure atcourt, great at theexchange, or famous in theschoolsofphilosophy, we are yet the same despicable creatures as the intemperatefox-hunter, if these things keep us as far from holiness and heavenly affections. There is nothing greater in any way of life thanfox-hunting: it is all the same folly, unless religion be the beginning and ending, the rule and measure of it all. For it is asnobleawisdom, and shews asgreatasoul, to die less holy and heavenly for the sake ofhuntingandnoise, as for the sake of any thing that the world can give us.XII.Another motive to induce you to aspire afterChristian perfection, may be taken from the double advantage of it in this life, and that which is to come.The apostle thus exhorts theCorinthians,Wherefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; for as much as ye know that your labour will not be in vain in the Lord¹.¹1 Cor.xv.58.This is an exhortation founded upon solid reason: for what can be so reasonable, as to be always abounding inthat workwhich will never bein vain? Whilst we are pleased with ourselves, or pleased with the world, we are pleased with vanity: and our most prosperous labours of this kind are butvanity of vanities: but whilst we are labouring after Christian perfection, we are labouring for eternity, and building to ourselves higher stations in the joys of heaven.As one star differeth from another star in glory, so also is the resurrection of the dead.We shall surely rise to different degrees of glory, of joy and happiness in God, according to our different advancements in holiness, and good works.No degrees of mortification and self-denial, no private prayers, no secret mournings, no instances of charity, no labour of love, will ever be forgotten, but all treasured up to our everlasting comfort. For though the rewards of the other life are free gifts of God; yet since hehas assured us, that every man shall be rewarded according to his works, it is certain that our rewards will be as different as our works have been.XIII.Now stand still awhile, and ask yourself, whether you really believe this to be true, that the more perfect we are here, the more happy we shall be hereafter? If you do not believe this, you know nothing of God and religion. And if you do believe it, is it possible to beawakeand not aspiring after Christian perfection? What can you think of, what can the world shew you, that can make you any amends for the loss ofany degreeof virtue? Can any way of life make it reasonable for you to dieless perfectthan you might have done? But if you would now devote yourself to God, perhaps you must part with some friends; you must displease some relations, you must refrain from some pleasures, you must alter your life; nay, perhaps you must do more than this, you must expose yourself to the hatred of your friends, to the jest and ridicule ofwits, and to the scorn and derision of worldly men. But had you not better do and suffer all this, than dieless perfect, less prepared for eternal glory? And indeed the suffering all this is suffering nothing. For why should it signify any thing to you, whatfoolsandmadmenthink of you? And surely it can be no wrong or rash judgment to think those both foolsand mad, who condemn what God approves, and like that which God condemns: but if you think this too much to be done, to obtain eternal glory, think on the other hand, what can be gained instead of it.*Fancy yourself living in all the ease and pleasure that the world can give you, esteemed by your friends, undisturbed by your enemies, and gratifying all yournatural tempers. If you couldstand stillin such a state, you might say that you had gotsomething; but alas! every day that isaddedto such a life, is the same thing as a day taken from it, and shews you that so much happiness is gone from you. For be as happy as you will, you must see it all sinking away from you; you must feel yourselfdecline; you must see that your timeshortens apace; you must hear ofsudden deaths; you must fearsickness; you must both dread and desireold age; you must fall into the hands of death; you must either die in the bitter sorrows of a deep repentance, or in sad gloomy despair, wishing formountains to fall upon you, and rocks to cover you. And is this a happiness to be chosen? Is this all that you can gain by neglecting God, by following your own desires, and not labouring after Christian perfection? Is it worth your while to separate yourself from God, to lose your share in the realms of light, to bethus happy; or, I may better say, to be thus miserable even in this life? You may be so blind and foolish, as notto think of these things; but it is impossible to think of them, without labouring afterChristian perfection.XIV.It may be, you are too young, too happy, or too busy to be affected with these reflections; but let me tell you, thatallwill be over before you are aware; yourdaywill be spent, and leave you to such anight, as that which surprized thefoolish virgins.And at midnight there was a cry made, behold the bridegroom cometh, go ye out and meethim¹.¹Matt.xxv.6.*Thelast hourwill soon be with you, when you will have nothing to look for, but yourrewardin another life; when you will stand with nothing buteternitybefore you, and must begin to be something that will be your state for ever. I can no morereachheaven with my hands, than I can describe the sentiments that you then will have; you will then feel motions of heart that you never felt before; all your thoughts and reflections will pierce your soul in a manner, that you never before experienced; and you will feel the immortality of your nature, by the depth and piercing vigour of your thoughts. You will then know what it is to die; you will then know that you never knew it before, that you never thought worthily of it; but that dying thoughts are asnewandamazingas that state which follows them.Let me therefore exhort you to come prepared to this time of trial; to look out for comfort, whilst the day is before you; to treasure up such afundof good and pious works, as may make you able to bear that state, which cannot be borne without them. Could I any way make you apprehend, how dying men feel the want of a pious life; how they lament time lost, health and strength squandered away in folly; how they look at eternity, and what they think of the rewards of another life, you would soon find yourself one of those, who desire to live in the highest state of piety and perfection, that by this means you may grow old in peace, and die in full hope of eternal glory.XV.Consider again, that besides the rewards of the other life, the devoting yourself wholly to God has a great reward even in this life, as it makes religiondoublypleasant to you. Whilst you are divided betwixt God and the world, you have neither the pleasures of religion, nor the pleasures of the world; but are always in the uneasiness of a divided state of heart. You have only so much religion as serves to disquiet you; to check your enjoyments; to shew you ahand-writing upon the wall; to interrupt your pleasures; to reproach you with your follies; and to appear as adeath’s headat all your feasts; but not religion enough to give you a taste and feeling of its proper pleasures and satisfactions.You dare not wholly neglect religion; but then, you take no more of it than is just sufficient to keep you from being a terror to yourself; and you are as loath to bevery good, as you are fearful to bevery bad. So that you are just as happy as theslave, that dares not run away from his master, and yet always serves him against his will. Instead of having a religion that is your comfort in all troubles, your religion is itself atrouble, under which you want to be comforted; and those days and times hang heaviest on your hands, which leave you only to the offices and duties of religion.Sundaywould be very dull and tiresome, but that it is but one day inseven, and is made a day ofdressingandvisiting, as well as of divine service. You don’t care to keep away from the public worship, but are always glad when it is over. This is the state of halfpiety; thus they live who add religion to a worldly life; all their religion is mereyokeandburden, and is only made tolerable by having but little of their time.XVI.Urbanusgoes to church, but he hardly knows whether he goes out of a sense of duty, or to meet his friends. He wonders at those people who areprophane, and what pleasure they can find in irreligion; but then, he is in as great a wonder at those who would make every day a day of divine worship. He feels no more of the pleasures of piety, than of the pleasures ofprophaneness. As religion has every thing from him but hisheart, so he has every thing from religion but itscomforts.Urbanuslikes religion, because it seems aneasyway of pleasing God; adecentthing, that takes up but little of our time, and is a propermixturein life: but if he was reduced to takecomfortin it, he would be as much at a loss, as those who have lived without God in the world. WhenUrbanusthinks of joy, and pleasure, and happiness, he does not think at all of religion. He has gone through a hundred misfortunes, fallen into variety of hardships; but never thought of making religion hiscomfortin any of them. He makes himself quiet and happy in another manner. He is content with his Christianity, not because he ispious, but because he is notprophane. He continues in the same course of religion, not because of any real good he ever found in it, but because it does him no hurt.*To such poor purposes as these do numbers of people profess Christianity. Let me therefore exhort you to asolid piety, to devote yourself wholly unto God; that entering deep into religion, you may enter deep into its comforts; that serving God with all your heart, you may have the peace and pleasure of a heart that is at unity with itself. When your conscience once bears you witness, that you arestedfast,immoveable,and always abounding in the work of the Lord, you will find that your reward is alreadybegun, and that you could not be less devout, less holy, less charitable, or less humble, without lessening the most substantial pleasure that ever you felt in your life. So that to be content with any lower attainments in piety, is to rob ourselves of a present happiness, which nothing else can give us.XVII.You would perhaps devote yourself to perfection, but for this or thatlittle difficultythat lies in your way; you are not in so convenient a state for the full practice of piety as you could wish: but consider that this is nonsense, because perfection consists in conquering difficulties. You could not be perfect as the present state of trial requires, had you not those difficulties and inconveniences to struggle with. These things therefore which you would have removed, are laid in your way, that you may make them so many steps to glory.As you could not exercise your charity, unless you met with objects; so neither could you shew, that you hadovercomethe world, unless you had many worldly engagements to overcome. If all yourfriendsandacquaintancewere devout, humble, heavenly-minded, and wholly intent upon the one end of life, it would be less perfection in you to be like them: But if you arehumbleamongst those that delight in pride,heavenly-mindedamongst the worldly,soberamongst the intemperate,devoutamongst the irreligious,and labouring afterperfectionamongst those that despise and ridicule your labours, then are you truly devoted unto God. Consider therefore, that you can have no difficulty, but such as the world lays in your way; and that perfection is never to be had, but by parting with the world. To stay therefore to be perfect till it suits with your condition in the world, is like staying to be charitable till there were no objects of charity. It is as if a man should intend to be courageous some time or other, when there is nothing left to try his courage.XVIII.Again, you perhaps turn your eyes upon the world; you see all orders of people full of other cares and pleasures; you see the generality ofclergyandlaity, learned and unlearned, your friends and acquaintance, mostly living according to the spirit that reigneth in the world; you are therefore content with such apietyas you think contents greatscholarsandfamousmen: and it may be you cannot think that God will reject such numbers of Christians. Now all this is amusing yourself with nothing; it is only losing yourself in vain imaginations; it is making that arulewhich is no rule, and cheating yourself into a false satisfaction. As you are not censoriously to damn other people; so neither are you to think your own salvation secure, because you are like the generality of the world.*Thefoolish virginsthat had provided no oil in their lamps, and so were shut out of the marriage-feast, were only thus farfoolish, that they trusted to theassistanceof those that werewise: but you are more foolish than they; for you trust to be saved by the folly of others; you imagine yourself safe in thenegligence,vanity, andirregularityof the world; you take confidence in thebroad way, because it isbroad; you are content with yourself, because you seem to be along withthe many, though God himself has told you, thatnarrowis the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.XIX.One word more and I have done. Think with yourself, what a happiness it is, that you have it in your power to secure a share in the glories of heaven, and make yourself one of those blessed beings that are to live with God for ever. Reflect upon the glories of bright angels, that shine about the throne of heaven. Think upon that fulness of joy, which is the state of Christ at the right hand of God; and remember that it is this same state of glory and joy that lies open for you. You are less, it may be, in worldly distinctions than many others; but as to your relation to God, you have no superior upon earth. Let your condition be what it will, let your life be ever so mean, you may make the end of it the beginning of eternal glory. Be often therefore in these reflections,that they may fill you with a wise ambition of all that glory which God in Christ hath called you to. For it is impossible to understand and feel any thing of this, without feeling your heart affected with strong desires after it. There are many things in human life which it would be in vain for you to aspire after; but the happiness of the next, the sum of all happiness, is secure and safe to you against all accidents. Here no chances or misfortunes can prevent your success; neither can the treachery of friends, nor the malice of enemies disappoint you; it is only your own false heart that can rob you of this happiness. Be but your own true friend, and then you have nothing to fear from your enemies. Do but you sincerely labour in the Lord, and then neither heighth nor depth, neither life nor death, neither men or devils, can make your labour vain.
An exhortation to Christian perfection.
I.WHOEVER hath read the foregoing chapters with attention, is, I hope, sufficiently instructed in the knowledge of Christian perfection. He hath seen that it requireth us todevoteourselveswhollyunto God; to make the ends and designs of religion, the ends and designs of all our actions; that it calleth us to beborn again ofGod; to live by the light of his Holy Spirit; torenounce the world, and allworldly tempers; to practise a constantuniversal self-denial; to make daily war with the corruption of our nature; to shew the power ofdivine grace, by holiness of conversation; to avoid all pleasures and cares whichgrieve the Holy Spirit, and separate him from us; to live in adaily, constant stateof prayer and devotion; and, as the crown of all, to imitate thelife and Spiritof the Holy Jesus.
II.*It now only remains that I exhort the reader to labour after this perfection. Was I to exhort any one to the study ofpoetryoreloquence, to labour to berichandgreat, or to spend his time inmathematics, or other learning, I could only produce such reasons as are fit to deludethe vanity of men, who are ready to be taken with any appearance of excellence. For if the same person was to ask me, what it signifies to be apoetoreloquent, what advantage it would be to him, to be a greatmathematician, or a greatstatesman, I must be forced to answer, that these things would signify just as much to him, as they now signify to those poets, orators, mathematicians, and statesmen, whose bodies have been a long while lost among common dust. For if a man will be so thoughtful as to put the question to every human enjoyment, and ask what real good it would bring along with it, he would soon find, that every success in the things of this life, leaves us just in the same state of want and emptiness in which it found us. If a man asks why he should labour to be the firstmathematician,orator, orstatesman, the answer is easily given, because of thefameandhonourof such a distinction; but if he was to ask again, why he should thirst after fame and honour, or what good they would do him, he must stay long enough for an answer. For when we are at thetopof all human attainments, we are still at thebottomof all human misery, and have made no farther advancement towards true happiness, than those whom we see in the want of all these excellencies. Whether a man die before he has writpoems, compiledhistories, orraised anestate, signifies no more than whether he died an hundred or a thousand years ago.
III.On the contrary, when any one is exhorted to labour after Christian perfection, if he then asks what good it will do him, the answer is ready, that it would do him a good which eternity only can measure; that it will deliver him from a state of vanity and misery: that it will raise him from the poor enjoyments of an animal life; that it will give him a glorious body, carry him, in spite of death and the grave, to live with God, be glorious among angels and heavenly beings, and be full of an infinite happiness to all eternity. If therefore we could but make men so reasonable, as to make the shortest enquiry into the nature of things, we should have no occasion to exhort them to strive after Christian perfection.Two questionswe see put an end to all the vain projects of human life; they are all so empty and useless to our happiness, that they cannot stand the trial of asecondquestion. And, on the other hand, ’tis but asking, whether Christian perfection tends: and one single thought upon the eternal happiness it leads to, is sufficient to make peoplesaints.
IV.This shews us how inexcusable all Christians are, who are devoted to the things of this life. It is not because they wantfine parts, or are unable to makedeep reflections; but it is becausethey reject the first principles ofcommon sense; they won’t so much as ask what those things are which they are labouring after. Did they but use thus much reason, we need not desire them to be wiser, in order to seek only eternal happiness. As a shadow at the first trial of the hand appears to have no substance; so all human enjoyments sink away into nothing at the first approach of aseriousthought. We must not therefore complain of the deceitful appearances of worldly enjoyments, because the lowest degree of reason, if listened to, is sufficient to discover the cheat. If you will, you mayblindlydo what the rest of the world are doing; you may follow thecry, and run yourself out ofbreathfor you know not what: but if you will but shew so much sense, as to ask why you should take such a chace, you will need no deeper a reflection than this to make you leave the broad way; and let the wise and learned, the rich and great, be mad by themselves. Thus much common sense will turn your eyes towards God, will separate you from all the appearances of worldly felicity, and fill you with one only ambition after eternal happiness.
V.Supposestrict sobrietywas the sole end of man, the necessary condition of happiness, what would you think of those people, who, knowing and believing this to be true, should yet spend their time in getting quantities of all sorts of thestrongest liquors? What would you think if you saw them constantly enlarging theircellars, filling every room withdrams, and contending who should have the largest quantities of the strongest liquors? Now this is the folly and madness of Christians; they are as wise and reasonable, as they are who are always providing strong liquors, in order to bestrictly sober. For all the enjoyments of human life, which Christians so aspire after, whether ofriches,greatness,honours, orpleasures, are as much the dangers and temptations of a Christian, as strong and pleasant liquors are the temptations of a man that is to drink only water. Now if you was to ask such a man, why he is continually increasing his stock of liquors, when he is to abstain from them all, and only to drink water, he can give you as good a reason, as those Christians, who spare no pains to acquire riches, greatness, and pleasures, at the same time that their salvation depends upon their renouncing them all, upon their heavenly-mindedness, humility, and constant self-denial.
VI.But it may be you are not devoted to these things; you have a greater soul than to be taken withriches,equipage, or thepageantryof state; you are deeply engaged inlearningandsciences.
You are squaring thecircle, or settling the distances of thestars, or busy in the study ofexotic plants.
You are comparing the ancient languages, have made deep discoveries in the change ofletters, and perhaps know how to write aninscriptionin as obscure characters as if you had lived above two thousand years ago: or, perhaps you are meditating upon theHeathen theology, collecting the history of theirGodsandGoddesses; or, you are scanning some ancientGreekorRomanpoet, and making an exact collection of theirscatteredremains,scrapsof sentences, andbrokenwords.
You are not exposing your life in the field like a madAlexanderorCæsar; but you are fighting over all their battles in yourstudy; you are collecting the names of theirgenerals, the number of their troops, the manner of their arms, and can give the world a more exact account of the times, places, and circumstances of their battles, than has yet been seen.
VII.You will perhaps ask, whether these are not very commendable enquiries? An excellent use of our time and parts? Whether people may not be very reasonably exhorted to these kind of studies? It may be answered, that all enquiries (however learned they may be reckoned) which do not improve the mind in some useful knowledge, that do not make us wise inreligious wisdom, are to be reckoned amongst ourgreatest vanities and follies. All speculations that will not stand this trial, are to be looked upon as the wanderings and impertinencies of adisordered understanding.
It is strange want of thought to imagine, that an enquiry is ever the better, because it is taken up inGreekandLatin. Why is it not as wise and reasonable for ascholarto dwell in thekitchenand converse withcooks, as to go into his study, to meditate upon theRomanart ofcookery, and learn their variety ofsauces?
*A gravedoctorin divinity would perhaps think his time very ill employed, that he was acting below his character, if he was to be anamanuensisto somemodern poet. Why then does he think it suitable with the weight of his calling, to have been adrudgeto someancient poet, counting his syllables for several years, only to help the world to read what someirreligious,wanton, orepicureanpoet has wrote?
It is certainly a much more reasonable employment to be makingcloaths, than to spend one’s time in reading or writing volumes upon theGrecianorRomangarments.
VIII.If you can shew me a learning that makes man truly sensible of his duty, that fills the mind withtrue light, that reforms the heart, that disposes it right towards God, that makes us morereasonablein all our actions; that inspires us withfortitude,humility,devotion, and contemptof theworld: that gives us right notions of thegreatnessof religion, thesanctityof morality, thelittlenessof every thing but God, thevanityof our passions, and the misery and corruption of our nature, I will own myself an advocate for such learning. But to think that time is well employed, because it is spent in such speculations as the vulgar cannot reach, or because they are fetched from antiquity, or found inGreekorLatin, is a folly that may be called as great as any in human life.
They who think that these enquiries are consistent with a heartentirely devotedto God, have not enough considered human nature; they would do well to consult our Saviour’s rebuke ofMartha. She did not seem to have wandered far from her proper business; she was not busy in the history ofhouse-wifery, or enquiring into theoriginal of the distaff; she was only taken up with present affairs, andcumbered about much serving: but our blessed Saviour said unto her,Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things. But one thing is needful.
Now ifscholarsanddivinescan shew, that they only apply to such studies as are serviceable to theone thing needful; if they are busy in a philosophy and learning that have a necessary connection with the devotion of the heart to God, such learning becomes the followers of Christ; but, if they trifle inGreekandLatin, and only assist other people to follow them in thesame impertinence, such learning may be reckoned amongst the corruptions of the age. For all the arguments againstpride,covetousness, andvanity, are as good arguments againstsuch learning; it being the same irreligion to be devoted to any falselearning, as to be devoted to any otherfalse good.
A satisfaction in any vain ornaments of the body, whether ofcloathsorpaint, is no greater a mistake, than a satisfaction in thevain accomplishmentsof the mind.
IX.A man that is eager and laborious in the search and study of that which does himno good, is the same poor, little soul, as themiserwho is happy in hisbagsthat are laid by in dust. A ridiculous application of ourmoney,time, andunderstanding, is the same fault, whether it be found amongst the finery offops, the hoards ofmisers, or the trinkets ofvirtuoso’s. It is the same false turn of mind, the same mistake of the use of things, the same ignorance of the state of man, and the same offence against religion.
*When we see a man brooding overbagsof wealth, and labouring to dierich, we do not only accuse him of a poor littleness of mind; but we charge him with great guilt; we do not allow such a one to be in a state of religion. Let us therefore suppose that this covetous man was on a sudden changed into another temper; that he was grownpoliteandcurious; that he was fondand eager after the most useless things, if they were butancientandscarce; let us suppose that he is now as greedy oforiginal paintings, as he was before ofmoney; that he will give more for adog’s head, or asnuffof a candle done by a goodhand, than he ever gave in charity all his life; is he a wiser man, or a better Christian than he was before? Has he more overcome the world, or is he more devoted to God, than when his soul was locked up with his money? Alas! his heart is in the same false satisfaction; he is in the same state of ignorance, is as far from the true good, as much separated from God, as he whose soul is cleaving to the dust; he lives in the same vanity, and must die in the same misery, as he that lives and dies infopperyor covetousness.
X.Here therefore I place my argument forChristian perfection. I exhort thee to labour after it, because there is nothing else for thee to labour after; there is nothing else that the reason of man can exhort thee to. The whole world has nothing to offer thee in its stead; chuse what other way thou wilt, thou hast chosen nothing but vanity and misery; for all the different ways of the world are only different ways of deluding thyself: this only excells that as one vanity can excel another. If thou wilt make thyself more happy than those who pursue their own destruction, if thou wilt shew thyself wiser thanfops,more reasonable thansordid misers, thou must pursue that happiness, and study that wisdom which leads to God; for every other pursuit, every other way of life, howeverpoliteorplausiblein the opinion of the world, has a folly and stupidity in it that is equal to the folly and stupidity offopsandmisers.
For awhile shut thine eyes, and think of thesilliest creaturein human life; imagine to thyself something that thou thinkest the mostpoorandvainin the way of the world. Now thou art thyself that poor and vain creature, unless thou art devoted to God, and labouring after Christian perfection; unless this be thy difference from the world, thou canst not think of any creature more silly than thyself. For it is not anypost, or condition, or figure in life, that makes one man wiser or better than another; if thou art a proudscholar, a worldlypriest, an indevoutphilosopher, a craftypolitician, an ambitiousstatesman, thy imagination cannot invent a way of life that has more of vanity or folly than thine own.
XI.Every one has wisdom enough to see what variety of fools and madmen there are in the world.
Now perhaps we cannot do better, than to find out the true reason of the folly and madness of any sort of life. Ask thyself therefore wherein consists the folly of any sort of life, which is most condemned in thy judgment.
*Is a drunkenfox-hunterleading a foolish life? Wherein consists the folly of it? Is it because he is not getting money upon theexchange? Or because he is not wrangling at thebar? Or not waiting atcourt? No; the folly of it consists in this, that he is not living like areasonable creature; that he is not acting like a being that has a salvation to work out withfear and trembling; that he is throwing away his time amongstdogs, and noise, and intemperance, which he should devote to watching and prayer, and the improvement of his soul in all holy tempers. Now, if this is the folly (as it most certainly is) of an intemperatefox-hunter, it shews us an equal folly in every other way of life, where the same great ends of living are neglected. Tho’ we are shining at thebar, making a figure atcourt, great at theexchange, or famous in theschoolsofphilosophy, we are yet the same despicable creatures as the intemperatefox-hunter, if these things keep us as far from holiness and heavenly affections. There is nothing greater in any way of life thanfox-hunting: it is all the same folly, unless religion be the beginning and ending, the rule and measure of it all. For it is asnobleawisdom, and shews asgreatasoul, to die less holy and heavenly for the sake ofhuntingandnoise, as for the sake of any thing that the world can give us.
XII.Another motive to induce you to aspire afterChristian perfection, may be taken from the double advantage of it in this life, and that which is to come.
The apostle thus exhorts theCorinthians,Wherefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; for as much as ye know that your labour will not be in vain in the Lord¹.
¹1 Cor.xv.58.
This is an exhortation founded upon solid reason: for what can be so reasonable, as to be always abounding inthat workwhich will never bein vain? Whilst we are pleased with ourselves, or pleased with the world, we are pleased with vanity: and our most prosperous labours of this kind are butvanity of vanities: but whilst we are labouring after Christian perfection, we are labouring for eternity, and building to ourselves higher stations in the joys of heaven.As one star differeth from another star in glory, so also is the resurrection of the dead.We shall surely rise to different degrees of glory, of joy and happiness in God, according to our different advancements in holiness, and good works.
No degrees of mortification and self-denial, no private prayers, no secret mournings, no instances of charity, no labour of love, will ever be forgotten, but all treasured up to our everlasting comfort. For though the rewards of the other life are free gifts of God; yet since hehas assured us, that every man shall be rewarded according to his works, it is certain that our rewards will be as different as our works have been.
XIII.Now stand still awhile, and ask yourself, whether you really believe this to be true, that the more perfect we are here, the more happy we shall be hereafter? If you do not believe this, you know nothing of God and religion. And if you do believe it, is it possible to beawakeand not aspiring after Christian perfection? What can you think of, what can the world shew you, that can make you any amends for the loss ofany degreeof virtue? Can any way of life make it reasonable for you to dieless perfectthan you might have done? But if you would now devote yourself to God, perhaps you must part with some friends; you must displease some relations, you must refrain from some pleasures, you must alter your life; nay, perhaps you must do more than this, you must expose yourself to the hatred of your friends, to the jest and ridicule ofwits, and to the scorn and derision of worldly men. But had you not better do and suffer all this, than dieless perfect, less prepared for eternal glory? And indeed the suffering all this is suffering nothing. For why should it signify any thing to you, whatfoolsandmadmenthink of you? And surely it can be no wrong or rash judgment to think those both foolsand mad, who condemn what God approves, and like that which God condemns: but if you think this too much to be done, to obtain eternal glory, think on the other hand, what can be gained instead of it.
*Fancy yourself living in all the ease and pleasure that the world can give you, esteemed by your friends, undisturbed by your enemies, and gratifying all yournatural tempers. If you couldstand stillin such a state, you might say that you had gotsomething; but alas! every day that isaddedto such a life, is the same thing as a day taken from it, and shews you that so much happiness is gone from you. For be as happy as you will, you must see it all sinking away from you; you must feel yourselfdecline; you must see that your timeshortens apace; you must hear ofsudden deaths; you must fearsickness; you must both dread and desireold age; you must fall into the hands of death; you must either die in the bitter sorrows of a deep repentance, or in sad gloomy despair, wishing formountains to fall upon you, and rocks to cover you. And is this a happiness to be chosen? Is this all that you can gain by neglecting God, by following your own desires, and not labouring after Christian perfection? Is it worth your while to separate yourself from God, to lose your share in the realms of light, to bethus happy; or, I may better say, to be thus miserable even in this life? You may be so blind and foolish, as notto think of these things; but it is impossible to think of them, without labouring afterChristian perfection.
XIV.It may be, you are too young, too happy, or too busy to be affected with these reflections; but let me tell you, thatallwill be over before you are aware; yourdaywill be spent, and leave you to such anight, as that which surprized thefoolish virgins.And at midnight there was a cry made, behold the bridegroom cometh, go ye out and meethim¹.
¹Matt.xxv.6.
*Thelast hourwill soon be with you, when you will have nothing to look for, but yourrewardin another life; when you will stand with nothing buteternitybefore you, and must begin to be something that will be your state for ever. I can no morereachheaven with my hands, than I can describe the sentiments that you then will have; you will then feel motions of heart that you never felt before; all your thoughts and reflections will pierce your soul in a manner, that you never before experienced; and you will feel the immortality of your nature, by the depth and piercing vigour of your thoughts. You will then know what it is to die; you will then know that you never knew it before, that you never thought worthily of it; but that dying thoughts are asnewandamazingas that state which follows them.
Let me therefore exhort you to come prepared to this time of trial; to look out for comfort, whilst the day is before you; to treasure up such afundof good and pious works, as may make you able to bear that state, which cannot be borne without them. Could I any way make you apprehend, how dying men feel the want of a pious life; how they lament time lost, health and strength squandered away in folly; how they look at eternity, and what they think of the rewards of another life, you would soon find yourself one of those, who desire to live in the highest state of piety and perfection, that by this means you may grow old in peace, and die in full hope of eternal glory.
XV.Consider again, that besides the rewards of the other life, the devoting yourself wholly to God has a great reward even in this life, as it makes religiondoublypleasant to you. Whilst you are divided betwixt God and the world, you have neither the pleasures of religion, nor the pleasures of the world; but are always in the uneasiness of a divided state of heart. You have only so much religion as serves to disquiet you; to check your enjoyments; to shew you ahand-writing upon the wall; to interrupt your pleasures; to reproach you with your follies; and to appear as adeath’s headat all your feasts; but not religion enough to give you a taste and feeling of its proper pleasures and satisfactions.You dare not wholly neglect religion; but then, you take no more of it than is just sufficient to keep you from being a terror to yourself; and you are as loath to bevery good, as you are fearful to bevery bad. So that you are just as happy as theslave, that dares not run away from his master, and yet always serves him against his will. Instead of having a religion that is your comfort in all troubles, your religion is itself atrouble, under which you want to be comforted; and those days and times hang heaviest on your hands, which leave you only to the offices and duties of religion.Sundaywould be very dull and tiresome, but that it is but one day inseven, and is made a day ofdressingandvisiting, as well as of divine service. You don’t care to keep away from the public worship, but are always glad when it is over. This is the state of halfpiety; thus they live who add religion to a worldly life; all their religion is mereyokeandburden, and is only made tolerable by having but little of their time.
XVI.Urbanusgoes to church, but he hardly knows whether he goes out of a sense of duty, or to meet his friends. He wonders at those people who areprophane, and what pleasure they can find in irreligion; but then, he is in as great a wonder at those who would make every day a day of divine worship. He feels no more of the pleasures of piety, than of the pleasures ofprophaneness. As religion has every thing from him but hisheart, so he has every thing from religion but itscomforts.Urbanuslikes religion, because it seems aneasyway of pleasing God; adecentthing, that takes up but little of our time, and is a propermixturein life: but if he was reduced to takecomfortin it, he would be as much at a loss, as those who have lived without God in the world. WhenUrbanusthinks of joy, and pleasure, and happiness, he does not think at all of religion. He has gone through a hundred misfortunes, fallen into variety of hardships; but never thought of making religion hiscomfortin any of them. He makes himself quiet and happy in another manner. He is content with his Christianity, not because he ispious, but because he is notprophane. He continues in the same course of religion, not because of any real good he ever found in it, but because it does him no hurt.
*To such poor purposes as these do numbers of people profess Christianity. Let me therefore exhort you to asolid piety, to devote yourself wholly unto God; that entering deep into religion, you may enter deep into its comforts; that serving God with all your heart, you may have the peace and pleasure of a heart that is at unity with itself. When your conscience once bears you witness, that you arestedfast,immoveable,and always abounding in the work of the Lord, you will find that your reward is alreadybegun, and that you could not be less devout, less holy, less charitable, or less humble, without lessening the most substantial pleasure that ever you felt in your life. So that to be content with any lower attainments in piety, is to rob ourselves of a present happiness, which nothing else can give us.
XVII.You would perhaps devote yourself to perfection, but for this or thatlittle difficultythat lies in your way; you are not in so convenient a state for the full practice of piety as you could wish: but consider that this is nonsense, because perfection consists in conquering difficulties. You could not be perfect as the present state of trial requires, had you not those difficulties and inconveniences to struggle with. These things therefore which you would have removed, are laid in your way, that you may make them so many steps to glory.
As you could not exercise your charity, unless you met with objects; so neither could you shew, that you hadovercomethe world, unless you had many worldly engagements to overcome. If all yourfriendsandacquaintancewere devout, humble, heavenly-minded, and wholly intent upon the one end of life, it would be less perfection in you to be like them: But if you arehumbleamongst those that delight in pride,heavenly-mindedamongst the worldly,soberamongst the intemperate,devoutamongst the irreligious,and labouring afterperfectionamongst those that despise and ridicule your labours, then are you truly devoted unto God. Consider therefore, that you can have no difficulty, but such as the world lays in your way; and that perfection is never to be had, but by parting with the world. To stay therefore to be perfect till it suits with your condition in the world, is like staying to be charitable till there were no objects of charity. It is as if a man should intend to be courageous some time or other, when there is nothing left to try his courage.
XVIII.Again, you perhaps turn your eyes upon the world; you see all orders of people full of other cares and pleasures; you see the generality ofclergyandlaity, learned and unlearned, your friends and acquaintance, mostly living according to the spirit that reigneth in the world; you are therefore content with such apietyas you think contents greatscholarsandfamousmen: and it may be you cannot think that God will reject such numbers of Christians. Now all this is amusing yourself with nothing; it is only losing yourself in vain imaginations; it is making that arulewhich is no rule, and cheating yourself into a false satisfaction. As you are not censoriously to damn other people; so neither are you to think your own salvation secure, because you are like the generality of the world.
*Thefoolish virginsthat had provided no oil in their lamps, and so were shut out of the marriage-feast, were only thus farfoolish, that they trusted to theassistanceof those that werewise: but you are more foolish than they; for you trust to be saved by the folly of others; you imagine yourself safe in thenegligence,vanity, andirregularityof the world; you take confidence in thebroad way, because it isbroad; you are content with yourself, because you seem to be along withthe many, though God himself has told you, thatnarrowis the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.
XIX.One word more and I have done. Think with yourself, what a happiness it is, that you have it in your power to secure a share in the glories of heaven, and make yourself one of those blessed beings that are to live with God for ever. Reflect upon the glories of bright angels, that shine about the throne of heaven. Think upon that fulness of joy, which is the state of Christ at the right hand of God; and remember that it is this same state of glory and joy that lies open for you. You are less, it may be, in worldly distinctions than many others; but as to your relation to God, you have no superior upon earth. Let your condition be what it will, let your life be ever so mean, you may make the end of it the beginning of eternal glory. Be often therefore in these reflections,that they may fill you with a wise ambition of all that glory which God in Christ hath called you to. For it is impossible to understand and feel any thing of this, without feeling your heart affected with strong desires after it. There are many things in human life which it would be in vain for you to aspire after; but the happiness of the next, the sum of all happiness, is secure and safe to you against all accidents. Here no chances or misfortunes can prevent your success; neither can the treachery of friends, nor the malice of enemies disappoint you; it is only your own false heart that can rob you of this happiness. Be but your own true friend, and then you have nothing to fear from your enemies. Do but you sincerely labour in the Lord, and then neither heighth nor depth, neither life nor death, neither men or devils, can make your labour vain.