part in it.

He therefore that fiiith he wants a voice, or an ear, to fing a Plalm, miftakes the cafe; he wants that jpr'it that really rejoices in God ; the dulnefs is in his hearty and not in his ear:^ and when his heart feels a true joy in God, when it has a full relilh of what is ex- preffed in the Pfalms, he will find it very pleaftnt, to make the motions of his voice exprefs the motions of his heart.
Singing indeed, as it is improved into an art, as it fignifies the running of the voice thro* fuch or fuch a compals of notes, and keeping time with a ftudy'd variety of chan- ges, is not natural, nor the efFed of any na- tural ftate of the mind ; lb in this fenfe, it is not common to all people, any more than thole anttck and Invented motions which make fine dancings are common to all people.
But finging, as it fignifies a motion of the voice fuitable to the motions of the heart, and the changing of its tone according to the meaning of tJhe words which we utter, is as natural and common to all men, as it is to fpeak h'lgh when they threaten in anger, or to Ipeak low when they are dejeded and a^k for a ^ardon^
AU
q68 a Serious Call
All men therefore are fingers, in the lame manner as all men t/ohk^ Jp^^^-j J^tigh^ and lament. For Cnging is no more an invention, than^ri^' o'i ]oy are inventions.
Every ftate of the heart naturally puts the body into Ibme ftate that is fuitable to it, and is proper to fhew it to other people. If a man is c^ngry^ or d'tfdatnfiil^ no one need in- itruct him how to exprefs thefe paffions by the tone of his voice. The Jlate of his heart diTpofes him to a f roper ufe of his voice.
If therefore there are but few fingers of dl-- vine fongs, if people want to be exhorted to this fart of devotion \ it is becaufe there are but few, whofe hearts are raffed to that height of piety, as to feel any motions of jay and delight in the praifes of God.
Imagine to yourfelf, that you had been with Mofes when he was led thro' the Red Sea ; that you had feen the waters divide themfelves, and ftand on an heap on both fides ; that you liad feen them held up till you had pafs'd thro''^ then let fall upon your enemies; do you think that you fhould then have wanted a vake or an ear to have fiang with Mofes^ The Lord is my firengthj and my fong^ and he is he- come my fahatmi^ &c. ? I know, your own heart tells you, that all people muft have l[yQ^n fingers upon fuch an occafion. Let this therefore teach you, that it is the heart that tunes a voice to fing the praifes of God; and that if you can't fing thefe fame words pow with joy^ it is becaufe you are not fo af^
fected
to a Devout and Holy Life. 269
fcfted with the falvation of the world by Jc- lus Chrift, as the Jezijs were, or you yourfelf would have been, with their deliverance at the Red lea.
That it is the Hate of the heart that difpo- fcs us to rejoyce in any particular kind of fing- ing, may be eafily proved from variety of ob- fervations upon human nature. An old de^ bauchee may, according to the language of the world, have neither voice nor ear^ if you only fing a ^falrrij or a fong in praife of virtue to him; but yet if in fome eafy tune you fing fomething that celebrates Kis former dchaiicheSy he will then, tho' he has no teeth in his head, Ihew you, that he has both a voice and an air to join in fuch mufick. You then awaken his heart, and he as naturally fi.ngs to fuch words, as he laughs when he is pkas'd. And this will be the cafe in every fong that touches the h^eart ; if you celebrate the ruling paffion of any man's heart, you put his voice in tune to join with you.
Thus if you can find a man, whofe ruling temper is devotion, whofe heart is full of God, his voice will rejoice in thofe longs of praife, which glorify that God, that is the joy of his heart, tho' he has neither voice nor ear for other mufick. Would you therefore delight- fully perform this part of devotion, it is not lb neceffary to learn a tune^ or pradilc upon notes ^ as to prepare your heart; for, as our blefled Lord faith, out of the heart proceed €Vil thoughts^ murders^ &:c. fo it is equally
true^
a 70 A Serious Call
true, that out of the heart proceed holy joysj thankjgiv'ing and fra'ife. If you can once lay with David^ My heart is -fixed^ 0 God, my heart is jixcd'^ it will be very ealy and natu- ral to add 5 as he did , J 'U)'ill Rng and give fraife^ &c»
Secondly y Let us now confider another rea- Ibn for this kind of devotion. As finging is a natural effeB of joy in the heart, fo it has alio a natural power of rendering the heart joyful.
■ The Ibul and body are lb united, that they have each of them power over one another in their actions. Certain thoughts and fenti- ments in the foul, produce fuch and luch mo- tions or actions in the body ; and on the other hand, certain motions and actions of the bo- dy, have the fame power of railing fuch and iUch thoughts and fentiments in the foul. So that as finging is the natural effeB of joy in the mind, fo it is as truly a natural cauje of railing joy in the mind.
As devotion of the heart naturally breaks out into outward afts of prayer, lb outward afts of prayer are natural means of raifing the devotion of the heart.
It is thus in all itates and tempers of the mind ; as the inward ftate of the mind produ- ces outward aftions fuitable to it, fo thofe outward aftions have the like power of rai- fing an inward Hate of mind fuitable to them.
As
to a Devout and Holy Life. a 7 1
As anger produces angry words, fo angry words incrcafe anger.
So that if wc barely confidcr human na- ture, we ftiall find, that fngtng or chanting the Plalms, is as proper and neceflary to raile our hearts to a delight in God, as prayer is proper and neceflary to excite in us the fpirit of devotion. Every realbn for one, is in all refpefts as ftrong a realbn for the other.
If therefore you would know the realbn and necelTity of finging Pfalms, you muft confider the realbn and neceffity of praifing and rejoicing in God ; becaule finging of Pfalms is as much the true exerciie and fup- port-of this fpirit of thankfgiving, as prayer is the true exercife and fupport of the fpirit of devotion. And you may as well think, that you can be devout as you ought, with- out the ufe of prayer, as that you can rejoice in God as you ought, without the pradice of finging of Pfalms. Becaule this finging is as much the natural language of praife and thankf- giving, as prayer is the natural language of devotion.
The union of foul and body is not a mix- ture of their fubftances, as we fee bodies uni- ted and mix'd together, but confifts folely in the mutual power that they have of acting upon one another.
If two perfons w^ere in fuch a ftate of de-
pendance upon one another, that neither of
them could act, or move, or think, or feel,
or fuffer, or defire any thing, without putting
a the
a 7^ ^ Serious Call
the other nito the fame condition, one might properly lay, that they were in a ftate of ftrid union, although their fubftanccs were not united together.
Now this is the union of the foul and bo- dy^ the lubftance of the one cannot be mix'dy or united with the other > but they are held together in fuch a ftate of union, that all the aftions and fufferings of the one, are at the fame time theadions and fufferings of the other. The foul has no thought or paffion, but the body is concerned in it^ the body has no adi- on or motion, but what in fome degree affeds the foul.
Now as it is the ible will of God, that is the reafon and cauje of all the powers and efFefts which you fee in the w^orld ; as the Sun gives light and heat, not becaufe it has any natural power of fo doing ^ as it is fix'd in a certain place, and other bodies moving about it ; not becaufe it is in the nature of the Sun to ftand ftill, and in the nature of other bo- dies to move about it ; but merely becaufe it is the will of God, that they fnould be in fuch a ftate. As the eye is the organ, or in- ftrument of feeing , not becaufe the skifis j and coats^ and humours of the eye, have a natural power of giving fight: As the ears are the organs , or inftruments of hearing y not becaufe the make of the ear has any na- tural power over founds, but merely becaufe it is the will of God, that feeing and hearing ftiouid be thus rcceiy'd: So in like manner it
to a T)e^out and Holy Life. 275
is the fole will of God, and not the nature of a human ibul or body, that is the caufe of this union betwixt the foul and the body.
Now if you rightly apprehend this Ihort account of the union of the foul and body, you will fee a great deal into the reafon and neceffity of all the outward parts of Re- ligion.
This union of our fouls and bodies, is the reafon both why we have lb little and 1lo much power over our felves. It is owing to this union, that we have fo little power over our fouls ; for as we cannot prevent the effeds of external objects upon our bo- dies, as we cannot command outward caufes, fo we cannot always command the inward ftate of our minds ; becaufe , as outward objeds ad upon our bodies without our leave, fo our bodies ad upon our minds by the laws of the union of the foul and the body : And thus you fee it is owing to this union, that we have fo little power over our felves.
On the other hand, it is owing to this union, that we have fo much power over our lelves. For as our fouls in a great meafure depend upon our bodies ; and as we have great power over our bodies, as we can command our outward adions, and oblige our lelves to fuch habits of life, as naturally produce ha- bits in the foul; as we can mortify our bo- dies, and remove our lelves from objeds that
T inflame
Q-74 ^ Serious Call
inflame our paffions ; fo we have a great power over the i/nvani ftate of our fouls. Again, as we are mailers of our outward adions ; as we can force our felves to outward acts of reading, praying, finging, and the like; and as all thcfe bodily actions have an effcd upon the foul, as they naturally tend to form fuch and fuch tempers in our hearts; fo by being mailers of thefe outward, bodily aftions, we have great power over the inward llate of the heart.
And thus it is owing to this union, that we have fo much power over our felves.
Now from this you may alio lee the neceC- fity and benefit of linging Pfalms, and of all the outward afts of Religion ; for if the body has fo much power over the foul, it is certain that all fuch bodily aftions as affed the foul, are of great weight in Religion. Not as if there was any true worlhip, or piety in the actions themfelves, but becaufe they are pro- per to raile and liipport that ffint^ which is the true worlhip of God.
Though therefore the feat of Religion is in the heart, yet fince our bodies have a power over our hearts, fince outward actions both proceed from, and enter into the heart, it is plain, that outward actions have a great power over that Religion which is feated in the heart.
We are therefore as well to ufe outward helps, as inward meditation, in order to be- get and fix habits of piety in our hearts.
This
to a Devout and Holy Life. *iyt^
This dodrine may eafily be carry'd too far; for by calling in too many outward means of worlhip, it may degenerate into fuperftition : as on the other hand, fome have fallen into the contrary extreme. For becaufe Religion is juftly plac'd in the heart, Ibme have pur- fued that notion fo far, as to renounce vocal prayer, and other outward acts of worfhip, and have refolved all Religion into a qme-- tlffrij or 7nyJ}ic intercourfes with God in fi-^ lence.
Now thefe are two extremes equally preju- dicial to true Religion; and ought not to be objected either againft internal, or external w^orfhip. As you ought not to lay, that I en- courage that qtuettjin^ by placing religion in the heart ; fo neither ought you to fay, that I encourage fuperftition, by fhewing the bene- fit of outward ads of worftiip.
For fince we are neither all fottl^ nor all Icdy ; feeing none of our actions are either fe- parately of the Ibul, or feparately of the bo- dy ; feeing wx have no habits but fuch as are produced by the aftions both of our fouls and bodies ; it is certain, that if we would arrive at habits of devotion, or delight in God, we muft not only meditate and exercife our fouls^ but we mult pra6tile and exercife our bodies to all fuch outward actions, as are conforma- ble to thefe inward tempers.
If we would truly proftrate our fouls before God, wx muft ufe our bodies to poftures of lowlinefs ; if we defire true fervours of devo-
T 2 tioa
^^6 A Serious Call
tion, we muft make prayer the frequent la- bour of our lips. If we would banifh all pride and paffion from our hearts, we muft force our felves to all outward actions of pati- ence and meeknefs. If we would feel in- \l'ard motions of joy and delight in God, we muft praftife all the outward afts of it, and make our voices call upon our hearts.
Now therefore, you may plainly fee the reafon and neceffity of Jinghg of ^falms \ it is becaufe outward aftions are neceflary to fup- port inward tempers ; and therefore the out- ward aft of joy is neceflary to raife and fup- port the inward joy of the mind.
If any people were to leave off prayer, be- caufe they feldom find the motions of their hearts anfwering the words which they fpeak, you would charge them with great abfurdity. You would think it very realbnable, that they fliould continue their prayers, and be ftrift in obferving all times of prayer, as the moft likely means of removing the dulnefs and in- devotion of their hearts.
Now this is very much the cafe as to fing- ing of Pfalms; people often fing without finding any inward joy fuitable to the words which they fpeak ; therefore they are careleis of it, or wholly negleft it ^ not confidcring, that they aft as ablurdly, as he that ftiould negleft prayer , becaufe his heart was not enough affefted with it. For it is certain, that this finging is as much the natural means
of
to a De^OHt and Holy Life, ijy
of raifing motions of joy in the mind , as prayer is the natural means of raifing devo- tion.
I have been the longer upon this head, be- caufe of its great importance to true religion. For there is no ftate of mind fo holy, lb ex- cellent, and & truly perfed, as that of thank- fnlnefs to God; and confequently nothing is of more importance in Religion, than that which exercifes and improves this habit of mind.
A dull^ uneafy^ cofnplamtng fpirit, which is Ibmetimes the fpirit of thole that leem care- ful of Religion , is yet of all tempers the moft contrary to Religion, for it difowns that God which it pretends to adore. For he fuC ficiently difowns God, who does not adore him as a Being of infinite goodnefs.
If a man does not believe that all the world is as God's family, where nothing hap- pens by chance, but all is guided and direfted by the care and providence of a Being that is all love and goodnefs to all his creatures ; if a man do not believe this frojn his heart, he cannot be faid truly to believ^ in God. And yet he that has this faith, hasi faith enough to overcome the world, and always be thankful to God. For he that believes that every thing happens to him for the heftj cannot poffibly complain for the want of fomething that is better.
If therefore you live in murmu rings and ipomplaints, accufing all the accidents of life,
T 3 it
^7?
A Serious Call
it is not becaufe you are a weak, infirm crea- ture, but it is becaufe you want the firlt prin- ciple of Religion, a right belief in God. For as thankfalnefs is an exprefs acknowledgment of the goodnefs of God towards you, lb repi- nings and complaints are as plain accufations of God's want of goodnefs towards you.
On the other hand, would you know who Is the greateft Saint in the world? It is not he wlio prays moft, or fajis moft ; it is not he who gives moft alms^ or is moft eminent for temperance, chaftity or juftice; but it is he who is always thankjtd to God, who wills eve- ry thing that God willeth^ who receives every thing as an inftance of God's goodnefs, and has a heart always ready to praife God for it.
All prayer and devotion, faftings and re- pentance, meditation and retirement, all fa- craments and ordinances , are but fo many means to render the foul thus divine, and con- formable to' the will of God, and to fill it with thankfulnefs and praife for every thing that comes from God. This is the perfection of all virtues ; and all virtues that do not tend to it, or proceed from it, are but fo ma- ny falfe ornaments of a foul not converted tinto God.
You need not therefore now wonder, that I lay fo much ftrefs upon finging a Pfalm at all your devotions, fince you fee it is to form your fpirit to fuch joy and thankfulnefs
tQ
to a Dezfout and Holy Life. 2 jp
to God, as is the higheft perfedion of a di- vine and holy life.
If any one would tell yon the Ihorteft, fureft way to all happinefs, and all perfedion, he muft tell you to make it a rule to your felf, to thdfjk. lvhI praije Gcd for every thing that happens to you. For it is certain, that whatever feeming calamity happens to you, if you thank and praife God for it, you turn, it into a bleffing. Could you therefore work miracles, you could not do more for your felf, than by this thankful f pi r It ^ for it heals with a word fpeaking, and turns all that it touches into happinefs.
If therefore you would be fo true to your eternal intereft, as to propofe this thankfulnefs as the end of all your Religion ^ if you would but lettle it in your mind, that this was the ftate that you was to aim at by all your de- votions, you would then have fomething plaia and vifible to walk by in all your adions, you would then eafily fee the effed of your vir- tues, and might fafcly judge of your improve- ment in piety. For lb far as you renounce all felfifh tempers, and motions of your own will, and leek for no other happinefs, but in the thankful reception of every thing that happens to you, lb far you may be fafely reckoned to have advanced in piety«
And altho' this be the higheft temper that you can aim at, tho' it be the nobleft facrifice that the greateft faint can offer unto God, yet i§ It not ty'd to any time^ or place^ or great
T 4 occaA*
a So A Serious Call
occafion, but is always in your power, and may be the exercife of every day. P'or the common events of every day are fufficient to difcover and exercife this temper, and may plainly fliew you how far you are governed in all your actions by this thankful fpirit.
And for this reafon I exhort you to this rnethoci in your devotion, that every day may be made a day of thankfgiving, and that the fpirit of murmur and difcontent may be un- able to enter into the heart, which is lb often employed in finging the praifes of God.
It may perhaps after all be objected, that although the great benefit, and excellent efFeds of this pradice are very apparent, yet it feems not altogether fo fit for private de- votions ; fince it can hardly be performed without making our devotions publick to other people, and feems alfo liable to the charge oi founding a trumpet at our prayers.
It is therefore anfwer'd, Flrji^ That great numbers of People have it in their power to be as private as they pleafej fuch perfons therefore are excluded from this excufe, which however it may be fo to others, is none to them. Therefore let fuch take the benefit of this excellent devotion.
Secondly^ Numbers of people are by the necejjity of their ftate, as fcrvants^ appren- tices^ prifonersy and families in fmall houfes, forc'd to be continually in the prefence, or fight of fomcbody or other.
Now
to a Dc'vout and Holy Life. 2 Si
Now are fuch perlbns to ncgleft their prayers^ becaule they cannot pray without '.being leen ? Are they not rather obhg'd to be more exaft in them, that others may not be witnefles of their negled, and lb corrupted by their example?
Now what is here faid of devotion, may furely be laid of this chanting a ^falm^ which is only a part of devotion.
The rule is this ; Don't pray that you may he feen of men, but if your confinement obli- ges you to be always in the fight of others, be more afraid of being feen to negleB^ than of being feen to have recoiirfe to prayer.
^hlrdly^ The fhort of the matter is this. Either people can ufe fuch privacy in this practice, as to have no hearers, or they can- not. If they can, then this objeftion vanifhes as to them: And if they cannot, theyfliould confider their confinement^ and the necejfittes of their Itate, as the confinement of a frlfon\ and then they have an excellent pattern to follow, they may imitate St. ^^anl and Silasy whofiang fratfies to God In pnfion^ though we are exprefly told, that the frifoners heard them. They therefore did not refrain from this kind of devotion for fear of being heard by others. If therefore any one is in the fame neceffity, either inprifion or out of prifon, -what can he do better, than to follow this example ?
I cannot pafs by this place of Scripture, ■VV'ithout defiring the pious reader to obferve,
how
aS2 A Serious Call
howftrongly weareherecaird upon to this nfe of Pfalms, and what a mighty recommendation of it, the practice of thele two great Saints is.
In this their great diftrels, in fr'tfon^ in chains^ under the Ibrenefs of firipes^ in the horror of nighty the dlvmefi^ hoVieji thing they could do, was to Jing pralfes unto God,
And fhall we after this, need any exhorta- tion to this holy praftice? Shall we let the day pafs without fuch thankfgivings, as they would not neglect in th^ntghtl Shall 2l frijbn^ chains^ and darknefsj furnilh them withfongs of praife, and Ihall we have no fingings in our clofets ?
Farther, let it alfo be obferv^d, that while
theie two holy men wxre thus employed in
the moft exalted pait of devotion, doing that
. on earthy which Angels do in Hea^
veUj thz.t the foundations of the pri"
fan were fhahen^ all the doors were opened^ and
every ones bands were loofed.
And Ihall we now ask for motives to this divine exercife, when inftead of arguments^ we have here fuch miracles to convince us of its mighty power with God?
Could God by a voice from Heaven more exprefsly call us to thefe longs of praife, than by thus fhewing us, how he hcarSy delivers^ and rezvards thole that ufe them ?
But this by the way, I now return to the objedion inhand; and anfwer Fourthly j That the privacy of our prayers is not deftroy*d by our having^ but by our feekin^ witneffes of them.
If
to a Devout and Holy Life. 283
If therefore no body hears you but thofe
you cannot feparateyour Iclf from, you areas
much infecret^ and your Father who feeth in
fecret^ will as truly reward your fecrecy, as if
you was ^Q^n by him alone.
Fifthly^ Private prayer, as it is opposed to prayer in fublkkj does not fuppofe, that no one is to have any witnefs of it. For husbands and wives J brothers 2inA Jijiers^ parents and children^ mafiers zndfervants^ tutors and pupils^ are to bewitnelTes to one another of fuch devo- tion, as may truly and properly be call'd pri- vate. It is flir from being a duty to conceal fuch devotion from fuch near rela.tions.
In all thefe cafes therefore, where luch re- lations fometimes pray together in private, and fometimes apart by themfelves , the chanting of a Pfalm can have nothing objected againft it.
Our blefTed Lord commands us, when we fafij to anoint our heads^ and wafh our faceSy that we appear not unto men to faji^ but unto our Father which is infecret.
But this only means, that we muft not make publick ojientation to the world of our faftng.^
For if no one was tofaft in private^ or could be faid to faft in private, but he that had no w^itnelTes of it, no one could keep a private fift, but he that liv'd by himfelf : For every flimily muft know who fafts in it. Therefore the privacy of fefting does not fuppofe fuch a privacy as excludes every body from knowing
it,
a 84 •^ Serious Call
it, but fuch a privacy as does not feefc to be known abroad.
Cornel} us the devout Centurion, of whom the Scripture faith, that he ^ave
Art*? TC '^ 7
mucPj and prayed to God alway^ faith unto St, ^eter^joiir days ago I wasfajlhig nnttl this hour.
Now that this fafting was fufficiently^rii^^/'^ and acceptable to God, appears from the vifion of an Jngelj with which the holy man was blels'd at that time.
But that it was not fo private, as to be entirely unknown to others, appears, as from the relation of it here, fo from what is faid in another place, that he call'd two cf his hoiifhold fervants^ and a de- vout foldier of them that waited upon him conti- nually. So that Cornelius his falling was lb far from being unknown to his family, that the foldiers and they of his houfliold were made devout themfelves, by contimuilly wai- ting upon him, that is, by feeing and parta- king of his good works.
The whole of the matter is this. Great part of the world can be as private as they pieafe, therefore let them ule this excellent de- votion between God and themfelves.
As therefore the privacy or excellency of falling is not deftroy'd by being known to Ibme particular peribns, neither would the privacy or excellency of your devotions be hurt, though by chanting a Pfalm, you ihould be heard by ibme of your family.
Another
to a De^voHt and Holy Life. a 8 ^
An&thcr greats fart of the world muft and ought to have witncflcs of feveral of their devotions ; let them therefore not negleft the life of a ^fahn at fach times as it ought to be known to thofe with whom they live, that they do not negled their prayers. For furcly, there can be no harm in being known to be ^;;^i;;^ a Pfalm, ^t Jiich times as it ONght to be known that you are at your prayers.
And if at other times, you defire to be in fuch fecrecy at your devotions, as to have no body fufped it, and for that reafon forbear your ^falm ; I have nothing to objed againft it : Provided, that at the knovv^n hours of prayer, you never omit this praftice.
For who would not be often doing that in the day^ which St. ^^^//and Silas would not negleft in the middle of the night? And if when you are thus finging, it Ihould come into your head, how the prifon flmk!d^ and the doors open'dy when St. '^^^^Z fang, it would do your devotion no harm.
Lajily^ Seeing our imaginations have great power over our hearts, and can mightily af- feft us with their reprejentatlons^ it would be of great ufe to you, if at the beginning of your devotions, you was to imagine to your lelf fome fuch reprefentations, as might heat and warm your heart into a temper faitable to thofe prayers that you are then about to offer unto GoJ.
As thus; before you begin your ?y7//;;2 of praife and rejoycing in God, make this uie pf your imagination. , Be
'2^6 A Serious Call
Be ftill, and imaghie to your felf, that you faw the heavens open, and the glorious Choirs of Cherubims and Seraphims about the throne of God. Imagine that you hear the mufick of thole Angelick voices that ceafe not day I and night to ling the glories of him that Isy and wasy and is to come.
Help your imagination with fuch paffages of Scripture as thefe. Revel, vii. 9. I beheldy and lo in heaven a great fnultitude which no man could number J of all nations^ and kindreds ^ and feople^ and tongues^ (landing before the thro^ie^and before the lamb^ cloath'd with white robeSy and falms in their hands. And they cried with a loud voicej Salvation to our God which Jitteth upon the throne^ and unto the lawih.
And all the angels flood round-about the throne^ and fell before the throne on their faces ^ and worf dipped God^ f tying j Amen: BleJ/ing^ and glory J and wifdom^ and thanhfgivingy and ho^ noury and power y andjirength^ be unto Gody for ever and ever. Amen.
Think upon this till your imagination has carried you above the clouds, till it has plac'd you amongft thofe heavenly beings, and made you long to bear a part in their eternal mufick.
If you will but ufe your felf to this me- thod, and let your imagination dwell upon fuch reprefentations as thele, you will loon find it to be an excellent means of raifing the Ipirit of devotion within you.
Always therefore begin your ^falm^ or
Song of praife, with thele imaginations '^^xvdi at
1 cyery
to a Devout and Holy Life. 287
every verfe of it, imagine your felf amongft thofe heavenly companions, that your voice is added to theirs, and that Jugels join with you, and you with them ; and that you with a poor and low voice are finging that on earth, which they are finging in heaven.
Again, Sometimes hnaguie that you had been one of thole that joined with our bleffed Saviour when he Jung an Hymn, Strive to imagine to your lelf, wuth what majefly he looked ; fancy that you had flood clofe by him furrounded with his glory. Think how your heart would have been inflom'd^ what ecflajtcs of joy you would have then felt, Vs'htn Jtnging with the Son of God. Think again and again, with what joy and devotion you would then have fung, had this been really your hap- py ftate, and what a punifhment you fliould have thought it, to have been then filent; and let this teach you how to be afFeded with ^falms and Hymns of thankfgiving.
Again, Sometimes imagine to your felf, that you faw holy David with his hands upon his harp^ and his eyes fix'd upon heaven^ calling in tranfport upon all the Creation, Sun and Moon^ light and darknefs^ day and nighty ?nen and angels^ to joyn with his raptu- rous Ibulin praifing the Lord of Heaven.
Dwell upon this imagination, till you think you are finging with this divine mufi- cian, and let fuch a companion teach you to exalt your heart unto God in the following Pfalm; wdiich you may ufe conftantly firft in the morning, Pfalm
2 88 A Serious Call
Pialm cxlv. I will 7nagmfy thee^ 0 God mf k'/ng : afid I will fraife thy name for ever and every &c.
Thele following Pialms, as the 34th, ^6xhj 103d, I nth, I46^th, 147th, are fuch as won- derfully fet forth the glory of God ; and there- fore you may keep to any one of them at any particular hour, as you like : Or you may take the fineft parts of any Pfalms, and fo ad- ding them together, may make them fitter for your own devotion.
I - V . . -. - — -^- ^
CHAP. XVL
tieCGmmending devotions at nine o'clock in themor- nhigy called in Scripture^ theXKiidi hour of the day. Thefubje£l ofthefe prayers^ is humility*
I Am now come to another hour of prayer, which in Scripture is called the third hour ot the day ; but according to our way of num- bering the hours, it is called the ninth hour of the morning.
The devout Chriftian muft at this time look upon himfelf as called upon by God to renew his ads of prayer, and addrefs himfelf again to the throne of grace.
There is indeed no exprefs command in, Scripture to repeat our devotions at this hour. But then it is to be confider'd alfo, that nei- ther is there any exprefs command to begin and end the day with prayer. So that if that be looked upon as a reafon for negle£l:ing de-
yotioa
to a Devout and Holy Life, a 8^
Votion at this hour, it may as well be urged as a realbn, for neglecting devotion both at the beginning and end of the day.
But if the praftice of the faints in all ages of the world, if the cuftoms of the pious yews and primitive Chriftians be of any force with us, we have authority enough to perfuade us, to make this hour a conftant leafon of de- votion.
The Scriptures fhcw us how this hour was confecrated to devotion both by yews and Chriftians; fo that if we defire to number our felves amongft thofe whofe hearts were devo- ted unto God, we muft not let this hour pafs, without prefenting us to him in fome folem- nities of devotion. And befides this autho- rity for this pradice, the reafonablenefs of it is fufficient to invite us to the oblervance of it.
For if you was up at a good time in the morning, your firft devotions will have been at proper diftance from this hour; you will have been long enough at other bufinels, to make it proper for you to. return to this great- eft of all bufinefs, the railing your Ibul and affeftions unto God.
But if you have rifen fo late^ as to be hard- ly able to begin your firft devotions at this hour^ which is proper for your fecond^ you may thence learn, that the indulging yourfelf in the morning fleep is no fmall matter; fince it fets you fo far back in your devotions, and
U robs
^po A Serious Call
robs you of thofe graces and bleflings, which are obtained by frequent prayers.
For if prayer h^is fower with God, if it loo-^ fes the bands of fin, if it pinfes the Ibul, re- forms our hearts, and draws down the aids of divine grace ; how can that be reckoned a jmall matter, which robs us of an hour of prayer ?
Imagine yourfelf fbme where placed in the air, as a fpedator of all that pafles in the world ; and that you faw in one view, the de- votions which all Chriftian people offer unto God every day. Imagine, that you faw fome pioufly dividing the day and nighty as the pri- mitive Chriftians did, and conftant at all hours of devotion, fnging Pfalms, and caU'wg upon God, at all thofe times, that Saints and Mar^ tyrs received their gifts and graces from God.
Imagine that you faw others living with- out any rules, as to times and frequency of prayer, and only at their devotions fooner or later, ^^Jleep and lazinefs happens to permit them.
Now if you was to fee this, as God fees it, how do you fuppofe you Ihould be affefted w^ith this fight? What judgment do you ima- gine, you fliould pafs upon thefe different forts of people ? Could you think, that thofe who were thus exaB in their rules of devotion, got nothing by their exaBnefs? Could you think, that their prayers were received jufl in the fame manner, and procured them no more
bleilings.
to a Devout and Holy Life. 191
bleflings, than theirs do, who prefer lazincft and indulgence to times and rules of devotion ?
Could you take the one to be as true fcr- vants of God, as the other ? Could you ima- gine, that thofe who were thus different in their llveSj would find no difference in their ftates after death? Could you think it a mat- ter of indtfferency^ to which of thefe people you were mojl like ?
If not, let it be now your care to join your felf to that number of devout people, to that fociety of faints, amongfl whom you defirc to be found, when you leave the world.
And altho* the bare number and repetition of our prayers is of little value, yet lince prayer rightly and attentively performed, is the moft natural means of amending and puri- fying our hearts ; fince importunity and jre- quency in prayer is as much prefs'd upon us by Scripture, as prayer itfelf 5 we may be fure, that when we are frequent and importunate in our prayers, wx are taking the hep ?neans of obtaining the higheft benefits of a devout life.
And on the other hand, they who through negligence, lazinefs, or any other indulgence^ render themfelves either unable, or uninclin'd to obferve rules and hours of devotion, w^e may be fure, that they deprive themielves of thofe graces and bleflings, which an exa^ and fervent devotion procures from God.
Now as this frequency of prayer is founded in the doftrines of Scripture, and recommend-
\J 2 ed
api A Serious Call
ed to us by the pradice of the true worfiilp- pers of God^ fo we ought not to think our IHves excufed from it, but where we can fliew, that we are fpending our time in fuch bufinefs, as is more acceptable to God, than thefe re- turns of prayer.
Lcaft of all mull we imagine, that duhefsy negligence J indulgence^ or dlverjions^ can be any pardonable excufes, for our not obferving an exaft and frequent method of devotion.
If you are of a devout fpirit, you will re- joice at thele returns of prayer, which keep your foul in an holy enjoyment of God^; which change your paffions into divine love, and fill your heart with ftronger joys and con- folations, than you can poffibly meet with in any thing elfe.
And if you are not of a devout fpirit, then you are moreover obliged to this frequency of prayer, to train and exercife your heart into a true fenfe and feeling of devotiqn.
Now feeing the holy fpirit of the Chriftian Religion, and the example of the faints of all ages, calls upon you thus to divide the day into hours of prayer ; lb it will be highly be- neficial to you, to make a right choice of thofe matters, which are to be the fubjeft of your prayers, and to keep every hour of prayer appropriated to Ibme particular fubjeft, which you may alter or enlarge, according as the ftate you are in requires.
By this means, you will have an opportu- nity of being large and particular in ail the
^arts
to a Devout and Holy Life. C2p3
farts of any virtue or grace, which you then make the fubjeft of your prayers. And by asking for it in all its parts, and making it the fubftance of a whoh prayer once er^ry day, you will loon find a mighty change in your heart; and that you cannot thus con- ftantly pray for all the parts of any virtue every day of your life, and yet live the reft of the day contrary to it.
If a worlcUy^minded man v/as to pray every day againft all the tnftances of a worldly tem- per ; if he Ihould make a large defcrtpttGn of the temptations of covetoufnefs, and defire God to affift him to rejeft them all, and to difappoint him in all his covetous defigns, he would find his confcience lb much awaken' d^ that he would be forced either to forfake luch prayers, or to forfake a worldly life.
The fame will hold true in any other in- ftance. And if we askj and have notj 'tis be-- caufe we ask amtfs, Becaufe we ask in cold and general forms, liich as only name the virtues, without defcribing xh^'n particular parts ^ fuch as are not enough particular to ©ur condition^ and therefore make no change in our hearts. Whereas when a man enumerates all the parts of any virtue in his prayers, his confcience is thereby awaken'd, and he is frighted at feeing how far Ihort he is of it. And this ftirs him up to an ardor in devotion, when he fees how much he wants of that virtue which he is praying for,
U 3 " I have
2p4 -^ Serious C a t l
I have in the laft chapter laid before yoB the excellency of pralje and thankj giving^ and recommended that as the lubjeft of your firft derotions in the morning.
And becaufe an humble (fate of foul is the
very ftate of Religion, becaufe humility is
the life 2indi foul of piety, the foundation and
fiipport of every virtue and good work, the
hSi guard 'a.nAfecurlty of all holy affections; I
fhall recommend humility to you, as highly
proper to be made the conftant fubject of your
devotions, at this third hour of the dayj
earncftly defiring you to think no Azj fafe^ or
likely to end well, in which you have not thus
early put yourfelf in this pofture of humility,
and called upon God to carry you through
the day in the exercife of a meek and lozvly
fpirit.
This virtue is fb eflential to the right fate of our fouls, that there is no pretending to a reafonahle or pious life without it. We may as well think to fee without eyes^ or live with- out breathy as to live in the fpirit of religion^ without the fpirit of humility.
And altho' it is thus the foul and cffence of all religious duties, yet is it, generally Ipeak- ing, the leaft under ft ood^ the leaft regarded^ the leaft intended^ the leaft defired and fought after, of all other virtues, amongft all Ibrts of Chriftians.
No people have more occafion to be afraid of the approaches of pride, than thofe who haye m^A^ fome advances in a pious life« For
pride
to a T)e^fout and Holy Life. 295
pride can grow as well upon our virtues as our vkes^ and fteals upon us on all occafions.
Every good thought that we have, every good aftion that we do, lays us open to pride, and expofes to the aflaults of vanity and felf- fatisfaftion.
It is not only the beauty of our perfbns, the gifts of fortune, our natural talents, and the diftindions of life ; but even our devotions and alms^ owx: fafthigs and humtltat'ions^ expofe us to frefli and ftrong temptations of this evil Ipirit.
And it is for this reafon, that I fo earneftly advile every devout peribn to begin every day in this exercife of humility, that he may go on mfafety under the proteftion of this good guide, and not fall a facrifice to his own pro- greft in thofe virtues, which are to fave man- kind from deftrudion.
Humility does not confift in having a worje opinion of ourfelves than we deferve, or in a- bafing ourfelves lower than we really are. But as all virtue is founded in truths fo humility IS founded in a true and juji fenfe of our weaknefsy mifery^ and fin. He that rightly feels and lives in this fenfe of his condition, lives in humility.
The weaknefs of our ftate appears from our inability to do any thing, as of ourfelves. In our natural ftate we are entirely without miy power ; we are indeed adive beings, but can only ad by a power, that is every moment lent us from God.
U 4 We
ap(5
A Serious Call
We have no more power of our own to move a hamiy or ftir 2i footy than to move the ftin^ or Hop the clouds.
When we fpeak a word, we feel no more power in ourfelves to do it, than we feel our lelves able to raife the dead. For we ad no more within our own fower^ or by our own ftrength, when we fpeak a word, or make a founds than the Jpcfiles aded within their own power, or by their own ftrength, when a word from their mouth call out devils^ and cured difeafes.
As it was folely the power of God that en- abled them to fpeak to fach furpofeSj fo it is folely the power of God that enables us to Ipeak at alL
We indeed find that we can Jpeak^ as w^e find that we are alive \ but the actual exercife of fpeaking is no more in our own power, than the adual enjoyment of life.
This is the dependent, helplefs poverty of our ftate ; w^hich is a great realbn for humility. For fince we neither are, nor can do any thing of ourfelves, to be proud of any thing that we are, or of any thing that we can do, and to ifcribe glory to ourfelves for thefe things, as our own ornaments, has the guilt both of jieaTing and lying. It has the guilt of Healing, as it gives to ourfelves thofe things which on- ly belong to God. It has the guilt of lying, as rt is the denying the truth of our ftate, and pretending to be lomething that we are not.
Seconds
to a Devout and Holy Life. 297
Secovdlyj Another argument for humility, is founded in the mifery of our condition.
Now the mifery of our condition appears in this, that we ufe thefe borrow' d powers of our nature, to the torment and vexation of our felves, and our fellow-creatures.
God Almighty has cntruftcd us with the ufe of realbn, and we ufe it to the diforder and corruption of our nature. We reafon ourfelves into all kinds of folly and mifery, and make our lives the fport of foolilh and extravagant paffions : Seeking after imaginary happinefs in all kinds of ftiapes, creating to ourfelves a thoufand wants, amufing our hearts with falfe hopes and fears, ufing the world worfe than irrational animals, envying, vexing and tormenting one another with reft- lefs paffions, and unrealbnable contentions.
Let any man but look back upon his own life, and fee what ufe he has made of his rea- fon, how little he has confulted it, and how lels he has followed it. What foolifh paffions^ what vain thoughts^ what needleis labours ^ w^hat extravagant frojeBs^ have taken up the greateft part of his life. How foolifh he has been in his words and converfation ; how iel- dom he has done wxil w'lXh judgment^ and Jiow often he has been kept from doing ill by accl- dent ; how feldom he has been able to pleaje himfelf, and how often he has d'ljpleafed others ; how often he has changed his counlels, hated what he lov'd, and lov'd what he hated ; how
often
2p8 A Serious Call
often he has been enrag'd and tranfported at trifles^ pleased and difpleas'd with the very fame th'ings^ and conftantly changing from one vanity to another. Let a man but take this view of his own life, and he will fee reafon enough to confefs, th3.t pride was not made for man.
Let him but confider, that if the world knew all that of him, which he knows of himfelf ; if they faw what vanity and pajftons govern his infide, and what iecret tempers fully and corrupt his beft aclions, he would have no more pretence to be honoured and admir'd for his goodnefs and wifdom^ than a rotten and difempered body to be lov'd and admir'd for its beauty and comelinefs.
This is lb true, and ^o known to the hearts of almoft all people, that nothing would ap- pear more dreadful to them, than to have their hearts thus fully difcovered to the eyes of all beholders.
. And perhaps there are very few people in the world, who would not rather chufe to die, than to have all \im.xfecret follies, the errors of their judgments, the -z;^/;^//;)^ of their minds, thtfafenefs of their pretences, the frequency j of their vain and diforderly pafjions^ their tin- eajinefs^ hatreds^ envies^ and vexations^ made known unto the world.
And fliall pride be entertained in a heart thus confciotis of its own m^ferahh behaviour?
Shall a creature in fuch a condition, that he could not fupport himfelf under x\\zfjame
of
to a Devout and Holy Life. 2.99
of being known to the world in his real fl ate \ Jhall luch a creature, becaufe his fhanie is on- ly known to God, to holy Angels, and his own conlcience; fhall he, in the fight of God and holy angels, dare to be vain and j^roiul of himfelf?
Thirdly y If to this we add the pame a,nd ^liilt of fin, we ftiall find a ftill greater realbn for humility.
No creature that had livVi in innocence, would have thereby got any pretence for felf-- honour and efieern^ becaufe as a creature, all that it is^ or has^ or does^ is from God, and therefore the honour of all that belongs to it, is only due to God.
But if a creature that is a Jinner^ and un- der the difpleafure of the great governor of ail the world, and deferving nothing from him, but pains and punifhments for the Jhameftil abufe of his powers ; if fuch a creature pre- tends to felf-glory for any thing that he is, or does , he can only be faid to glory in his Ihame ?
Now how rnon (Irons ^ndjhamejhl the nature of fin is, is fufficicntly apparent from that great attonemejit that is neceflary to cleanlc us from the guilt of it.
Nothing lefs has been required to take away the guilt of our fins, than the fufferings and death of the Son of God. Had he not taken pur nature upon him, our nature had been
for
300 A Serious Call
for ever feparated from God, and incapable of ever appearing before him.
And is there any room for pride or Jelf' glory ^ whilft we are partakers oi fuch a nature as this ?
Have our fins rendered us fo abominable and odious to him that made us, that he could not io much as receive our prayers, or admit our repentance, 'till the Son of God made himfelf man, and became a fuffering advocate for our whole race ; and can we in tins flate pretend to high thoughts of our lelves? Shall we prefume to take delight in our own worthy who are not worthy fo much as to ask pardon for our fins, without the me^ diation and interceffion of the Son of God ?
Thus deep is the foundation of humility laid, in thefe deplorable circumftances of our condition ; which Ihew, that it is as great an offence againft truth, and the reafon of things, for a man in this ftate of things, to lay claim to any degrees of glory, as to pretend to the honour of creating himfelf. If man will boaft of any thing as his own, he muft boaft of his mifery and Jin ; for there is nothing elfe but this, that is his own property.
Turn your eyes towards heaven, and fancy that you faw what is doing there ; that you favv cherubims and feraphlms^ and all the glo- rious inhabitants of th^t place, all united in one work; not feeking^/ not labouring their own advancefnent^ not con- templating their own perfetiions, not finging
their
to a Ven^out and Holy Life. 501
their own frsi/es^ not valuing themfelves y
and defpifing others^ but all employed in one
and the fame work, all happy in one and the
fame joy ; cafling down their crowns
before the throne of God y giving ^^^'^"^-^^^
glory J and honour , and fower to
htm alone.
Then turn your eyes to the fallen worlJy and confider how unreafonable and odious it muft be, for fuch poor wormsy fuch miferable Jinnersy to take delight in their own fancy* d glorteSy w^hilft the higheft and moft glorious Ions of heaven, feek for no other greatnels and honour, but that of alcribing all honour and greatnefs, and glory to God alone ?
Pride is only the diforder of the fallen
worldy it has no place amongft other beings ;
it can only fubfift where ignorance and fen^
fiialityy lies and falfhoody lufls and Impurity
reign.
Let a man, when he is moft delighted with his o^n figure y look upon a cracifxy and con- template our bleffed Lord fir etch d out, and naiVd upon a Crofs ^ and then let him confi- der, how abfurd it muft be, for a heart full of fride and vanity y to pray to God, through the fufferings of fuch a meek and cructffd Sa- viour ?
Thefe are the reflexions that you are often to meditate upon, that you may thereby be dilpos'd to walk before God and man in fuch a fpirit of humility, as becomes the weaky
raifc'
§02 A Serious C A L L
mtferahk^ Jinful ftate of all that are defcended from fallen Jdatn,
When you have by fuch general refleftions as thefe, convinc'd your mind of the reafpna- blenefs of humility, you muft not content your felf with this, as if you was therefore humble, bccaufe your mind acknowledges the reafonablenefs of humility, and declares a- gainft pride. But you muft immediately en- ter your felf into the praftice of this virtue, like a young beginner ^ that has all of it to learn, that can learn but little at a time, and with great difficulty. You muft confider, that you have not only this virtue to learn, but that you muft be content to proceed as a learner in it all your time, endeavouring after greater degrees of it, and practifing every day ach of humility, as you every day pra- ctice ad:s of devotion.
You would not imagine your felf to be de- vout, becaule in your judgment you approved of prayers, and often declared your mind in favour of devotion. Yet how many people imagine themfelves humble enough, for no other reafon , but becaufe they often com- mend humility, and make vehement decla- rations againft pride ?
C^cus is a rich man, of good breeding, and very fine parts. He is fond of drefs^ curious in t\\QjmaUeJi matters that can add any orna^ 7ne72t to his perfon. He is haughty and im- perious to all hTs inferiors, is very full of eve- ry thing that he fays, ,or does, and never I ima-
« ■^■
to a T)e^ont and Holy Lifi' 303
imagines it poffible for fuch a judgment as his to be miftaken. He can bear no contra- dicSion, and dilcovers the weaknels of your undcrftanding , as foon as ever you oppole him. He changes every thing in his bor^Jey his babif-j and his eqii'tpcige^ as often as any thing more elegant comes in his way. Qvcus would have been very religious, but that he always thought he was fo.
There is nothing fo odious to dec us as a proud man; and the misfortune is, that in this he is fo very quick-fighted, that he dil- covers in almoft every body, fome Jirckes of vanity.
On the other hand, he is exceeding fond of humble and modeft perfons. Humility, lays he, is fo amiable a quality, that it forces our cfteem where-ever we meet with it. There is no poffibility of defpifing the ?neaneji per- fon that has it, or of efteeming the greateji man that wants it.
Ccecus no more fufpecls himfelf to be proud, than he fufpefts his want of fenfe. And the reafon of it is, becaufe he always finds himfelf fo in love with humility, and ib enrag'd at pride.
It is very true, C^cusy you fpeak jincereJy when you fay you love humility, and abhor pride. You are no hypocrite^ you fpeuk the true fentiments of your mind ; but then take this along with you, CvciiSy that you only love humility, and hate pride, in other people. You never once in your life thought of any
other
304 A Serious Call
other humility, or of any other pride, than that which you have feen in ofber people.
The cafe of Ccecus is a common cafe ; many people live in all the inftances of pride, and indulge every vanity that can enter into their minds, and yet never fufped thcmfelves to be governed by pride and vanity, becaufe they know how much they diflike proud people, and how mightily they are pleas'd with hu- mility and modefty, where-ever they find them.
All their fpeeches in favour of humility, and all their railings againft pride, are look'd upon as fo many true exerciles, and effefts of their own humble Ipirit.
Whereas in truth, thefe are fo far from be- ing proper afts, or proofs of humility, that they are great arguments of the want of it.
For the fuller of pride any one is himfelf, the more impatient will he be at the fmallell inftances of it in other people. And the lels humility any one has in his own mind, the more will he demand, and be delighted with it in other people.
You muft therefore ad by a quite contrary meafure, and reckon your felf only io far humble, as you impofe every injiance of hu- mility upon your felf, and never call for it ia other people. So far an enemy to pride, as you never fpare it in your felf^ nor ever cen-^ Jure it in other perfons.
Novi
to a Dez^oui aJtd Holy Life. 505
Now in order to do this, you need only confider, that pride and humility fignify no- thing to you, but io llir as they are your own ; that they do you neither good not harm, but as they are the tempers of your own heart.
The loving therefore of humility is of no benefit or advantage to you, but fo far as you love to fee all your own thoughts, words, and adions governed by it. And the hating of pride does you no good, is no perfection in you, but fo far as you hate to harbour any degree of it in your own heart.
Now in order to begin, and fet out well iii the pradice of humility, you muft take it for granted, that you are proud j that you have all your life been more or lefs infeded with this unreafonable tem.pen
You fhould believe alio, that it is ybur^r*?^^- ^fl weaknefs, that your heart is niokjubjeSl to it, that it is fo conflantly ftealing upon you, that you have reafon to watch and fulped its approaches in all your aftions.
For this is w^hat moft people, efpeclally new beginners in a pious life^ may with great tmth think of themfelves.
For there is no one vice that is more deep- ly rooted in our nature, or that receives fuch conftant nourifhment from almoft eVery thing that we think or do. There being hardly any thing in the w^orld that we wayit or ufe^ or uny aBton or duty of life, but pride finds fom0 means or other to take hold of it. So that at ^'hat time foeyer we begin to offer our felyes
X to
^o6 ^ Serious Call
to God, we can hardly be furer of any things than that we have a great deal of pride to re- pent of.
If therefore you find it difagreeable to your mind to entertain this opinion of your felf, and that you cannot put your felf amongft thofe that want to be cur'd of pride, you may be as furc, as if an ^?2gel from heaven had told you, that you have not only much, but all your humility to feek.
For you can have no greater fign of a more confirmed pride, than when you think that you are humble enough. He that thinks he loves God enough, fiiews himfelf to be an entire ftranger to that holy paffion ; fo he that thinks he has humility enough, fhews that he is not fo much as a beginner in the pradice of true humility.
CHAP. XVII.
Shewing how difficult the praBke of humility h made^ by the general Jplrlt and temper of the world. How Chrtjiianlty re^uireth us to live contrary to the world.
EVery perlbn, when he firft applies him- felf to the exercife of this virtue of hu- mility, muft, as I faid before, confider him- felf as a learn§r^ that is to learn fomething
that
to a Devout and Holy Life. 307
that IS contrary to former tempers and habits of mind, and which can only be got by daily and CGfifiant pradicc.
He has not only as much to do, as he that has fome new art^ or fclence to learn, but he has alfd a great deal to unlearn : He is to for- get, and lay afide his own fprtt^ which has been a long while fixing and forming it felf ; he mull forget, and depart from abundance of paflions and opinions, which the fafhiony and vogue ^ and Ipirit of the world, has made natural to him.
He mult lay afide his own fpirit \ becaufe as we are born in jln^ fo in pride^ which is as natural to us as lelf-love , and continually fprings from it. And this is one reafon why Chrittianity is fo often reprefented as a new hlrth^ and a new fplrlt.
He mull lay afide the opinions and paffions which he has received from the world, becaufe the vogue and fajhlon of the world, by which we have been carry 'd away, as in a torrent^ before we could pafs right judgments of the value of things, is in many refpeds contrary to humility ; lb that we mull unlearn what the fpirit of the world has taught us, before we can be governed by the fpirit of humility.
The Devil is call'd in Scripture the prince of this world, becaufe he has great power in it, becaufe many of its rules and principles are invented by this evil fpirit, the father of all lies and filfhood, to feparate us from God^ and prevent our return to happinei^.
X 2 Now
5oS
A Serious C a L t
Now according to th.t f pint ^.nd vogue of this world, whofe corrupt air we have all breath'd, there are many things that pafs for great , and honourable , and moft dejirahle , which yet are i^o far from being fo, that the true greatnefs and honour of our nature con- lifts in the not defiring them.
To abound in wealth, to have fine houfes, and rich cloaths, to be attended with fplendor and equipage, to be beautiful in our perfons, to have titles of dignity, to be above our fellow-creatures, to command the bows and obeifance of other people, to be looked on with admiration, to overcome our enemies with power, to fubdue all that oppofe us, to fet out our felves in as much fplendor as we can, to live highly and magnificently, to eat and drink, and delight our felves in the moft coftly manner, thefe are the great ^ the honou^ rable^ the dejtrabk things, to which the fpl-- rlt of the world turns the eyes of all people. And many a man is afraid of ftandmg ftill, and not engaging in the puriiiit of thefe things, left the fame world fliould take him for Tifooh
The hiftory of the Gofpel, is chiefly the hiftory of Chrift^s conqueft over this fpirit of the world. And the number of true Chri- ftians, is only the number of thofe who fol- lowing the Spirit of Chrift, have liv'd contra^ ry to this fpirit of the world.
If any man hath not the Spirit of Chrifiy he is none of his. Again, Whofoever is born of
God^
to a Ve'vout and Holy Life. 509
God^overcometh the world. Set y oar affeti'wnson things ahove^ andmt on things on the earth ; for ye are dead., and your life is hid with Chrifl in God, This is the language of the whole New Teftament. This is the mark of Chri- llianity; you are to be dead^ that is, dead to the fp'irit and temper of the world, and live a new life in the Spirit of Jefus Chrift.
But notwithftandingthe clearnelsand plain- nefs of thele doctrines w;hich thus renounce the world, yet great part of Chriftians live and die flaves to the cnjioms^ and temper of the world.
How many people fwqll with pride and vanity., for fuch things as they would not know how to value at all, but that they are ad- mired in the w^orld ?
Would a man take ten years more drudgery in bufinefs to add tzvo horjes mox^ to his coach, but that he knows, that the world moft of all admires a coach and fx ? How fearful are many people of having their houfes poorly furnifli'd, or themfelves meanly cloath'd, for this only reafon, left the world fliould make no account of them, and place them amongft low and mean people ?
How often would a man h^y^ yielded to the haughtinels and ill nature of others, anci ihewn a fuhmijftve temper, but that he dares not pals for luch a poor-lpirited man in the opinion of the world ?
Many a man would often drop a refentment ixnd forgive 'm afront^ but that he is ^fraid^
5 1 o A Serious Call
if he ftiould, the world would not forgiv him?
How many would pradifc Chriftian Umpe^^ ranee and fobriety in its utmoft ferfeBlon^ were it not for the cenfure which the world pafles upon luch a life ?
Otheto have frequent intentions of living up to the rules of Chriftian perfedion, which they are frighted from, by confidering what the world would fay of them.
Thus do the imprellions which we have re- ceived from living in the world enflave oui; minds, that we dare not attempt to be emi^ nent in the light of God, and holy Angels, for fear of being little in the eyes of the world.
From this quarter arifesthe greateft difficul- ty of humility, becaufe it cannot fubfift in any mind, but fo far as it is dead to the world, and has parted with all defires of enjoying its greatnefs, and honours. So that in order to be truly humble, you muft unlearn all thofe notions which you have been all your life learning from this corrupt fpirit of the world.
You can make no Jiand againft the affaults of pride, the meek affections of humility can have no place in your foul, till you flop the power of the world over you, and refolve againft a hllnd ohediencc to its laws.
And when you are once advanced thus far, as to be able to ftand ftill in the torrent pf worldly/^;;/?;; J and ofmons^ and examine
to a Devout and Holy Life. 3 1 1
the worth and value of things which are moft admir'd and valued in the world, you have gone a great way in the gaining of your free- dom, and have laid a good foundation for the amendment of your heart.
For as great as the power of the world is, it is all built upon a /?/'md ohedie?2Ce^ and w^e need only open our eyes, to get quit of its power.
Ask who you will, learned or unlearned ^ every one feems to know and confels, that the general temper and fpirit of the world, is nothing elfe but humour^ folly ^ Mnd extra-
vagance.
Who will not own, that the wifdom of ^Philofophy^ the piety of Religion^ was always confined to a Ihiall number ? And is not this exprefly owning and confeffingjthat the commGH- fpirit and temper of the world, is neither ac- cording to the wiidom of ^Vhilojbphy^ nor the piety of Religion.
The world therefore feems enough con- demned even by its felf, to make it very eafy for a thinking man to be of the fame judg- ment.
And therefore I hope you will not think it a hard faying^ that in order to be humble^ you muil withdraw your obedience from that vulgar fpirit which gives laws to ¥ops and Coquets^ and form your judgments according to the wifdom of "T^hrlofophy ^ and the piety of Religion. Who would be afraid of making fijch a change as this?
X 4 Again,
3 1 ^ A Serious Call
Again, To leffen your fear and regard to the opinion of the world, think how foon the world w^ill difregard you, and have no more thought or concern about you, than about the focrefl amnial that dy'd in a ditch.
Your friends, if they can, may bury you with fome diftinftion, and fet up a monu- ment to let pofterity fee that your duf} lies under fuch a Stone ^ and when, that is done, -all is done. Your place is fiU'd up by another, the world is juft in the fame ftate it was, you are blotted out of its fight, and as much forgotten by the world as if you had never belonged to it.
Think upon the rlchy the great^ and the learned perlbns, that have made great figures, and been high in the efteem of the world; imany of them died in your time, and yet they are funk, and loft, and gone, and a^ jnuch difregarded by the world, as if they had been only lb many bubbles of water.
Think again, how many poor fouls fee Jieaven loft, and lie now expecting a miferable eternity, for their fervice and homage to z world, that thinks it felf every whit as well without them, and is juft as nierry as it was, when they wxre in it.
Is it therefore w^orth your while to lofe the fmallefv degree of virtue, for the fake of plear fing lb bad a niajlery and lb falfe a Jrlend as the world is ?
Is it worth your while to bow the knee to fuch an idol as this, that lb fopn will have
neither
to a Ve'VOHt and Holy Life. 315
neither eyesj nor ecirs^ nor a heart to regard you ; inftead of lerving that great, and holy, and mighty God, that will make all his ler- vants p:irtakers of his own eternity ?
Will you let the fear of a falle world, that has no love for you, keep you from the fear ,of that God, who has only created you, that he may love and blefs you to all eternity ?
Laphy you muft confider what behaviour the profeffion of Chriftianity requireth of you, with regard to the world.
Now this is plainly delivered in thefe words : Who gave h'lmjllf for our jins^ that ^. . he might deliver as fr 07)1 this frefent evil world. Chriftianity therefore implieth a deliverance from this world; and he that pro- feffeth it, profelTeth to live contrary to every thing and every temper, that is peculiar to this evil world.
St. John declareth this oppofition to the world in this manner, 'They are of the world: therefore fpeak they of the world^ ^ . . and the ivorld heareth them. We ^ are of God. This is the defer ipt ion of the followers of Chrift *, and it is proof enough that no people are to be reckoned Chriftians in reality, who in their hearts and tempers be- long to this world. We knozv^ faith the fame Apoftle, That we are of God. and the whole world lleth In wlckeduefs. Chriftians therefore can no farther know that they are of God, than fo far as they know they are not of the world j that is, that they
dont
314 ^ Serious Call
don't live according to the ways znd Jpirit of the world. For all the ways, and maxims, and politicks, and tempers of the world, lie in wickednefs. And he is only of God, or born of God in Chrift Jefus, who has overcome this world,, that is, who has chofe to live by faith, and govern his aftions by the principles of a wildom revealed from God by Chrift Jefus.
St. ^P aid takes it for a certainty fo well Jcnown to Chriftians, that they are no longer to be confider'd as living in this world, that he thus argues from it, as from an undeniable principle, concerning the abolilhing the rites of the yewijh law: Wherefore if ye be dead- wit h Chriji from the rudiments of the world y why^ as though living in the world ^ are ye fubjeSi to ordinances P Here could be no argument in this, but in the Apoftle's taking it for undeniable, that Chri- ftians knew, that their profeffion required them to have done with all the tempers, and paffi- ens of this world, to live as citizens of the new Jerujalemy and to have their converfati- on in heaven.
Our bleffed Lord himfelf has fully deter- mined this point, in thefe words: They are not of this zvorld,^ as I am not of this world. This is the ftate of Chriftianity with regard to this world. If you are not thus out of, and contrary to the world, you want the di- ftinguiihing mark of Chriftianity; you don't belong to Chrift, but by being out of the v/orld as he was ovit of it.
We
to a Devout and Holy Life. g i ^
We may deceive our fclves, if we plcafc, with vain and Ibftning comments upon thele w^ords, but they are and will be undcrftood in their firft fimplicity and plainnefs, by every one that reads them in the fame fpirit that our bleffed Lord fpoke them. And to un- derftand them in any lower, lefs fignificant meaning, is to let carnal wifdom explain away that doftrine, by which it felf was to be dcftroy'd.
The Chriftians great conqueft over the world, is all contained in themyftery of Chrift upon the Crofs. It was there, and from thence, that he taught all Chriftians how they were to come out of, and conquer the world, and what they were to do in order to be his Difciples. And all the dotirinesj facramentSy and in ft It ut tons of the Gofpel, are only fo ma- ny explications of the meaning, and applica- tions of the benefit of this great myftery.
And the ftate of Chriftianity implieth no-r thing elfe but an entire^ abjblute conformity to that fpirit which Chrift fliew'd in the my- fterious lacrifice of himlelf upon the crofs.
Every man therefore,is only fo far a Chriftian, as he partakes of this IJDirit of Chrift. It was this that made St. ^aul Yo paffionately exprefs liimfelf, God forbid that I fhoidd glor)\ Jlwe in the crofs of our Lord Jejiis Chrift : But why does he glory? Is it becaufe Chrift had ftiffer^d in his ftead, and had excus'd him from fuffc- ring ? No, by no means. But it was becaufe bis chrjftian profcffion had call'd him to the
honour
516 J Serious Call
honour of fufFering with Chrift, and of dying to the world under reproach and contempt, as he had done upon the Crofs. For he im- mediately adds, by who??i the iJuorld a • VI. 14. ^^ crudjied unto me^ and I unto the world. This you fee was the reafon of his glorying in the crofs of Chrift, becaufe it had caird him to a like Hate of death and crucifixi- on to the world.
Thus was the Crofs of Chrlft, in St. haul's days, the glory of Chriftians; not as it fignifi- ed their not being afliam'd to own a Mafter that was crucified, but as it fignified their glorying in a Religion, which was nothing elfe but a dodrine of the Crofs, that call'd them to the fame fuffering fpirit, the fame ijicrifice of themfelves, the fame renunciation of the world, the fame humility and meek- nels, the fame patient bearing of injuries, re- proaches, and contempts, and the fame dying to all the greatnefs, honours and happinefs of this world, which Chrift Ihew'd upon the Crofs.
To have a true idea of Chriftianity, we muft not confider our bleffed Lord as liiffering in our fteady but as our reprcfentatlve^ ading in our namcj and with fuch particular merit, as to make our joining with him, acceptable unto God.
He fuffer'd, and was a lacrifice, to make our fufferings and facrifice of our felves fit to be received by God. And we are to fuffer, to be crucified, to die, and rife with Chrift^
or
to a Devout and Holy Life. ^ly
or elfe his crucifixion, death and relurreftion will profit us nothing*
The neceffity of this conformity to all that Chrift did, and fuffcr'd upon our account, is very plain from the whole tenor of Scripture.
Firjfj as to \i\^fufenngs^ this is the only condition of our being lav'd by them, if we fuffer with hhn^ we pall alfo reign with him.
Secondly^ as to his Crticijixion, Knowing this^ that oar old man is ^^' ^^' ^* crucijied with him^ 8Cc. Here you fee Chrift is not crucified in our Jlead:^ but unlefs our old man be really crucified with him, the crofs of Chrift will profit us nothing.
Thirdly^ as to the death of Chrift, the con- dition is this ; If we be dead with Chrift^ zve believe that we Jhall alfo live with him. If therefore Chrift be dead alone, if we are not dead with him, we are as lure from this Scrip- ture, that we fhall not live with him.
Lafily^ as to the refurreBion of Chrift, the Scripture ftieweth us how we are to partake of the benefit of it: If ye be rifen with Chrijl^ feek thofe thijjgs which are above ^ C i •• where Chrift fitteth on the right hand of God.
Thus you fee how plainly the Scripture fets forth our blelTed Lord, as our re^refentative^
afting
5i8
A Serious Call
acling and fuffcring in our name, hinding~and obliging us to conibrm to ail that he did and fuffered for us.
It was for this reafon, that the holy Jefus faid of his difciples, and in them of all true believers, 'They are not of this world^ as I am not of this vjorld. Becaufe all true believers conforming to the Jiiffenngs^ crucijixion^ death ^ 2i\\d.refurre^ion of Chrift, live no longer after the fpirit and temper of this world, but their life is hid with Chrift in God.
This is the ftate of feparation from the world, to which all orders of Chrift ians are called. They muft lb far renounce all world- ly tempers, be fo far governed by the things of another life, as to fhew, that they are tru- ly and really crucify'd^ dead^ and riftn with Chrift. And it is as necelFary for all Chrifti- ans to conform to this great change of Ipirit, to be thus in Chrift new creatures^ as it was neceffary that Chrift ftiould Juffer^ dye^ and rije again for our falvation.
How high the Chriftian life is placed above the ways of this world, is wonderfully defcrib'd by St. ^aul in thefe words : Where^ 2 or. V. I . y^^^^ henceforth know we 720 man af- ter the flefJj ; yea^ tho' we have known Chrijt^ after the flefto^ yet henceforth know we him no tnore. Therefore ij any man be in Chrifi^ he is a nezv creature : old things are pajs'd away ^ he^* holdy all things are become new.
He that feels the force and fpirit of theie words, can hardly bear any human interpreta- tion
to a T)e'vout and Holy Life. 319
tion of them. Henceforth, liiys he ; that is, lince the death and refurrection of Chrift, the Hate of Chriftianity is become lb glorious a ftate, that we don't even conlidcr Chrift him- lelf as in the flelh upon earth, but as a God of glory in heaven; \vc know and confider ourfelves not as men in the flclh, but as fel- low-members of a new Ibciety, that arc to have all our hearts, our tempers, and conver- lation in heaven.
Thus it is that Chriftianity has placed us out of, and above the world ; and we fall from our calling, as loon as we fall into the tem- pers of the world.
Now as it was the fpirit of the world that nailed our blefled Lord to the cro/j j fo every man that has the fpirit of Chrift, that oppofes the world as he did, will certainly be crucify 'd by the world Ibme w^ay or other.
For Chriftianity ftill lives in the fame world that Chrift did; and thefe two will be utter enemies, till the kingdom of darkncls is entirely at an end.
Had you lived with our Saviour as his true difciple, you had then been hated as he was ; and if you now live in his fpirit, the world will be the fame enemy to you now, tliat it was to him then.
If ye wef^e of the worlds faith our blefled Lord, the world would love Its own ; hut hecaiife ye are not of the world ^ -^^^^ ^^' ^^' hut I have chofen you out of the world^ therefore the world hateth pu.
a W
gio A Serious Call
We are apt to lole the true meaning of thele words, by confidering them only as an hijlortcal dejcnptwn of Ibmcthing that was the ftate of our Saviour and his diiciples at that time. But this is reading the Scripture as a dead letter :^ for they as cxadly delcribe the ftate of true Chriftians at this, and all other times, to the end of the world.
For as true Chriflianlty is nothing elfe but the Ipirit of Chrift, fo whether that fpirit ap- pear in the perfon of Chrift himlelf, or his Apoftles, or followers in any age, it is the fame thing ; whoever hath his Ipirit, will be hated, defpifed, and condemned by the world, as he was.
For the world will always love its own, and none but its own : this is as certain and un- changeable, as the contrariety betwixt Tight ana djrknejs.
Wiicn the holy Jefus faith. If the world hate yotij he does not add by way cf conlbla- tion, that it may fome time or other ceafe its hatred, or that it will not always hate them ; but he only gives this as a reafon for their bearing it. Ton know that it hated me before U hated you : lignifying, that it was he, that is, his fpirit, that by reafon of its contrariety to the world, was then, and always would be, hated by it.
You will perhaps fay, that the world is nov/ become Chriftian, at leaft that part of it where we live j and therefore the world is not
now
i
to a 7)e^oHt and Holy Life. 521
now to be confidcred in that ftate of oppofiti- on to Chriilianity, as when it was heathen.
It is granted, the world now profcilcth Chriftianity. But will any one fay, that this Chriftian world is of the fpirit of Chrift ? Are its general tempers the tempers of Cin-ift ? Are the pallions of fenfuality, lelf-love, pride, co- vetoufnefs, ambition, and vain-glory, lefs con- trary to the fpirit of the Gofpel, now they are amongft Chriftians, than when they were amongft heathens ? Or will you fay, that the tempers and pallions of the heathen world are loft and gone ?
Confider, fecondly^ what you are to mean by the world. Now this is fully delcribed to our hands by St. yohn. All that is in the world, the lujl ofthefiejjj, ' ^^^^ "" '^' the luji of the eyes, and the pride of life, 5Cc. This is an exafl: and full defcriptiou of the world. Now will you fay, that this world is become Chrifian? But if all this ftill fubfifts, then th^fame world is now in being, and the fame enemy to Chriftianity, that was in St. Johi's days.
It was this world that St. ^^ohn condemned, as being not of the Father ; whether therefore it outwardly profcITcth, or openly perfecuteth Chriftianity, it is ftill in the fame ftate of contrariety to the true fpirit and holinels of the Gofpel.
And indeed the world by profeiling Chri- ftianity, is fo far from being a lefs dangerous enemy than it was before, that it has by its
Y fayouri!
52 2 A Serious Call
favours deftroycd more Chriftians, than ever it did by the moft violent periecution.
We muft therefore be fo far from confider- ing the world as in a ftate of lefs enmity and oppofition to Chriftianity, than it was in the firft times of the Gofpel, that we muft guard againft it as a greater and more dangerous enemy now, than it was in thofe times.
It is a greater enemy, becaufe it has great- er power over Chriftians by its favours, riches, honours, rewards and protections, than it had by the fire and fury of its perfecutions.
It is a more dangerous enemy, by having loft its appearance of enmity. Its outward profeffion of Chriftianity makes it no lon- ger confiderM as an enemy , and therefore the generality of people are eafily perluaded to refign themfelves up to be governed and di- rcftcd by it.
How many confciences are kept at qulet^ upon no other foundation, but becaufe they fin under the authority of the chriftian world ?
How many directions of the Gofpel lye by unregarded ; and how unconcernedly do par- ticular perfons read them ; for no other realbn, but becaufe they feem unregarded by the chri- ftian world ?
How many compliances do people make to the chriftian world, without any hefitation, or remorfe ; which if they had been required <>f tliem only by heathens, would have been
refus'd;j
*? '> '^ 1
to a Ve^vout and Holy Life. 5
rcfus'd, as contrary to the holinels of Chriftia- nity ?
Who could be content with feeing how contrary his life is to the Gof'pcl., but bccaufe he fees that he lives as the chriilian world doth ?
Who that reads the Gofpel, would want to be perfuaded of the neceflity of great Jelf- denial., hamility^ and poverty of Jfirit , but that the authority of tlie world has banilh'd this doftrine of the crofs ?
There is nothing therefore, that a good Chriftian ought to be more fufpicious of, or more conftantly guard ugainft, than the au- thority of the chrifian zvorld.
And all the paffages of Scripture, which reprefent the world as contrary to Chriftianity, which require our feparation from it, as from a mafimion of tin right eoufrieJ]\ a monlter of ini- quity, are all to be taken in the £\n\t fn^i fcnfcj in relation to the prefcnt world.
For the change that the world has under- gone, has only alter'd its methods, but not lefTen'd its power of deftroying Religion.
Chriftians had nothing to fear from the hea^ then worM., but the lols of their lives ; but the world become a friend., makes it difficult for them tofave their Religion.
Whilft pride., fenfuaVity., covetoufnefs and amhifwn^ had only the authority of the hea-- then worlds Chriftians were thereby made more intent upon the contrary virtues. But when pride, fenluality, covetoufnefs and ambition,
Y 2 bay?
5^4 ^ Serious Call
have the authority of the Chriftian world , then private Chriftians are in the utmoft dan- ger, not only of being fliam'd out of the pra- dice, but of lofing the very notion of the piety of the Gofpel.
There is therefore hardly any poffibility of faving your felf from the prefent world, but by confidering it as the fame wicked enemy to all true holinefs, as it is reprefented in the Scriptures \ and by affuring your felf, that it is as dangerous to conform to its tempers and fajjions^ now it is chriltian, as when it was heathen.
For only ask your felf. Is xhcpiety^ the hu- mUty^ the fohrlety of the chriftian world, the piety, the humiHty, and fobriety of the chri- ftian fpirlt ? If not, how can you be more undone by any world, than by conforming to that which is chriftian?
Need a man do more to make his foul un- fit for the mercy of God, than by being gree- dy and ambitious of honour? Yet how can a man renounce this temper, without renoun- cing the fpirit and temper of the world, in Vv hich you now live ?
How can a man be made more incapable of the fpirit of Chrift, than by a wrong value for money j and yet how can he be more wrong in his value of it, than by following the autho- rity of the chriftian world?
Nay, in every order and fiation of life, whether of learning or bujinefs j either in Church or State^ you cannot a rit
to a Devout and Holy Life. 325
rit of Religion, without renouncing the molt general temper and behaviour of thofe, who are of the fame order and bufinels as your felf
And though human prudence feems to talk mighty wifely about the neceflity of avoiding particularities ^ yet he that dares not be l^o weak as to be particular, will be often obliged to avoid the moft fubftantial duties of chrifti- an piety.
Thefe refleftions will, I hope, help you to break through thole difficulties, and refill thofe temptations, which the authority and fafhion of the world hath rais'd agai^ft the pradice of chrijiian humility.
CHAP. XVIIL
Shewing how the education which met% ge^ nerally receive in their youth ^ makes the do3rines of humility difficult to be praSlis'd. The fpirit of a better education y reprefented in the character of Paternus.
ANother difficulty in the praftice of hu- mility, arifes from our education. We are all of us , for the moft part corruptly educated, and then committed to take our courfe in a corrupt world j fo that it is no
Y 3 won-
5^6 A Serious Call
wonder, if examples of great piety are fo fel- dom feen.
Great part of the world are undone, by be- ing born and bred in families that have no Re- ligion ; where they are made vicious and irre- gular, by being like thofe with whom they iirft liv'd.
But this is not the thing I now mean ; the education that I here intend, is fuch as chil- dren generally receive from virtuous and fobqr fcirents^ and learned tutors and governors.
Had we continued perfect, as God created the firft man, perhaps the perfedion of our nature had been a fufficient felf-lnftruBion for every one. But as Jicknefs and d'tfeajes have created the neceffity ofmcdk/nes and phyjichms^ 1^0 the change and di (order of our rational na- ture, has introduced the neceffity of education and tuton,
And.as the only end of the phyfician is, to reftore nature to its own ftate, lb the only end of education is, to reftore our rational nature to its proper ftate. Education therefore is to be eonlider'd as reafon borrowed 2Xjecond handy which is, as far as it can, to fupply the lofs of original perfeftion. And as phyfick may juft-^ ly be caird the art of reftoring health, lb edu- cation Ihculd be conddcr'd in no other light, than as the art of recovering to man the ufe of his reafon.
Now as the inftruftion of every art or fci" ence is founded upon the difcoveries^ the w'tj-^ iovd^ t^perunce and raaxims of the feveral
great
to a T)e
great men that have laboured in it ; fo that hu- man wjfdomy or right 11 fe of our reafon, which young people fliould be calFd to by their edu- cation, is nothing elle but the heji experience^ and finejl reafomngs of men, that have devo- ted themfelves to the ftudy of wifdoni, and the improvement of human nature.
All therefore that great faints^ and dyhig men, when the fulleft of light and convidion, and after the highcft improvement of their reafon, all that they have laid of the neceffity of piety J of the excellency of virtue^ of their duty to God, of the emptinefs of riches, of the vanity of the world -^ all the JcntenceSy judgments^ reafomngs^ and maxims of the wi- feft of philofophers, when in their higheft ftate of wifdom, fhould conftitute the common lejjons of inftrudion for youthful minds.
This is the only way to make the young ^ and ignorant part of the world, the better for the wifdom and knowledge of the wife and ancient.
An education which is not wholly intent upon this, is as much befide the point, as an art of Vhyfcky that had little or no regard to the reftoration of health.
The youths that attended upon ^ythagorasy Socrates^ ^lato^ and EpiBetiu^ w^ere thus edu- cated. Their every day leffons and inftrufti- ons were fo many lectures upon the nature of man, his true end^ and the right ule of his faculties; upon the immortahty of the foul, its relation to God, the beauty of virtue, and
y 4 its
328
A Serious Call
its agreablenefs to the divine nature ; upon the dignity of rcafon, the ncceffity of tempe- rance, fortitude and generofity, and the ftiame and folly of indulging our paflions.
Now as Chriftianity has, as it were, new created the moral and religions world, and fet every thing that is reafonable, wife, holy and defirable, in its true point of light ; fo one would expeft, that the education of youth fliould be as much bettered and amended by Chriftianity, as the faith and doBrines of Reli- gion arc amended by it.
As it has introduced fuch a new Jlate of things, and lb fully informed us of the nature of man, the ends of his creation, the Hate of his condition ^ as it has fix'd all our goods and evils^ taught us the means of purifying our fouls, pleafing God, and becoming eter- nally happy ; one might naturally luppofe, that every Chriftian Country abounded with jihools for the teaching, not only a few queftions and anfwcrs of a Catcchijm^ but for the forming, training and practifing youths in fuch an out- ward courfe of life, as the higheji precepts, the firiBefi rules, and the fuhlimeji dodrines of Chriftianity require.
An education under '^ythagoras^ or Socrates^ had no other end, but to teach youth to thinkj judge^ aBj and follow liich rziles of life, as (Pythagoras and Socrates us'd.
And is it not as realbnabk :o fuppofe, that a Chriftian education Ihc v^lu have no other end, but to teach youtn how to think, and
judge.
to a De'voHt and Holy Life. 529
judge, and aft, and live according to the fritieji laws of Chriftianity ?
At leaft one would luppofe, that in all chriftian fchools, the teaching youth to begin their lives in theyji;^//^ of Chriftianity, in fuch feverity of behaviour, inch ahfVinence^ fohr'tety^ htmultty and devotion^ as Chriftianity requires, Ihould not only be 7nore^ but an hundred times more regarded, than any, or all things elfe.
For our education ftiould imitate our guar-- dtan angels^ fuggeft nothing to our minds but what is wife and holy \ help us to dilcover and fubdue every vain fajjion of our hearts, and itytvj falfe judgment of our minds.
And it is 7i%Joher and reajbnable to exped and require all this benefit of a chriftian edu- cation, as to require that phyfick fliould Itrengthen all that is right in our nature, and remove that which isjickly and dlfeasd.
But alas, our modern education is not of this kind.
Th^JirJi temper that we try to awaken in children, is frlde ; as dangerous a paftion as that oi luji. We ftir them up to vain thoughts of themlelves, and do every thing we can, to puff up their minds with a fenfe of their own abilities.
Whatever way of life we intend them for, we apply to Xh^Jire and vanity of their minds, and exhort them to every thing from corrupt motives: We ftir them up to aftion from principles of Jirlfe and ajnhltlon^ from glory ^ envyy and a defire of diftinftion, that they
may
5 50 A Serious Call
may excel others, and fhine in the eyes of the
world.
We repeat and inculcate thefe motives up- on them, till they think it a part of their duty to be protid^ envious^ and vain-glormis of their own accomplifliments.
And when we have taught them to fcorn to be outdone by any, to bear no rival^ to thirft after every tnjlance of applaufe, to be content with nothing but the higheft diftin- dions; then we begin to take comfort in them, and promife the world fome mighty things from youths of fuch a glorious fpirit.
If children arc intended for holy orders^ we fet before them fome eminent orator^ whofe ■fine preaching has made him the admratwn of the age, and carry'd him through all the dig-- nlt'tes and preferments of the Church.
We encourage them to have thefe honours in their eye, and to exped the reward of their Itudies from them.
If the youth is intended for a trade \ we bid him look at all the rich men of xh^fame trade J and confider how many now are carry'd about in thtxx Jiately coaches^ who began in the fame low degree as he now does. We awaken his ambition, and endeavour to give his mhid a right turn^ by often telling him how very rich fach and fuch a tradefman dy'd.
If he is to be a lawyer^ then we fet great CounfeUorSj I.01 As Judges^ znd Chancellors^ be- fore his eyes. We tell him what great jees^ and great apphiufe attend fine pleading. We
exhort
to a DeTJout and Holy Life. 3 3 1
exhort him to take fire at thcfe things, to raife a fpirit of emulation in himfelf, and to be content with nothing lefs than the higheft honours of the k/ig Robe.
That this is the nature of our bep ediicatlony is too plain to need any proof; and I believe there are few parents, but would be glad to fee thefc inftruftions daily given to their chil- dren.
And after all this, we complain of the el- fefts of pride; we w^onder to lee grown men afted and governed by ambition^ envy^ fi^^^h and a dejire of glory; not confidering that they were all the time of their youth calM upon to all their adion anctinduftry upon the fame principles.
You teach a child to fcorn to be outdone, to thirft for difiin^lon and applaiife ; and is it any wonder that he continues to ad all his life in the fame manner ?
Now if a youth is ever to be fo far a Chri- ftian, as to govern his heart by the doctrines of humility, I would fain know at what time he is to begin it; or if he is ever to begin it at all, why we train him up in tempers quite contrary to it ?
How dry and poor muft the dodrine of hu- mility found to a youth, that has been fpurr*d up to all his induftry by ambition^ envy^ cmn^ lation^ and a defire of glory and diftintiion ? And if he is not to ad by thefe principles when he is a man^ why do we call him to ad ^y them in his youth ?
Envy
33^ -^ Serious Call
Envy is acknowledged by all people to be the mOil tmgefierous^ bafe and wicked paffion, that can enter into the heart of man.
And is this a temper to be inftiird, nou- rifh'd and eftablifh'd in the minds of young people ?
I know it is faid, that it is not envy^ but emulation^ that is intended to be awakened in the minds of young men.
But this is vainly faid. For when children are taught to bear no rival ^ and to /corn to be outdone by any of their age, they are plainly and dircftly taught to be envious. For it is impoffible for anyone to have th\s f corn of being outdone, and this contention with r/-? valsj without burning with envy againft all thofe that feem to excel him, or get any di- ftindion from him. So that what children are taught, is rank envy^ and only covered with a name of a lefs odious found.
Secondly^ If envy is thus confelTedly bad, and it be only emulation that is endeavour'd to be awakened in children, furely there ought to be great care taken, that children may know the one from the other. That they may abo- minate the one as a great crime^ whilft they give the other admiffion into their minds.
But if this were to be attempted, the fine- r.efs of the diftindlon betwixt envy and emu- lation, would fhew that it was eafier to di- vide them in words, than to feparate them in adion.
For
to a Vez'OHt and Holy Life. 555
For emulation y when it is defined in its bell manner, is nothing elie but a refinement upon envy, or rather the moft plaiijible fart of that black and venomous paffion.
And though it is eafy to feparate them in the notion^ yet the moft acute ^hilojophery that underftands the art of diftinguijhing ever fo well, if he gives himfelf up to emulat'iony will certainly find himfelf deep in efivy.
For eyivy is not an original temper, but the natural, neceflary, and unavoidable efFed of emulation, or a defire of glory.
So that he who eftablifhes the one in the minds of people, neceflarily fixes the other there. And there is no other poffible way of deftroying envy, but by deftroying emulation, or a defire of glory. For the one always rifes and falls in proportion to the other.
I know it is faid in defenfe of this method of education, that ambition, and a defire of glory, are neceflfary to excite young people to induftry ^ and that if we were to prcis upon them the dodlrines of humility, w^e fliould dc- jed their minds, and fink them into didnefs and idlenejs.
But thefe people who fay this, don't confi- der, that this reafon, if it has any ftrcngth, is full as ftrong againft prefling tlie dodrines of humility upon grown men , left we fliould dejed their minds, and fink them into dulnels and idlcnels.
For who does not fee, that tniddJe-aged men
-vvant as much the afl[iftance of pride, ambi-
* tioa
554 A Serious Call
tlon, and vain-glory, to fpur them up to action and induftry, as children do ? And it is very certain, that the precepts of humility are more contrary to the defigns of fuch men, and more grievous to their minds, when they are prefled upon them, than they are to the minds of young perfons.
This realbn therefore that is given, why chrildren Ihould not be train'd up in the prin- ciples of true humility, is as good a realbn why the fame humility fhould never be re- quired of grown men.
'Thirdly y Let thofe people, who think that children would be fpoiFd, if they were not thus educated, confider this.
Could they think, that if any children had been educated by our bleffed Lord, or his ho- ly Apoftles, that their minds would have been funk into clulnefs and idlenefs ?
Or could they think, that fach children would not have been trained up in the pro- foundeft principles of a ftrid and true humi- hty ? Can they fay that our bleffed Lord, who w^as the meckcft and humbleft man that ever was on earth, w^as hindered by his humility from being the greateft example of worthy and glorious aftions, that ever were done by man ?
Can they fay that his Apoftles, who liv'd in the humble fpirit of their mafter, did there- fore ceafe to be laborious and adive inftru- ments of doing good to all the world ?
A few
to a T)evoHt and Holy 'Life, 355
A few fuch refleftions as thf Ic, are fuffici- ent to expole all the poor pretences for an edu- cation in pride and ambition.
^ at emus liv'd about two hundred years ago ; he had but one fon, whom he educated him- felf in his own houfe. As they were fit- ting together in the Garde?i^ when the child was ten years old , ^aternus thus began to him.
The little time that you have been in the world , my child , you have fpent wholly with me ; and my love and tendernefs to you, has made you look upon me as your only friend and benefaftor, and the caufe of all the comfort and plealure that you enjoy: Your heart, I know, would be ready to break with grief, if you thought this was the laft day that I Ihould live with you.
But, my child, tho' you now think your felf mighty happy, becaufe you have hold of my hand, you are now in the hands, and un- der the tender care of a much greater father and friend than I am, w^hofe love to you is far greater than mine, and from whom you receive fuch bleffings as no mortal can give.
That God whom you have feen me daily worftiip, wliom I daily call upon to blefs both you and me, and all mankind, w^hofe won- drous afts are recorded in thofc Scriptures which you conftantly read. That God who created the heavens and the earth , who brought a flood upon the old world, who fav'd Noah in the Afk, who wa5 the God of Jbra^
hiWh
53^
A Serious Call
hanij Ifaac and Jacob^ whom Job blefled and prais'd in thegreateft affliftions, who delivered the Ifraelltes out of the hands of the Egypti^ ansy who was the proteftor of righteous Jojephy MoJeSy yofhuaj and holy Daniel^ who fent fo many Prophets into the world, who fent his Son Jefus Chrift to redeem mankind; this God who has done all theie great things, who has created fo many millions of men, who liv'd and died before you was born, with whom the fpirits of good men that are depar- ted this life, now live, whom infinite num- bers of Angels now worlhip in Heaven ; this great God who is the creator of worlds, of angels, and men, is your loving father and friend, your good creator and nouriflier, from whom and not from me, you received your being ten years ago, at the time that I plant- ed that little tender Elm which you there fee.
I my felf am not half the age of this
Jhady Oaky under which we fit ; many of our
fathers have fat under its boughs, we have all
of us caird it. ours in our turn, tho* it Hands,
and drops its 7nafierSy as it drops its leaves.
You fee, my Ion, this wide and large F/r- mament over our heads, where the Sun and Mooriy and all the Stars appear in their turns. If you was to be carried up to any of theie bodies at this vaft difl:ance from us, you would Hill difcover others, as much above you, as the Stars that you fee here are above the Earth. Were you to go up or down, Eafi or
^Weji,
to a Devout afid Holy Life. 53^
tVtfij North or Sauth^ you would find the fame height without any top^ and the lame depth without any bottom.
And yet my child, fo great is God, that all thefe bodies added together, are but as a grain of land in his fight. And yet you are as much the care of this great God and Father of all worlds and all: ffirlts^ as if he had no fon but you, or there wxre no creature for hitrl to love and proteft but you alone. He num- bers the hairs of your head ^ watches over you fleeping and waking, and has preferv'd you from a thouland dangers, which neither you, nor T know any thing of.
How poor my power is, and how little I am able to do for you, you have often ^ttn^. Your hx^jtchnefs has ftiewn you how little I could do for you in that ftate; and the fi*e-« quent pains of your head are plain proofs, that I have no power to remove them;
i can bring youy^Wand medicines ^ but have! no power to turn them into your relief and nourifllment ^ it is God alone that can do this for you*
Therefore, rny child, fear, and wOrfhip^ and love God- Your eyes indeed cannot yet fee him, but every thing you fee, are fo ma-* ny marks of his power and prefence, and he IS nearer to you, than any thing that you cart fee.
Take him for your Lord., and Father., and Friend^ look up unto him as the fountain and caufe of all the good that you haye teceiv'd
Zj through
333
A Serious Call
through my hands, and reverence me only as the hearer and mintjier of God's good things unto vou. And he that blefled my father before I was born^ will blcfs you when I am dead.
Your youth and little mind is only yet ac- quainted with my fiimily, and therefore you think there is no happinefs out of it.
But, my childj you belong to a greater Fa- mily than mine, you are a young member of the family of this Almighty Father of all Na- tions, who has created infinite orders of An- gels, and numberlefs generations of men, to be fellow-members of one and the lame focicty in HeaA^en.
You do well to reverence and obey my authority, becaufe God has given me power over you, to bring you up in his fear^ and to do for you, as the holy fathers recorded in Scripture did for their children, who are now in reft and peace with God.
I fhall in a ftiorttime die, and leave you to God, and your felf, and if God forgivcth my fins, lihall go to his Son Jefus Chrift, and live amongft Patriarchs and Prophets, Saints and Martyrs, where I fliall pray for you, and liope for your fafe arrival at the fame place.
Therefore, my child, meditate on thefe great and noble by ib meditating upon them.
Let your thoughts often leave thefe ^^r^ t\\Q\QfeJds and farras^ to contemplate upon God and Heayen; to confider upon Angels^
and
U) a 7)evoHt and Holy Life. 5 op
and the fpirits of good men living in light .and glory.
As you have been us'd to look to me in all your adions, and have been afraid to do any thing, unlcfs you lirll knew my will; lb let it now be a rule of your life, to look up to God in all your adions, to do every thing in his fear, and to abftain from every thing that is not according to liis will.
Bear him always in your mind, teach your thoughts to reverence him in every place, for there is no place where he is not.
God keepeth a book of life, wherein all the adions of all men are written ; your name is there, my child, and when you die, this book will be laid open before men and angels, and ac- cording as your adions are there found, you will either be received to the happinefs of thofe holy men who have died before you, or be turn'd away amongft wicked Ipirits, that are never to fee God any more.
Never forget this book, my fon, for it is written, it mutt be open'd, you muft fee it, and you muft be try'd by it. Strive therefore to fill it with your good deeds, that the hand- writing of God may not appear againft you.
God, my child, iS2i\\love^ Tiwdzvifdom^ and goodnefs ; and every thing that he has made, and every adion that he does, is the cfFed of them all. Therefore you cannot pleafe God, but fo fir as you ftrive to walk in love, wil- dom and goodnefs. As all wifdom, love and Z 2. goodnefs
540 A Serious C a L t
goodnefs proceeds from God, fo nothing but love, wifdom, and goodnefs can lead to God.
When you love that which God loves, you aft with him, youjoynyour felf to him; and when you love what he diflikes, then you op- pofe him, and feparate your felf from him. This is the true and the right way ; think what God loves, and do you love it with all your heart.
Firft of all, my child, worfliip and adore God, think of him magnificently, fpeak of him reverently, magnify his providence, adore his power, frequent his fervice, and pray unto him frequently and conftantly.
Next to this, love your neighbour, which is all mankind, with fuch tendernefs and affe- ftion, as you love your felf. Think how God loves all mankind, how merciful he is to them, how tender he is of them, how carefully he preferves them, and then ftrive to love the world, as God loves it.
God would have all men to be happy, therefore do you willy and defire the fame. All men are great inftances of divine love, therefore let all men be inftances of your love.
But above all, my Ion, mark this, never do any thing through ftrife, or envy, or emula- tion, or vain-glory. Never do any thing in order to excell other people, but in order to pleafe God, and becaufe it is his will, that you ftiould do every thing in the beft man- ner that you can.
For
to a Devout and Holy Life. 541
For if it is once a pleaflire to you to cxccll other people, it will by degrees be a pleafurc to you, to lee other people not ib good as your felf.
Banirti therefore every thought o^ felf-prtde zndfelf'difitn^'wn^ and accuftom your felf to rejoice in all the excellencies and perfeftions of your fellow-creatures, and be as glad to fee any of their good adions, as your own.
For as God is as well pleas'd with their well doings, as with yours, 16 you ought to defire, that every thing that is wife, and holy, and good, may be performed in as high a manner by other people, as by your felf.
Let this therefore be your only motive and fpur to all good actions, honett induftry, and bufinefs, to do every thing in as perfed and excellent a manner as you can, for this only reafon, becaufe it is pleafing to God, who de- fiics your perfedion, and writes all youradions in a book. When I am dead, my Ion, you will be mafterof all my ellate, which will be a great deal more, than the neceflities of one flimily require. Therefore as you are to be charitable to the fouls of men, and v/ifh them the fame happinefs with you in heaven, ih be charitable to their bodies, and endeavour to make them as happy as you upon earth.
As God has created all things for the com- mon good of all men, lb let that part of them which is fallen to your fliare, be employed as God vvculd have all cmploy'd^ for the com-*- mon good of all.
Z 3 Dt
54 2 A Serious Call
Do good, my fon, firft of all to thofe that moft delerve it, but remember to do good to all. The grcateft finners receive daily inftan- ces of God's goodnels towards them, he nou- riihes and preferves them, that they may repent, and return to him ; do you therefore imitate God, and think no one too bad to receive your relief and kindnefs, when you lee that he wants it.
I am teaching you Lcrtm and Greek^ not that you Ihould defire to be a great Critkk^ a fine ^oct^ or an eloquent Orator ; I would not have your heart feel any of thcle ciefires, for the defire of thefe accomplifliments, is a vanity of the mind, and the maftcrs of them are generally vain men. For the defire of any thing that is not a real good, leflens the appli- cation of the mind after that which is fo.
But I teach you theie languages, that at proper times you may look into the hiftory of palt ages, and learn the methods of God's providence over the world. That reading the writings of the anticnt Sjges^ you may fee how wifdom and virtue have been the praifes of great men of all ages, and fortify your mind by their wile fayings.
Let truth and plainnels therefore be the only ornament of your language, and fl:udy nothing but how to think of all things as they deferve, to chule every thing that is belt, to live according to reafon and order, and to ad in every part of your life in conformity to the will of God.
Study
\ td a TkzfOiit and Holy Life. 543
Study how to fill your heart full of the love of God, and the love of your neighbour, and then be content to be no deeper alcholar^ no finer a gentleman, than thefe tempers \vill make you. As true Rchgion is nothing clfe'but fimple Nature governed by right rea- Ibn, ib it loves and requires great plainnels and fimphcity of life. Therefore avoid all fuperfluous fhews of finery and equipage, and let your houfe be plainly furnifli'd with mo- derate convenienciei>. Don't confider what your eftate can afford, but what right realbn requires.
Let your drejs be tbber, clean, and modeft, not to let out the beauty of your perfon, but to declare the fobriety of your mind, that your outward garb may refemble the inward plainnefs and fimplicity of your heart. For it is highly realbnable, that you fhould be one rnau^ all of a piece, and appear outwardly fuch as you are inwardly.
As to your ?7ieat^nd drlnh^ in themoblerve the h'tghejl rules of Chriftian temperance and Ibbriety \ confider your body only as the fer- vant and minifter of your Ibul ; and only fo nourifli it, as it may beft perform an humble and obedient iervice to it.
But, my fon, obferve this as a moll princi- pal thing, which I fhall remember you of, as long as 1 live with you.
Hate and defpile all human glory ^ for it is aothing clfc but human folly. It is the grca-
Z 4 teli
544 ^ Serious C al t
toft fnare^ and the grcatcft betrayer that you can poffibly admit into your heart.
Love hvimility in all its inftanccs, praftife it in all its parts,, for it is the nobleft ftate of the foul of man; it will fet your heart and affedions right towards God, and fill you with every temper that is tender and affcdionate towards men.
Let every day therefore be a day of humi- lity, condefcend to all the weaknels, and in^ firmities of your fellow creatures, cover their frailties, love their excellencies , encourage their virtues, relieve their wants, rejoice in their profperities, compaffionate their diftrefs, Teceive their friendihip, overlook their un-^ kindnefs, forgive their malice, be a fervant of fervants, and condelcend to do the loweft offices to the loweft of mankind,
Alpirc after nothing but your ow^n purity and perfection, and have no ambition but to do every thing in fo reafonable and religious a manner, that you may be glad that God is every where prefent, and fees and obferves all your adions. The greateft trial of humility, is an humble behaviour towards your equals in age^ ejiate^ and condition of life. Therefore be careful of all the motions of your heart towards thefe people. Let all your behaviour towards them be govern'd by unfeigned love. Have no defire to put any of your equals be- low you, nor any anger at thole that would put thcmfelves above you. If they are proud, |hey arc ill of a v^ry bad diftemper, let therri
therefor©
to a Vcvout and Holy Life. 34.15
therefore have your tender pity, and perhaps your meekncls may prove an occafion of their cure. But if your humility fhould do them no good, it will however be the greateft good that you can do to your ielf.
Remember that there is but one man in the world, with whom you are to have perpetual contention, and be always ftriving to exceed him, and that is your felf.
The time of practifmg thefe precepts, my child, will loon be over with you, the world will loon flip through your hands, or rather you will foon flip through it ; it feems but the other day fince I received thele fame inftrucli- ons from my dear Father, that I am now lea- ving with you. And the God that gave mc cars to hear, and a heart to receive what my Father faid unto me, will, I hope, give you grace to love and follow the lame inftruftions. Thus did ^'Patermu educate his Ion. Can any one now think that luch an educa-^ tion as this, would weaken and dejcft the minds of young people, and deprive the world of any worthy and reafonable labours? It is fo far from that, that there is nothing fo likely to enoble, and exalt the mind, and prepare it for the moft heroical exercife of i^ll virtues.
For who will fay, that a love of God, a defirc of plcafing him, a love of our neigh- bour, a love of truth, of reafon, and virtue, ^ contemplation of eternity, and the rewards pf piety, are not ftrongcr motives to great
an4
34^
J Serious Call
and good aftions, than a little uncertain popii'- lar praile.
On the other hand, there is nothing in rea- lity that more weakens the mind, and reduces it to meannefs and flavery, nothing that makes it lefs mafter of its own actions, or Ids capable of following realbn, than a love of praife and honour.
For as praife and honour arc often given to things and perfons^ where they are not due, as that is generally moft prais'd and honour'd^ that moft gratifies th^ humours^ fafii on Sj and vicious tempers of the world : fo he that acts upon the defire of praife and applaufe, muft part with every other principle ; he muft fay hlach is whlte^ put bitter ioxjweet^ and Jwect for hitter J and do the meaneft, bafeft things, in order to be applauded.
For in a corrupt world, as this is, worthy actions are only to be fupported by their own worth, where inftead of being prais'd and ho- noured, they are moft often reproached, and perfecuted.
So that to educate children upon a motive of emulation J or a defire of glory ^ in a world where glory it llif isfalje^ and moft common- ly given wrofig^ is to tieftroy the natural inte- grity and fortitude of their minds, and give them a hhifs which will oftner carry them to bals and mean, than great and worthy actions*
CHAR
to a Vczfout and Holy Life. ^47
CHAP. XIX
Shewing how the method of educatDig daughters, raakes it difficult for them to enter into the
Jpirit of Chrifian hamtUty, How rniferahly they areinjiirW andahasW hy fiich an educa^ tion. The fprit of a better education re^re^
Jented in the charaBer of Eufebia.
THAT turn of mind which is taught and encouraged in the education of daughters^ makes it exceeding difficult for them to enter into fuch a fenfe and praftice of humility, as the fpirit of Chriftianity requi- reth.
The right education of this fex is of the utmoft importance to human life. There is nothing that is more defirable for the common good of all the world. For though women don't carry on the trade and bufnej's of the world, yet as they are mothers^ and mifirejps of families, that have for ibme time the care of the education of their children of both forts, they are entrufted w^ith that which is of the grcatcft confcquence to human life. For this reafon, good or bad women are likely to do as much good or harm in the world, as good or bad men in the greateft bufinels of life.
For as the health and ftrength^ or zveaknef of our bodies^ is very much owing to their
methods
348
A Serious Call
methods of treating us when we were young ; fo Xh^foundnefs or folly of our minds are not lefs owing to thoCc Jirjl te?7ipers and ways of thinking, which we eagerly received from the love^ tendernefs^ authority^ and conftant con-^ verfaUon of our mothers.
As we call our firft language our mother- tongue^ fo we may as juftly call our firft tem- pers our mother-tempers ; and perhaps it may be found more eafy to forget the lajtguage^ than to part entirely with thofe tempers w^hich we karnt in the ?iurfery.
It is therefore much to be lamented, that this fex\ on whom fo much depends, who have the firft forming both of our bodies and our minds^ are not only educated m pride j but in the filTteft and moft contemptible part of it.
They are not indeed fuffer'd to difpute with us the proud prizes of arts and fclences^ of Jearnhig and eloquence^ in which I have much fiifpicion they would often prove our fuperi- ors 5 but we turn them over to the ftudy of heaiity and drefs^ and the whole w^orld con- fpires to make them think of nothing elfe. fathers and mothers^ friends and relations ^ feem to have no other wifh towards the little glrly but that fhe may have ?ifdlr skln^ -^fnefJoape^ drefs weU,, and dance to admiration.
Now if a fondnefs for our perfons^ a defire of beauty^ a love of drefs^ be a part of pride (as furcly it is a moft contemptible part of it) the firft ftep towards a woman's htimillty^ feems to require a repentance of her education*
For
to a Ve^oHt and Holy Life. 54^
For it muft be own'd that, generally fpcak- ing, good parents are never more fond of their daughters, than when they lee them too foud of themfelves, and drejsd in fuch a manner, as is a great reproach to the gravity and ib- briety of the Chriftian life.
And what makes this matter ftill more to be lamented, is this, That women are not only Ipoird by this education, but we Ipoii that part of the world, which would other- wife furnilh moji hijiances of an eminent and exalted piety.
For I believe it may be affirmed, that for the moft part there is ^fner fenfe^ a clearer 7nind^ a readier apprehenjion^ and gentler difpo^ Jitions in thatyj;\r, than in the other.
All which tempers, if they were truly im- proved by proper ftudies, and yS^^r methods of education, would in all probability carry them to greater heights of piety, than are to be found amongft the generahty of men.
For this reafon I fpeak to this matter w^ith fo much openneis and plainnels, becaufe it is much to be lamented, that perlbns fo natiiraU ly qualiiied to be great examples of pu-ty^ fhould by an erroneous education, be made poor ?nd gaudy fpedacies of the greateft va- nity.
The Church has formerly had eminent faints in that fex ; and it may reaibnably be thought, that it is purely owing to their poor and vai72' education, that this honour of their lex is for the moJi part conlin'd to former ages.
The
5^o yi Serious C A L L
The corruption of the world indulges them in great vanity, and mankind iecm to confi- dcr them in no other view, than as lb many fahited tdols^ that are to allure and gratify their pallions; fo that if many women are vain^ light ^ giigaw creatures, they have this to ex- cufe themfelves, that they are not only fuch as theit education has made them, but llich as the^^;;^r^//^K of the world allczvs them to be.
But then they fhould confider, that the friends to their vanity are no friends of theirs ; they fhould confider, that they are to live for theinfelvesy that they have as great a fhare in the rational nature as men have ; that they have as much reafon to pretend, and as much necejfity to afpire after the highefl acconifViJlj'^ ments of a Chriftian and folid virtue, as the graveft and i^iffi amongft Chriftian ^kilojb^ fhers.
They fhould confider, that they are ahtis'd
and injtir'dj and hetray d from their only per-
feB'ion^ whenever they are taught, that any
thine is an ornament in them, that is not an
ornament in the wifefl amongft mankind.
It is generally laid, that women are natural- ly of little and vain minds ; but this I look upon to be ?LsfalJe and iinreafonahle^ as to lay, that hatchers are naturally cruel '^ for as their cruelty is not owing to their nature^ but to their way of life, which has changed their na- ture ; lb whatever littlenefs and vanity is to be oblerved in the minds of women, it is like the cruelty of butchers^ a temper that is
wrought
to a Ve^out and Holy Life. 351
wrought into them by that life which they are taught and accn flamed to lead.
At leaft thus much muft be laid, that wc cannot charge any thing upon their nature^ till we take care that it is not perverted by their education.
And on the other hand, if it were true, that they were thus naturally vain and light, then how much more bJameable is that edu- cation, which ieems contrived to fircngthen and hicreafe this folly and weakneis of their minds?
For if It were a virtue in a woman to be proud and vain in herfelf, we could hardly take better means to raife this pailion in her, ' than thofe that are now ufed in their educa- tion.
Matilda is a fine woman, of good breedings ^i^'2Xjenfe^ and much religion. She has three daughters that are educated by herfelf. She will not truft them with any one elle, or at ^v\y fshool^ for fear they fhould learn any thing ill. She ftays with the Dancing-mafler all the time he is with them, bccaule fhe will hear every thing that is faid to them. She has heard them read the Scriptures lb often, that they can repeat great part of it without book : And there is fcarce a good book of devot'ioUy but you may find it in their clofets.
Had Matilda liv'd in the firft ages of Chri- ftianity, when it was praftisYi in the jnlnejs and plainnefs of its doftrincs, Ihe had in all probability been one of its greatcft faints.
But
35^ A Smous Call
But as fhe was born in corrupt times, \\\\txt Ihe wants examples of Chriftian pcrfeftionj and hardly ever law a piety higher than her own ; lb Ihe has many defers, and communi- cates them all to her daughters.
Matilda never was meanly drefs*d in her life ; and nothing pleafes her in drefs^ but that which is very rlchj and heaiitijul to the eye.
Her daughters fee her great zeal for Religi- on, but then they fee an equal carneftnefs for all forts oi fnery. They fee Ihe is not negli- gent of her devotlouy but then they fee her more careful to prefervc her complexion^ and to prevent thofe changes, which time and age threaten her with.
They are. afraid to meet her, if they have mifs'd the Church :^ but then they are more afraid to fee her, if they are not lac\i as Jlraight as they can poilibly be.
She often Ihews them her ownpl^urej which was taken when their father fell in love with her. She tells them, how dlfiratied he was with paflion at \\iz fir ft fight of her, and that file had never had 16 fine a complexion^ but for the diligence of her good mother, who took exceeding care of it.
Matilda is fo intent upon all the arts of im- proving their drefis^ that Ihe has fome new fancy almoft every day, and leaves no orna- ment untry'd, from the richeft jewel to the pooreft jf^z£;^/\ She is fo nice and critical in her judgment, fo lenfible of the fmallelt error, that the maid is often forced to drefs and un- a dreft
to a "Devout and Holy Life, 355
drefs her daughters three or four times in a day, before fhe can be fatisfy'd with it.
As to the patchings ftie referves that to her felf ; for, Ihe iays, if they are not ftuck on with judgment, they are rather a prejudice, than an advantage to they^:?r^.
The children fee lb plainly the temper of their mother, that they even affcd to be 77iore pleased with drefs , and to be more fond of every little ornament, than they really are, merely to gain her favour.
They law their eldeft filler once brought to her tears^ and hex perverfenefslL^y^xcly reprimand- ed, for prefuming to fay, that Ihe thought it was better to cover the necky than to go lo far naked as the modern drefs requires.
She flints them in their meals^ and is very fcrupulous of what they eat and drink, and tells them how many fne Jljapes Ihe has feen fpoil'd in her time for want of fuch care. If 2i pimple riles in their faces, Ihe is in a great fright, and they themfelves are as afraid to fee her with it, as if they had committed fome great fin.
Whenever they begin to look too fanguine and healthful^ ihe calls in the affiftance of the do&or \ and if phyfick^ or tffuesy will keep the complexion from inclining to coarfe or ruddy ^ Ihe thinks them w^ell imploy'd.
By this means they are poor^ pale^ f^^^fy infirm creatures, vapour' d through want of fpirits, crying at the fmalleft accidents, Jwoon^ ing ^v{^Y at any thing that frights them, and
A a hardly
5^4 ^ Serious C A L t
hardly able to bear the weight of their beft cloaths.
The eldcft daughter Hv'd as long as flie could under this dilcipline, and dy'd in the twentieth year of her age.
When her body was open'd, it appeared that her ribs had grown into her Uvery and that her other entrails were much hurt, by being crufifd together with her flays^ which her mother had ordered to be twitch'd to ftrait, that it often brought tears into her eyes, whilft the maid was dreffing her.
Her youngeft daughter is run away with Tigamefier^ a man of great beauty, who in dreffing and dancing has no fuperior.
^Matilda fays, flie ftiould die with grief at this accident ; but that her confcience tells her, fhe has contributed nothing to it her felf. She appeals to their clofcts^ to their books of devotion, to teftify what care ihe has taken to eftabliih her children in a life of folid piety and devotion.
Now though I don't intend to fay, that no daughters are brought up in a better way than this, for I hope there are many that are ; yet thus much I believe may be faid, that the much greater part of them, are not brought up fo well, or accuftomed to fo much Religi- on, as in the prefent inftance.
Their minds are turn'd as much to the care of their beauty and drefs, and the indulgence of vain defires, as in the prefent cafe, with- out having fuch rules of devotion to ftand ^ • againft
to a Devout and Holy Life. 555
againft it. So that if foUd piety, humility^ and cxfoherjenfe of thcmfelvcs, is much want- ed in that fex, it is the plain and natural confequence of a vain and corrupt educa- tion.
And if they are often too ready to receive the firft jops , heiuixs^ and fine dancers^ for their husbands; 'tis no wonder they fhouldh'kc that in men, which they have been taught to admire in themfelves.
And if they are often i^^n to lofe that lit- tle Religion they w^ere taught in their youth, ^tis no more to be wonder'd at, than to lee a Ttttle jiower choak'd and killed amongft rank weeds.
YoT perfonal ]^ndQ^ ^and affeBation^ a dellghp in beauty, and JGndnefs of finery, are tempers that mult either kill all Religion in the foul, or be themjelves kill'd by it ; they can no more thrive together, than health and Jtck* nefs.
Some people that judge haftily, will per- haps here fay, that I am exercifing too great a Icverity againft the lex.
But more realonable peribns Vv'ill eafily ob- ferve, that I entirely Ipare the fcx^ and only arraign their education • that I not only Iparc them, but plead their intereft j affcrt their honour^ fet forth their ferfeWions^ commend their natural tempers, and only condemn that education^ which is )^o injurious to their intc-» refts, fo debafes their honour, and deprives
A a 2 them
515^ A Serious C A L L
them of the benefit of their excellent natures and tempers.
Their education ^ I profefs, I cannot fpare ; but tlie only realbn is , becaufe it is their great eft enemy ^ becaufe it deprives the world of fo many blejfings^ and the Church of lb many faints^ as might rcafonably be expected from perlbns, fo formed by their natural tem- pers to all goodnefs and tendernefs , and io fitted by the clearnefs and brightnefs of their minds, to contemplate, love and admire every thing that is holy, virtuous and di- vine.
If it fhould here be faid, that I even charge too high upon their education^ and that they are not fo miicb hurt by it, as I ima-
gine
It may be anfwer'd, that though I don't pretend to ftate the exaB degree of milchief that is done by it, yet its plain and natural tendency to do harm, is fufiicient to juftify the molt ahjblute condemnation of it.
But if any one would know, how generally women are hurt by this education ; if he ima- gines there may be no peribnal pride, or vain fondnefs of themfelves, in thofe that are fatch'd and drefsd out with fo much glitter of art and ornament :
Let him only make the following experi- ment where-ever he pleafes.
Let him only acquaint any fuch woman with his opinion of her: I don't mean that he fhould tell her to her face, or do it in any
jcude
to a Dez'ont arid Holy Life. 557
rude publick manner; but let him contrive the moft clvily Jecret^ friendly way that he can think of, only to let her know his opini- on, that he thinks Ihe is neither h.uidjmnej nor drejjes wxll, nor becomes her finery ; and I dare fay he will find there are but very few jine drefsd women, that will like him never the worle for his bare ofin'iori^ though known to none but themfelves ; and that he will not be long without feeing the effeBs of her rc- icntment.
But if fuch an experiment would fliew him that there are but few luch women that could bear with his friendfiip^ after they knew he had fuch an opinion of them, furely it is time to complain of, and accufe that education ^ which lb generally corrupts their hearts.
For though it is hard to judge of the hearts of people, yet where they declare their re^ fentment ^ and tmeajinefs at any thing, there they pafs the judgment upon themfelves. If a woman can't forgive a man who thinks Ihe has no beauty^ nor any ornament from her drefs, there ftie infalltbly di (covers the flate of her own heart, and is condemned by her owUy and not another's judgment.
For we never are afigry at others, but when their opinions of us are contrary to that which we have of our felves.
A man that makes no pretences to fcholar- fliip, is never angry at thole that don't take him to be a fcholar : So if a woman had no cfmion of her own perfomnd drefs ^ Ihe would ^ Aa 3 never
5158 A Serious Call
never be angry at thole, ^vho are of the fame opnlon with her fclf.
So that the general bad effeds of this edu- cation are too much known, to admit of any reafonable doubt.
But how poffible it is to bring up daugh- ters in a more excellent way, let the following charafter declare.
Enfeblci is a pious wridow, wxll born, and well bred, and has a good eftate.for five daugh- ters, whom ftie brings up as one entrufted by God, to fit five Virgins for the kingdom of Heaven. Her family has the lame regulation as a religious houfe^ and all its orders tend to the fupport of a conftant regular devotion.
She, her daughters^ and her maids^ meet together at all the hours oj frayer in the day, and chant Pfalms, and other devotions, and fpend the reft of their time in luch good works , and innocent diverfions , as render them fit to return to their ^Pfalms and ^^rayers.
She loves them as her fpiritual children, and they reverence her as their fpiritual mo- ther, with an affeftion far above that of the fondeft friends.
She has divided part of her eftate amongft them, that everyone may be charitable out of their own ilock, and each of them take it in their turns to provide for the foor and Jick of the Pariih.
Eufebia brings them up to all kinds of la- bour that are proper for women, as fowhigy
to a Devout and Holy Life. g^p
kmttwg.y fpinn'wg^ and all other parts of hotife^ wtfery \ not for their amufanent ^ but that they may be ferviceable to themfelvcs and others, and be fav'd from thole temptations which attend an idle life.
She tells them, fhe had rather fee them re- duced to the neceffity of maintaining them- felvcs by their own work, than to have riches to excufe themlelves from labour. For though, fays fhe, you may be able to affift the poor without your labour, yet by your labour you will be able to ailiit them more.
If Etifehia has liv'd as free from fin as it is poflible for human nature, it is becaufe Ihc is always watching and guarding againft all in- jiances of pride. And if her virtues are ftron- ger and higher than other people's, 'tis becaufe they are all founded in a deep himility.
My children, fays fhe, when your father dy'd, I was much pity'd by my friends, as having all the care of a family, and the ma- nagement of an Gftate fallen upon me.
But my own grief was founded upon ano- ther principle ; I was griev'd to fee my lelf deprived of fo faithful a friend, and that fuch an eminent example of Chriftian virtues, Ihould be taken from the eyes of his children, before they were of an age to love and fol- low it.
But as to worldly cares, which my friends
thought fo heavy upon me, they are moft of
Aa 4 them
3^o
A Serious Call
them of our own making, and fall away as ibon as we know our J elves.
If a perfon in a dream is diftarb'd with ftrange appearances, his trouble is over as foon as he is awake^ and fees that it was the folly of a dream.
Now when a right knowledge of our felves enters into our minds, it makes as great a change in all our thoughts and apprehenfions, as when we awake from the wandrlngs of a dream.
We acknowledge a man to be mad^ or me- lancholy^ who fancies himfelf to be ghfs^ and ib is afraid of ftirring^ or taking himfelf to be waXy dare not let the Sun ftiine upon him.
But, my children, there are things in the world which pafs for wtjdom^ pVitenejs^ gran^ deufj happlnefsj ^nd^ne breeding j which Ihew as great ignorance of our felves, and might as juftly pals for thorough madnefsj as when a man fancies himlelf to be glajs^ or ice.
A woman that dares not appear in the world without Jine deaths^ that thinks it a happinefs to have a i'dQtJinely colour' d^ to have a skin delicately fair ^ that had rather die than be reduced to poverty, and be forc'd to work for a poor maintenance, is as ignorant of her felf to the full, as he that fancies himlelf to be^/^yi.
For this reafbn, all my dilcourfe with you, has been to acquaint you with your lelves, And to accuftom you to fuch books and devo- tions^
to a Devout and Holy Life. 3^1
tions, as may bell inftruft you in this grcateft of all knowledge.
You would think it hard, not to know the family into which you was born, what ance- ftors you were delcended from , and what eftate was to come to you. But, my children, you may know all this with exadnels, and yet be as ignorant of your felves, as he that takes himlelf to be wax.
For though you were all of you born of my body, and bear your father's name, yet you are all of you pure Jpirits. I don't mean that you have not bodies that want meat and drmkj and Jleep^ and chathing^ but that all that deferves to be called you^ is nothing elle but fp'trtt. A being Ipiritual and rational in its nature, that is as contrary to all flelhly or corporeal beings, as Uje is contrary to death:, that is made in the image of God, to live for ever, never to ceafe any more, but to enjoy life^ and reafon^ and knowledge^ and happmefs in the prefence of God, and the Ibciety of Angels 5 and glorious Spirits, to all eter- nity.
Every thing that you call yours, befides this fpirit, is but like your cloathing ^ fome- thing that is only to be us'd for a while, and then to end^ and dte^ and wear away^ and to lignify no more to you, than the cloathing and bodies of other people.
But, my children, you are not only in this manner y/^/V/Vj, but you zxq fallen fpirits, that began your life in a ftate of corruption and
dilbr-
5^2 A Serious Call
diibrdcr, full oi' tempers and paillons, that blind and darken the reafon of your mind, and incline you to that which is hurtful.
Your bodies are not only poor and perljhlng like your clOaths, but they are like hifeBed deaths^ that fill you with ill difeafes and dillem- pers, which opprefs the Ibul with fickly ap- petites^ and vain cravings.
So that all of us are like two beings, that have, as it were, two hearts within us ; w^ith the one we fee^ and talte, and admire reafon, purity and holinefs ; with the other we incline to pride, and vanity, and ienfual delights.
This internal war we always feel within us more or lels ; and if you would know the one thing neceffary to all the world , it is this * to prelerve and perfed all that is ratio- iialj holy and div'jne in our nature, and to mor- tify, remove and deftroy all that vanity ^ pride :sLndfenftiaUty^ which fprings from the corrup- tion of our ftate ?
Could you think, my children, when you look at the world, and fee what ctijiofns^ and fajhions^ 2in6. pie aftires^ and troubles^ ^nd projeBsy and tempers^ employ the hearts and time of mankind, that things were thus, as I have told you ?
But don't you be affefted at thefc things, the w^orld is in a great dream^ and but few people are awake in it.
We fancy that we fall into darlcnefs,. when wxdie; but alas, we are moft-ti^lF u$ in the dark 'till thenj and the eyes of our fouls on- ly
to a Vc'voHt and Ihly Life, 363
ly then begin to fee, when our bodily eyes are clofing.
You lee then your ftate, my children • you are to honour, improve and perfed the fpirit that is within you, you are to prepare it for the kingdom of Heaven, to nourifh it with the love of God, and of virtue, to adorn it with good-works, and to make it as holy and heavenly as you can. You are to prclervc it from the errors and vanities of the world- to lave it from the corruptions of the body, from thofe falfe delights, and leniual tempers, which the body tempts it with.
You are to nourilh your fpirits with pious readings, and holy meditations, with watch- ings, faftings , and prayers , that you may tafte, and relifh, and defire that eternal ftate, w^hich is to begin when this life ends.
As to your bodies, you are to confider them as poor^ fertjh'ing things, that are fickly and corrupt at prefent, and will foon drop into common duft. You are to watch over them as enemies^ that arc always trying to tempt and betray you, and lb never follow their ad- vice and counfel ; yon are to confider them as the flace and habitation of your ibuls, and ^o keep them pire^ and clean^ and decent • you are to confider them as the lervants and in- ftruments of action,' and lb give them food^ and reji , and raiment , that they may be ftrong and healthful to do the duties of a cha- ritable, ufeful, pious life.
Whilft
3^4
A Serious Call
^Whilft you live thus, you live like your felves ; and whenever you have lels regard to your fouls, or more regard to your bodies, than this comes to ; whenever you are more intent upon adorning your perlbns, than up- on the perfefting of your fouls, you are much more befide yourfelves, than he, that had ra- ther have a lac'd coatj than an healthful body.
For this reafon, my children, I have taught you nothing that was dangerous for you to learn; I have kept you from every thing that might betray you into weaknefs and folly ; or make you think any thing fine, but z. fne mtnd'^ any thing happy, but the favour of God ; or any thing defirable, but to do all the good you poffibly can.
Inftead of the vain, immodeft entertain- ment of 'Inlays and Opera's^ I have taught you to delight in vifiting xht Jick znd poor. What rmjicky and dancings and dlverjions are to ma- ny in the world, that prayers, and devotions, and Pfalms are to you. Your hands have not been employed in plaiting the hair, and a- dorning your pcrfons ; but in making cloaths for the naked. Ycu have not wafted your fortunes upon yourfelves, but have added your labour to them, for to do more good to other people.
Inftead of forc'd papes^^ patched facesy gen- teel a'rrsj and affeBed motions^ I have taught you to conceal your bodies with mo dcji garment Sy and let the world haye nothing to view of
to a Devout and Holy Life. 5^5
you, but the flahwejsy th^Jincerlty^ and Jpu- m'lVtty of all your behaviour.
You know, my children, the high ferfed;U on^ and the great rewards of virginity ; you know how it frees from worldly cares and troubles, and furnifhes means and opportuni- ties of higher advancements in a divine life ; therefore love, and efteem, and honour virgi- nity : blefs God for all that glorious company of holy virgins, that from the beginning of Chriftianity have, in the feveral ages of the Church, renounced the cares and pleafures of matrimony, to be perpetual examples of foli- tude, contemplation, and prayer.
But as every one has their proper gift from God, as I look upon you all to be fo many great bleffings of a married ftate; fo I leave it to your choice, either to do as I have done, or to afpire after higher degrees of perfeftion in a virgin ftate of life.
I defire nothing, I prefs nothing upon you, but to make the moll of human life, and to afpire after perfedion in whatever ftate of life you chufe.
Never therefore confider yourfelves as per- fons that are to be fecn^ admir'd and courted by men ; but as poor Jinners^ that are to fave yourfelves from the vanities and follies of a miferable world, by htimillty^ devotion^ and felf-dentah Learn to live for your own fakes, and the fervice of God ^ and let nothing in the world be of any value with you, but that
which
0^66 A Serious Call
\vhich you can turn into a fervice to God, and a means of your future happinefs.
Confider often how powerfully you are cal- led to a virtuous life, and what great and glorious things God has done for you, to make you in love with every thing that can promote his glory.
Think upon the vanity and fhortnefs of human life, and let death and eternity be oft- en in your minds ; for thefe thoughts will ftrengthen and exalt your minds, make you wale and judicious, and truly fenfible of the littlenefs of all human things.
Think of the happinefs of prophets and apoftles, laints and martyrs, who are now re- picing in the prefcnce of God, and fee them- selves poffcflbrs of eternal glory. And then think how^ defirable a thing it is, to watch and pray, and do good as they did, that when you dye you may have your lot amongft them.
Whether marry'd therefore, or unmarry'd, con'i^der yourfelves as mothers and lifters, as friends and relations. to all that want your af- fiftan ce ; and never allow yourfelves to be idle, whiU I others are in want of any thing that your hands can make for them.
This ufeful, charitable, humble employ- ment of yourfelves, is what I recommend to you w ith great earneftnefs, as being a fubftan- tial pa rt of a wife and pious life. And be- fides tjhe good you will thereby do to other
people,
!
i
to a T)e^dut and Holy Life. ^6j
people, every virtue of your own heart will be very mueh improved by it.
For next to read'n^g^ med/tcith^, and praye?-^ there is nothing that lb lecures our hearts from foolifh paffions, nothing that prelerves fo ho- ly and wile a frame of mind, as Ibme tij'ejul^ humble employment of ourfelves.
Never therefore confider your labour as an amufement^ that is to get rid of your time, and fo may be as trifling as you pleale ; but confider it as fomething that is to be fervice- able to yourfelves and others, that is to ferve fome Ibber ends of life, to fave and redeem your time, and make it turn to your account, when the works of all people Ihall be try'd by fire.
When you was little, I left you to little a- mufements, to pleafe yourfelves in any things that were free from harm ; but as you are now grown up to a knowledge of God, and your lelves ^ as your minds are now acquainted with the worth and value of virtue, and exalted v/ith the great doftrines of Religion, you are now to do nothing as children, but defpife every thing that is poor, or vain, and imper- tinent \ you are now to make the labours of your hands fuitable to the piety of your hearts, and employ yourfelves for the lame, ends, and with the lame fpirit, as you watch and fray.
For if there is any good to be done by your labour, if you can poffibly employ yourfelves ufefully to other people, hov/ filly is it, how
con-
5^8 A Serious Call
contrary to the wifdom of Religion, to make that a 77iere amiifemcnt^ which might as eafily be made an exercife of the greateji charity ?
What would you think of the wifdom of him, that Ihould employ his time in diftilling of waters, and making liquors which no body could ufe, merely to amufe himfelf with the variety of their colour and clearnefs, when with lefs labour and expence he might fatisfy the wants of thofe, who have nothing to drink ?
Yet he would be as wifely employ'd, as thole that are amufing themfelves with fuch tedious works as they neither need, nor hard- ly know how to ufe when they are finifli'd ; when with lefs labour and expence they might be doing as much good, as he that is cloathing the naked, or vljiting the fick.
Be glad therefore to know the wants of the pooreft people, and let your hands be employ'd in making fuch mean and ordinary things for them, as their neceilities require. By thus making your labour a gift and fervicc to the poor, your ordinary work will be changed in- to a holy fervice, and made as acceptable to God, as your devotions.
And as charity is the greateft of all virtues, as it always was the chief temper of the great- eft faints i fo nothing can make your own charity more amiable in the fight of God, than this method of adding your labour to it.
The humility alio of this employment will be as beneficial to you, as the charity of it.
It
to a De^opit a fid Holy Life. ^6p
It will keep you from all vain and proud thoughts of your own ftate and diftindion in life, and from treating the poor as creatures of a different fpecies. By accuftoming yourfelves to this labour and fervice for the poor, as thQ reprefentatlves of Jefus Chrijfl:, you will foon find your heart Ibften'd into the greateft meek- neft and lowlinefs towards them. You will reverence their eftate and condition, think it an honour to ferve them, and never be lb pleas'd with yourfelf, as w^hen you are moji' humbly employed in their lervice.
This' wall make you true difciples of your meek Lord and Mailer, who cajne into the world not to he mlm fired imto^ hat to mint ft er ; and tho' he was Lord of all, and amongft the creatures of his ow^n making, yet was amongft them, as one that ferveth.
Chriftianity has then had its moft glorious effefts upon your hearts, w^hen it has thus changed your fpirlt, removed all the pride of life from you, and made you delight in hum- bling yourfelves beneath the loweft of all your fellow-creatures.
Live therefore, my children, as you have begun your lives, in humble labour for the good of others; and let ceremonious vifits, and vain acquaintances, have as little of your time as you. poffibly can. Contrad no foolifh. friendfhips, or vain fondnefles for particular perlbns ; but love them moft, that moft turn your love towards God, and your compaffioa towards all the world.
B b But
570 A Serious Call
But above all, avoid the converfation of fi}7e'hred fops and heaux^ and hate nothing more than the idle difcourfe, the flattery and compliments of that fort of men ; for they are xhcjhame of their ov^nJeXy and ought to be the abhorrence of ours.
When you go abroad, let humility, mo- defty, and a decent carriage, be all the Jlate that you take upon you ; and let tendernefs, companion, and good nature, be all the ?5>;^ breeding that you Ihew in any place.
If evil fpeakwg^ fcandaJ^ or backhlt'tng^ be the converfation where you happen to be, keep your heart and your tongue to yourfelf ;, be as much griev'd as if you was amongft cur- ling and fwearing, and retire as foon as you can.
Though you intend to marry, yet let the time never come, till you find a man that has thole perfections, which you have been labour- ing after yourfelves ; who is likely to be a friend to all your virtues, and w^ith whom it is better to live, than to want the benefit of his example.
"Love poverty J znd rtycrcncc poor people '^ as for many reafons, fo particularly for this, be- caufe our blefled Saviour was one of the num- ber, and becaufe you may make them all ib many friends and advocates with God for you.
Vifit and converfe with them frequently ; you will often find fmipUcity^ hinocence^ pati^ ^nccjfortittide^ and great piety amongft them;
and
to a 7)ez^ont and Holy Life. 571
and where they are not Ilo^ your good exam- ple may amend them.
Rejoice at every opportunity of doing aa humble aftion, and exercifing the meeknels of your minds ; whether it be, as the Scri- pture exprelTes it, in wajlj'tng the fahits feet y that is, in waiting upon, and ferving thofe that are below you ; or in bearing with the haughtinels and ill-manners of thofe that are your equals, or above you. For there is no- thing better than humility; it is the fruitful foil of all virtues ; and every thing that is kind and good, naturally grows from it.
Therefore, my children, pray for, and pra- ctife humility, and rejed every thing in drefsy or carriage^ or converfation^ that has any ap-^ pearance of pride.
Strive to do every thing that is praife- wor- thy, but do nothing in order to be praifedj nor think of any reward for all your labours of love and virtue, till Chrift cometh with all his holy angels.
And above all, my children, have a care of vain and proud thoughts of your own virtues. For as foon as ever people live different from the common way of the world, and defpile its vanities, the devil reprefents to their minds the height of their own perfeftions; and is content they fliould excel in good works, pro- vided that he can but make them proud of them.
Therefore watch over your virtues with a . jealous eye, and rejed every vain thought, as \^ B b 2 you
^y2 A Serious C A L t
you would rejeft the moft wicked imagmati-' on ; and think what a lols it would be to you, to have the fruit of all your good works de- voured by the vanity of your own minds.
Never therefore allow yourfelves to defpife thofe who do not follow your rules of life; but force your hearts to love them, and pray to God for them ; and let humility be always zMfperlng it into your ears, that you your felves will fall from thofe rules to-morrow, if God Ihould 'leave you to your own ftrength and wifdom.
When therefore you have fpent days and weeks well, don't fuffcr your hearts to con- template any thing as your own, but give all the glory to the goodnefs of God, who has carry'd you through fuch rules of holy living, as you were not able to obferve by your own ftrength ; and take care to begin the next day, not as proficients in virtue, that can do great matters, but as poor beginners^ that v/ant the daily alliftance of God to lave you from the
Your dear father was an humble, watchful, pious, wife man. Whilft his ficknefs would fuffer him to talk with me, his difcourfe was chiefly about your education. He knew the benefits of humility, he faw the ruins which pride made in our lex; and therefore he con- jured me with the tendereft exprefiions, to re- nounce the faflo'iojiahle ways of educating daughters in fride -xndfoftnej's^ in the care of |:heir beauty and drefs ; and to bring you all up
ia
to a Devout and Holy Life. ^y-^
m the plcunejij Jimfleft inftances of an hunibic, hoJy, and induftrious life.
He taught mc an adm'irahle rule of humi- lity, which he praftis'd all the days of his life; which was this; to let no morning pals, without thinking upon iovn^ frailty and /;;yfr- nuty of our own, that may put us to cojifnfto?!^ make us bhtjb inivardly^ and entertain a mean opinion of our 1 elves.
Think therefore, my children, that the foul of your good father, who is now with God, ipeaks to you through my mouth ; and let the double defire of your father, who is gone, and I, who am with you, prevail upon you to love God, to ftudy your own perlecti- on, to pradife humility, and with innocent labour and charity, to do all the good that you can to all your fellow-creatures, 'till God calls you to another life.
Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters.
The fpirit of this education fpeaks fo plain- ly for its felf, that, I hope, I need lay noihing in its juftification. If we could lee it in life, as well as read of it in books, the world would loon find the happy effcds of it,
A daughter thus educated, would be a blel- fing to any family that Ihe came into; a lit companion for a wile man, and make him happy i\\ the government of his family, and the education of his children.
And fhe that either was not inclin'd, or could not difpolc of her lelf well in marriage,
F b 3 would
574 ^ Serious Call
would know how to live to great and exceL* lent ends in a ftate of virginity.
A very ordinary knowledge of the fp'int of Chriftianity, fecms to be enough to convince us, that no education can be of true advan- tage to young women, but that which trains them up in humble mdaflry^ in great plalnnefs of life, in exa^ modefly of drej's^ manners and carriage^ and in JlrtB devotion. For what fliould a Chriftian woman be, but 2i plain ^ un^ affetied^ mode ft , humble creature , averfe to every thing in her drefs and carnage^ that can draw the eyes of beholders, or gratify the paC- lions of lewd and amorous perlbns ?
How great a ftranger muft he be to the Gofpel, who does not know that it requires this to be the Ipirit of a pious woman ?
Our bleffed Saviour faith, Whofoever looketh npon a woman to lufl after her , 5^ Matth. V. j^^^j^ already committed adultery with her in his heart.
Need an education which turns women's minds to the arts and ornaments of drefs and beauty , be more ftrongly condemned, than by thefe words ? For furely, if the eye is fo eafily and dangeroufly betray'd, every art and ornament is fufficiently condemned, that naturally tends to betray it.
And how can a woman of piety more juft- ly abhor and avoid any thing, than that which Diakes her pcrfon more a fnare and temptation to other people ? If lajl^ and wanton eyes are the death of the Ibul, can any women think
them^
fo a Dei/out and Holy Life. 375
thcmfclves innocent, who with naked brcafts, patch'd faces , and every ornament of drcfs, invite the eye to offend ?
And as there is no pretence for innocence in fuch a behaviour, fo neither can they tell how to fet any bounds to their guilt. For as they can never know how much, or how oiten they have occafion'd fin in other people, fo they can never know how much guilt will be placed to their own account.
This one would think fliould fufficiently deter every pious woman from every thing that might render her the occafion of loofe paflions in other people.
St. ^aulj fpeaking of a thing entirely /;;/^{?- cefitj reafons after this manner : Bt^t take heedy lefl by any means this liberty of yours become d
Rumbling-block to thofe that are zveak yJnd
through thy knowledge thy weak brother perijh^ for who?n Chr'tfl died. But when ye pn fo a-* gamfi the brethren^ and zvound their weak con-' Jcience^ ye Jin again f Chri-fl. Wherefore^ if meat make my brother to offend^ I zvill eat noflepo while the world fiandeth^ ^ ^"^f ^^^ lejl 1 7'/iake my brother to offend.
Now if this is the fpirit of Chriftianity ; if it requires us to abftain from things thus law- ful, innocent and ufeful, when there is any danger of betraying our weak brethren into any error thereby : Surely it cannot be reck- oned too nice or needlefs a point of conlcience, for w^omcn to avoid fuch things, as are neither innocent nor ufeful, but naturally tend to B b 4 corrupt
37^ ^ Serious C A L f]
corrupt their own hearts, and raife ill paffions in other people.
Surely every woman of chriftian piety ought to fay, in the fpirit of the Apoftle, if fatchhig and jmint^ or any vain adorning of my perfon, be a natural means of making weak, "unwary eyes to offend, I will renounce all thefe arts as long as I live, left I fhould make my fellow-creatures to offend.
I Ihall now leave this fubjeft of humltty% having faid enough, as I hope; to recommend the neceffity of making it the conftant, chief fubjecl: of your devotion at this hour of prayer.
I have confider'd the nature and neceffity of humility, and its great importance to a reli- gious life. J have fhewn you how many dif- ficulties are formed againft it from our natural tempers, the fpirit of the world, and the com- nion education of both fexes.
Thefe confiderations will, I hope, inftrud you how to form your prayers for it to the beft advantage; and teach you the neceffity of letting no day pafs, without a ferious ear- neft application to God, for the whole Jplrit of humility. Fervently befeeching him to fill every part of your foul with it, to make it the ruling, conftant habit of your mind, that you may not only feel it, but feel all your other tempers arifing from it ; that you may have no thoughts, no defires, no defigns, but fuch as are the true fruits of an humble, meejk. and lowly heart.
That
to a DcvoHt and Holy Life. 377
That you may always appear poor, and little, and mean in your own eyes, and fully content that others Ihould have the lame opi- nion of you.
That the whole coiirfe of your life, your expence^ your houfe^ your drefs^ your manner of eatings drhik'tng^ converjing^ and doing eve^ ry things may be lb many continual proofs of the true unfeigned humility of your heart.
That you may look for nothing, claim no- thing, refent nothing ; that you may go through all the anions and accidents of life calmly and quietly, as in the prefence of God, looking wholly unto him, afting wholly for him; neither Iceking vain applaufe, nor re- fenting neglefts, or affronts, but doing and receiving every thing in the meek and lowly fpirit of our Lord and Saviour Jcfus Chrift.
CHAR
578 ^ Serious Call
CHAR XX.
Recommending Devotion at twelve o'CIock^ calVd in Scripture the fixth hour of the day, This frequency of Devotion equally dejirahle by all orders of people. Univerlai love is here recommended to be the fubjett of prayer at this hoar. Of inter cejjion^ as an act of uni-^ verfil love.
IT will perhaps be thought by feme people, that thefe hours of prayer come too thick ; that they can only be oblerv'd by people of great Icifure, and ought not to be prefs'd up- on the generality of men, who have the cares of families, trades and employments ^ nor upon the gentry^ whofe (late ^.nd figure in the world cannot admit of this frequency of Devotion. And that it is only fit for Monafleries and Nun^ neriesy or fuch people as have no more to do in the world than they have. To this it is anfwer'd,
F/r/?, That this method of Devotion is not prefs'd upon any fort of people, as ahfolutely neccffary^ but recommended to all people^ as t\\t befly tYiQ happiefiy and moA perfeB w^iy o^ life.
And if a great and exemplary Devotion is as much the greateft happinefs and perfection
of
to a lDe
of a Merchant^ a Soldier^ or a man of ^naVity^ as it is the grcateft happinels and perfcftion of the moil refi/d coui-emf lathe life, then it is as proper to recomnivnd it without any abate^ -fiients to one order of men, as to another, Becaufe happinefs and perfection are of the lame worth and value to all people.
The Gentleman and TradeJ'man may, and muft fpend much of their time differently from the pious Monk in the chyfler^ or the contemplative Hermit in the defart: But tlien, as the Monk and Hermit lofe the ends of re- tirement, unlefs they make it all ferviceablc to Devotion ; io the Gentleman and Merchant fail of the greateft ends of a facial llfe^ and live to their lofs in the world, vinlefs Devoti^ on be their chief and governing temper.
It is certainly very honejl and creditable for people to engage in trades and employments '^ it is reafonable for Gentlemen to manage well their cjiates znd families^ and take fuch recrea- tions as are proper to their ftate. But then every Gentleman and Tradefman lofes the greateft happinefs of his creation, is robb'd of fomething that is greater than all employ- ments, diftinctions and pleafures of the world, if he does not live more to ^lety and DevOf fwny than to any thing clfe in the world.
Here are therefore no excufes made for men Qihiifinefs 2inA figure in the world. Flrjl^ Be^? caufe it would be to excufe them from that >yhich is the greateft end pf living j and be
only
5S0 A Serious Call
only finding ib many realbns for making them lefs benejicial to themlelves, and lefs ferviceable to God and the world.
Secondly^ Becaufe moft men of bufinefs and figure engage too far in worldly matters ; much farther than the reafbns of human life, or the neceffities of the world require.
Merchants and Tradefmen^ for inftance, are generally ten times farther engaged in bufinefs than they need ; which is fo far from being a reafonable exciije for their want of time for Devotion, that it is their crhne^ and muft be cenfur'd as a blameable inftance of cove- toufnefs and ambition^
The Gentry^ and people of Figure ^ either give themfelves up to State-employ ments^ or to the gratifications of their fajfions^ in a life of gaiety and debauchery ; and if theft things might be admitted as allowable avocations from Devotion, Devotion muft be reckoned a poor circumftance of life.
Unlefs Gentlemen can fhew that they have another God, than the Father of our Lord Je- fus Chrift ; another Nature, than that which is derived from Jdam\ another Religion than the Chriftian, 'tis in vain to plead their ftate, and dignity, and pleafures, as reafons for not preparing their Ibuls for God, by ^Jiriti and regular Devotion,
For fince Piety and Devotion are the com^
iwn unchangeable means of faving all the fouls
in. the world that fliall be faved, there is no-
2. thing
to a Ve^oHt a fid Holy Life. g9i
thing left for the Gentkfnan^ the Soldier^ and the Trade] man ^ but to take care that their le- veral ftates be, by care and watch fulneis, by meditation and prayer, made ftates of an ex^ a3 and folhl f'lety.
If a Merchant^ having forbore from too great bufinefs, that he might quietly attend on the icrvice of God, fhould therefore dye worth twenty J inftead oiffty thoufand pounds, could any one lay that he had miftaken his callings or gone a lofer out of the world ?
If a Gentleman fliould haye killed fewer foxes^ been leis frequent at balJs^ gaming^ and merry-meetlngs^ becaufe ftated parts of his time had been given to rettreynent^ to medita^ fion and devotion^ could it be thought, that when he left the world, he would regret the lofs of thofe hours that he had given to the c^re and improvement of his foul ?
If a Tradefman by alpiring after Chriftian perfection, and retiring himfelf often from his bufinefs, fiiould inftead of leaving his children fortunes to fpend in luxury and idle^ nefs^ leave them to live by their own honcft labour ; could it be faid, that he had made a wrong uje of the world, becaufe he had ihcwn his children, that he had more regard to that which is eternal, than to this which is lb ibqn to be at an end ?
Since therefore devotion is not only the beft and moft defirable practice in a Cloy ft er^ but the beft and moft defirable practice of men, as pictt;, and in every Jl ate of life, they that de-
fire
3S
A Serious C A L L
lire to be excused from it, becaufe they are mtn oi figure y 2ind e/Iates^ and Z'///?;^^, are no \viler than thole that Ihould defire to be ex* cus'd from health and happ'mefs^ becaufe they 'V\'ere men oi jigure and eftates.
I can*t fee why every Gentleman^ Merchant^ or Soldier^ fhould not put thefe queftions feri* oufly to himfelf :
What is the beji thing for me to intend and drive at in all my anions? HowJJjalll do to make the moji of human life ? What ways jh all I wifh that I had taken^ when I am leaving the world ?
Now to be thus w^ife, and to make thus much ufe of our reafon, feems to be but a fmall and necejjary piece of wifdom. For how can we pretend to fenfe and judgment, if we dare not ferioufly confider, and anfwer, and govern our lives by that which fuch que- ftions require of us?
Shall a Nobleman think his birth too high a dignity to condeicend to fuch queftions as thefe? Or a Tradefman think his bufinels too great, to take any care about himfelf?
Now here is defir'd no more devotion in any one's life, than the anfwering thti^few quejli-^ cnSy requires.
Any devotion that is not to the greater advantage of him that ufes it, than any thing that he can do in the room of it 5 any devoti- on that does not procure an infinitely greater good, than can be got by negleding it, is freely yielded up, here is no demand of it.
But
to a Ve^JOiit and Holy Life. 585
But if people will live in lb much ignoranccy as never to put theie queftions to themiclves, but pulh on a blind life at all chances, in queft of they cion'r know what, nor why ; without ever confidcring the wortli, or value, or ten- dency of their aftions, without confidcring what God, reajhuj eternity^ and their own happinels require of them ^ it is for the ho- nour of devotion^ that none can negled it, but thofe who are thus inconfiderate, who dare not enquire after that which is the beft, and moil worthy of their choice.
It is true, Claudius ^ you are a man of ^- gure and eflate^ and are to ad the part of fuch a ftation in human life • you are not calM as ^ Elijah was to be a Prophet^ or as St. '^?aul^ to be an Apoftle.
But will you therefore not love yourfelf ? Will you not leek and ftudy your own happi- nefs, becaufe you are not caird to preach up the fame things to other people ?
You would think it very abliird, for a maa not to value his own healthy becaufe he was not a ^hyfician ; or the prefcrvation of his limhs^ becaufe he was not a hone-jitter. Yet it is more abfurd for you, Claudius^ to ncglefb the improvement of your foul in piety, be- caufe you are not an Apoftle, or a Bifhop.
Confider this text of Scripture, If ye live after the fiejlo, ye jlmJl ^o"^-V"'.i3' dye\ hut if through the Jprit ye do mortify the deeds of the hody^ ye jljall live. For cis many as are led by the Sprit of
God,
384. ^ Serious C a L t
God^ they are the fons of God, Do you think that this Scripture does not equally relate ta all mankind ? Can you find any exception here for men oi fgiire and eftates? Is not ^ jpiri'^ tiial and devout life here made the common condition, on which all men are to become fons of God ? Will you leave hours of prayerj and rules of devotion, to particular ftates of life, when nothing but the fame ipirit of de- votion can lave you, or any man, from eter- nal death ?
Confider again this text : For we mujl all
appear before the judg^nent-Jeat of 2 Cor. V. 10. Qjoylfi^ that every one may receive the things done in his hody^ according to that he hath done^ whether it he good or had. Now if your efiate would excufe you from appearing before this judgment-feat ; \i^o\xi figure coulcl proteft you from receiving according to your works, there would be fome pretence for your leaving devotion to other people. But if you, who are now thus diftinguifli'd, muft then ap- pear na]i.ed amongft common foulsy without any other diftinftion from others, but fuch as your virtues or fins give you ; does it not as much concern you, as any '^rophet^ or jipofik^ to make the befl: provifion for the belt rewards at that great day ?
Again, confider this dodrine of the Apoftle :
For fjoneofusy that is, of us Chri- Rom, XIV. 7, ftians, liveth to hifnfelf and no man
dieth to himfelj : For whether we live J we live unto the Lord) and whether we
to a Devout and Holy Life. 385
^ye^ we dye tinto the Lord. For to this end Chrift both d'ted^ and rofe^ and revived^ that he might be Lord both of the dead and the living*
Now arc you, Claudius^ excepted out of the doftrine of rhis text ? Will you, becaufe of your condition^ leave it to any particular fort of people, to live and dye unto Chrift ? If fo, you muft leave it to them, to be redeemed by the death and reiurrcftion of Chrift. For it is the exprefs doctrine of the text, that for this end Chrift dy'd and rofe again, that none of lis fhould live to himfelf. 'Tis not that Priefts, or Apottles, or Monksy or Hermits^ fhould live no longer to themfelves ; but that none of us^ that is, no Chriftian of what ftate foever, ftiould live unto himfelf.
If therefore there be any inftances of piety, any rules of devotion, which you can ncgledl, and. y-et live as truly unto Chrift, as if you obferved them, this text calls you to no liich devotion. But if you forlake fuch devotion, as you yourfelf know is expected from feme particular forts of people ; fuch devotion as you know becomes people that live wholly unto Chrift, that afpire after great piety ; if ycu negled luch devotion for any worldly con-^ jidcration^ that you may live more to your own temper and tafle^ more to the fafhions and ways of the world, you forlake the terms on which all Chriftians are to receive the be- aefit of Chrift's death and refurreftion.
C c Obferve
58^ ^ Serious Call
Obferve farther, how the fame dodrine 13 taught by St. '^Peter ; yls he which hath called you is holy^ jo he ye holy in all manner of converjlition.
If therefore, ClaudinSj you are one of thofe that are here called, you fee what it is that you are called to. It is not to have fo much reli- gion as fuits with your temper, your bufinefs, or your pleafures ; it is not to a particular fort of piety, that may be fufRcient for Gentle- men of figure and eftates; but it is,^/y?, tobe holy^ as he which hath called yon is holy ; Je^ condfyy it is to be thru holy in all manner of converfation ; that is, to carry this fpirit and degree of holinefs into every part, and thro' the whole form of your life.
And the reafon the Apoftle immediately gives, why this fpirit of holinefs muft be the common fpirit of Chriflians, as fuch, is very affeding, and fuch as equally calls upon all forts of Chriflians. Forafmuch as ye knoWj fays he, that ye were not redeemed with corrupt tihle things^ as Jiher and goldy from your vain
converfation but with the precious blood of
Chriji, 6Cc.
As if he had faid, Forafmuch as ye fcriow ye were made capable of this flate of holinefs, enter'd into a fociety with Chrifl, and made heirs of his glory, not by any human means, but by fuch a myfterious inflance of love, as infinitely exceeds every thing that can be thought of in this world ; fince God has re- deemed you to himfelf, and your own happi-
nefs
to a Devout a7id Holy Life. 3S7
iiefs at fo great a prke^ how bale and fhame- fal muft it be, if you don't hcncclbith devote yourfelves wholly to the glory of God, and become holy, as he who hath called you is holy?
If therefore, Claud} as ^ you confider jouvjh' gurc and eflate ; or if, in the words of the text, you confider your gold and ftlver^ and the corrapuhle things of this life,- as any rea- fon why ycu may live to your own humour and fancy, why you may negled a life of ftri£t piety and great devotion ; if you think any thing in the world can be an excufe for your not imitating the holinefs of Chrift in the whole courfc ^inAform of your life, you make yourfelf as guilty, as if you fliould negled the holinefs of Chriftianity for the fake of pcking Jiraws,
For the greatnefs of this new ftate of life to which we are called in Chrift Jefus, to be for ever as the Angels of God in heaven, and the greatnels of the price by which wx are made capable of this ftate of glory, has turn- ed every thing that is worldly^ temporal^ and corruptible into an equal Uttlenefs \ and made it as great bafenefs and folly, as great a con- tempt of the blood of Chrift, to negled any degrees of holinefs, becaufe you are a man of fome ejlate and quality^ as it would be to ncg- left it, becaule you had a fancy to pick Jiraws.
Again ; the lame Apoftle Ikith, Know ye 72ot^ that your body is the \^^^'^^'^^' temple of the Holy Ghofi which is in^
C c 2 you^
5S8 A SerioHs Call
roti^ and ye are not your own ? For ye are bought with a price ; therefore glorify God in your bo^ dy^ and in your jpirit^ zvhieh are God's.
How poorly therefore, Claudius^ have you read the Scripture, how little do you know of Chriftianity, if you can yet talk of your efiate and condition^ as a pretence for a freer kind of life?
Are you any more your own^ than he that has no efcate or dignity in the world ? Muft mean and little people preferve their bodies as temples of the Holy Ghoft, by watching^ fa ft-- higy znd prayer:^ but may you indulge yours in idlenefs^ in lufis ?inA fenfuality ^ becaufe you have [0 much rent^ or liich a title of diftindi- on ? How poor and ignorant are fuch thoughts as thefe ?
And yet you muft either think thus, or elfe acknowledge, that the holinefs of Saints^ ^ro^ fhetSj and Jpoflles^ is the holinefs that you are to labour after with all the diligence and care that you can.
And if you leave it to others, to live in fuch piety and devotion, in fuch felf-denial, humility and temperance, as may render them able to glorify God in their body, and in their fpirit ; you muft leave it to them alfo, to have the benefit of the blood of Chrift.
Again; the Apoftle faith, Tou know how
^, „ .. we exhorted^ comforted, and charge
1 Thefl.ii.ii. , r '^ ^1 ^ /^
ed every one oj you^ that you would
walk worthy of Gody who hath called you to his
kingdom and glory.
to a Devout and Holy Life. 58^^
You perhaps, Chuidius^ have often heard thefe words, without ever thinking how much they required of you. And yet you can't con- fider them, without perceiving to what an eminent ftate of holinefs they call you.
For how can the holinefs of the Chriftian life be i^t before you in higher terms, than when it is reprelcntcd to you, as walking zvor-- thy oj God? Can you think of any abatements of virtue, any negleds of Devotion, that are well confiftent with a life, that is to be made worthy of God ? Can you fuppofe that any man walks in this manner, but he that watches over all his fteps \ and confiders how every thing he does, may be done in the fpirit of holinefs? And yet as high as thefe expreHi- ons carry this holinefs, it is here plainly made the neceffary holinefs of all Chriftians. For the Apoftle does not here exhort his fellow ApoJiJes and Satnts to this holineis, but he commands all Chriftians to endeavour after it , We charged^ fays he, every one of yoa^ that you would walk worthy of Godj who hath called yoi^ to his klHgdo?7i a?id glory.
Again, St. ^ettr laith, If any man fpeaky
let him [peak as the oracles of Godi
T • -a 7 * 7 • J •/ iPct. iv. II-
tj any man mtnt/ter^ let htm do it^
as of the ability that God giveth ; that God
in all things may he glorify' d in J ejus Chrijl.
Do you not here, Claudius^ plainly perceive
your high calling? Is he that fpeaketh, to
have inch regard to his words, that he appear
to fpeak as by the direction of God? Is he
C c 3 ' that
590 A SenoHs Call
that givcth, to take care that he Co giveth, that what he difpofcth of may appear to be a gift that he hath of God ? And is all this to be done , that God may be glorify'd in all things?
Muft it not then be faid, Has any man No- biUfYj dignity of State, ox jigure in the world? let him lo ufe his NohlUty^ ox Jigure of life, that it may appear he ufes thefe as the gifts of God, for the greater fetting forth of his Glo- ry. Is there now, Claudius^ any thing forc'd, or far-fctch'd in this conclufion ? Is it not the plain fenfe of the words, that every thing in life is to be made a matter of holinefs unto God ? If \o^ then your efjate and dig?nty is ib far from excufing you from great piety and holinefs of life, that it lays you under a great- er neceility of living more to the glory of God, becaufe you have more of his gifts that may be made ferviceable to it.
For people therefore oi jigure^ or hujjnefsy or dignity in the world, to leave great fiety^ and eralnent devotion to any particular orders of men, or fuch as they think have little elfe to do in the world, is to leave the Icingdom of God to them.
For it is the very end of Chriftianity to re-* deem all orders of men into one holy Ibciety, that rich and poor, high and low, mafters and fervants, may in one and the fame Ipirit of piety, become a chofen generation^ a royal '^^rlejlhoody an holy Nation^ a peculiar ^eople^
that
to a T)e'vout and Holy Life. gp i
that are to Jhew forth the fralfes of h'tm^ who
hath called thera out of darknej}^
into his marvellous light. ^ ^^' "' ^*
Thus much being faid to fhew, that great Devotion and Holinels is not to be left to any- particular fort of people, but to be the coni^ vionfpirit of all that defire to live up to the terms of common Chriftianity ; I now pro- ceed to confidcr the nature and neceility of univerjal love^ .which is here recommended to be the fubjed of your Devotion at this hour. You are here alfo call'd to lnterceffio7i^ as the moft proper exercife to raife and preferve that love.
By interceliion is meant a praying to God, and interceding with him for our fellow-crea- tures.
Our blefled Lord hath recommended his love to us, as the pattern and example of our love to one another. As therefore he is con- tinually making interceffion for us all , ^o ought we to intercede and pray for one ano- ther.
A new commandment^ faith he, I give unto yoUy that ye love one another^ as I have loved you. By this fh all all men know that ye are my Difciples^ if fe love one another.
The newnefs of this precept did not confift in this, that men were commanded to love one another; for this was an old precept, both of the law of Mofes ^ and of nature. But it was new in this refped, that it was to imitate a new, and till then unheard-of ex-
C c 4 ample
5^2 A Serious Call
ample of love ; it was to love one another, as Chrifl: had loved us.
And if . len are to know that we are Difci.- ples of Cnrift, by thus .loving one another according to his new example of love, then it is certain^ that if we are void of this love, we make it as plainly known unto men, that we are none of his Difciples.
There is no principle of the heart that is more acceptable to God, than an nmverjal fer- vent love to all mankind, wljhtng and praying for their happinefs ; becaufe there is no prin- ciple of the heart that makes us more like God, who is love and goodnefs it fclf, and created all beings for their enjoyment of hap- pinefs.
The greateft Idea that we can frame of God is, when we conceive him to be a Being of in- finite love and goodnefs ; ufing an infinite wif- dom and power for the common good and hap- pinefs of all his creatures.
The highelt notion therefore, that we can form of man is, when we conceive him as like to God in this refped as he can be; ufing all his finite faculties, whether of wifdom, power, or prayers, for the common good of all his fellow-creatures: Heartily defiring they may have all the happinefs they are capable of, and as many benefits and affiftances from him, as his ftate and condition in the world will j)ermit him to give them.
And on the other hand, what a hafenefs and tmqiiity is there in all inftances of hatredy en--
to a Devout and Holy Life. 393
vyy fpgJ^t and ill-wUl'^ if we confidcr, that every inltance of them is fo far ading in oppo-- Jition to God, and intending vnjchicf and harfn to thofe creatures, which God favours^ and frouBsy and preftrves^ in order to their Jiappinefs ? An ilUnatur'd man amongft God's creatures, is the vao^ perv erf e creiizwxc in the world, acting contrary to that love^ by which himic] f J}i/?j7j!j\, and which alone gives lubfi- ftence to all that variety of beings, that enjoy life in any part of the creation.
IVhatfoever ye 'would that men JljouJd do unto you^ even Jo do unto them.
Now though this is a Doctrine of ^nci ju- Jii^e^ yet it is only an un'werfal hve that can comply with it. For as love is the meujure of our acting towards our fclves, fo we can never aft in the fame manner towards other people, till we look upon them w^ith that love with which we look upon our ielves.
As we have no degrees of Ipight, or envy, or ill-will to our felvcs, fo we cannot be dil- pos'd towards others as we are towards our Ielves, 'till we unherjally renounce all inftan- ces of fpight, and envy, and ill-will, even in Xhtfmalle/i degrees.
If we had any imperfection in our eyes ^ that made us fee any one thing wrong, for the fame reafon they would Ihew us an hundred things wrong.
So if we have any temper of our hearts,
that makes us envious, or fpightful, or ill-
natur'd towards afiy one man, the lame tem-
I per
5P4 ^ Serious C A L L
per will make us envious, and Ipightful, and ill-natur'd towards a great many more.
If therefore we defire this divine virtue of love, we muft exercife and pradife our hearts in the love of a/lj becaufe it is not Chrlftian love, till it is the love of all.
If a man could keep this whole law of love, and yet offend in one pointy he would be guil- ty of all. For as one allowed inftance of inju- ftice deftroys the juftice of all our other acli- ons, fo one allow'd initance of envy, fpight, and ill-will, renders all our other afts of be- nevolence and affedion nothing worth.
A£l:s of love that proceed not from a princi- ple of umverjal love^ are but like ads of ju- llice, that proceed from a heart not dilpos'd to unherfal juftke,
A love which is not univerfal, may indeed hr^ve tendernefs znA-affeBmi^ but it hath no- thing of rlghteoujhefs or ficty in it; it is but humour, and temper, or intereft, or fuch a love as ^Tublicans and Heathens pradife.
All particular envies 2indfpighfSy are as plain departures from the fpirit of Chriftianity, as any particular acls of injuftice. For it is as much a law of Chrift, to treat every body as your neighbour^ and to love your neighbour as your Jelj\ as 'tis a law of Chriftianity, to ab- ftain from theft.
Now the nobleft motive to this univerfal tendernefs and alFtction , is founded in this Doctrine, God is love^ and he that dwelleth in love^ dwelleth in God.
Who
to a Ve^onf and Holy Life. 595
Who therefore, whofc heart has any ten- dency towards God, would not aipire after this divine temper, which lb changes and ex- alts our nature into an union with him ?
How fhould we rejoice in the exercife and praftice of this love , which lb often as we feel it, is fo often an alTurance to us, that God is in us, that we ad: according to his fpirit, who is love it lelf ? But we muft ob- ferve, that love has then only this migh- ty power of uniting us to God, when it is lb fnre and tmiverfal^ as to imitate that love, which God beareth to all his creatures.
God willeth the happinefs of all beings, though it is no happinels to himfelf. There- fore we muft defire the happinels of all be- ings, though no happinels cometh to us from it.
God equally delighteth in the perfeftions of all his creatures, therefore we fhould rejoice in thofe perfeftions, where-ever we fee them, and be as glad to have other people perfect as our felves.
As God forgiveth all, and giveth Grace to all, fo we Ihould forgive all thofe injuries and affronts which we receive from others, and do all the good that wx can to them.
God almighty, befides his own great exam- ple of love, w^hich ought to draw all his crea- tures after it, has fo provided for us, and made our happinefs fo common to us all, that we have no occafion to envy or hate one ano- tlier^
For
35)^
A Serious Call
For we cannot ftand in one anothcrs way, or by enjoying any particular good, keep another from his full fharc of it.
As we cannot be happy, but in the enjoy- ment of God, fo we cannot rival, or rob one another of this happincfs.
And as to other things, the enjoyments and projperltjes of this life, they are fo little in themfelves, fo foreign to our happinefs, and, generally fpeaking, fo contrary to that which , they appear to be, that they are no foundati- on for envy, or fpight, or hatred.
How filly would it be to envy a man, that was drinking poifon out 0^2, golden cup ? And yet who can fay, that he is ading wifer than thus , when he is envying any inltance of worldly greatnefs?
How xn-Sinj f Clint s has adverfity fent to Hea- ven? And how many poor finners has prol- perity plung'd into everlafting milery ? A man feems then to be in the moll glorious ftate, when he has conquered, difgrac'd, and hum- bled his enemy ; though it may be, that fame conqueft has iav'd his adverfary, and undone himfelf.
This man had perhaps never been debauched, but for his fortune and advancement ; that had never been pious, but through his foverty and difgrace.
She that is envy'd for her beauty, may per- chance owe all her fmfery to it; ?iX\^ another may be for ever happy, for having had no ad- mirers of her per/on^
One
to a Devout and Holy Life. 397
One man fucceeds in every thing, and fo lofcs all: Another meets with nothing but crofles and difappointmentSj and thereby gains more than all the world is worth.
This Clergyman may be undone by his be- ing made a B'lfJjop ; and that may lave both himielf and others, by being fix'd to his firft poor vkaridge.
How envy'd was Alexander when conquer- ing the world, he built towns^ let up his Jfa- tues^ and left marks of his glory in fo many kingdoms !
And how defpis'd was the poor preacher St. ^aul when he was beaten with rods ! And yet how ftrangcly was the world miftaken in their judgment ! How much to be envy'd was St. ^aulj How much to be pity'd was Alex- ander !
Thefe few reflexions fiifficiently {hew us, that the different conditions of this life have nothing in them to excite our uneafy pafllons, nothing that can reafonably interrupt our love and affedion to one another.
To proceed now to another motive to this univerj'al love.
Our power of doing external aBs of love and goodnefs, is often very narrow and rc- ftrain'd. There are, it may be, but few peo- ple to whom we can contribute any worldly relief.
But though our outward means of doing good are often thus limited, yet if our heaits are but full of love and goodnefs^ wc get as
it
598 A Serious C A L L
it were an infinite power ^ becaule God will attribute to us thofe good works, thole ads of love, and tender charities, which we fincerely defir'd, and would gladly have performed, had it been in our power.
You cannot heal all the Jrck^ relieve all the foor ; you cannot comfort all in diftrefs, nor be a father to all the fatherlefs. You cannot, it may be, deliver many from their misfortunes, or teach them to find comfort in God.
But if there is a love and tendernefs in your heart, that delights in thele good works, ^nd ex- cites you to do all that you can : If your love has no hounds^ but continually wijhes and frays for the relief and happinels of all that are in diftrefs, you will be received by God as a be- nefaftor to thofe, who have had nothing from you but your good willj and tender affections.
You cannot build hofpitals for the incurable'^ you cannot ereft monaflerles for the education of perfons in holy pUtade^ continual prayer and 7nort\jicat'ion\ but if you join in your heart with thofe that do, and thank God for their pious defigns ; if you are a friend to thefe great friends to mankind, and rejoice in their eminent virtues, you will be received by God as a fharer of fuch good works as, though they had none of your hands^ yet had all your heart.
This confideration furely is fufficicnt to make us look to, and watch over our hearts with all diligence ; to ftudy the improvement of our inward tempers^ aud alpire after every
height
to a T)e^out and Holy Life. 3^9
height and perfedion of a loving, charitable, and benevolent mind.
And on the other hand, we may hence learn the great evil and miichicf of all wrong turns of mind, of efivy^ Jp'^&^^f hatred^ and ill'wUL For if the goodneis of our hearts will entitle us to the reward of good actions, which we never performed \ it is certain that the badnefs of our hearts, our envy, ill-na- ture, and hatred, will bring us under the guilt of adions that we have never commit- ted.
As he that lufteth after a woman Ihall be reckoned an adulterer, though he has only committed the crime in his heart \ lb the ma- licious, Ipightful, ill-natur'd man, that only fecretly rejoices at evil, fliall be reckoned a mur~ derer^ though he has fhed no blood.
Since therefore our hearts, which are always naked and open to the eyes of God, givefuch an exceeding extent and increafe eitlier to our virtues or vices, it is our heji and greateji bu- finels to govern the motions of our hearts, to watch, corred, and improve the inward ftate and temper of our fouls.
Now there is nothing that ib much exalts our fouls, as this heavenly love ; it cleanies and purifies like a holy fire, and all ill tem- pers fall away before it. It makes room for all virtues, and carries them to their grcatcll height. Every thing that is good and holy grows out of it, and it becomes a continual fource of all holy defires, and pious practices.
By
4 DO A Serious Call
By love, I don't mean any natural tendernefs^ which is more or Icfs in people, according to their conftitutions \ but I mean a larger frin^ Ctple of the foul, founded in reafofi and pety^ which makes us tender, kind, and benevolent to all our fellow-creatures, as creatures of God, and for his fake.
It is this love that loves all things in God, as his creatures, as the images of his power, as the creatures of his goodnefs, as parts of his family, as members of his fociety, that be- comes a holy principle of all great and good actions.
The love therefore of our neighbour is only a branch of our love to God. For when we love God with all our hearts, and with all our fouls, and with all our ftrength, we Ihall ne- celTarily love thofe beings that are lb nearly related to God, that have every thing from him, and are created by him, to be objeds of his own eternal love. If I hate or defpife any one man in the world, I hate Ibmething that God cannot hate, and defpife that wliich he loi^es.
And can I think that I love God with all my heart, whilst I hate that which belongs only to God, which has no other mafter but him, which bears \iVi image, is part of his family, and exifts only by the continuance of his love towards it ?
It was the impoffibility of this that made St. John fay, That ij any man faith ^ he loveth Gody and hateth his brother ^^ he is a liar.
Thefe
to a Devout and Holy Life. 401
Thefe reafons fufRcicntly fhcw us, that no love is holy J or rcligioiiSy till it becomes r/;;/- verfciL
For if Religion requires me to love all per- ibns, as God's creatures, that belong to him, that bear his image, enjoy his protedion, and make parts of his family and houfhold ^ if thefe are the great and neceflary rcalbns why I fliould live in love and friendfhip with any one man in the world, they are the fame great and neceflary rcafons why I fliou]d live in love and friendfhip with every man in the world ; and confequently I offend againft all thefe reafonsy and break through all thefe ties and ohJigaUonSy whenever I want love towards any one man. The fin therefore of hating or defpifing any one man, is like the fin of ha- ting all God's creation ; and the neceflity of loving any one man, is the fame neceflity of loving every man in the world. And though many people may appear to us ever fo finful, odious, or extravagant in their conduct, we mufl: never look upon that as the leafl: motive for any contempt or difregard of them ; but look upon them w ith the greater compaflion, as being in the moft pitiable condition that can be.
As it was the Sins of the World, that made the Son of God become a compaflionate, fuC- fering Advocate for all mankind • ^o no one is of the Spirit of Chrift, but he that has the titmofi compajfton for finners. Nor is there any greater fign of your own perfection^ than when
D d you
/^on A Serious Call
you find yourfelf all love and compaffion to- wards them that are very weak and defective. And on the other hand, you have never lefs realbn to be pleas'd with yourfelf, than when, you find yourfelf moll angry and offended at the behaviour of others. All fin is certainly to be hated and abhorred where-ever it is ^ but then we muft fet ourfelves againlt fin, as we do againft Jicknefs and d'lfeafes^ by fliewing ourfelves tender and compaffionate to Xh.^ Rch and dlfeafed.
All other hatred of fin, which does not fill the heart with the fiftefl^ tenderejl affections towards perfons miferable in it, is the fervant of fin at the fame time that it feems to be hating it.
And there is no temper which even good men ought more carefully to watch and guard againft than this. For it is a temper that lurks and hides itfelf under the cover of many virtues, and by being unfufpeded does the jnore mifchief.
A man naturally fancies, that it is his own exceeding love of virtue that makes him not able to bear with thofe that w^ant it. And when he abhors one man, deffifes another, and can't bear the name of a third, he fuppofes it all to be a proof of his own high Jhife of vir- tue, ^Lwdipifj hatred o^ ^vs\.
And yet one would think, that a man needed no other cure for this temper, than this one refledion :
That
to a Devout ami Holy Life. 405
That if this had been the Spirit of the Son of God, if he had hated fin in th/s mamier^ there had been no redemption of the World : That if God had hated finners in this manner day and night, tlie world itfelf had ceafed long ago.
This therefore we may take for a certain rule, that the more we partake of the divine nature, the more improved we are ourfelves^ and the higher our fenfe of virtue is, the more we ftiall pity and companionate thofe that want it. The fight of fuch people will then, inftead of ralfing in us a haughty con- tempt, or peevifli indignation towards them, fill us w^ith fuch bowels of compaflion, as when we fee the miferies of an hoJpkaL
That the follies therefore, crimes, and ill behaviour of our fellow-creatures, may not leflTen that love and tendernefs which we arc to have for all mankind, we fhould often con- fider the realbns on which this duty of love is founded.
Now we are to love our neighbour, that is, all mankind , not becaufe they are w^iie, holy, virtuous, or well-behavVi ^ for all mankind neither ever was, nor ever will be fo; there- fore it is certain, that the realon of our being obliged to love them, cannot be founded in their virtue.
Again; if their virtue or goodncfs were the
reafon of our being oblig'd to love people, wx
fhould have no 7iile to proceed by; becaufe
tlio' fomc peoples virtues or vices are very no-
D d a torious,
/i 04 ^ Serious C a L t
tovious, yet, generally fpcaking, we are but very ill judges of the virtue and merit of other people.
thirdly ^ We are fure that the virtue or me- rit of perfons, is not the reafon of our being obliged to love them, becaufe we are com- manded to pay the higheit inftances of love to our worft enemies ; we are to love, and blefs, and pray for thofe that moft injurioufly treat us. This therefore is demonftration, that the mierit of perfons is not the reafon on which our obligation to love them rs founded.
Let us farther confider, what that love is, which we owe to our neighbour. It is to love him as ourfclvcs, that is, to have all thofe fentimcnts towards him, which we have to- wards ourfelves ; to wifh him every thing that we may lawfully wifh to ourfelves j to be glad of every good, and forry for every evil that happens to him ; and to be ready to do him ;ill fuch afts of kindnefs, as we are always ready to do to ourfelves.
This love therefore, you fee, is nothing elfe but a love of benevolence-^ it requires no- thing of us, but fuch good isjijhes^ tender af- feB/onSj and fuch ads of klndnefsj as we fhew to ourfelves. '
This is all the love that we owe tothebeftof men ; and we are never to want any degree of this love to the worft, or moft unreafonablc man in the world.
to a Devout and Holy Life. 405
Now what Is the rcalbn why we are to love every man in this manner ? It is anlwer'd, that our obligation to love all men in this manner, is founded upon many rcalbns.
F/7'/?, Upon a reafon of equity ; for if it is ju^j to love our fclves in this manner, it muft be Unjiill to deny any degree of this love to others, becaufe every man is ]h exaftly of the Jame nature, and In the lame condition as our felves.
If therefore your own crimes and follies do not lelfen your obligation to feefc your own goodj and wiih well to your ielf ^ neither do the follies and crimes of your neighbour, lefTen your obligation to wifh and feek the good of your neighbour.
Another reafon for this love, is founded In the authority of God, who has commanded us to love every man as our lelf.
Thirdly^ We are obliged to this love, in imitation of God's goodnels, that wc may be children of our Father which is in Heaven^ who willeth the happinels of all his creatures, and maketh his Sun to rife on the evil, and on the good.
Fourthly^ Our redemption by Jefus Chrift, callethus to the exercife of this love, who came from Heaven, and laid down his life, out of loyc to the whole finful world,
Dd 3 l^'^thlf^
40(5
A Serious Call
Fifthly^ By the command of our Lord and Saviour, who has rcquir'd us to love one ano- ther, as he has loved us.
Thele arc the great, perpetual reafons, on \vhich our obligation to love all mankind as our fclves, is founded.
Thcfe realbns never vary, or change , they always continue in their full force ; and there- fore equally oblige at all times, and in regard to all perlons. •
God loves us, not becaufe we ate wife, and good, and holy, but in pity to us, becaufe we want this happinefs : He loves us, in or-^ der to make us good. Our love therefore xuufi: take this courlc ; not looking for, or re-^ quiring the merit of our brethren, but pity- ing their diforders, and wifhing them all the good that they want, and are capable of re- ceiving.
It appears now plainly from what has been faid, that the love which we owe to our bre- tliren, is only a love of benevolence. Secondly^ That this duty of benevolence is founded upon fuch reafons as never vary or change ; iiich as have no dependance upon the qualities of perfons. From whence it follows, that it is the lame great Jin^ to want this love to a bad man, as to want it to a good mian. Be- caufe he that denies any of this benevolence to a bad man, offends againft all the fame reafons of love, as he does that denies any benevolence to a good man : And conlequentr? ly it is the ffUne fin.
to a Devout a^td Holy Life. 407
When therefore, you let ]oofe any i]l-na- turVi pafTion, either of hatred or contempt towards ( as you ilippofe ) an ill man, confi- der what you would think of another, that was doing the fame towards a good man, and be affurYi that you are committing the fame fin.
You will perhaps fay, How^ is it poffible to love a good and a bad man in the fame degree ?
Juft as it's poffible to be as jufj and falth^
fid to a good man, as to an evil man. Now
are you in any difficulty about performing
jnfiice and fatthfiilnefs to a bad Man ? Are
you in any doubts, whether you need be fo
jnji and faithful to him, as you need be to a
good man ? Now why is it, that you are in
no doubt about it ? 'Tis becaufe you know,
that juftice and faithfulnefs are fovindcd upou
reaibns that never vary or change^ that have
no dependance upon the merits of men, but
are founded in the nature of things, in the
Iaws of God, and therefore are to be obferv'd
with an equal exaftnefs towards good and bad
men.
Now do but think thus juftly of charity, or love to your neighbour, that it is founded upon reaibns, that vary not, that have no dependance upon the merits of men, and then you \w\\\ find it as poffible to perform the fame exatt chanty^ as the fame exa^ jajiice to all m^H; whether good or bad,
D d 4 Yoa
4o8
A Serious C a L !!
You will perhaps fiirther ask, if you arc not to have a particular efteejn^ veneration and reverence for good men ? It is anfwer'd ; Yes. But then this high ejlecm and veneratloji^ is a thing very different Irom that love of bcnevo^ lence which wx ov/e to our neighbour.
The high efteem and veneration w^hich you have for a man of eminent piety, is no aft of charity to him ^ it is not out of pity and companion that you lb reverence him, but it is rather an ad of charity to your felf, that fuch efteem and veneration may excite you to follow his example.
You may and ought to love*, like, and approve the life which the good man leads j but then this is only the loving of virtue, where-ever we fee it. And we don't love vir- tue with the love of benevolence, as any thing that w^ants our good wlpes^ but as fomething that is our proper good.
The whole of the matter is this. The ci^llons which you are to love^ efieem^ and ad- mire^ are the adions of good and pious men ; but the ferfons to whom you are to do all the good you can, in all forts of kindnefs and compalTion, are all perfons, whether good or bad.
This diftinclion betwixt love of benevo- lence, and efteem or veneration, is very plain and obvious. And you may perhaps ftill bet- ter fee the plainnefs and neceffity of it, by this following inftancc*
'No
\
to a V.c'V.opit and Holy Life. 409
No man is to have a h'lgh efleem^ or honour for his own accomplifhmcnts, or behaviour^ yet every man is to love himlelf, that is, to wilh well to himlelf; therefore this diltinclion betwixt love and efteem, is not only plain, but very neceffary to be obferv'd.
Again, if you think it hardly pofTible tp diflike the aclions of unreafonable men, and yet have a true love for them : Confider this with relation to your felf.
It is very polTible, I hope, for you not only to diflike, but to detefl and abhor a great ma- ny of your own paft actions, and to aeculc your felf of great folly for thern. But do you then lofe any of thole tender fcntiments towards your felf, which you us'd to have? Do you then ceafe to wifh well to your felf? Is not the love of your felf as ftrong then, as at any other time ?
• Now what is thus poffible with relation to our felves, is in the fame manner poflible with relation to others. We may have the higheft good wifhes towards them, defiring for them every good that we defire for our felves, and yet at the fame time diflike their way of Jife.
To proceed ; all that love which we may juftly have for cur felves, we are in firVci jti- (i'lCe oblig'd to exercile towards all other men * and we offend againft the great law of our nature, and the grcateft laws of God, when pur tempers towai'ds others are different from fhofe which we haye powards our felyes.
4 1 o A Serious C A L L
Now t\Ydtfelf'Jove which isyV//? and reafona^ hhj keeps us conftantly tender^ compajftonate^ and well-affetied towards our felves ; if there- fore you don't feel thefe kind difpofitions to- wards all other people, you may be alTur'd, that you are not in that Hate of charity, which is the very life and foul of chriftian piety.
You know how it hurts you, to be made the jep and ridicule of other people ; how it grieves you to be rohh'd of your reputation, and deprived of the favourable opinion of your neighbours : If therefore you expofe others to jcorn and contempt in any degree ; if it pleafes you to fee or hear of their frailties and injir' mties ; or if you are only loth to conceal their faults, you are fo far from loving fuch people as your felf, that you may be juftly iuppos'd to have as much hatred for them, as you have love for your felf. For fuch tem- pers are as truly the proper fruits of hatred, as the contrary tempers are the proper fruits of love.
And as it is a certain fign that you love your felf, becaufe you are tender of every thing that concerns you; fo it is as certain a Jign that you hate your neighbour, when you are pleased with any thing that hurts him.
But now, if the want of a trtie and exa[i charity be fo great a want, that, as St. "-Paul faith, it renders our greateft virtues but em- pty founds, and tinkling cymbals^ how highly does it concern us to ftudy every art, and pradife every method of raifing our fouls to ■ this
to a Devout and Holy Life. 4 1 1
this ftate of charity? It is for this rcalbn, that you are here defir'd, not to let this hour of prayer pafs, without a full and folemn fup- plication to God, for all the inftanccs of an univerfal love and benevolence to all mankind. Such daily conftant devotion, being the on- ly likely means of preferving you in fuch a ftate of love, as is neceflary to prove you to be a true follower of Jefus Chrift.
CHAP. xxr.
of the necefjtty and benefit of Interceffion, con- Jider\l as an exercife of univerfal love. How all orders of men are to pray and inter-' cede with God for one another. How natii^ rally fich interceffion amends and refor?ns the hearts of thofe that ufe it.
T"^ HAT interceflion is a great and ne- JJL ceflary part of chriftian Devotion, is very evident from Scripture.
The firft followers of Chrift feem to fup- port all their love, and to maintain all their intercourfe and correfpondence , by mutual prayers with one another.
St. 'J^aul^ whether he writes to churches, or particular pcrfons, ihews his interceffion to be perpetual for them, that they are the conftant ^ubjed of his prayers^
■ ■ ' Thus
412 A Serious Call
Thus to the '•Thilipp'jans^ I thcinh 7ny God upon every remembrance of you, ii • »• 4' 5- yllways in every prayer of mine for yfiii all., 77Uiking requeji with joy. Here we lee, not only a continual interceflion , but per- formed with lb much gladnefs, as fhews that it was an exercjlc of Igye, in which he highly Tcjoicki.
His Devotion had alfo the fame care for particular perfons ; as appears by the follow- ing pallage. J thank my God., whom I ferve . from 7ny fore-fathers., uuith a fare
2 im. 1. 3. confciciice., that without ceajing I have remembrance of thee In my prayers night and dyi). How holy an acquaintance anci friendlliip was this, how worthy of perfons that were raised above the world, and related to one another, as nev/ mcmher? of a king- dom of heaven!
Apoftles and great Saints did not only tli;is benefit, and blefs particular Churches, and private perfons; but they themfelves alio re- ceived graces from God by the prayers of a- tkers. Thus faith St. 'Taul to the Corinthians^ . Toil alfo helping together by prayer
for nSy that Jor the gift be flowed f-ifon us by the means of many perjbns^ thanks viay be given by many on our behalf
This was the antient friendflnp of Chriftians, uniting and cementing their hearts, not by worldly confiderations, or human paffions, but by the mutual communicatioa of fpiritual
blei;
to a Vez^otif and Uoly Life. 413
bleflings, by prayers and thankfgivings to God for one another.
It was this holy ihtercefTion that rais'd Chriftians to fuch a ftate of mutual love, as far exceeded all that had been prais'd and ad- mired in human friendfhip. And when the fame ipirit of t)iterceJJion is again in the world, when Chriftianity has the lame powxr over the hearts of people, that it then had, this holy friendfhip will be again in fifhion, and Chri- ftians will be again the wonder of the world, for that exceeding love which they bear to one another.
For 7i frequent interceiTion w'lth God, eatncfl- ly befeeching him to forgive the fills of all mankind, to bids them with his providence, enlighten them with his Spirit, and bring them to everlafting happinefs, is the divineft exercife that the heart of man can be engaged in.
Be daily therefore on your knees in a folemn, deliberate performance of this devotion, pray- ing for others in S^xq\v forms ^ with fuch Jtngth^ i?7iportHmty^ and earneftnejs^ as you ufe for yourfelf • and you will find all Vitth^ lll-natn/d paffioris dye away, your heart grow grecit and generous^ delighting in the common happinels of others, as you ufcd only to delight in your own.
For he that daily prays to God, that all men may be happy in heaven, takes the likc- liefl: way to make him wifh for, and delight in their happinels on earth. And it is hardly
pollible
4^4 ^ Serious Call
poffible for you to bcleech and intrcat God to make any one happy in the higheft enjoy- ments of his glory to all eternity, and yet be troubled to fee him enjoy the much imallcr gifts of God in this fliort and low ftatc of hu- man life.
For how ftrange and unnatural would it be, to pray to God to grant health and a longer life to '3ijick 7nan^ and at the fame time to envy him the poor pleafure of agreeable medicines ?
Yet this would be no more ftrange, or un- natural, than to pray to God that your neigh- bour may enjoy the htgheji degrees of his mer- cy and favour, and yet at the lame time envy him the little 'rredit ^.nAfgure he hath amongft his fellow-creatures.
When therefore you have once habituated your heart to a ferious performance of this ho- ly interceffion, you have done a great deal to render it incapable di fpight and envy^ and to make it naturally delight in the happinefs of all mankind.
This is the natural efFeft of 2i general inter- ccjjion for all mankind. But the greateft be- nefits of it are then received, when it delcends to fuch particular inftances, as our Jiate and condition in life more particularly require of us.
Though we are to treat all mankind as iieighhours and brethren^ as any occaiion offers ; yet as we can only live in the adi;^: Ibciety of a few, and are by our ftate and condition more particularly related to fonie than others^ fo
when
to a Ve^otit and Holy Life. 415
when our intercellion is made an cxcrcile of love and care for thofe amongft whom our kt is fallen, or who belong to us in a nearer re-^ latiouy it then becomes the grcateft benefit to ourfelves, and produces its beft effects in our own hearts.
If therefore you fliould always change and alter your interceilions, according as the needs and necejfttlts of your nt'iglohours or acquaint tance feem to require ; befeeching God to de- liver them from fuch or fuch particular evils, or to grant them this or that particular gift, or bleHing; fuch interceffions, befides the great charity of them, would have a mighty cffeft upon your own heart, as diipofing you to every other good office, and to the exercile of every other virtue towards fuch perfons, as have ib often a place in your prayera.
This would make it pleafant to you to be coiirtecus^ chilj and CGndefcendlng to all about you ; and make you unable to fay, or do a rude, or hard thing to thofe, for whom you had ufed yourfelf to be fo kind and conipaC- donate in your prayers.
For there is nothing that makes us love a man to much, as praying for him ; and when you can once do this fincerely for any mar, you have fitted your foul for the performance of every thing that is kind and civil towards him. This will fill your heart w^ith a gene- rofity and tendernefs, that will give you a bet- ter and fweeter behaviour, than any thing that is called 7^/;^ breeding^ and good manners.
By
41 6 A SerioHj' Call
By confidcring yourfelf as an advocate with God for your neighbours and acquaintance, you would never lind it hard to be at peace with them yourfelf. It would be eafy to you to bear w^th, and forgive thofe, for whom you particularly implored the divine mercy and forgivenefs.
Such prayers as thefe amongft neighbours and acquaintiince^ would unite them to one ano- ther in the ftrongeft bonds of love and ten- dernefs. It would exalt and ennoble their fouls, and teach them to confider one another in a higher ftate, as members of a fpiritiial Joctety^ that are created for the enjoyment of the common bledings of God, and fellow- heirs of the iame future glory.
And by being thus defirous, that every one fliould have their full ftiare of the favours of God, they would not only be content, but glad to fee one another happy iu the little enjoyments of this tranlitory life.
Thele w^ould be the natural effeds of fuch an interceiTion amongft people of the fame town or ?2e}ghbourhoodj or that were acquainted w^ith one another's ftate and condition,
Ourayiius is a holy Prieft, full of the fpirit of the Golpel, watching, labouring, and pray- ing for a poor country village. Every foul in it is as dear to him as himlelf ; and he loves them all, as he loves hi mfelf ; becaufehe^r^j^ for them all, as often as he prays for him- fdf.
If
to a T)€
If his whole life is one continual exercife of great zeal and labour, hardly ever latisfy'd with any degrees of care and watchfulnels, ^tis bccaufe he has learned the great value of fouls^ by lb often appearing before God, as an intercejfbr for them.
He never thinks he can love, or do enough for his flock ; becauie he never confiders them in any other view, than as fo many perlbns, that by receiving the gifts and graces of God, are to become his ho^e^ hisyV^, and his crown of rejo'idng.
H« goes about his Parifh^ and vifits every body in it ^ but vifits in the fame fpirit of piety that he preaches to them ; he vifits them to encourage their virtues, to affift them with his advice and counfel, to difcover their man- ner of life, and to know the ftate of their fouls, that he may intercede with God for them, according to their particular necejjities.
When Oitranius firft entred into holy orders, he had a haiightinefs in his temper, a great contempt and dif regard for ail foolifh and un- reafbnable people; but he has pray'd ^- way this fpirit, and has now the greatelt ten- dernefs for the motl obflinate finners \ becauie he is always hoping, that God will fooner or later hear xhok prayers that he makes for their repentance.
The rudenefs^ ill-nature^ or perverfe beha- viour of any of his flock, ufed at firll to be- tray him into impatience; but it now riflfes -{IQ other pallion in him, than a defire of be-
E c ing
4 1 8 A Serious C a L L
ing upon his knees in prayer to God for them^ Thus have his frayers for othcjs, ^//^;*W and ^- raended the ftate of his own heart.
It would ftrangely delight you to lee with what fplrit he converfes, w^th what tendernejs he reproves, with what affeBwn he exhorts, and with what v'lgor he preaches ; and 'tis all owing to this, becaufe he reproves, exhorts, and preaches to thofe, for whom he firft prays to God.
This devotion foftens his heart, enlightens his mind, fweetens his temper, and makes every thing that comes from him, inftruftive, amiable, and affecting.
At his firft coming to his little Village^ it was as dilagreeable to him as a frijon^ and every day feeto'd too tedious to be endured in fo retired a place. He thought his Parifh was too full of poor and mean people, that were none of them fit for the converfation of a Gentleman.
This put him upon a clofe application to his ftudies. He kept much at home, writ mtes upon Homer and ^lautusy and fometimes thought it hard to be called to pray by any poor body, when he was juft in the midft of one of Homer's battels.
This was his polite^ or I may rather fay, poor^ ignorant turn of mind, before devotion had got the government of his heart.
But now his days are lb far from being te- dious, or his Parifh too great a retirement, that he now^ only \vants more time to do that
variety
to a T)c^ont and Holy Life. 419
variety of good which his Ibul thirfls after. The Iblitude of his little Parifli is become matter of great comfort to him, becaulc he hopes that God has placed him and his flock there, to make it their way to heaven.
He can now not only converfe with, but gladly attend and wait upon the pooreft kind of people. He is now daily watching over the weak and hijirm^ humbling himlelf to perverfe, rude, ignorant people, where-ever he can find them ; and is ib far from defiring to be confidered as a Gentle^nan^ that he de- fires to be uied as the fervant of all ; and in the fpirit of his Lord and Matter ^/Wj h'lmfelfj and is glad to kneel down 2indwaJJj any of their feet.
He now thinks the poorett creature in his Parifh good enough, and great enough, to deferve the humbleft attendances, the kindeft friendlhips, the tendereft offices, he can poili- bly Ihew them.
He is fo far now from wanting agreeable company, that he thinks there is no better converfation in the world, than to be talking with poor and mean people about the kingdom of heaven.
All thefe noble thoughts and divine fenti- ments are the effeds of his great devotion ; he prefents every one fo often before God in his prayers, that he never thinks he can ejieeniy reverence^ or ferve thole enough, for whom he implores fo many mercies from God.
E e a Oura^
/^20 A Serious Call
Ourmnis is mightily afFccled with this paf- fage of holy Scripture, The effe^ Bual^ jerveut prayer of a righteous man avatleth much.
This makes him praftife all the arts of holy living, and afpire after every inftance of piety and nghteoufnefs, that his prayers for his flock may have their full force, and avail much with God.
P'or this reafon he has fold a fmall eftate that he had, and has erefted a charitahle re- tirement for antient, poor people to live ia prayer and piety, that his prayers being affift- ed by fuch good works, may fierce the clouds^ and bring down blellings upon thofe fouls committed to his care.
Ouranhis reads how God himfelf faid unto
^ 'j4bmelech concern in 2; Abrahatn. He
Gen. XX 7. / n -
is a 'Prophet J he jhall pray for thee ^
and thou pah live.
And again, how he faid of yoh^ And my
tob xlii. 8. y^^^^^^^ Job fiall pray for you j for ^ him will I accept.
From thefe paflages Ou rani us juftly con- cludes, that the prayers of men eminent for holinefs of life, have an extraordinary power with God ; that he grants to other people fuch pardons, reliefs and bleffings, through their prayers,^ as would not be granted to men of lefs piety and perfedion. This makes Oura-* uius exceeding ftudious of chriftian perfection, fearching after every grace and holy temper, purifying his heart all manner of ways, fear-
ilil
to a Devout and Holy Life. ^21
ful of every error and dcfed in his life, left his prayers for his flock Ihould be lefs availing with God, through his own defects in holi- nefs.
This makes him careful of every temper of his heart, give ah}is oizW that he hath, watch ^ 2indfjff^ and morthfy^ and live according to the ftrifteft rules of temperance^ meeknejs^ and humility^ that he may be in Ibme degree Hke an Abraham^ or a ^oh in hisParifli, and make fuch prayers for them, as God will hear and accept.
Thefe are the happy effeds, which a devout Intercejjion hath produced in the life of Oura^ niiis.
And if other people in their feveral ftati- ons, were to imitate this example, in fuch a manner as fuited their particular ftate of life, they would certainly find the fame happy ef- fefts from it.
If Maflersy for inftance, were thus to rc^ member their fervants in their prayers, be- feeching God to blefs them, and fuiting their petitions to the particular wants and necefli- ties of their fervants; letting no day pafs, without 2ij till performance of this part of De- votion, the benefit would be as great tQ themfelves, as to their fervants.
Nq way fo likely as this, to infpire them with a true ienfc of that power which they have in their hands, to make them delight ia doing good, and becoming exemplary in all thQ parts of a wife and good mailer.
E e 3 The
4^2 A Serious Call
The prefenting their fervants fo often be-* fore God, as equally related to God, and en- ^ titled to the fame expedations of Heaven, as themfelves, would naturally incline them to treat them, not only with fuch humanity as hccAvnc felioW'CreatureSj but with fucl^ tender- nefs^ care^ and ge72eroJity^ as became fellows- heirs of the fame glory. This Devotion would make mailers inclined to every thing that was good towards their iervants ; be watchful of their behaviour, and as ready to require of them an exaft obiervance of the duties of Chriftianity, as of the duties of their fer-? vice.
This would teach them to confider their fervants as God's fervants, to defire their per- fection, to do nothing before them that might corrupt their minds, to impofe no bu- fincfs upon them that fiiould leffen their j^crSc of Religion, or hmder them from their full fhare of Devotion, both publick and pri- vate. This praying for them, would make them as glad to fee their fervants eminent in piety as themfelves, and contrive that they fnould have all the opportunities and encou- ragements, both to know and perform all the duties of the chriftian life.
How natural w^ould it be for fuch a Mafter, to perform evcfy part of Family-Devotion; to have conftant prayers, to excufe no ones abicnce from them; to have the Scriptures, and books of piety often read amongft his fervants; to take all opportunities of in-
ftrufting
to a DezfOHt aiid Holy Life. 4^3
ftmfting them, of raifing their minds to God, and teaching them to do all their bufincrs, as a lervice to God, and upon the hopes and ex- pectations of another life?
How natural would it be for fuch a one to pity their weakneis and ignorance, to bear with the dulnefs of their underftandings, or the perverfenels of their tempers • to reprove them w^ith tendernels, exhort them with affe- clion , as hoping that God would hear his prayers for them ?
How impoffible would it be for a Mafter, that thus interceded with God for his ler- vants, to ufe any unkind threatnings towards them, to damn and curfe them as dogs and fcoundrels, and treat them only as the dregs of the creation.
This Devotion w^ould give them another fpirit, and make them confider how to make proper returns of care, kindnefs, and prote- ction to thole, who had fpent their ftrength and time in fervice and attendance upon them.
Now if Gentlemen think it too low an em- ployment for their ftate and dignity, to exer- cile fuch a Devotion as this for their yfrz^^;^/"j, let them confider how far they are from the fpirit of Chrift, who made himfelf not only an interceffor, but a iacrifice for the whole race of finful mankind.
Let them confider how miferable their greatnefs would be, if the Son of God fhould think it as much below him to pray for them,
E e 4 iks.
4^4 ^ Serious Call
as they do to pray for their fellow-crea- tures.
Let them confider how far they are from that fpirit, which prays for its moft unjuft enemies, if they have not Idndnefs enough to pray for thofc, by whofe labours and fervice they live in cafe themfe-ves.
Again, if parents- ihould thus make them- felves advocates and inter cejjbrs with God for their children, conftantly applying to Heaven in behalf of them, nothing would be more likely, not only to blefs their children, but alfb to form and difpole their own minds to the performance of every thing that was ex- cellent and praife-worthy.
I don't fuppofcj but that the generality of Parents remember their children in their pray- ers, and call upon God to blefs them. But the thing here intended, is not a general re- membrance of them, but a regular wethod of recommending all their f articular needs and fiecejfities unto God ; and of praying for every fuch particular grace and virtue for them, as their flate and condMon of life fhall feem to require.
The ftate of Parents is a holy ftate, in fome degree hke that of the Priefthood, and calls upon them to blefs their children with their prayers and facrifices to God. Thus it was that holy Job watch'd over, and bleffed his . children , he JanBify'd therriy he
■^^'^ >* ^* roje ti^ early in the mor flings and oj^
fer'd.
to a Ve^voHt Md Holy Life. 425
fer'd barnt'ofer'wgSj according to the numher of them all.
If Parents therefore , confidering thcm- felves in this light, fhould be daily calling up- on God in a foJenm^ deliberate manner, alter- ing and extending their interceflions, as the ftate and growth of their children required, fuch Devotion would have a mighty influence upon the reft of their lives; it would make them very circumfpcd in the government of thcmfelves ; prudent and careful of every thing they faid or did, left their example fhould hinder that, which they fb cojiftantly dcfir'd in-their prayers.
If a father was daily making particular prayers to God, that he would plcaie to in- fpire his children with trtie piety ^ great humi- lity^ TLnAftriB temperance^ what could be more likely to make the father himfelf become ex- emplary in thefe virtues ? How naturally would he grow alham'd of wanting fuch vir- tues, as he thought neceffary for his children ? So that his prayers for their piety, would be a certain means of exalting his own to its greateft height.
If a father thus confider*d himfelf as an in- terceflbr with God for his children, to blcis them with his prayers, what more likely means to make him afpire after every degree of holinefs, that he might thereby be fitter to obtain bleilings from Heaven for them? How would fuch thoughts make him avoid every thing that was fuiiul and diipleafing to J God.
4^^ ^ Seriovs Call
God, left when he pray'd for his children, God fnould rejecl his prayers ?
How tenderly, how religioufly would fuch a father converfe with his children, whom he confider'd as his little fpiritual flock, whole vir- tues he was to form by his example, encourage by his authority, nourifh by his couniel, and profper by his prayers to God for them ?
How fearful would he be of all greedy and unjuft ways of raifing their fortune, of bring- ing them up in pride and indulgence, or of making them too fond of the world, left he fliould thereby r graces, which he was fo often beleeching God to grant them?
Thele being the plain, natural, happy ef- fects of this interceflion, all parents, I hope, who have the real welfare of their children at heart, who defire to be their true friends and benefaftors, and to live amongft them in the fpirit of wiidom and piety, will not negleft fo great a means, both of raifing their own virtue, and doing an eternal good to thofe, who are fo near and dear to them, by the ftrongelt ties of nature.
Laflly^ If ail people, when they feel the lirft approaches of refentment^ envy^ or con-- tempt^ towards others ; or if in all little dii- agreements, and mifunderftandings whatever^ they fhould, inftcad of indulging their minds w4th little low refleftions, have recourfe at fuch times to a more particular and extraor-i.
dinary
to a Vc'votit and Holy Life. 427
dinary interceJfTion with God, for luch perfbns as had rais'd their envy, refentment, or dii- content ; this would be a certain way to pre- vent the growth of all uncharitable tem- pers.
If you was alfb to form your prayer, or in- terceflion at that time, to the greateft degree of contrariety to that temper which you was then in, it would be an excellent means of raifing your heart to the greateft ftate of per- feftion.
As for inftance, when at any time you find in your heart motions of envy towards any peribn, whether on account of his rkhcs^ power ^ reputation^ learnings or advancement^ if you Ihould immediately betake your felf at that time to your prayers, and pray to God to blefs and profper him in that very things which rais'd your envy ; if you fhould exprels and repeat your petitions in the ftrongell terms, befeeching God to grant him all the happinels from the enjoyment of it, that can poiTibly be received, you would loon find it to be the beft antidote in the world, to expel the venom of that poifonous paffion.
This would be luch a triumph over your felf, would lb humble and reduce your heart into obedience and order, that the devil would even be afraid of tempting you again in the fame manner, when he law the temptation turn'd into fo great a means of amending and reforming the ftate of your heart.
Jga'in^
4^8 A Serious Call
Jgatn^ If in any little difference or mifun- derftandings that you happened to have at any time with a relation^ a neighhour^ or any one elfe, you fliould then pray for them in a more extraordinary manner^ than you ever did before ; befceching God to give them eve- ry grace, and bkffing, and happinefs you can think of, you would have taken the fpeedieft method that can be, of reconciling all diffe- rences, and clearing up all mifunderftand- ings. You would then think nothing too great to be forgiven; ftay for no condelcen- lions, need no mediation of a third perfon, but be glad to teftify your love and good-will to him, who had fo high a place in your fe- cret prayers.
This would be the mighty power of fuch Chriftian devotion ; it would remove all pee- vifh pafiions, foften your heart into the moft tender condelcenfions, and be the beft arbitra- tor of all differences that happened betwixt you. and any of your acquaintance.
The greateft relentments amongft friends and neighbours moft often arile from poor p/j:BiIio'Sj and I'/ttle 77nflakes in conduft. A certain fign that their friendfhip is merely hii^ man^ not founded upon religious confiderati- ons, or fupported by fuch a courfe of mutual prayer for one another, as the firft Chriftians uied.
For fuch devotion muft necelTarily either deftroy fuch temperS;, or be itfelf deftroyed by them.
You
to a Devout and Holy Life. 429
You cannot pofTibly have any ill temper, or Ihew any vmfcind behaviour to a man, for whole welfare you are lb much concerned, as to be his advocate with God in private.
Hence we may alio learn the odious nature and exceeding guilt of all Jpght^ hatred ^ con-- tempt y and angry fajjions ; they are not to be confidered as defefts in good nature^ 2.nd Jiveet^ nefs of temper, not as failings in civility of manners, or good breedings but as fuch baje tempers as are entirely inconfiftent with the charity of interceffion.
You think it a fmall matter to be peevifi or iJl-natiir'd to fuch or fuch a man ; but you Ihould confider, whether it be a fmall matter to do that, which you could not do, if you had but )^o much charity as to be able to re- commend him to God in your prayers.
You think it a fmall matter to ridicule one man, and dejpife another; but you Ihould con- fider, whether it be a fmall matter to want that charity towards thefe people, which Chri- ftians are not allowed to want towards their moft inveterate enemies.
For be but as charitable to thefe men, do but hlefs and pray for them, as you are obliged to blefs and pray for your enemies^ and then you will find that you have charity enough, to make it impoffible for you to treat them with any degree of fcorn or contempt. |t>
For you cannot pofhbly delpife and ridicule that man, whom your private prayers recom- mend to the love and fayour of God.
When
430 ^ Serious C A L L
When you defpile and ridicule a man, it is with no other end, but to make him ridicu- lous and contemptible in the eyes of other men, and in order to prevent their efteem of him. How therefore can it be poflible for you finccrely to beTeech God to blefs that man with the honour of his love and favour, whom you defire m.en to treat as worthy of their contempt ?
Could you out of love to a neighbour, de- fire your '^Prince to honour him with every mark of his efteem and favour, and yet at the lame time expofe him to the Icorn and derifi- on of your ov^n fervants ?
Yet this is as poffible, as to expofe that man to the Icorn and contempt of your fellow- creatures, whom you recommend to the favour of God in your fecret prayers.
From theie confiderations we may plainly
difcover the reaibnablenefs and juftice of this
^ . doftrine of the Gofpel, Whofoever
jljall fay unto his brother^ Kacha^
fjaU be in danger of the council ; bat whofoever
fall fiy^ Thou fool^ fall be in danger of hell
fre.
We are not, I fuppofe, to believe that eve- ry hafty word, or unreafonable expreffion, that flips from us by chance^ or furfrize^ and is contrary to our intention and tempers^ is the Igreat fin here fignified.
But he that lays, Racha^ or xX\o\xfool^ muft chiefly mean him that allows himfelf in deli^ berate^ defgn'd ads oS. fcom and contempt XO'^
wards
to a Ve
wards his brother, and in that temper fpeaks to him, and of him, in reproachful language. Now fince it appears, that thele tempers arc at the bottom the moft rank uncharltabknefsj fince no one can be guilty of them, but be- cauie he has not charity enough to pray to God for his brother ^ it cannot be thought hard, or rigorous juftice, that fuch tempers fhould endanger the lalvation of Chriftians. For who would think it hard, that a Chriftian cannot obtain the favour of God for himlelf, unlefs he reverence and efteem his brother Chriftian, as one that bears the image of God, as one for whom Chrift. dy'd, as a member of Chrift's body, as a member of that holy ibcie-/ ty on earth, which is in union with that tri- umphant Church in heaven ?
Yet all thele confiderations muft be forgot, all thele glorious privileges difregarded, before a man can treat him that has them, as an ob- jed of fcorn and contempt.
So that to fcorn, or defpife a brother, or, as our bleffcd Lord fays, to call hiin Racha^ or fool^ muft be iookYi upon, as amongft the moft odious, unjuft, and guilty tempers, that can be fupported in the heart of a Chriftian, and juftly excluding him from all his hopes in the lalvation of Jelus Chrift.
For to defpife one for whom Chrift dy'd, is to be as contrary to Chrift, as he that defpi- fes any thing that Chrift has laid, or done.
If a Chriftian that had liv'd with the holy Virgin M//j, Ihould, after the death of our
Lord^
432 A Serious C A L L
Lord, have taken any occafion to treat her with contempt, you would certainly fay, that he had loft his piety towards our blcfled Lord. For a true reverence for Chrift muft have for- ced him to treat her with refped, who was fo nearly related to him.
I dare appeal to any man's mind, whether it. does not tell him, that this relation of the Virgin Mary to our bleffed Lord, muft have obliged all thofe that lived and conversed with her, to treat her with great refpecl: and efteem. Might not a man have juftly dreaded the ven- geance of God upon him, for any fcorn or contempt that he had fliewn to her ?
Now if this be plain and obvious reafoning, if a contempt offered to the Virgin Mary muft have been interpreted a contempt of Chrift, becaufe of her near relation to him, then let the fame reafoning fhew you the great impiety of defpifing any brother.
You cannot defpife a brother, without de- Ipiiing him that ftands in a high relation to God, to his Sou Jefus Chrift, and to the holy Trinity.
You would certainly think it a mighty im- piety to treat a wrifmg with great contempt, that had been written by the Jingcr of God ; and can you think it a lefs impiety to con- temn and vilify a brother, who is not only the worhmanjfjipj but the image of God ?
You would juftly think it great prophane- nefs to contemn and trample upon an Altar y becaule it was appropriated tQ holy ufes, and
hadi
to a Tje'^jout and Holy Life. 435
had had the body of Chrifl: Yo often placed upon it ; and can you ilippofc it to be Ids prophanenefs to fcorn and trample upon a bro- ther, who fo belongs to God, that his very body is to be confidered as the ieni- fle of the Holy Ghoft P ' ^'''•''- '^■
, Had you deipis'd and ill-treated the Virgin Maryy you had been chargeable with the im- piety of defpifing her, of whom Chrift was born. And if you Icorn and defpife a brother, you are chargeable with the impiety of deipi- iing him, for whom Chrift laid down his life. And now if this Icornful temper is founded upon a difregard of all thefe relations, which every Chriftian bears to God, and Chrift, and the Holy Trinity, can you w^onder, or think it hard, that a Chriftian Vv^ho thus allows him- felf to defpife a brother, ftiould be in danger of hell fire?
Secondly^ It muft here be obferved, that tho' in thefe w^ords, whofoever fall fay ^ "Thou jool^ &c. the great fn there condemned is an allowed temp/^r of deipifing a brother ; yet we are alio to believe, that all hajly exprejjhnsy and words of contempt tho' iboken by far prize or accident^ are by this text condemned as great fins, and notorious breaches of Chriftian charity.
They proceed from great want of Chriftian love and meekneis, and call for great repen- tance. They are only little fins, when com- pared with halnts and fettled tempers of treat-
F f ins
434 ^ Serious Call
ing a brother defpightfuUy, and fall as dired- ]y under the condemnation of this text, as the sfroiTeft habits of uncharitablenefs.
And the reafon why we are always to ap- prehend great guilt, and call ourfelves to a ftrift repentance for thefe hafty expreffions of anger and contempt, is this; becaufe they fel- dom are what they feem to be, that is, mere fiarts of temper, that were occafion'd purely hy ftir prize or accident^ but are much more our own proper afts, than we generally ima- gine.
A man fays a great many bitter things ; he prefently forgives himfelf, becaufe he luppo- les it was only the fuddennefs of the occafion, or fomething accidental^ that carry'd him fo far beyond himfelf.
But he ftiould confider, that perhaps the aC'- ctdentj or farprtze^ was not the occafion of his angry expreffions, but might only be the occafion of his angry temper fhewing itfelf.
Now as this is, generally fpeaking, the cafe, 2.^ z!^ haughty ^ angry language generally pro- ceeds from fbme fecret habits of pride in the heart; fb people that are fubjed to it, tho' only now and then as accidents happen, have great reafon to repent of more than their pre- fent behaviour, to charge themfelves with greater guilt than accidental paflion, and to bring themfelves to fuch penance and morti- fication, as is proper to deltroy habits of a haughty fpirit.
And
to a ^e^oHt and Holy Life. 455
And this may be the reafon, why the text looks no farther than the outvvard language ; why it only lays, Whofoever jhall fay^ Thou fool\ becaule few can proceed ^o far, as to the accidental ufe of haughty^ d'lfdainfal language, but they whole hearts are more or lefs poffcfs'd with habits and fettled tempers of pride and haughtinefs.
But to return. Interceffion is not only the beft arbitrator of all differences, the beft pro^ moter of true friendfhip, the beft cure and prefervative againft all unkind tempers, all an- gry and haughty paffions, but is alio of great ufe to dilcover to us the true ftate of our own hearts.
There are many tempers which we think lawful and innocent^ which we never fufpcd of any harm ; which, if they were to be try'd by this devotion, would ibon fhew us how we have deceived ourlelvcs.
Sufurrus is a pious, temperate, good man, remarkable for abundance of excellent quali- ties. No one more conftant at the fervice of the Church, or whofe heart is more affeded with it. His charity is fo great, that he al- moft ftarvcs himfelf, to be able to give greater alms to the poor.
Yet Sifurrus had a prodigious filling along with thefe great virtues.
He had a mighty inclination to hear and difcover all the defers and infirmities of all about him. You was welcome to tell him any thing of any body, provided that you did
F f 2 not
45^ A Serious Call
not do It in the flile of an cnemv. He neveg diflik'd an cvil-fpeaher ^ but wlien his lan*» guage was rough and pafflonate. If you would but whifpcr any thing gently, though it was ever lb bad in it felfj Sujhrrus was ready to receive it.
When he vifits, you generally hear him re- lating , how lorry he is for the defefts and liiilings of fuch a neighbour. He is always letting you know how tender he is of the re- putation of his neighbour ; how loth to fay that which he is forc'd to fay, and how glad- ly he would conceal it, if it could be con- ceard.
Siifiirrus had Inch a tender, compaffionate manner of relating things the moft prejudicial to his neighbour, that he even feem'd, both to himfelf and others, to be exercifing a chri- fiian charity, at the fame time that he was indulging a whilpering , evil-fpeaking tem- per.
Sufurrus once whifper'd to a particular friend in great fecrecy, fomething too bad to be fpoke of publickly. He ended with faying, how glad he was, that it had not yet took wind, and that . he had fome hopes it might not be true, though the fufpicions were very ftrong. His friend made him this reply :
You fay, SufurruSy that you are glad it has not yet taken wind j and that you have fome hopes it may not prove true. Go home therefore to your clofetj and pray to God for this man, in fuch a manner, and with fuch
■
to a J)cvoiit and Holy Life. 457
earneflnefs, as you would pray for your lelf on the like occafion.
Befeech God to interpofe in his favour, to fave him from falfe accufers , and bring all thofe to Ihame, wlio by iDichar'itiihJe whifpersy 2inAJecret JtorieSy wound him, like thole that ftab in the dark. And when you have made this prayer, then you may, if you pleafe, go tell the fame lecret to fome other friend, that you have told to me.
Sufurrus was exceedingly affcfted with this rebuke, and felt the force of it upon his con- Icience in as lively a manner, as if he had feen the hooks open'd at the day of Judg- ment.
All other arguments might have been re- fifted; but it was impoflible for Sufurrus either to rejed, or to follow this advice, w^ith- out being equally felf-condemn'd in the high- eft degree.
From that time to this, he has conftantly us*d himfelf to this method of interceilion ; and his heart is fo entirely chang'd by it, that he can now no more privately whilper any thing to the prejudice of another, than he can openly pray to God to do people hurt.
Whifperings and evil-fpeakings now hurt his ears, like oaths and curfes; and he has appointed one day in the week, to be a day of penance as long as he lives , to humble himlelf before God, in the Ibrrowful confef. fion of his former guilt.
Ff3 It
43S A Serious Call
It may well be wonder'd, how a man of fo much piety as Sufurrus^ could be fo long de- ceived in himlelf, as to live in fuch a Hate of fcandal and evil-fpeaking^ without fufpefting himfelf to be guilty of it. But it was the tendernefs and leeming comfajfion with which he heard and related every thing, that deceived both himfelf and others.
This was a falfcnefs of heart, which was only to be fully dilcover'd, by the true charity of Intercejjion.
And if people of virtue, who think as lit- tle harm of themlelves, as Siijurriis did, were often to try their fpirit by fuch an mtercejjton^ they v/ouJd often find themlelves to be luch^ as they leaft of all fufpeded.
I have laid before you, the many and great advantages of Intercejjion, You have ieen what a divine friendfhip it mull needs beget amongft Chriftians, how dear it would render all relations, and neighbours to one another; how it tends to make Clergy men j Mafters^ and ^are?itSj exemplary and perfed in all the duties of their ftation ; how certain- ly it deftroys all envy, fpight, and ill-natur'd pailiong ; how Ipeedily it reconciles all diffe- rences, and with what a piercing light it dil- covers to a man the true ftate of his heart.
Thefe coniiderations will, I hope, perfuade you to make iuch interceffion as is proper for your ftate, the conjiant^ chiej matter of your ilevotion at this hour of prayer.
CHAP.
to a Devout and Holy Life 439
CHAP. XXIL
Recommeiidtng Devotion at three o'Cloch^ cciWd in Scripture the ninth hour of the day, The fuhjeB of prayer at this hour^ is refignation Jto the divine pleafure, "The nature and duty of conformity to the will of God in all our anions and dejigns^
I Have recommended certain fnbjecls to be made the fix'd and chief matter of your Devotions, at all the hours of prayer that have been already confider'd.
As than'kfgtvi7ig^ and oblation of your felf to God, at your firfl: prayers in the morning. At nine^ the great virtue of Chriftian humi'- lity is to be the chief part of your petitions ; at twelve^ you are calTd upon to pray for all the graces of univerfal love^ and to raife it in your heart by fuch general and particular i;;- tercejjionsy as your own itate, and relation to other people, feem more particularly to re- quire of you.
At this hour of the afternoon, you are de- fir'd to confider the neceffity of rejignation and conformity to the will of God, and to make this great virtue the principal matter of your prayers.
There Is nothing "doife^ or holy^ or jtif^ but the great will of God. This is as ftridly true
Ff 4 ia
44 o A Serious Call
in the mcft rigid fenfe, as to fay, that no^ thing is infinite and eternal but' God.
No beings therefore, whether in Heaven, or on earth, can be wife, or holy, orjuft, but lb fir as they conform to this will of God. It is conformity to this will, that gives virtue and perfection to the hi2;heft fervices of anQxls in Heaven ; and it is conformity to the fame will, that makes the ordinary aftions of men on earth, become an acceptable fervice unto God.
The whole nature of virtue confifts in con- forming, and the whole nature of vice in de- clining from the will of God. All God's creatures are created to fulfil his will ; the Sun and Mcon obey his will, by the neceflity of their nature^ ^;;^ by the perfeftion of their nature : If there- fore you would fliew your felf not to be a rebel ^nd apojiate from the order of the crea- tion, you muft aft like beings both above and below you ; it muft be the great defire of your foul, that God's will may be done by vou on earth, as it is done in heaven. It rnuft be the lettled purpofe and intention of your heart, to will nothing, dejign nothing, do nothing, but fo far as you have rcafon to believe, that it is the will of God, that you fliould lb defire, dcfign and do.
'Tis as juft and ncceffary to live in this ftate of heart,' to think thus of God and your felf, as to think that you have any depen- ^ancf' uiDon ^' * is as great a rebel-
I lioa
to a Devout and Holy Life. 4^1
lion againft God, to think that your will may ever differ from his, as to think that you have not received the povv^er of wiHing from him.
You are therefore to confider your felf as a being, that has no other bufinefs in the world, but to be that which God requires you to be ; to have no tempers, no rules of your own, to feek no felf-defigns, or felf-ends, but to fill fome place^ and aft fome fart in ftricl confor- mity, and thankful refignation to the divine pleaJure.
To think that you are your own, or at your own difpofal, is as ablurd as to think that you created, and can preferve your felf. It is as plain and neceflary a firit principle, to believe you are thus God's, that you thus be- long to him, and are to ad and liaffer all in a thankful refignation to his pleafure, as to be- lieve, that in him you Uve^ and fnove^ and have your being,
Rejtgnation to the divine will , fignifies a chearful approbation, and thankful acceptance of every thing that comes from God. It is not enough patiently to fubmit, but we muft thankfully receive, and fully approve of every thing, that by the order of God's providence happens to us.
For there is no realbn why we fliould be patient, but what is as good and fl:rong a rea- lbn why w^e fliould be thankful. If we were under the hands of a v/ife and good "T^hyftcian^ that could not miftake, or do any thing to as, but what certainly tended to our benefit ;
it
44- ^ Serious Call
it would not be enough to be patient, and abftain from murmuring againft fuch a Phyfi- cian; but it would be as great a breach of duty and gratitude to him, not to be pleas'd and thankful for what he did, as it would be to murmur at him.
Now this is our true ftate with relation to God ; we can't be faid fo much as to believe in him, unlefs we believe him to be of injinitc wifdom. Every argument therefore for pati- ence under his difpofal of us, is^ as ftrong an argument for approbation and thankfulnefs for every thing that he does to us. And there needs no more to difpole us to this gra- titude towards God , than a full belief in him, that he is this being of infinite wifdom, love and goodneis.
Do but affent to this truth, in the fame manner as you affent to things of which you have no doubt, and then you will chearfully approve of every thing, that God has already approved for you.
For as you cannot poflibly be pleas'd with the behaviour of any perfon towards you, but becaufe it is for your good, is wife in its felf, and the effed of his love and goodnefs to- wards you; fo when you are fatisfy'd that God does not only do that which is wife, and good, and kind, but that which is the effed of an infinite wifdom and love in the care of you ; it will be as neceffary, whilft you have this faith, to be thankful and pleas'd with
every
I
to a Devout and Holy Life. 443
every thing which God chufes for you, as to wifii your own happineis.
Whenever therefore you find your felf diC- pos'd to tmeafinefs^ or tnurmunng at any thing, that is the efFed of God's providence over you, you rnuft look upon your felf as denying ei- ther the wifdom or goodnels of God. For every complaint neceifarily fuppolcs this. You would never complain of your nelghhoiir^ but that you fuppole you can Ihew either his iinw'tfej unjujiy or unkind behaviour towards you.
Now every murmuring, impatient reflexi- on under the providence of God, is the lame accufation of God. A complaint always fup- pofes /// tifage.
Hence alio you may fee the great neceffity and piety of this thankful ftate of heart, bc- caufe the want of it implies an accufation of God's want either of wildom, or goodnefs, in his difpofal of us. It is not therefore any high degree of perfection, founded in any uncommon nicety of thinking, or rejin'd noti- ons^ but a plain principle, founded in this plain belief, that God is a being of infinite wifdom and goodnels.
Now this refignation to the divine will, may be confider'd in two refpeds • Vtrji^ As it fignifies a thankful approbation of God's general providence over the world : Secondly ^ As it fignifies a thankful acceptance of his f articular providence over us,
Virjiy
444 ^ Serious Call
Fir/lj Every man is by the law of his crea- tion/by the firft article of his creed, obliged to confent to, and acknowledge the wifdoni and goodncfs of God, in his general frov't- dence over the whole world. He is to believe that it is the effed of God*s great wifdom and goodnefs, that the world it felf was fotm'd at fuch a particular time, and in iuch a manner. That the general order of nature, the whole frame of things, is contrived and form'd in the beft manner. He is to believe that God's providence over ftates and kingdoms, times and feafcns, is all for the beft. That the re- volutions of ftate, and changes of empire, the rife and fall of monarchies, perfecutions, wars, famines, and plagues, are all permitted, and conduded by God's providence, to the general good of man in this ftate of trial.
A o:ood man is to believe all this, with the fame fulnefs of aflent, as he believes that God is in every place, though he neither fees, nor can comprehend the manner of his pre- fence.
This is a noble magnificence of thought, a true religious greatnels of mind, to be thus ^ffefted with God's general providence, admi- ring and magnifying his wifdom in all things ^ never murmuring at the courfe of the world, or the ftate of things, but looking upon all around, at heaven and earth, as a pleased fpedlator ; and adoring that invifible hand , which gives laws ta all motions^ and over^
rules
to a Tje'voni and Holy Life. 44^
rules all events to ends fuitablc to the higheft wilclom and p;oodncfs.
It is very common for people to allow them- felves great liberty in finding fault with fuch things, as have only God for their caufe.
Every one thinks he may jullly fay, what a wretched^ ahominahle climate he lives in. This man is frequently telling you, what a difmal^ ciirfed day it is, and what intolerable feajtius we have. Another thinks he has very little to thank God for, that it is hardly worth his while to live in a world fo full of changes and revolutions. But thefe are tempers of great impiety, and fhew that religion has not yet its feat in the heart of thole that have them.
It founds indeed much better to murmur at the courfe of the world, or the ftate of things, than to murmur at providence ; to complain of the fealbns and weather, than to complain of God ; but if thefe have no other caufe but God and his providence, it is a poor diftindion to lay, that you are only angry at the things, but not at the caufe and diredor of them.
How j acred the whole frame of the world is, how all things are to be confider'd as God's, and referred to him, is fully taught by our bleffed Lord in the cafe of oaths : But I fay tint 0 you ^ Swear not at all \ neither by heaven J for it is God's throne j • 'd?-
nor by the earthy for it is his foot jlool '^ neither hj Jerufale?7Jy for it is the city of the great
King ;
/^^6 A Serious Call
K'tug ; neither jh^lt thoufwear hy thy head^ be'-' cauje thou cavfi not make one hair zvhite or black ; that IS, becaufe the whitenefs or blacknefs of thy hair is not thine, but God's.
Here you fee all things in the whole order of nature, from the higheft heayens to the fmalleft hair, are always to be confidered, not feparately as they are in themfelves, but as in Ibme relation to God. And if this be good reafoningj thou Ihalt not fwear by the earthy a r//v, or thy ha'tr^ becaufe thefe things are God's, and in a certain manner belong to him; is it not exactly the lame reafoning to fay, Thou fhalt not murmur at the feaj'ons of the earth, the ftates of cities, and the change of funes^ becaufe all thefe things are in the hands of God, haye him for their Author, are di- rected and governed by him to fuch ends, as are moft fui table to his wife Providence ?
If you think you can murmur at the ftate of things without murmuring at Providence, or complain of feafons without complaining of God ^ hear what our blelTed Lord fays farther upon oaths: Whofo Jhall Jhear by Mat.xxiiL2o. ^^^ altar, feveareth by it, and by all things thereon : and whofo Jhall fwear by the temple, Jwcareth by him that dwelleth therein : and he that Jhall fwear by heaven, fwear eth by the throne of God, and by hitn that fitteth thereon.
Now does not this Scripture plainly oblige us to reafon after this manner : Whofo mur- murs at the courfe of the world, murmurs at
God
to a Devout and Holy Life. ^^y
God that governs the courfe of the world. Wholb repines at fcajons and weather^ and fpeaks impatiently of times and events, re- pines and fpeaketh impatiently of God, who is the Ible Lord and Governor of tmes^ fea^ fons^ and events.
As therefore when we think of God himfelf, we are to have no fentiments but of praife and thankfgiving ; fo when we look at thole things which are under the direftion of God, and governed by his Providence, we are to re- ceive them with the fame tempers of praife and gratitude.
And though we are not to think all things right, and juft, and lawful, which the Provi- dence of God permits ; for then nothing could be unjuft, becaufe nothing without his permil- fion : yet we muft adore God in the greateft publick calamities, the molt grievous perle- cutions, as things that are fuffer'd by God, like plagues and famines^ for ends fuitable to his wifdom and glory in the government of the w^orld.
There is nothing more luitable to the piety of a reafonable creature, or the fpirit of a Chrillian, than thus to approve, admire, and glorify God in all the acts of his general Pro- vidence: confidering the whole world as his particular family, and all events as directed by his wifdom.
Every one feems to confent to this, as an undeniable truth. That all things mufl be as Qod pleafes j and is not this enough to make
every
44^ ^ Serious C A L t
every man pleased with them himfelf? And how can a man be a peevifh complainer of any thing that is the cffcd of Providence, but by Ihewing that his own /elf-will and felf-wlfdom is of more v/cight with him, than the will -and wildom of God ? And what can Religion be faid to have done for a man, whofe heart is in this ftate ?
For if he cannot thank and praife God, as \vell in calamities and fufferings, as in profpe- rity and happinefs, he is as far from the piety of a Chriftian, as he that only loves them that love him, is from the charity of a Chriftian, For to thank God only for fuch things as you like, is no more a proper a6t of piety, than to believe only what you fee, is an aft of faith.
Refignation and thankfgiving to God are only ads of piety, when they are afts o^faithj trp.fi and conjidence in the divine Goodnels.
The faith of Abraham was an aft of true piety, becaufe it ftopp'd at no difficulties, was not altered or leflen'd by any human appear- ances. It firft of all carry'd him, againft all fliew of happinefs, from his own kindred and country, into a ftrange land, not hiowtng whl^ ther he went. It afterwards made him againft all appearances of nature, when his body was dead^ when he was about an hundred years old^ depend upon the promife of God, being fully ferjiiadedy that -what God had promts' d^ he was able to perform. It was this fame faith, that againft fo many ple^s of nature^ io many- appear-
to a Devout and Holy Life. 4^j(j
?^pearances of reafon, prevaird upon him to
oj^er up Jfcuic accountinz that ^t . .
God zvas able to raije him up jrom ^
the dead.
Now this faith is the true pattern of Chri- ftian refignation to the divine pleafure; you are to thank and praife God, not only for things agreeable to you, that have the appear- ance of happinefs and comfort * but when you are like Abraham^ called from all appearances of comfort, to be a pilgrim in a ftrange land, to part with an only Jon ; being as fully perfua- ded of the divine Goodnefs in all things that happen to you, as Abraham was of the divine promile, w^hcn there was the leaft appearance of its being performed.
This is true Chriftian refignation to God, v^'hich rerjuires no more to the fupport of it, than fuch a plain affurance of the goodnefs of God, as Abraham had of his veracity. And if you ask yourielf, what greater reafon Abra^ ham had to depend upon the divine Veracity, than you have to depend upon the divine Goodnefs, you will find that none can be given.
You cannot therefore look upon this as aa unneceffary, high pitch of perfection, fince the want of it implies the want not of any high notions, but of a plain and ordinary faith in the moft certain doctrines both of natural and reveal'd religion.
Thus much concerning refignation to the divine Will; as it fignifies a thankful appro-
G g bation
4^0 A Serious Call
bation of God's general frov/der/ce : It is now to be confider'd, as it fignilies a thankful ac- ceptance of God's particular frov'idencc over us.
Every man is to conlider himfelf as a par- ticular objeft of God's providence \ under the fame care and protection of God, as if the world had been made for him alone. It is not by chance that any man is born at fuch a fime^ of fuch parents^ and in fuch flace and coUiVit'wn. It is as certain, that every foul comes into the body at fuch a time, and in fuch circumftances, by the exprefs defignraent of God, according Mofomepurpofes of his will, and for Ibme particular ends ^ this is as certain, as that it is by the exprefs defignment of God^ that fome beings are Jngehy and others are men.
It is as much by the counfel and eternal purpofe of God, that you fhould be born in your particular ftate, and that Ifaac fhould be the fon of Jhraham^ as that Gabriel ihould be an Jngely and Ifaac a man.
The Scriptures aiTure us, that it was by di- vine appointment, that our blelTed Saviour was born at Bethlehem^ and at fuch a time. Now' altho' it was owing to the dignity of his per- fon, and the great importance of his birth, that thus much of the divine counfel was de- clared to the world concerning the time and manner of it; yet we are as fure from the fame Scriptures, that the time and manner of every man's coming into the world, is accord- ing to fome eternal purpofes and direB'wn of
Diving
to a Deposit and Holy Life. 451
Divine Providence, and mfuch t'lme^ and flace^ and arcumftances^ as are direfted and governed by God for particular ends of his wildom and goodneis.
This we are as certain of from plain revela- tion, as we can be of any thing. For if we are told, that not a fparrow falleth to the ground ivitbcut our heavenly Father ; can any thing more ftrongly teach us, that much greater beings, fuch as human Ibuls^ come not into the world without the care and diredion of our heavenly Father ? If it is faid, the very hatrs of your head are all number' d'^ is it not to teach us, that nothing, not xh^fmalleft things imaginable, happen to us by chance? But if the imalleft things we can conceive, are declared to be under the divine diredion, need we, or can we be more plainly taught, that the great- eft things of life, fuch as the manner of our coming into the world, our parents^ the thney and other circumjlances of our birth and con- dition, are all according to the eternal purpofes^ dtreBhn and appointment of Divine Provi- dence?
When the dilciples put this queftion to our bleffed Lord concerning the blind xnanyfaying^ Majier^ who did fin^ this man^ or his parentSy that he was born blind? He that was the eter- nal Wifdom of God made this anfwer. Neither hath this man finned^ nor his pa-- t h ' - rents'^ but that the works of God - 'l-
Jhould be m.ade v^anifeft in him. Pliiinly ^Jecla- ring, that the particular circumltances of .:v^cry G g 2 man's
^t^2 A Serious C a iTl
man's birth, tlic body that he received, arrd the condition and ftate of life into which he is bom, arc appointed by a fccret Providence, which directs all things to their particular tnnes ^nd [eafons^ and manner of exiftence^ that the wifdom and works of God may be made ma- nifcft in them all.
As therefore it is thu3 certain, that we are what we are, as to birth, time, and condition of entring into the world ; fince all that is particular in our ftate, is the effeft of God's particular piovidence over us^ and intended for fome particular ends both of his glory and our own happinefs, we are by the greateft obliga* tions of gratitude, called upon to conform and refign our will to the will of God in all thefe refpefts; thankfully approving and accepting every thing that is particular in our ftate. Praifing and glorifying his name for our birth of fuch parents^ and in fuch clrcumfiances of ftate and condition ; being fully affur'd, that it was for fome reaibns of infinite wifdom and goodnefs, that we were lb born into fuch par- ticular ftates of life.
If the man above-mention'd , was born blind, that the works of God might be mani' fefted In hlmy had he not great realbn to prailc God, for appointing him in fuch a particular manner, to be the inftrument of his Glory ? And if one perfbn is born herej and another there \ if one falls amongft riches ^ and ano- ther into poverty ; if one receives his flefti and blood from thefe parents^ and another
from
to a Devout a?Hl Holy Life, 453
fit)m thofe, for as particular ends, as the man was born blind ; have not all people the great- efl reafon to blefsGod, and to be thanklbl for their f articular ft ate and cond'itwn^ becaufe all that is particular in it, is as directly intended for the glory of God, and their own good, as the fiirticuhtr hl'indnefs of that man, who was lb born, that the works of God might be mani-^ jefted in h'lm ?
How noble an idea does this give us of the divine Omnifcience prefiding over the whole world, and governing fuch a long chain and combination of feemtng accidents and chan- ces, to the common and particular advantage of all beings ? So that all perlbns, in fuch a wonderful variety of caufes, accidents and events , fhould all fall into fuch particular ftates, as were forefeen , and fore-ordain'd to their beft advantage, and lb as to be moft ier- viceable to the wife and glorious ends of God's government of all the world.
Had you been any thing elfe than what you are, you had, all things confider'd, been lefs wifely provided for than you are now; you had wanted fome circumftances and con- ditions, that are beft fitted to make you hap- py your felf, and ierviceablc to the glory of God.
Could you fee all that which God ^zts^ all that happy chain of caufes and motives which are to move and invite you to a right courfe €>i life, you would fee fomcthing to make
Gg 3 you
4154 -^ Serious C A L £
you like that Hate you arc in, as fitter for yot! than any other.
Bat as you cannot fee this, fb it is here that your Chriftian faith and truji in God, i^ to exercife it felf, and render you as gratefal and thankful for the happinefs of your ftate, as if you law every thing that contributes to it with your own eyes.
But now if this is the cafe of every man in the world, thus blcffed with fome particular ftate that is moft convenient for him, how reafonable is it for every man to will that which God has already wilFd for him? And by a pious ftith and truft in the divine good- nefs, thankfully adore and magnify that wife providence, which he is fure has made the beft choice for him of thofe things, which he could not chufe for himfelf.
Every uneafinefs at our own ftate, is found- ed upon comparing it with that of other peo- ple. Which is full as unreafonable, as if a man in a dropfy ftiould be angry at thofe that prefcribe different things to him, from thofe which are prefcrib'd to people in health. For all the different ftates of li^^e are like the diffe- rent ftates of dijhafes^ what is a remedy to one man in his ftate, may be poifon to another.
So that to murmur becaufe you arc not as fome others are, is as if a man in one difeafe ftiould murmur that he is not treated like him that is in another, Whereas if he >vas to
hav^
40 a Dcruout aficl Holy Life. 455
have his will, he would be kfird by that, which will prove the cure of another.
It is juft thus in the various conditions of life; if you give your felf up to uncafinefs, or complain at any thing in your ftatc, you may, for ought you know, be ib ungrateful to God, as to inurmur at that very thing, which is to prove the caufe of your lalva- tion.
Had you it in your power to get that which you think it lb grievous to want^ it might perhaps be that very thing, which of all others, would moft expofe you to eternal damnation.
So that whether we confider the infinite goodnefs of God, that cannot chufe amifs lor us, or our own great ignorance of what is moft advantageous to us , there can be no* ^hing fo rcalbnable and pious, as to have no will but that of God's, and defire nothing for our ielves, in our ferjons^ our flate^ and con^ ditioHy but that which the goo(i providence of God appoints us.
Farther, as the good providence of God thus introduces us into the world, into u-ch. ftates and conditions of lii'e, as are moft con^ v^nient for us, lb the Hime unerring wiidom orders all events and changes in the whole courfe of our lives, in fuch a manner, as co render them the ficteft means to exercife and iinprov^ our virtue.
Gg 4 Nothing
4
A Serious Call
Nothing hurts us, nothing deftroys us, but the ill ufe of that liberty, with which God has entrufted us.
We are as fure that nothing happens to us by chance, as that the world it lelf was not made by chance ; w^e are as certain that all things happen, and work together for our good, as that God is goodnefs it lelf. So that a mail has as much realbn to will every thing that happens to him, becauie God wills it, as to think that is wifeft, which is directed by infinite wifdom.
This is not cheating or foothing our felves into any falle content, or imaginary happi- nefs ; but is a fatisfadion grounded upon as great a certainty, as the being and attributes of God.
For if we are right in believing God to act over us with infinite wifdom and goodnefs, we cannot carry our notions of conformity and refignation to the divine will too high ; nor can we ever be deceived, by thinking that to be beft for us, which God has brought up- on us.
For the providence of God is not more con- cerned in the government of night and ^ay^ and the variety oi feafons^ than in the com- mon courfe of events, that fcem moft to de- pend upon the mere wills of micn. So that \t is as ftriclly right, to look upon all worldly accidents and changes, all the various turns and alterations in your own life, to be as truly the eficds of Diving Pjovidence^ as the rifing
and
to a Ve^ont and Holy Life. 4^7
tind fetting of the Sun, or the alterations of the feafons of the year. As you are therefore always to adore the wildom of God in the di- reftion of thefe things ; i^o it is the lame rea- Ibnable duty, always to magnify God, as an equal Direftor of every thing that happens to you in the courfe of your own hfe.
This holy refignation and conformity of your will to the will of God, being l^o much the true ttatc of piety, I hope you will think it proper to make this hour of prayer, a con- ftant feafon of applying to God for fb great a gift. That by thus conftantly praying for it, your heart may be habitually difpos'd to- wards it, and always in a ftate of readinefs to look at every thing as God's, and to cqnfider him in every thing ; that fo every thing that befals you, may be received in the fpirit of piety, and made a means of exercifing fome virtue.
There is nothing that fb powerfully governs the heart, that i^o ftrongly excites us to wife and reafbnable actions, as a true fenfe of God's frejence. But as we cannot fee, or apprehend the elTence of God, ^o nothing will lb con- ftantly keep us under a lively fenie of the prefence of God, as this holy refignation, which attributes every thing to him, and re- ceives every thing as from him.
Could we fee a miracle from God , how would our thoughts be affected with an holy avye and veneration of his pretence ! But if we confider eyery thing as God's doing, either
45S
A SerioHs Call
by order or permilTion, wc fhall then be aC- fcded with common things y as they would be who law a mtracle.
For as there is nothing to affed you in a miracle, but as it is the a^tm of God, and befpeaks his prejence ; Ilo when you confidcr God, as aBing in all things, and all events, then all things will become venerable to you, \\kc mtrctcles^ and fill you with the fame aw- ful fentimcnts of the divine prefence.
Now you muft not referve the exercife of this pious temper, to any particular times or occafions, or fancy hovv^ refign'd you Vvill be to God, if luch or llich trials fhould happen. For this is amufing your felf with the notion or idea of refignation, inftead of the virtue it felf.
Don't therefore pleafe your felf with think- ing, how pi oufly you would act and fubmit to God in a plague^ a jamtne^ or ferfeciitlon^ but be intent upon the perfection of the prefent day; and be affury, that the belt way of fhewing a true zeal^ is to make Vtttle things the occafions of great piety.
Begin therefore in the fmallefl: matters, ^nd moft ordinary occafions, and accuftom your mind to the daily exercife of this pious temper, in the loweft occurrences of life. And when a contempt^ an afront^ a little Injury^ lofsy or difappointmenty or the fnialleft events of every day, continually raife your mind to God in proper ads of refignation, then you may juftly hope, that you fhall be number'd
amongft
to ^ VcvoHt and Holy Life, 4159
amongft thofe that are refiga'd and thankful to God in the grcatcll trials and afflictions.
CHAP. XXIIL
Of Evening prayer. Of the iiattire and jiecejfity of cxaminatmu How we are to he particular in the coffejjion of all our Jins. How , we are to fill our fninds with a jujf horror and dread of all fin.
I Am now come to fix o'clock in the even- ing, which according to tlie Scripture ac- count, is caird the twelfth, or lafi hour of the day. This is a time fo proper for Devo- tion, that I fuppofe nothing need be faid to recommend it as a fealbn of prayer, to all people that profefs any regard to piety.
As the labour and action of every Hate of life is generally over at this hour, fo this is the proper time for every one to call himfelf to account, and review all his behaviour, from the firft aftion of the day. The ncceffity of this examination, is founded upon the nccet fity of repentance. For if it be necelTary to repent of all our fins, if the guilt of unre-e pented fins Hill continues upon us, then it is neceflary, not only that all our fins, but the particular circumftances and aggravations of
them,
4^o A Serious Call
them, be known and rccolkfted, and broxight to repentance.
The Scripture laith, If we confefs our Jtns^ . . he IS faithful ajtd jufi to forgive us
join 1. 9. oar fins ^ and to cleanfe us from all tinr'ighteoufnefs. Which is as much as to lay, that then only our fins are forgiven, and we clcansM from the guilt and unrighteoufnefs of them, when they are thus confefs'd, and re- pented of.
There feems therefore to be the greateft nc- ceffity, that all our daily aftions be conftant- ly oblerv'd, and brought to account, left by a negligence v/e load our lelves with the guilt of unrepented fins.
This examination therefore of outfelves every evening, is not only to be confider'd as a commendable rule^ and fit for a wife man to obferve, but as Ibmething that is as neceffary as a daily confeflion and repentance of bur fins- becaufe this daily repentance is of very little fignificancy, and loles all its chief bene- fit, unlefs it be a fsirttcular confejfton and re- pentance of the fins of that day. This exami* nation is neceflfaiy to repentance in the fame manner h« t'lme is necelfary ; you cannot re- pent or exprefs your forrow, unlefs you allow Ibme time for it ; nor can you repent, but lb far as you knovo what it is that you are repent- ing of. So that when it is faid, that it is ne- cefl^ary to examine and call your adions to ac- count 3 it is only laying, that it is necelfary
to
to a Vcvoiit and Holy Life. j^6i
to know whaty and hozv many things you are to repent of.
You perhaps have hitherto only ufed your lelf to confefs yourfelf a Tinner in general^ and ask forgiveneis in the grojs^ without any par^ tkular renumhrance^ or contrition for the par- ticular fins of that day. And by this pradicc you are brought to believe, that the lame fliort, general form of confedion of fin in ge- neral, is a fufficient repentance for every day.
Suppole another perJbn fhould hold, that a confeffion of our fins in general once at the end of every zveek was fufficient ; and that it was as well to confefs the fins oi feven days all to- gether, as to have a particular repentance at the end of every day.
I know you fufficiently fee the unreafonable- nefs and impiety of this opinion, and that you think it is eafy enough to ftiew the danger and folly of it.
Yet you cannot bring one argument againft fuch an opinion, but what will be as good an argument againft fuch a dally repentance^ as does not call the particular Jins of that day to a ftricl: account.
For as you can bring no cxprefs text of Scri- pture againft fuch an opinion, but muft take all your arguments from the nature of repen^ tance^ and the necelTity of a particular repen- tance for particular fins, fo every argument of that kind, muft as fully prove the neceflity of being very particular in our repentance of the fins of every day. Since nothing can be ^uftly 2 faid
4^2 A Serious Call
liiid againft leaving the fins of the "j^hole 'Weeh to be repented for in the grofs^ but what may as juftly be laid againft a daily repentance, which confiders the fins of that day only in the grofs.
Would you tell fuch a man, that a daily confeffion was neceflfary to keep up an abhor- rence of fin, that the mind w^ould grow har- dened and fenfelefs of the guilt of fin without it ? And is not this as good a reafon for requi- ring that your daily repentance be very exprefs and particular for your daily fins? For if con- feffion is to raife an abhorrence of fin, furely that confeffion which conjiders and lays opefj your particular fins, that brings them to light wdth all their circumftances and aggravations^ that requires a particular forrowful acknow- ledgment of every fin, muft in a much greater degree fill the mind wuth an abhorrence of fin, than that w^hich only in ofie and the Jhne jorm of words confefljbs you only to be a finner in general. For as this is nothing but what the greateji Saint may juftly fay of himfelf, fo the daily repeating of only fuch a confeffion, has nothing in it to make you truly afliamed of your own way of life.
Again ; muft you not tell fuch a man, that by leaving himfelf to fuch a weekly^ general confeffion, he would be in great danger of for- getting a great many of his fins ? But is there any fenle or force in this argument, unlefs you fuppofe that our fins are all to be remembered, and brought to a partiguUr repentance ? And
to a Devout and Holy Life. /^6:^
is it not as necclTary, that our particular fins be not forgotten, but particularly remcmbcr'd ia our daily, as in a repentance at any other time?
So that every argument for a daily confel- lion and repentance, is the lame argument for the confeffion and repentance of the partkukir fins of every day.
Becaufe daily confeffion has no other realbn or neceffity, but our daily fins; and therefore is nothing of what it fhouki be, but fo far as it is a repentance and forrowful acknovv4edg- Bient of the fins of the day.
You would, I fuppofe , think yourfelf chargeable with great impiety, if you Vv'as to go to bed without confeffing yourfelf to be a linner, and asking pardon of God ; you would not think it fufRcient that you did ib yefter- day. And yet if without any regard to the prefent day, you only repeat the lame form of words that you ufed yeftcrday, the fins of the prefent day may juftly be looked upoa ta have had no repentance. For if the fins of the prefent day require a new confeffion, it mull be fuch a new confeffion as is proper to itfelf For it is xhcjiate and condition of eve- ry day, that is to determine the ff ate and man-^ ner of your repentance in the evening; other- wife the fame general form of words is rather an empty formality, that has the appearance of a duty, than fuch a true performance of it, as is neccflary to make it tiuly uleful to you.
4^4
A Serious C A L L
Let it be fuppofcd, that on a certain day you have been guilty of thele fins ; that you have told a vain lye upon yourfelf, alcribing fomething fallcly to yourfelf through pride ; that you have been guilty of detrahton^ and indulg'd yourfelf in fame degree of intempe- lance. Let it be fuppofed, that on the next day you have lived in a contrary manner^ that you have neglected no duty of devotion, and been the reft of the day innocently employed in your proper bufinefs. Let it be fuppofed, that on the evening of both thefe days you only ufe the fame confeflion in general^ confi- dering it rather as a duty that is to be per- form'd every night, than as a repentance that is to be fuited to the particular Ji ate oi \hQ day.
Can It with any reafbn be faid, that each day has had its proper repentance ? Is it not as good fenle to lay, there is no difference in the guilt of thefe days, as to fay that there need be no different repentance at the end of them ? Or how can each of them have its pro- per repentance, but by its having a repentance as large and extenlive, and particular, as the guilt of each day ?
Again, let it be fuppos'd, that in that day, when you had been guilty of the three noto- rious fins abovc-mention'd, that in your even- ing repentance, you had only caird one of them to mind. Is it not plain, that the other two are unrepented of, and that therefore their guilt Hill abides upon you? So that
you
to a De^/oHt and Holy Life. 4^5
y^u are then in the ftate of him, who com- mits himfclf to the night without the repen- tance for fuch a day, as had betray'd him into two fach great fins.
Now thefe are not needlefs particulars, or fuch fcrupulous niceties, as a man need not trouble himlelf about; but arc fuch plain truths, as efTentially concern the very life of piety. For if repentance is ncceffary, it is full as neceffary that it be rightly performed, and in due manner.
And I have entered into all thefe particulars^ only to fhew you in the plaineft manner, that examination^ and a careful review of all the aftions of the day, is not only to be looked upon as a good rule, but as iomething as ne- cefTary as repentance itfelf.
If a man is to account for his expcnccs at night, can it be thought a needlefs exaclneis in him, to taJce notice of every particular ex^ pence in the day ?
And if a man is to repent of his fins at flight, can it be thought too great a piece of Icrupulofity in him, to know and call to mind what fins he is to repent of?
Farther ; tho' it Ihould be granted, that a confeffion in general may be a lufficient repen- tance for the end of fuch days, as have only the unavoidable frailties of our nature to la- ment; yet even this fully proves the abfolute neceffity of this felf-examination : for with- out this examination, who can know that he has gone thro' any day in this maaner ?
H h Again J
/^66 A SerioHs Call
Again : An evening repentance, which thus brings all the actions of the day to account, is not only ncceiiiuy to wipe off the guilt of fin, but is alio the moft certain way to amend and perfed our lives.
For it is only luch a repentance as this, that touches the heart, awakens the confcience, and leaves an horror and deteftation of fin upon the mind.
For inftance: If it fhould happen, that up- on any particular evening, all that you could charge yourielf w^ith Ihould be this, viz. a i)a/Iy^ negligent performance of your devotions, or too much time fpent in an impertinent con-' verfatwn'^ \^ the unrealbnablenels of thefe things were fully refleded upon, and acknow- ledged ; if you was then to condemn yourfelf before God for them, and implore his pardon and affifting grace, what could be fo likely a means to prevent your falling into the lame faults the next day ?
Or if you fhould fall into them again the next day ; yet if they were again brought to the fame examination and condemnation in the prefence of God, their happening again would be fuch a proof to you of your own folly and weakncfs^ would caufe liich a pain and remorfc in your mind, and fill you with fuch fijame and confujion at yourfelf, as would in all probability make you exceedingly defirous of greater perfection.
Now in the cafe of repeated fins, this would be the certain benefit that we fliould
receiy^
to a ^cvoHt and Holy Life. 4^7
receive from this examination and confellion ; the mind would thereby be made humble, full of forrow and deep compunction, and by- degrees forced into amendment.
Whereas a jormal^ general confefHon, that is only confider'd as an evening duty, that overlooks the particular miftakes of the day, and is the fame whether the day be Ipent ill or well, has little or no effed upon the mind ; a man may ufe fuch a daily confeflion, and yet go on finning and confeffing all his life, with- out any remorfe of mind, or true defire of amendment.
For if your own particular fins are left out of your confeflion, your confeffing of fin in general has no more effed upon your mind, than if you had only confefs'd, that all men in general 2st Jinners, And there is nothing in any confeflion to fliew that it is yours, but fo far as it is a fclf-accnfatlonj not of fin in general, or fuch as is common to all others, h\xt o? i\\c\\ particular Jins^ as are your own proper fiame and reproach.
No other confeflion, but fuch as thus dilco- vers and accufes your own particular guilt, can be an act of true forrow, or real concern at your own condition. And a confeflion that is without this forrow and compundion of heart, has nothing in it either to atone for pafl: fins, or to produce in us any true refor- mation and amendment of life.
To proceed ; in order to make this exami- jR^tJLQa ftill farther beneficial, every m^n fiioul4
K h ^ oblige
X^6^ A Serious C A L L
oblige himlelf to a certain method in it. As every man has Ibmething particular in his na- ture, ftrongcr inclinations to fome vices than others, Ibme infirmities that Jiick clofer to him, and are harder to be conquered than others; and as it is as caly for every man to know this of himfelf, as to know whom he likes, or diflikes; fo it is highly neceflary, that thefe particularities of our natures and tempers fliould never efcape a fevere trial at our evening repentance : I fay, 2i fevere trial^ becaule nothing but a rigorous feverity againft thefe natural tempers, is fufficient to conquer them.
They are the right eyes^ that are not to be fpared ; but to be plucked out and caft from us. For as they are the infirmities of nature, fo they have the ftrength of nature, and mull be treated with great oppofition, or they will loon be too ftrong for us.
He therefore who knows himfelf moft of all fubjed to aiiger and pajjion^ mull be very €xa^ and conflant in his examination of this temper every evening. He mull find out every flip that he has made of that kind, whether in thought, or word, or aftion; he nwx^Jhame^ and reprdach^ and accufe himfelf before God, for every thing that he has laid or done in obedience to his paffion. He muft no more allow himfelf to forget the examina- tion of this temper, than to forget his whole prayers.
Again £
to a T)e
Again ; if you find that vanity is your pre-? vailing temper, that is always putting you upon the adornment oi^yonr perlbn, and catch- ing after every thing that compliments ox ■flat" ters your abilities, never fpare or forget this temper in your evening examination ; but con- fels to God every vanity of thought, or word, or adion, that you have been guilty of, and put your lelf to all the Ihame and confufion for it that you can.
In this manner fliould all people aft with regard to their chief frailty^ to which their na- ture moft inclines them. And though it Ihould not immediately do all that they would wifh, yet by a conftant praftice it would cer- tainly in a fhort time produce its defir'd ef- feft.
Farther ; as all ftates and employments of life have their particular dangers and tempt a^ tionsy and expofe people more to Ibme fins than others, fo every man that wifhes his own improvement, fliould make it a necejfliry part of his evening examination, to confider how he has avoided, or fallen into fuch fins as are moft common to his ftate of life.
For as our bufinels and condition of life has great power over us, \o nothing bat fuch watchfulnefs as this, can fccurc us from thole temptations to which it daily expoles us.
The poor man^ from his condition of life,
is always in danger of repining and uneajinefs ;
the rich man is moft exposed to JenfuaVtty and
indulgence j the trade] man to lying and anrea^
Hh 3 fonahk
^
f
470 A ScnoHs Call, |
fonahle gains ; the fcholar to pride and vanity \ fo that in every ftate of life, a man ftiould al-. ways, in his examination of himfelf, have a ilrid eye upon thole faults, to which his ftate of life moft of all expoles him.
Again; as it is reaibnable to fuppofe, that every good man has entered into, or at leaft proposed to himfelf y5/;2^ method of holy living, and fet himfelf iovc\cfuch rules to obferve, as are not common to other people, and only known to himfelf; fo it fhould be a conftant part of his night recollection , to examine how, and in what degree, he has obferv'd them, and to reproach himfelf before God, for* every neglect of them.
By rules, I here mean, fuch rule? as relate to the well-ordering of our tlme^ and the bu^ Jinefs of our common life. Such rules as pre- fcribe a certain order to all that we are to do, our hiijinejsy devotion^ mortifications^ readings^ retiretnents^ converfation^ mealsy refrejhrncntSy Jleep^ and the like.
Now as good rules relating to all theft things, are certain means of great improve- TD.ent, and fuch as all ferious Chriftians muft needs propofe to themfelvcs, fo they will hardly ever be oblervM to any purpole, unlefs they are made the coiipant fahjedi of our even- ing examination.
Lajily^ You are not to content your felf with a hafiy general review of the day, but you muft^ enter upon it with deliberation;
begin
to a DezfOHt and Holy 'Life, 471
begin with the frft aB'ion of the day, and proceed ftep by ftep, through every particular matter that you have been concern'd in, and fo let no time^ place ^ or afiwn be over- lookYl.
An examination thus managed, will in a little time make you as different from your felf, as a wtfe man is different from an ideot. It will give you llicha newnels of mind, iiich a Ipirir of wiidom, and defire of perfecti- on , as you was an entire ftranger to be- fore.
Thus much concerning the evening examU nation.
I proceed now to lay before you fuch con- fiderations, as may fill your mind with a jnft dread and horror of all fin, and help you to confefs your own in the moft paffionatc con- trition, and Ibrrow of heart.
Confider firtt, how odious all fin is to God, what a mighty bafenefs it is, and how abo- miinable it renders finners in the fight of God. That it is fin alone that makes the great dif- ference betwixt an angel, and the devil ; and that every finner is, ib far as he fins, a friend of the devil's , and carrying on his work a- gainffc God. That fin is a greater blemifli and defilement of the foul, than any filth or dil- cafe is a defilement of the body. And to be content to live in fin, is a much greater bafe-. nefs, than to defire to wallow in the mire, or love any bodily impurity.
Hh 4 Con^
AJ2 A Serious Call
Confider how you muft abhor a creature that delighted in nothing but filth and nalH- nefsy that hated every thing that was decent and clean ^ and let this teach you to appre- hend, how odious that foul that delights in nothing but the impurity of fin, muft appear unto God.
For all fins, whether of fenfuahtf^ fridcy ox faljenepj or any other irregular paffion, are nothing elfe but the filth, and impure diicafes of the rational foul. And all righteoulhefs is nothing elfe but the /^/r//"/, xh^ decejicy^ the heauty and ferfeB'wu of that fpirit, which is made in the image of God.
Again ; learn what horror you ought to have for the guilt of fin, from the greatnef^ of that attonement which has been made lor it.
God made the world by the Ijreath of his ;nouth, by a word fpeaking; but the redem- ption of the world has been a work of longer labour.
How eafily God can create beings, we learn from the firft chapter of Genejjs j but how dif- ficult it is for infinite mercy to forgive fins, we learn from that cofily attonement^ thole lioody fcicr'ijices^ thoie fahu and penances^ thole Jlcknejfes and deaths^ which all muft be under- gone, before the guilty finner is fit to appear in the prefence of God.
Ponder tUei'e great truths : That the Son of God was forc'd to become man, to h^ parta- jfcer of all our infirmities j to undergo a poor,
pain-
to a De
painful, miferablc, and contemptible life, to be perfecuted, hated, and at laft naiPd to a Crofs, that by fuch lufferings he might ren- der God propitious to that nature in which he ihffer'd.
That all the bloody facrifices and attone- ments of the jfezoi/h Law, were to reprelent the neceflity of this g?^eat fa c rife e^ and the great dijpleaflire God bore to finners.
That the world is Itill under the airfe of fin, and certain marks of God's dilpleafure at it \ fuch ^s famines^ plagues j tcnipefis^ fi^^^'^f^^y dijeafes and death.
Confider that all the fons of Jdam are to go through a painful, fickly life, denying and mortifying their natural appetites, and cru- (:ifying the lufts of the fleili, in order to have a Ihare in the attonement of our Saviour's death.
That all their penances and felf-denials, all their tears and repentance, are only made available by that great Interceflion, which is. ftill making for them at the right hand of Gpd,
Confider thefe great truths; that this ?nyf{e- r toils redemption^ all theicJcKriJices and JaZ/z-r- ingSj both of God and man, are only to re- move the guilt of fin ; and then let this teach you with what tears and contrition , you ought to purge your felf from it.
After this general confideration of the guilt of fin, which has done fo much mifcluef to your nature, and exposed it to lb great pu-
nilhment,
474 ^ Serious Call
niilimcn^, and made it fb odious to God, that nothing lefs than lb great an attonement of the Son of God, and fo great repentance of our own, can reftore us to the divine fa- vour ;
Confider next your own parikular Jhare in the guilt of fin. And if you would know with what zeal you ought to repent your felf, confider how you would exhort another finner to repentance; and what repentance and amendment you would expcd from him , whom you judg'd to be the greateji jinner in the world.
^ Now this caie every man may juftly reckon to be his own. And you may fairly look up- on your fclf to be the great eft finner that you kncrw in the world.
For though you may know abundance of people to be guilty of fome grofs fins, with which you cannot charge your felf, yet you may juftly condemn your felf, as the greateft finner that you know. And that for thefe following rcafons :
Fir/?, Becaufe you know more of the folly of your own heart, than you do of other peo- ples ; and can charge your felf with various ftus^ that you only know of your felf, and cannot he jure that other finners are guilty of them. So that as you know more of th^fo/^ /k, the bajenejsy the pride, the deceitftibicfs and negligence of your own heart, than you do of any ones elfc, ib you bave juft reafon
to
to a Devout and Holy Life. 475
to confider your felf as the grcatcft finncr that you know: Bccaule you know more of the greatnefs of your own fins, than you do of other peoples.
Secondly^ The greatnels of our guilt arifes chiefly from the greatnels of God's goodneis towards us, from the particular graces and hJeJJings^ the favours^ the lights and inftru-^. Blons that we have received from him.
Now as thele graces and bleflings, and the multitude of God's favours towards us, are the great aggravations of our fins againft Go lb they are only known to our lelves. And tFierefore every finner knows more of the aggra- vations of his ov/n guilt, than he does of o- ther peoples ; and conlequently may juftly look upon himfelf to be the greateft {inner that he knows.
How good God has been to other finners, what light and InJlruBlon he has vouchfaPd to them ; what bleffings and graces they have received from him \ how often he has touched their hearts with holy inlpirations, you can- not tell. But all this you know of your lelf, therefore you know greater aggravations of your own guilt, and are able to charge your felf with greater ingratitude than you can charge upon other people.
And this is the reafon, why the greateji
faints have in all ages condemned themfelves
as the greateft finners, bccaule they knew
fonw
47^ ^ Serious Call
Jdme aggravatjons of their own fins, which they could not know of other peoples.
The right way therefore to fill your heart with true contrition, and a deep fenfe of your own fins, is this : You arc not to confider, or compare the outward form^ or courfe of your life, with that of other peoples, and then think your felf to be lefs finful than they, becaule the outw^ard courfe of your life is lefs finful than theirs.
But in order to know your own guilt, you mull confider your own particular circumftan- CCS, yoViX healthy your Jtcknefs^ joux youths or age J your partktdar calling, the happinefs of your education^ the degrees of Ijght and /;;- flrilBmi that you have received, the good men that you have convers'd with, the admomtt^ ons that you have had, the good hooks that you have read, the numberlefs multitude of divine hlefjings^ graces and favours that you have received, the good ^notions of grace that you have refilled, the refoht'ions of amend- ment that you have often broken, and the checks of confcience that you have difre-* garded.
For it is from thcfe circumftanccs , that every one is to ftatc the nieajure and greatnejs of his own guilt. And as you know only thele circumftanccs of your own fins, i^o you muft neceflarily know how to charge your felf with higher degrees of guilt, than yov\ can charge upon other people.
God
to a T^e'Vont and Holy Life 477
God Almighty knows greater finncrs, it may bc^ than you arc ; bccaule he lees and knows the circumftances of all mens fins : But your own heart, if it is faithful to you, can dilcover no guilt lb great as your own ; bccaule it can only lee in you thole circumftances, on which great part of the guilt of fin is found- ed.
You may fee fins in other people, that you cannot charge upon yourlelf; but then you know a number of circumftances of your own guilt, that you cannot lay to their charge.
And perhaps that perfon that appears at fuch a diftance from your virtue, and \o odi- ous in your eyes, would have been much bet- ter than you arc, had he been altogether in your circumftances, and received all the fame favours and graces from God that you have.
This is a very hiimhVing rejleBton^ and very proper for thole people to make, who meafurc their virtue, by comparing the outward courle of their lives w^ith that of other peoples.
For look at whom you will, however diffe- lent from you in his way of life, yet you can never know that he has refifted Jo ?nuch divine grace as you have; or that in all your circum- ftances, he would not have been jfizich truer to. his duty than you are.
Now this is the realbn why I defir'd you to confider, how you would exhort that man to confefs and bewail his fins, >vhom you look'd upon to be one of xho. greatejl fuiners.
Bccaule
47 8 A Serious C a L L
Becaufe if you will deal juftly, you muft fix the charge at homc^ and look no farther ih-^n yourfelf. For God has given no one any power of knowing the tr^e greatvefs of any fins, but his own ; and therefore the greateffc finner that every one hwwsy is himfelf.
You may cafily fee how fuch a one in the outward courfe of his life breaks the laws of God ; but then you can never fay, that had you been exaftly in all his circumftances, that you fhould not have broken them more than he has done.
A ferious and frequent refledion upon thefe things, will mightily tend to humble us in our own eyes, make us very apprehenfive of the greatnefs of our own guilt, and very ten- der in cenfuring and condemning other peo- ple.
For who would dare to be fevere againll other people, when for ought he can tell, the feverity of God may be more due to him, than to them ? Who would exclaim againft the guilt of others, when he confiders that he knows more of the greatnefs of his own guilt, than he does of theirs ?
How often you have refitted God's holy Spi- rit ; how many motives to goodnefs you have difregarded ; how many particular bleflings you have finn'd againfl: ; how many good refo- lutions you have broken 5 how many checks and admonitions of conlcience you have ftifled, you very well know : But how often this has been the cafe of other fiftA^rs^ yx>u know not.
And
to a Ve'Vont and Holy Life. 479
And therefore the greateft finner that you know, muft be yourlelf.
Wlienever therefore you are angry at fin or finners, whenever you read or think of God's indignation and wrath at wicked men, let this teach you to be the moft fevcre in your cenlure, and moft humble and contrite in the acknowledgment and confeffion of your own fins, becaule you know of no finner equal to yourlelf.
Lajily^ to conclude this chapter : Having thus examined and confelVd your fins at this hour of the evening, you muft afterwards look upon yourfelf, as ftill obliged to betake yourfelf to prayer again juft before you go to bed.
The fubjed that is moft proper for your prayers at that time, is death. Let your prayers therefore then be wholly upon it, rec- koning up all the dafjgers^ uncertahitles^ and terrors of death ; let them contain every thing that can affed and awaken your mind into juft apprehenfions of it. Let your petitions be all for right fentiments of the approach and impor- tance of death ; and beg of God, that your mind may be poflefs'd with fuch a Icnfc of its nearnefsj that you may have it always in your thoughts, do every thing as in fight of it, and make every day, a day for preparation for it.
Reprefent to your imagination, thiit yonr hed is your grave j that all things are ready for
vour
480 A Serious Call
your interment ; that you are to have no mofe to do with this world ; and that it will be ow- ing to God's great mercy, if you ever fee the light of the Sun again, or have another day to add to your works of piety.
^ And then commit yourfelf to fleep^ as into the hands of God ; as one that is to have no more opportunities of doing good ; but is to awake amongft fpirits that are feparate from the body, and waiting for the judgment of the laft great day.
Such a folemn rcfignatlort of yourfelf into the hands of God every evening, and parting with all the world, as if you was never to lee it any more, and all this in the filence and darknefs of the night, is a practice that will foon have excellent effefts upon your Ipirit.
For this time of the night is exceeding pro- per for luch prayers and meditations ; and the likenefs v^hichjkep and darhiefs have to death ^ will contribute very much to make your thoughts about it the more deep and affeding. So that I hope you will not let a time, fb pro- per for fuch prayers, be eyer pafs'd oyer with- out them.
CHAP.
to a Dezfout and Holy Life. 481
CHAR XXIV.
Ti^e ConcluJtotJ. Of the Excellency and Great"' fiefs of a devout Sprit.
I Have now finilh'd what I intended in this Treatife. I have explained the nature of devotion, both as it fignifies a life devoted to God, and as it fignifies a regular method of daily prayer. I have now only to add a word or two in recommendation of a life governed by this fpirit of devotion.
For though it is as realbnable to fiippofe it the defire of all Chriftians to arrive at Chrifti- an Perfedion, as to fuppofe, that all fick mea defire to be reftor'd to perfect health ; yet ex- perience fliews us, that nothing wants more to be prefs'd, repeated, and forc'd upon our minds, than the plaineft rules of Chriftianity.
Voluntary poverty^ virginity^ and devout re^ ttremef2ty have been here recommended, as things not neceflfary, yet highly beneficial to thofe that w^ould make the way to perfeftion the moft eafy and certain. But Chriftian per- fection itfelf is ty'd to no particular form of life ; but is to be attained, tho' not with the lame eafe, in every ftate of life.
This has been fully aflerted in another place ; where it has been fliewn, that Chri/lian per- feftion calls no one (neceflTarily) to a Cloyjier^ but to the full performance of thofe du- Chrift. Perfc(5l. tiesy which are necejfary fgr all P- 2. ChriJiiaiJSy and common to alljiates of Vife^
I i .So
482 A Serious Call
So that the \vholc of the matter is plainry this: V"irgrj?ity^ voluntary poverty^ and fuch .other refiraints of lawful things^ are not ne- ceffary to Chriftian pcrfcdion ; but are much to be commended hi thofc, who chufe them as helps and 7neans of a moicjafe zndfpeedy ar- rival at it.
It is only in this manner, and in this fenfc, that I would recommend any particularity of life ; not as if perfection confifted in it, but becaufe of its great tendency to produce and fupport the truefpirlt of Chriftian perfection.
But tlie thing which is here prefs'd upon ally is, a life of great and /iriti devotion; which^> I think, has been fufficiently ftiewn to be equally the duty and happinefs of all orders of men. Neither is there any thing in any par- ticular ftate of life, that can be juftly pleaded as a reafon for any abatements of a cievout Ipirit.
But becaufe in this pol'tte age of ours, we have io Wd away the fpirit of devotion, that many fcem afraid even to be fufpefted of it^ imagining great devotion to be great Z^/^^/zj ^ that it is founded in ignorance and poarnejs of fph-it, and that little^weak^ d.nddeje£}edmmds^ are generally the greateft proficients in it :
It Ihall here be fully fhewn, that great de-^ votion is the mblejl temper of the greateji and mblefi fouls ; and that they who think: it re- ceives any advantage from Ignorance and poor-* 7iefs of fpirit, are themfelves not a little, but entirely ignorant of the nature of devotion,
the
to a De'vout and Holy Life. 483
the nature of God, and the nature of them- felves.
People o^jiiie parti and learnings or of great knowledge in worldly matters^ ^"^7 perhaps think it hard to have their want or devotloa charged upon their ignorance. But if they will be content to be try'd by Reafon and Scri- pture, it may foon be made appear, that a want of devotion, whero-ever it is, either a- mongft the learned or unlearned, is founded ia grofs ignorance^ and the greateji hlindnefs and injcnjibility that can happen to a rational crea- ture.
And that devotion is fo far from being the effed of a little and dejeBed mind, that it muft and will be always higheji in the vao^ ferfcS^ natures.
And frjl J Who reckons it a fign of z poor^ little mind, for a man to be full of reverence and duty to his parents, to have the trueft love and honour for his friend^ or to excel in the higheji injlances of gratitude to his hencfaBor ?
Are not thefe tempers in the higheji degree in the moft exalted and perfeft minds ?
And yet what is high devotion^ but fhe
higheft exercife of thefe tempers, of duty^ r^-
verencey love^ honour^ and gratitude to the
amiable, glorious parent, friend, and bene-
fatior of all mankind?
Is it a true grcatncfs of mind, to reverence
the authority of your parents, to fear the dif*
pleafure of your friend, to dread the reproaches
of your bcnefador? and muft not this fear y
Wo. and
4S4 ^ Serioits C A L t
and dread J and revere7ice^ be much more juff^ and rcafoniible, and honourable, when they 2Lre in the h'lghefl degree towards God ?
Now as the higher thefe tempers are, the inore are they efteem'd amongft men, and arc allow'd to be fo much the greater proofs of a true greatnefs of mind; fo the higher and greater thefe larrle tempers are towards God, fo much the more do they prove the nobility, ex- cellence, and greatnefs of the mind.
So that {o long as duty to parents, love to friends, and ^r^/i/r/^^^ to benefaftors, are thought great and lionourable tempers ; devotion, which is nothing elfe but duty, love, and gratitude to God, muft have the higheft place amongft our higheft virtues.
If a ^Prince out of his mere goodnejs ftiould fend you a pardon by one of his JlaveSy would you think it a partof your duty to receive the Jlave with marks of love^ ejieefn^ and gratitude for his great kindnefs, in bringing you lb great a gift ; and at the fame time think it a mean-' fiefs and poornefs of Ipirit, to Ihew love^ ejieem znA gratitude to the Prince, who of his own goodnefs freely fent you the pardon?
And yet this would be as reafonable, as to fuppofe, that love, efteem, honour, and gra- titude, are jwble tempers y and inftances of a great J only when they are paid to our fellow- creatures ; but the effefts of a poor^ ignorant^ dejeBed mind, when they are paid to God.
Farther; that part of devotion which ex- preffes itfelf in forrowftil confeflions^ and penl^
2 tential
to a Devout and Holy Life. 485
tenttal tQ'3iXS of, a broken and a contrite heart, is very far from being any fign of a Ilttk and Ignorant mind.
For who does not acknowledge it an in- ftance of an ingenuous^ generous^ and brave mind^ to acknowledge a fault, and ask par- don for any offence ? And arc not the jinej} and viofi improved mind^, the moft remarkable for this excellent temper?
Is it not alfo allow'd, that the ingeuuity and excellence of a man's fpirit is much ihewn, w^hen his Ibrrow and indignation at himfclf rifes in proportion to the folly of his crime, and the goodnefs and greatnefs of the perlbn he feas ofiFended?
Now if things arc thus, then the greater any man's mind is, the more he knows of God and himfelf, the more will he be difpos'd to proftnite himfelf before God in all xh.zhumhleji a3s and expreffions of repentance.
And the greater the ingenuity^ the genera^ Jtty^ jiidg7nent^ and penetration of his mind is, the more will he exerciie and indulge d. pajjio^ nate^ tender fenfe of God's juft dilplcalure ;. and the more he knows of the greatnefs^ the goodnefs, and perfection of the divine nature, the fuller of Ihame and confufion will he be at his own fins and ingratitude.
And on the other hand, the more cfoZ/and Ignorant any foul is, the more hafe and unge-^ nerous it naturally is, the more Jenfckfs it is of the goodnefs and purity of God, lb much
li 3 the
/^^6 A Serious C A L L
the more averfe will it be to all afts of hmnlh confejjlon and repentance.
Devotion therefore is fo far from being beft fuited to little ignorant minds, that a true ele^ vat ton of foul, a lively fejjfe of honour, and great knowledge of God and our felves, are the greateft natural helps that our devotion hath.
And on the other hand, it fhall here be made appear by variety of arguments, that indevot'wn is founded in the moft exceffive ig*- norance.
And, FlrPj Our bleffed Lord, and his Apoftles, v/ere eminent inftances of great and frequent devotion. Now if we will grant, (as all Chriftians muft grant ) that their great devotion was founded in a true knowledge of the nature of devotion, the nature of God, and the nature of man ; then it is plain, that all thofe that are infenfible of the duty of de- votion, are in this exceffive ftate of ignorance, they neither know God, nor themfelves, nor devotion.
For if a right knowledge in thefe three re- fpefts, produces great devotion, as in the cafe of our Saviour and his Apoftles, then a neg- left of devotion muft be chargeable upon ig- norance.
Again ; how comes it that moft people have recourfe to devotion, when they are in fickneis, diftrefs, or fear of death ? Is it not becaufe this iiate fhews them more of the want
to a Dez^OHt and Holy Life. 487
of God, and their own wcaknels, than they perceive at other time^ ? Is it not bccaulc their infirmities, their approaching end convinces them of Ibmething, which they did not half fercerve before ?
Now^ if devotion at thefe feafons, is the ef- fect of a better knoivleilge of God, and our felves, then the negleft of devotion at other times, is always owing to great ignorance of •God, and our felves.
Farther; as indevotion is ignorance, fb it is the vciO^ jhamefid ignorance, and fuch as is to be charged with X\\q great efi fAly.
This will fully appear to any one that con- fiders, by what rules we arc to judge of the excellency of any knowledge, or the fhame- fulnefs of any ignorance.
Now hnomledg lence^ nor ignorance any reproach to us, but that we are rational creatures.
But if this be true, then it follows plainlyj, that that knowledge which is moft fuitabk to ■our rational nature, and v/hich moil concerns us, as fuch, to know, is our h'lghefi^ fr^^J^ knowledge ; and that ignorance which relates to things that are moft ejfflutud to us, as ratio-^ nal creatures, and which we are moft con- grofs and fhameful ignorance.
If therefore there be any things that coH" cern us more than others , if thx^re be any truths that are more to us than all others^ he iJtjat has the fullett knowledge of thefe things^
\\ 4 that
4S8
A Serious Call
that fees thefe truths in the clear e fly ftrongcji light, has, of all others, as a rational crea- ture , the cleareft underftanding , and the Ibongeft parts.
If therefore our relation to God be our groatep relation^ if our advancement in his favour be our higheji advancement^ he that has the hlgheJi notions of the excellence of this re- lation , he that moft fjrongly perceives the hlgheJl worthy and great value of holinefs and virtue, that judges every thing little^ when compar'd with it, proves himfelf to be mailer of the befty and niofl excellent knowledge.
If a Judge had fine skill in paintings archl- teBurCy and mujtcky but at the fame time had grofs and confus'd notions of equity , and a foor^ dull apprehenfion of the value of juftice, who would fcruple to reckon him a poor igno-^ rant Judge ?
If a Blflop fhould be a man of great addrefs and skill in the arts of preferment, and un- derftanding how to raiie and enrich his family in the world, but ftiould have no tajie oxfenje of the maxims and principles of Xh^ faints and fathers of the Church ; if he did not conceive the holy nature, and great obligations of his calling, and judge it better to be cruclfy'dno the world, than to live idly in. pomp TinAfplen- dor^ who would fcruple to charge fuch a Bi- ftiop with want of underftanding?
If we do not judge, and pronounce after this manner^ our realorx and judgment are but empty foundsa
But
to a DcvoHt and Holy Life. 489
But now, if a Jitdge is to be reckoned igno-' rant ^ if he does not feel and perceive the value^ and worth of juftice ^ if a B'ljhop is to be look'd upon as void of underftanding , if he is more experienced in other things, than in the exalted virtues of his Apoftolical calling; then all common Chrijlians are to be look'd up- on as 7nore or lefs knowing , accordingly as they know more or lefs of thofe great things, which are the common ^ind great eji conc^xn oi ^11 Chriftians.
If a Gentleman fliould fancy that the Moon is no bigger than it appears to the eye^ that it fliines with its own light ^ that all the Stars ^re only fo many fpots of light ; if after read- ing books of Jflronomy^ he fliould Hill conti- nue in the fame opinion, moft people would think he had but a poor apprehenfion.
But if the lame perfon ihould think it bet- ter to provide for 2l Jhort life here, than to prepare for a glorious eternity hereafter, that it was better to be rich^ than to be eminent in piety, his ignorance and dalnefs would be too great to be compared to any thing elle.
There is no knowledge that dcferves ^o much as the name of it, but that which we q:^ judgment.
And that is the moft clear and improved underftanding, \\\i\Q\i judges beft of the value and worth of things. All the reft is but the capacity of an animal^ it is but tcvqqx feeing and hearins:.
And
4pO A Serious C A Lt
And there is no excellence of any lcno\v« ledge in us, till we exercife owx jucigmenP^ and judge well of the value and worth of things.
If a man had eyes that could fee beyond the Stars^ or pierce into the heart of the earth, but could not fee the things that were before him, or dilcern any thing that was fervicc- able to him, we Ihould recl$:on that he had a very had jight.
If another had ears that received founds from the world in the Moon^ but could hear nothing that was faid or done upon earth, we ftiould look upon him to be as had as deaf.
In like manner, if a man has a memory that can retain a great many things ; if he has a wit that is Jharp and acute in arts and Iciences, or an imagination that can wander agreeably \xifi3ions^ but has a diill^ poor ap- prchenfion of his duty and relation to God, of the value of piety, or the worth of moral vir-i- tue, he may very juftly be reckoned to have a had under Jlanding. He is but like the man that can only fee and hear filch things as ^re of no benefit to him.
As certain therefore as piety, virtue, and eternal happinefs are of the moft concern to man, as certain as the immortality of our nature, and relation to God, are the moft glo- rious circumftances of our nature, fo certain is it, that he who dwells fnojiin contemplation of them, wiiofe heart is ?noft affeBed with them, who f^cs farthef into them^ who beft comprehends the value and excellency of them.
to a Devout and Holy Life. 49 1
'who judges all worldly attainments to be mere bubbles and fjadows , in comparilba of them, proves himlelf to have of all others, thQJineJi underflanding^ and the Ji ro7igeJi j ndg^ merit.
And if we don't reafon after this manner, or allow this method of reaibning, we have no arguments to prove, that there is any fuch thing as a wife man^ or a fool.
For a man is prov'd to be a natural^ not
becaufe he wants any of his fenjes^ or is inca^
pable of every things but becaufe he has no
judgment J and is entirely ignorant of the worth
and value of things, he will perhaps chufe a
ftie coat J rather than a large efiate.
And as the effence oi Jliipidlty confifts in the entire want oi judgment ^ in an ignorance of the value of things, lb on the other hand, the effence of wifdom and knowledge muft confift in the excellency of our judgment, or in the knowledge of the worth and value of things.
This therefore is an undeniable proof, that he who know^s 7noJi of the value of the belt things, who judges moft rightly of the things which are of moft concern to him, who had rather have his foul in a ftate of chriftian per- feftion, than the grcateft fhare of worldly hap- pinefs, has the higheji wifdom^ and is at the fartheft diftance from men that are naturals^ that any knowledge can place him.
On the other hand, he that can talk the learned languages^ and repeat a great deal of
H'jjlory^
49 2 ji Serious Call
Bijlory^ but prefers the indulgence of his ho dy to the parity and perfeBion of his foul, who is ??iore concern 'd to get a name^ or an eflate here, than to live in eternal glory here* after, is in the neareft eftate to that natural^ who chufcs a painted coaty rather than a large €jlati\
He is not call'd a natural by men, but he muft appear to God, and heavenly Beings, as in a more cxceflive ftate of ftupidity, and will fooncr or later certainly appear fo to himfelf.
But now if this be undeniably plain, that we cannot prove a man to be a fool^ but by Jhevving that he has no knowledge of things that are good and evil to himfelf, then it is undeniably plain, that we cannot prove a man to be v^lfe^ but by ftiewing that he has the fullefi knowledge of things that are his greateji good, and his greateft evil.
If therefore God be our greateft good 5 if there can be no good but in his favour, nor any evil but in departing from him, then it is plain, that he who judges it the beft thing he can do to pleafe God to the utmoft of his power, who worihips and adores him with all his heart and foul, who had rather have a pious mhidy than all the dignities and honours ia the world, ftiews himfelf to be in the high^ eji flate of human wifdom.
To proceed; we know how our bleffedLord acted in an human body ; it was his meat and drink to do the zjHI of his Father which is in heaven.
And
to a Ve'VOHt and Holy Life. 495
And if any number of heavenly fpirits were to leave their habitations in the light of God, and be for a while united to human bodies, they would certainly tend towards God in all their adions, and be as heavenly as they could, in a ftate of flefli and blood.
They would certainly aft in this manner, be- caufe they would know that God was the only good of all fpirits ; and that whether they were iu the body, or out of the body, in heaven^ or on earthy they muft have every degree of their greatnefs and happinefs from God alone.
All human fpirits therefore, the more cxalt^ ed they are, the more they know their divine Original, the nearer they come to heavenly fpirits, by lb much the more will they live to God in all their aftions, and make their whole life 2ijlate of devotion.
Devotion therefore is the greateft fign of a great and noble ^^;^/^i , it fuppofes a foul in its highefi fiate of knowledge ; and none but little and Minded minds that are funk into /£•- mra7ice and vanity ^ are deftitute of it.
If an human fpirit ftiould imagine Ibme mighty Prince to be greater than God, we Ihould take it for a por^ ignorant creature ; all people would acknowledge fuch an imagi- nation to be the height of ftupidity.
But if this fame human fpirit fhould think- It better to be devoted to Ibme mighty ^Prince^ than to be devoted to God, would not this ftill be a greater proof of a poor, ignorant, and blinded nature ?
Yet
494 ^ Serious Call
Yet this is what all people do, who think any thing better^ greater y or wlfery than a de- vout life.
So that which way Ibever we confider this matter, it plainly appears, that devotion is an inftancc oi great judgment^ of an elevated nature ; and the want of devotion is a certain proof of the want of underjlanding.
The greateft fpirits of the heathen world, fuch as '-Pythagoras^ Socrates^ ^lato^ EplBetuSy Marcus Jntomnus^ &c. ow'd all their greatnejs to the fpirit of devotion.
They were full of God; their wifdom and deep contemplations tended only to deliver men from the vanity of the world, the flavery of bodily paflions, that they might a£l ^sfpi^ rits that came from God, and were foon to re- turn to iiim.
Again ; To fee the dignity and greatnefs of a devout fpirit, wx need only compare it with other tempers, that are cholen in the room of it.
St. John tells us, that all in the world (that is, all the tempers of a worldly life) is the laji of the flejhy the luji of the eyeSy and the fride of Itje.
Let us therefore confider, what wifdom or excellency of mind there is required to qualify a man for thefe delights.
Let us fuppofe a man given up to the plea- fures of the body \ furely this can be no fign of a fine mind, or an excellent fpirit ; For if
he
to a Ve
he has but the temper of an animal^ he is great enough for thefe enjoyments.
Let us fuppolc him to be devoted to ho^ UGiirs ^ndi fplen dors ^ to be fond of glitter and equtpage ; now if this temper required any great farts ox ffie undcritanding to make a man ca- pable of it, it would prove the world to abound with great wits.
Let us luppofe him to be in love with rkhesy and to be fo eager in the purfuit of them, as never to think he has enough ; now this paffion is fb far from fuppofing any excel" lent fenfe^ or great under fhuiding^ that blind- nefs and folly are the beft fupports that it hath.
Let us laftly fuppofe him in another light, not fingly devoted to any of thefe paffions^ but, as it moftly happens, governed by all of them in their turns; does this fliew a more exalted nature, than to Ipend his days in the lervice of any one of them?
For to have a tajie for thefe things, and to be devoted to them, is fb far from arguing any tolerable parts or underftanding, that they are fuited to the dullefi^ weaheft minds, and require only a great deal of pride and folly to be greatly admired.
But now let Libertlneshxin^ any fuch charge as this, if they can, againft devotion. They may as well endeavour to charge light with every thing that belongs to darknefs.
Let, them but grant that there is a God, and Providence, and then they have granted
enough
49^
A Serious Call
enough to juftify the wlfdom, and fupport the honour of devotion.
For if there is an infinitely wife and good Creator, in whom we live, move, and have our being, whofe Providence governs all things in all places, furcly it mull be the higheft act of our tmderftanding to conceive rightly of him ; it muft be the nobleft inftance of jiidg^ ment^ the moft exalted temper of our nature, to worlhip and adore this univerfal Providence, to conform to its laws, to ftudy its wifdom, and to live and ad every where, as in the pre- ftnce of this infinitely good and wife Crea- tor.
Now he that lives thus, lives in the fpirit of devotion.
And what can fiiew fuch great parts, and fo fine an underftanding, as to live in this temper ?
For if God is wifdom^ furely he muft be the wifeft man in the world, who mcr^ conforms to the wifdom of God, w^ho beff obeys his Pro- vidence, who enters farthefi into his defigns, and does all he can, that God's will may be done on earth, as it is done in heaven.
A devout man makes a true ufe of his rea- fon ; he fees through the vanity of the world, dilcovers the corruption of his nature, and the lUndnefs of his paffions. He lives by a laz^ which is not vifible to vulgar eyes ; he' enters into the world oi fftrits-^ he compares the greateft things, fets eternity againft time\ and chufes rather to be for eyer great in th-e pre-
fea';c
to a DezfOHt a fid Holy Life. /^pj
fence of God when he dies, than to have the greateft Ihare of worldly pleafures whilft he lives.
He that is devout is full of thefe greaf thoughts ; he lives upon thefe noble refleftions, and condufts himfelf by ndes and principles y which can only be apprehended, admir'd and lov'd by reafon.
There is nothing therefore that iliews fb great a genius^ nothing that lb raifes us above vulgar J'pirits^ nothing that fo plain- ly declares an heroic greatnefs of mind, as great devotion.
When you fuppofe a man to be ?i faint ^ or all devotion, you have raised him as much a- bove all other conditions of life, as a ^hilcfo- fher is above an Animal,
Laftly, Courage and bravery are words of a great found, and feem to fignify an heroick fpi- rit ; but yet humility^ which feems to be the loweft^ meanefi part of devotion, is a more cer- tain argument of a nohle and courageous mind.
For humility contends w^th greater enemies, IS more conftantly engaged, more violently al^ faulted, bears more, fuffers more, and requires greater courage to lUpport itfelf^ than any in-* fiances of worldly bravery.
A man that dares be poor and contemptible in the eyes of the world, to approve himfelf to God ; that refills and rejefts all human glo- ry, that oppofes the clamour of his paffions, that meekly puts up all injuries and wrongs. Is k and
7^p8 A Serious Call
and dares ftay for his reward till the invifible hand of God gives to every one their proper places, endures a much greater trlal^ and ex- erts a nobler fortitude^ than he that is bold and daring in the lire of battel.
For the boldnels of a Soldier, if he is a ftranger to the fpirit of devotion, is rather ivcaknefs than fortitude ; it is at beft but mad fajfion^ and heated fpirits, and has no more true valour in it than the fury oi ^Tyger,
For as we cannot lift up a hand, or ftir a foot, but by a power that is lent us from God \ fo bold anions that are not direfted by the laws of God, or i^o many executions of his \vill, are no more true bravery, th^,n Jedate malice is Chriftian patience.
Realbn is our univerfal law^ that obliges us in all places, and at all times ; and no actions have any honour, but fb far as they are in- flanccs of our obedience to realbn.
And it is as bafe and cowardly j to be bold and daring againft the principle of reafon and juftice, as to be bold and daring in lying and perjury.
Would we therefore exercile a true forti- tude^ wc muft do all in the fpirit of Devotion^ be valiant againft the corruptions of the worldy the lufts of xh^jiejl;^ and the temptations of the Devil : For to be daring and courageous againft thefe enemies, is the nohleft bravery that an human mind is capable of,
I have made this digreffion, for the lake of thole, who think a great Devotion to be big-
to a Devout and Holy Life. 4^9
gatry and poornefs o^Jpirlt ; that by thcfc con- fiderations they may lee , how po?^^ and iman all othci' tempers arc, if compared to it. That they may lee, that all worldly attain- ments, whether of greatnefs, wifdom or bra- very^ are but empty founds \ and that there is nothing wife^ or g?^eatj or iwhlej in an human ff'trit^ but rightly to know^ and heartily "wor^ jhtp and adore the great God, that is the fup-- port and life of all ipirits , whether in keaven^ or on earth.
F I tl I S.
T
HE Procedure, Extent, and Limits of Human Undcrflanding. i%'9, ijzS.
BOOKS Printed for William Ii^i at the Weft End of St. PaulV.