An Extract from Mr. Law’s TREATISE On CHRISTIAN PERFECTION. (continued 2)

But if we appeal to them to know the true good of man, or the proper happiness of our rational nature; if we ask them what guilt there is in sin, or what excellence there is in piety; if we consult them as guides in these matters, we act full as absurdly as if we were to try to hear with our eyes, or to see with our ears.

XXVIII. *While we forget this, all our judgments of things are corrupted by the grossness and errors of our senses.

We judge of every thing in the same manner as the child judges of his play things. It is by our senses alone we pass the judgment, tho’ we think we act with the reason of man.

The world is made up of fine sights, sports, shew and pageantry, which please and captivate the minds of men, because men have still the minds of children, and are just the same slaves to their senses that children are.

As children and men see the same colours in things, so children and men feel the same sensible pleasures, and are affected with external objects in the same manner.

But the misfortune is, that we laugh at the little pleasures, poor designs, and trifling satisfactions of children; while at the same time the wisdom and greatness of men, is visibly taken up with the same trifles.

A coach and six and an embroidered suit, shall make a great statesman as happy, as ever a go-cart and feather made a child.

Ask a child, what he thinks he would do with a great sum of money? Why, he would buy twenty little horses, he would have twenty fine coats, see all fine sights, and the like.

Now promise but a man a great estate, and you will raise all these same thoughts and designs in his mind.

And whence is this, but from hence, that men act with the same vanity of mind, are under the same poor guidance of their senses, are as ignorant of their true happiness, as great strangers to their own nature, as when they first set out in life.

And is not this a plain reason for self-denial? For to indulge ourselves in our natural tempers, is to grow old in the follies of childhood.

XXIX. *Let us take another view of the disorder of our nature, that we may see a still greater necessity of not walking according to it.

When we see people drunk, or in a violent passion, we own they are so long in a state of delusion, thinking, saying, and doing irregular things, by the mere force of their blood and spirits. Here we all see the power of our bodies over our reason; and never suppose a man capable of judging or acting wisely, so long as he is under the violence of passion, or heated by drink.

Now this is more or less the constant, natural state of all mankind; who are by bodily impressions, and the agitations of the blood and spirits, in the same kind of delusion, as men that are drunk, or in a passion, tho’ not always in the same degree.

Sometimes the disorder is more violent than at others. But it never ceases. Men are always in some passion or other; and this, even when it is not to that degree, as to be visible to others, yet occasions the same weakness of mind, the same disordered imagination, and the same wrong apprehension of the nature of things.

A silent envy, a secret vanity, which no body sees, disorders our judgments in the same manner as more violent passions.

You may increase the vanity or envy, till it end in distraction, as it sometimes happens. But then you may be sure, it disordered our understanding in some degree, long before it came to madness. All men therefore while, in a natural state, resemble those who are drunk, or in a violent passion; having some passion or other that affects their spirits and disorders their judgment, in the same manner tho’ not in the same degree.

XXX. *Another circumstance of drunkenness is this, that it gives us a taste peculiar to it, so as to leave a dulness and indisposition towards any thing else. An habitual drunkard has no pleasure like that confused heat of thoughts that arises from inflamed blood. The repeating this so often has given him a turn of mind that relishes nothing but what relates to intemperance.

Now this is naturally the state of all people, in some respect or other. There is something has got hold of them, and given them a taste for it, in the same manner that drinking has formed the taste of a drunkard. All people are not intemperate; but all are under some habit that affects the mind in the same manner as intemperance.

Some people have indulged themselves so long in dressing, others in play, others in sports of the field, others only in little gossiping stories, that they are as much slaves to these, as the intemperate man to liquor.

Now we readily own, that a man who has enslaved himself to drinking, has thereby rendered himself incapable of being a reasonable judge of other happiness; but then we do not enough consider, that we are hurt in the same manner by any thing else that has taken hold of us, and given us a temper and turn of mind peculiar to it.

It is to as little purpose to talk of the happiness of religion, to one that is fond of dress, or play or sports, as to a drunkard; for the pleasures of these particular kinds, make him as deaf to all either proposals of happiness, and as incapable of judging of them.

*A lady abominates a sot, as a creature that has only the shape of a man: but then she does not consider, that perhaps, drunken as he is, he can be more content with the want of liquor, than she can with the want of fine cloaths. And if this be her case, she only differs from him, as one intemperate man differs from another.

Thus it appears, whether we consider the nature, circumstances or effects of drunkenness, that all mankind are more or less in the same state of weakness and disorder.

Hence also appears the absolute necessity of denying our natural tempers and inclinations, and giving ourselves up without reserve to the light and wisdom of God; since by our natural corruption and slavery to the body, we are always under the power of its blind motions, and since all our inclinations and judgments, are only the judgments of heated blood, drunken spirits and disordered passions.

XXXI. Every one sees people in the world, whom he takes to be incapable of sober judgments and wise reflections, because he sees they are full of themselves, blinded with prejudices, violent in their passions, wild and extravagant in their imaginations.

Now when we see these, we should reflect that we see ourselves; for we as certainly see a true representation of ourselves, when we look at such people, as we see a true picture of our state when we see a man in the agonies of death.

You are not dying as this man is; but still he shews you your own true picture. He shews you that your life is in the midst of death, that you have in you the seeds of sickness and mortality, and that you are only at a little uncertain distance from those who are lying upon their last beds.

In like manner, you are not, it may be, in the same height of passion that another man is. You are at some uncertain distance from his state. But if you fancy you are not corrupted with self-love, not weakened by prejudices, not vain in your imaginations, not disordered in your tempers, because you are not in that extremity of disorder wherein some other people are; you think as absurdly, as if you imagined yourself to be immortal, because you are not in the agonies of death.

When therefore you see the violence of other mens passions, the folly of their tempers, and vanity of their minds, remember that you see so many plain reasons for denying yourself, and resisting your own nature, which has in it the seeds of all the same evil tempers.

XXXII. From all this we may learn, (as was observed above) that abstinence as to eating and drinking, is but a small part of Christian self-denial: it being full as dangerous to indulge any evil temper, as to live in gluttony and intemperance.

*You think it shameful to be an epicure, or to be fond of liquor. You are very right: but then proceed a step further, and think it as shameful to be fond of dress, or delighted with yourself, or to be fond of dainties: and that it is as great a sin, to please any corrupt temper, as to please your palate. Remember, that blood heated with any passion, is like blood heated with liquor, and that the grossness of gluttony is no greater a contrariety to religion, than the politeness of pride or vanity.

I have been the longer on this subject, trying to represent the weakness and corruption of our nature, because so far only as we see this, can we see the necessity of denying ourselves. This would be needless, if we were wise and good; but if we see that our whole nature is in a disorder, that our light is darkness, our wisdom foolishness, our judgments as gross and blind as our appetites; that our senses govern us as they govern children; that our hearts are taken up with gewgaws and trifles; that the state of our souls is a state of error and delusion, like that of drunkenness and passion.

If we see ourselves in this true light, we shall see the great reason of Christian self-denial, of renouncing our whole selves, that we may see all things in God; that our hearts may be moved by a motion from him, and our wills and inclinations wholly directed by the light and wisdom of his Spirit.

CHAP. IV.

THE necessity of divine grace, another general ground of self-denial.

I. I come now to another great doctrine of our religion, namely, the absolute necessity of divine grace: which is another constant reason for universal self-denial.

The invisible assistance of God’s Spirit, by which we are disposed to that which is good, and made able to perform it, is a confessed doctrine of Christianity.

Our natural life is preserved by some union with God, who is the fountain of life to all the creation; to which union we are altogether strangers. We find that we are alive; but how or by what influence from God our life is supported, is a secret into which we cannot enter. It is the same thing with relation to our spiritual life; it arises from some invisible union with God, or divine influence, which in this state we cannot comprehend. Our blessed Saviour saith: The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.¹ This shews us how ignorant we are of the manner of the operations of the Holy Spirit. We may feel its effects, as we may perceive the effects of the wind, but are as much strangers to the manner of its coming upon us, as we are to that exact point, from whence the wind begins to blow, or where it will cease.

II. The Spirit of God is like the nature of God, too high for our conceptions, whilst we are in these dark houses of clay. But our blessed Saviour has in some degree helped our conceptions by the manner of his giving the Holy Spirit to the disciples; and he breathed on them, and said unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost. By this we are taught to conceive of the communications of the Holy Spirit, with some likeness to breath, or wind; that its influences come upon us in some manner, like to a gentle breathing of the air. Representations of this kind are only made in compliance with the weakness of our apprehensions; which, not being able to conceive things as they are in their own nature, must be instructed, by comparing them to such things as our senses are acquainted with. Thus the wisdom and knowledge, that is revealed from God, is compared to light; not because light is a true representation of the wisdom of God; but because it serves best to represent it to our low capacities. In like manner, the influences of the Holy Spirit, are set forth by breathing upon us; not because breath, or air, or wind, are true representations of the gifts of the Spirit, but because they are the properest representations that as yet fall within our knowledge.

III. But that which is most necessary for us to know, and of which we are sufficiently informed in scripture, is the absolute necessity of this divine assistance.

We are used to consider those only as inspired persons, who are called by God to some extraordinary designs. In this sense there have been but few inspired persons; but inspiration, as it signifies an invisible operation, or assistance of God’s Holy Spirit, is the privilege of all Christians: in this sense they are all inspired persons. Know ye not, saith St. Paul, that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost, which is in you? St. John likewise, Hereby know we that he dwelleth in us, by the Spirit, which he hath given us. For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, are the Sons of God, and if any man hath not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.¹ From these, and many other passages it is plain, that the life which we now live, is a life in and by the Spirit of God; and that they are only Sons of God, who are led by this Spirit. Now this doctrine plainly proves the necessity of a constant self-denial; for it must be necessary that we deny ourselves all those tempers, and ways of life, which may make God withhold his grace from us; and likewise all those enjoyments and indulgences, which may make us less able and less disposed to improve and co-operate with those degrees of divine grace that are communicated to us.

IV. And seeing we are none of Christ’s, if the Spirit of Christ be not in us; seeing we are only so far Christians, as we are renewed by the Holy Ghost; nothing can be more necessary than that we consider all our tempers, pleasures, cares, designs and ways of life, whether they be such as suit with the wisdom and heavenly guidance of the Holy Spirit. This doctrine shews us to ourselves in a new point of view, and may serve to teach us several truths, which we should otherwise not so readily apprehend.

When we are left to consider our duty with relation to the express commandments of God, there are many ways of life, which we think ourselves at liberty to follow, because they seem to be no plain breach of any express commandment. But we are to look to a farther rule, and to consider our pleasures and cares, our designs and endeavours, not only whether they are contrary to the letter of the law, but whether they are according to the Spirit of God; for if they are contrary to the Spirit of God, they are as truly to be avoided, as if they were contrary to some express commandment. For we are assured by scripture, that they only are the Sons of God, who are led by the Spirit of God; and none can be said to be led by the Spirit of God, but they whose lives are according to it, whose actions, cares, and pleasures, hopes and fears, are such as may be said to be guided by the Holy Ghost.

V. We are therefore to consider ourselves as inspired persons, that have no knowledge or wisdom, but what comes from God; and this wisdom will no longer dwell with us, than we act conformably thereto. So that we must not deceive ourselves in saying, where is the harm of such indulgences, or such vanities and idle amusements? But must consider, whether they are such as are conformable to a life that is to be directed by the Holy Ghost. In this manner must we examine all our ways of life, as well our cares as our pleasures. For unreasonable cares, and unreasonable pleasures, are equally contrary to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, and equally separate us from him. People often think their designs and diversions innocent, because they are not sinful in their nature. But they should also consider, whether they are not vain and foolish, and unsuitable to the condition of a Christian. For a life of folly and vanity, and trifling designs, is no more living by the Spirit of God, than a life of gross sins is keeping the commandments. So that the safest rule to judge of our actions by, is to consider them with relation to that Spirit, by which we are to be guided. Is this design or this diversion according to the wisdom of the Spirit of God? Am I in these things improving the secret inspiration of the Holy Ghost? Am I here governed by a wisdom from above? Are these ways such as I can truly say, that I am led into them by the Spirit of God? Do I allow myself in them, because they serve to set forth the glory of God? Are they good proofs that the Spirit of God dwelleth in me; and that by thus sowing to the Spirit, I shall of the Spirit reap everlasting life? This is the rule by which Christians are to regulate their thoughts, words, and actions; for we are called by God to act by the motions of his Holy Spirit, and to make no other use of ourselves, or the world we are in, than such as is conformable to that dignity of life and state of glory to which we are called. The Spirit of our religion is to be the spirit of our lives, the constant principle of all our tempers and inclinations, which is to render us reasonable, and wise and holy in all our progress through the world.

VI. *’Tis acknowledged by all, that a life of intemperance and debauchery, makes us dead and senseless of religion: but then it is not enough considered that the vanity of the mind, an understanding busied in trifles, an impertinent course of life, will as certainly produce the same effect. If our understanding is full of foolish imaginations, if we are devoted to trifles, religion can gain no entrance. A man may be so earnest in picking straws, as to have no leisure to think of his salvation; nor any more inclination to it, than one that is constantly in drink.

Thus poor amusements, vain arts, useless sciences, impertinent learning, false satisfaction, a wrong turn of mind, a state of idleness, or any the vainest trifles of life, may keep men at as great a distance from true religion, as the debaucheries of intemperance.

VII. *Titius is temperate and regular: but then he is so great a mathematician, that he does not know when Sunday comes: he sees people going to church as he sees others going to market; he goes on studying, measuring, and calculating, and may as well be called a merchant as a Christian.

All doctrines of religion are disagreeable to Philo; he avoids them as he avoids party: now what is the reason of it? It is not because he is debauched and intemperate. But he is a virtuoso, devoted to polite literature. His soul is extended to all the curiosities in the world, and thinks all time to be lost that is not spent in the search of shells, urns, inscriptions, and broken pieces of pavements. This makes the concerns of eternity seem small things in his eyes, fit only for the enquiry of narrow, little, and unpolite souls.

Eusebius would read prayers twice a day in his parish; he would be often with the poor and sick, and spend much time in charitable visits; he would be wholly taken up with the care of souls, but that he is busy in studying the old grammarians, and would fain reconcile some differences amongst them before he dies.

VIII. Lycia might be pious; but that she is too easy, gay, and chearful, to admit of care of any kind. She can no more repent, than she can be out of temper, and must be the same sparkling, chearful creature in the church, as in the play-house. She might be capable of understanding the misery of human nature, and the necessity of the comforts of religion; but that she is so happy every time she is dressed.

Matrona is old, and has been these fifty years eating and drinking, sleeping and waking, dressing and undressing, paying and receiving visits. She has no prophaneness; and, if she has no piety, it is owing to this, that she never had a spare half-hour to think about it. She envies her daughters, because they will dress and visit when she is dead.

*Publius goes to church sometimes, and reads the scripture; but he knows not what he reads or prays, his head is so full of politics. He is so angry at Kings and Ministers of State, that he has no time or disposition to call himself to account. He has the history of all parliaments, elections, prosecutions, and impeachments, and dies with little or no religion, through a constant fear of popery.

Siccus has been all his life long building and pulling down, making canals and ditches, raising walls and fences. People call him a good man, because he employs the poor: Siccus might have been a religious man, but that he thought building was the chief happiness of a rational creature. He is all the week amongst dirt and mortar, and stays at home on Sundays to view his contrivances. He will die more contentedly, if his death does not happen whilst some wall is in building.

IX. I have mentioned these several characters to shew, that it is not only prophaneness, debauchery, and open vices, that keep men from the impressions of true religion; but that the mere play-things of life, impertinent studies, vain amusements, false satisfactions, idle dispositions, will produce the same effect. A wrong turn of mind, impertinent cares, a succession of the poorest trifles, if they take up our thoughts, leave no more room for true piety than gross sensuality.

X. We see even in worldly matters, that if we propose any thing to a man, when he is in the pursuit of something else, he hardly hears or understands us; we must stay for a season of more leisure and indifference, till his thoughts and passions are at rest.

Now this holds much stronger in matters of religion. Its doctrines are neither heard nor understood, because it always finds us in the pursuit of something else. It matters not what this something else is; the mind is equally employed wrong, and so not in a condition to like, or at leisure to listen to any other happiness. If you were to propose the same truths to a man in another state, when weariness or disappointment has made him give up all designs, or when sickness or the approach of death shews him that he must act no longer in them, they would have quite another effect upon him; then the great things of religion appear great indeed. He feels their whole weight, and is amazed he did not see them always in the same manner. Now it is the great end and design of self-denial to put a stop to the follies of life, that our souls may quietly consider, and fully comprehend the truths which come from God; that our hearts being at liberty from a croud of foolish thoughts, may be ready to obey and co-operate with the inspirations of that Spirit, which is to lead and quicken us in all holiness; that death and judgment, heaven and hell, may make as deep impressions upon our minds in the middle of our lives, as at our last hour; that we may be as wise and prudent as sick and dying men, and live with such apprehensions as most people die with; that we may see the vanity of the world, the misery of sin, the greatness of eternity, and the want of God, as they see it who stand upon the brink of another world.

XI. This is the great and happy work of self-denial, to awaken us into a true knowledge of ourselves, and shew us who, and where, and what we are. Till then our life is but a sleep, a dream, a mere succession of shadows; and we act with as little reason as a child that is pleased with blowing about a feather. We must therefore not only deny our wicked inclinations, but also all our follies, impertinences, and vain satisfactions: for, as plain and known sins harden and corrupt, so impertinences and vain satisfactions delude and blind our hearts, and render them insensible of our real misery, or true happiness.

XII. We are true members of the kingdom of God; when the kingdom of God is within us; when the spirit of religion is the spirit of our lives; when seated in our hearts, it diffuses itself into all our motions; when it is the principle of all our thoughts and desires, the spring of all our hopes and fears; when we like and dislike, seek and avoid, mourn and rejoice, as becomes those who are born again of God. And this is the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts, to give us a new understanding, a new judgment, temper, taste, and relish, new desires, and new hopes and fears. But so far as we nourish any foolish passion, indulge any vanity of mind or corruption of heart; so far we resist the graces of God’s Holy Spirit, and render ourselves indisposed to relish and improve his secret inspiration.

XIII. Christians are therefore not only to consider themselves, as men that are to act by a principle of reason, but as spiritual beings who have a higher principle of life within them, and are to live by the wisdom and instructions of the Spirit of God.

As reasonable men would do every thing that tended to strengthen or improve their reason, so Christians ought to practise every thing that can strengthen or preserve their union with the Spirit of God. For as a man without reason has but the figure of a man; so a Christian without the Spirit of God, has but the form of a Christian. Here therefore we must fix all our care, and concern, that we may remove all hindrances of divine grace; that we may be truly spiritual in all our ways and designs, and indulge no tempers that may lessen our union with the Spirit of God.

XIV. Some persons will perhaps refrain from grief, when they find that it hurts their eyes; they will avoid passion and anger if it ends in pains of the head; but they would do well to consider that these tempers are to be abstained from, upon much greater accounts. Passion may disorder our bodies, waste our spirits, and leave pains in our heads; but it leaves greater marks of injury in our better parts, as it throws us into a state of madness, and banishes the Holy Spirit of peace, and gentleness, and prepares us for the suggestions of the spirit of darkness. Grief may hurt our eyes, but it much more hurts our souls, as it sinks them into a state of gloom and darkness, which expels and quenches the Spirit of God; for light may as well unite with darkness, as the Spirit of God dwell with the gloomy dulness and horror of stupid grief. What I have observed of these two passions, ought to be concluded of every other passion and temper; we are to consider it as it suits with, or resists that new Spirit, by whose motions we are to be preserved in a state of holiness.

XV. Now seeing this newness of spirit is the whole of religion; we must fear and avoid all irregularity of spirit, every unreasonable temper, because it hurts us in our principal part, and makes us less capable of the graces, and less obedient to the motions of God’s Holy Spirit. We must labour after a state of peace, and thankfulness, free from the folly of vain hopes, idle fears, and false anxieties, that our souls may be disposed to rejoice in the comforts, and advance in the graces of the Holy Ghost.

XVI. And with what care and exactness we are at all times to conduct ourselves, is fully set forth in the following words: Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers; and grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby you are sealed unto the day of redemption.¹ That we may not here mistake what is meant by corrupt communication, the apostle adds; but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers. So that it is a conversation that does not edify, and profit the hearers, that the apostle condemns as corrupt. And let it be observed that the apostle does not prohibit this kind of conversation because it is useless, and impertinent; but for a reason of the utmost consequence, that we may not grieve the Holy Spirit of God. This shews us that we Christians are to govern ourselves by no less a rule, than a conformity to the Spirit of God; that we are not only to deny ourselves vain and foolish actions, but also idle and unedifying discourse, and conduct ourselves in all our behaviour, with such a spirit of wisdom and purity as may make the Holy Ghost delight to dwell in us. Such a wisdom as is not occasionally exercised in this or that place, or at set times; but is always in being, and constantly disposing us to thoughts, words and actions suitable to it.

XVII. A man may be said to have some regard for religion, who is regular at places of divine worship; but he cannot be reckoned of a religious spirit, till it is his Spirit in every place and on every occasion, till he lives and breathes by it, and thinks, and speaks, and acts according to its motions.

A man may frequent meetings for mirth; but yet, if when he is out of them, he gives himself to peevishness, chagrin and dulness, no one will say such a man is of a chearful spirit. It is easy to make the application: if we are only attendants at places of religion; if when we are out of those places, we are of another spirit, I don’t say proud or covetous, but vain and foolish: if our actions are silly, and our conversation trifling and impertinent, our tempers vain and worldly, we are no more of a religious spirit, than a dull peevish man is of a chearful spirit, because he is regular at some set meetings for mirth.

XVIII. *Religion is not ours till we live by it; till it is the religion of our thoughts, words and actions; till it goes with us into every place; sits uppermost on every occasion; and forms and governs our hopes and fears, our cares and pleasures. He is the religious man who watches and guards his Spirit, and endeavours to be always in the temper of religion; who worships God in every place: who is as fearful of foolish thoughts, irregular tempers, and vain imaginations at one time as at another; who is as wise and heavenly at home, or in the field, as in the house of God. For when once religion has got possession of a man’s heart, and is become as it ought to be, his ruling temper; it is as agreeable to such a one in all places, and at all times, to speak and act according to its directions, as ’tis agreeable to the ambitious man, to act according to the motions of ambition. We must therefore take it for granted, that if we are not religious in our conversation, or common temper, we are not religious in our hearts; we may have a formality of religion at certain times and places, but we are not of a religious spirit.

XIX. We see every body speaking and conversing according to their spirit and temper: the covetous, the ambitious, the vain and self-conceited, have each of them their proper language suitable to their spirit and temper; they are the same persons in all places, and always talk like themselves. If therefore we could meet with persons of a truly religious spirit, we should find them like men of other tempers, the same persons in all places, and always talking and acting like themselves. We should find them living by one temper, and conversing with men with the same spirit that they converse with God; not one thing in one place, and another in another; not formal and grave at a funeral, and mad and frantic at a feast; not listening to wisdom at church, and delighting in folly at home; not angry with one foolish thing, and as much pleased at another; but steady and uniform in the same wise and religious temper.

XX. Farther, as we are not of a religious spirit, till it orders all our conversation; so it is to be observed, that if our conversation is vain and foolish, it keeps us in a state incapable of religion, by grieving the Holy Spirit. And as we can do nothing without the Spirit of God, as he is our breath, our life, our light, and our strength; so, if we live in such a way as grieves and removes this Holy Spirit from us, we are as branches that are broke off from the tree, and must perish in the deadness and corruption of our nature. Let this therefore teach us to judge rightly of the sin and danger of vain, unedifying and corrupt communication; it is not the sin of idleness or negligence only; it is not a pardonable infirmity; it is not a little mistake in spiritual wisdom; but it is a sin that stands between us and the tree of life; that opposes our whole happiness, as it grieves and separates the Holy Spirit from us. Let this also teach some people the reason why they are so dead and senseless of religion: they are not guilty of gross sins; they have an aversion to cheating and falseness; but at the same time have no more feeling or sense of religion than mere reprobates. Now the reason of it is this; they live in such an impertinence of conversation; their communication is so constantly upon silly and vain subjects; and they are so fond of those who have the talent of conversing in the same manner, that they render themselves unfit for the residence of the Holy Spirit. We don’t seem to apprehend, either how much good or how much evil there is in conversation; I believe it may be affirmed that the greatest instructions, and the greatest corruptions proceed from it. For mens common conversation and ordinary life teach much more effectually than any thing they say or do at set times or occasions.

When a clergyman preaches, he is for the most part considered as doing that which all clergymen do, whether good or bad. But if he is the same wise and virtuous man in his communication, that he is in the pulpit; if his speech be always seasoned with salt, that it may minister grace unto the hearers; if the common actions of his life be visibly governed by a spirit of piety: such a one will be heard with reverence on the Sunday for what he says and does all the week. And on the contrary, if a clergyman, when he comes out of the pulpit, is but like other men; as irregular in his tempers; as trifling in his conversation; as eager in his diversions; and as vain in his designs; he will mightily lessen his power over the hearts of his hearers.

A father now and then gives his son virtuous advice, and the son perhaps would be much the better for it; but that he never hears him talk virtuously, but when he is giving him advice; this makes him think, that he is then only acting the part of a father; as when he is buying him cloaths, or putting him out to an employment. Whereas if he saw his father’s ordinary life and conversation to be under the rules of religion; and his every day temper, a temper of piety; ’tis very likely that he would be won into an imitation of it.

XXI. It is our communication, our ordinary temper and common life, that affects other people, that either hardens them in sin, or awakens them to a sense of piety. Let therefore all clergymen, and masters and mistresses of families look carefully to themselves; let them consider, that if their ordinary life, their communication be vain, impertinent, and unedifying, they are not only in a corrupt state of heart, but are guilty of corrupting and perverting the hearts of those that belong to them. Let them not think that they have sufficiently discharged their duty, by seeing that those who relate to them, have their proper instructions; for it is next to impossible for such instructions to have their proper effect against the example of those we converse with. If a clergyman plays, and drinks, and sports with his flock in the week days: let him not wonder if he preaches them asleep on Sundays. If a father is intemperate; if he swears, and converses foolishly with his friends; let him not wonder that his children cannot be made virtuous. It is therefore the necessary duty of all Christians, in all states of life, to look carefully to their ordinary behaviour, that it be not the means of poisoning and corrupting the hearts of those they converse with. They must consider, that all the follies and impertinences of their ordinary life and conversation have the guilt of destroying souls; and that the blood of those whom their follies have destroyed, will be required at their hands.

XXII. A mistress whose conversation is a daily proof to her maids, that she is governed by a spirit of piety in all she says and does: whose life is a continual visible labour to work out her salvation with fear and trembling, is a blessing to all that stand about her. She communicates happiness even to those who are born of her servants; they will be educated in piety, because their parents learnt what piety was in waiting on such a mistress.

XXIII. A good-natured, drinking, sleeping, playing, swearing master, is a curse to those who tend upon him; they are led into all irregularities, by following his steps, and are sent into the world hardened in follies, and insensible of religion, by having lived with such a master. This ought carefully to be considered by all Christians, as a mighty encouragement to strictness of behaviour; that as a holy conversation intitles us to a reward for other peoples virtues; so an evil communication makes us liable to a punishment for other mens sins. For we can neither live well nor ill to ourselves alone; but must of necessity do either good or harm to others by our manner of conversation. This is one great reason why a vain corrupt communication does so grieve the Holy Spirit; because it is so infecting an evil, and does so corrupt the manners of those we converse with.

CHAP. V.

THE necessity of divine grace, obligeth all Christians to a constant purity and holiness of conversation; wherein is shewn the great danger and impiety of reading vain and impertinent books.

I. I have shewn that the necessity of divine grace is a mighty argument for an universal exactness of life and conversation. I come now to speak farther to that remarkable branch of it: Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace to the hearers; and grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed to the day of redemption. Now if we are to let no corrupt communication proceed out of our mouth, that we may not grieve the holy Spirit of God; it follows that we are to deny ourselves the entertainment of corrupt, impertinent, and unedifying books. For if vain and idle words are not to proceed out of our mouths, we must be under the same necessity of not letting them come into our hearts.

II. If we would know what books are to be avoided as corrupt and grieving the Holy Spirit, we must look back to the rule of our communication; for as that communication is there said to be corrupt that does not edify and minister grace to the hearers; so must we look upon all those books as corrupt, which do not edify and minister grace to the readers. Now this book-entertainment is as certainly forbidden by the apostle, as cheating is forbidden by the eighth commandment: for if I am not to say foolish and impertinent things myself, because such a communication grieves the Holy Spirit of God; I am as certainly forbid the reading the corrupt and impertinent sayings of other people.

The books which mostly corrupt our hearts, and fill us with a spirit of folly, are such as almost all the world allow themselves to read; I mean books of wit and humour, romances, plays, and other productions of the poets. Thus a grave orthodox old gentleman, if he hears that his niece is very good, and delights in reading, will fill her closet with volumes of plays and poems on several occasions, on purpose to encourage her to spend her time well. There is not perhaps a more surprising infatuation in the conduct of Christians, than this.

III. There is a proper time for every thing that is lawful to be done: now, can you tell when it is proper for a Christian to meditate upon these books?

There is a time when our hearts are more than ordinarily raised towards God; when we feel the joys and comforts of religion, and enjoy a peace that passes all understanding. Now I suppose reason will not allot this time for the diversion of such books.

There is a time, when either thro’ the neglect of duty, remorse of mind, worldly vexations, bodily tempers, or the absence of God’s Spirit, we sink into dejection and dulness, grow burthensome to ourselves, and can hardly think of any thing with satisfaction. Now if reason is to judge, this is of all times the most improper for such entertainment. For if there is any time more proper than another to think upon God, ’tis when we are in heaviness.

When we are sick it is time to fly to the physician; when we are weary, it is a proper time to rest: now there is the same fitness in having recourse to God and religion, when we are under any dejection of mind. For it is not more the sole property of light to dispel darkness, than it is the sole property of religion to relieve all uneasiness. Is any one afflicted, says the apostle, let him pray. Now this we are to look upon, not only as a wise advice of something that is very good to be done; but as a strict command that leaves no choice of doing any thing in the stead of it.

It is as absolute a command as if he had said, Hath any one sinned, let him repent. For an application to God is as much the one thing to be done in the hour of trouble, as repentance is the one thing to be done in time of sin.

IV. You seem to make times of dulness the occasion of reading those books, by saying that you only read them to divert your spirits. But that which you take to be a reason for reading them, is a strong objection against it. For it is never so improper to read those books, as when you want to have your spirits raised, or your mind made easy to itself. For it is the highest abuse you can put upon yourself, to look for ease and quiet in any thing, but in right apprehensions of God’s providence. And it is a sin against the whole nature of religion, not to make it the whole measure and reason of all your peace and enjoyment in every occurrence of life.

If you must amuse yourself with a volume of plays, because you are laid up with a broken leg, or have lost a friend, you are as far from wisdom as a child that is to be made quiet with a rattle, and as far from religion as those who worship idols; nay, to seek to such things for relief and refreshment, is like applying to the devil in distress. A man that drinks drams every time he is dull or uneasy, is a wise, prudent, and sober man, if compared to the Christian that in seasons of dejection has recourse to wanton wit, and prophane rant: he destroys the purity of his mind much more effectually, than the other destroys the health of his body.

Do you think that in great distresses, it is proper to seek comfort in God; but that in little troubles, any thing that can divert is as well? Nay, surely if God is our sufficient comfort in great distresses, he must be our best relief in those that are smaller. Unless it can be said, that the truths of religion are able to make us bear martyrdom with content, but not great enough to make us easy in little trials.

V. Besides, to seek for relief in foolish books, is not only applying to a false remedy, but is also destroying the chief power of religion. For as religion has no power over us but as it is our happiness; so far as we neglect, or refuse to make use of its comforts, so far we destroy its power over us. For it can no otherwise be the ordinary care of our lives, than by being our ordinary happiness and consolation in all the changes of life. A Christian therefore is to make his Christianity his comfort, not only in times of great trial and sufferings, but in all the lesser vexations of life, that by this means every little occasion of grief or disquiet may be an occasion of his being more affected with religion, and more sensible of its true comforts.

VI. On the contrary, if men will make themselves happy as children are made happy, not by considering the nature of things, but by a change of amusements, they must also expect to have the vexations of children, and be, like them, laughing and crying at they know not what, all the days of their life: for children are only easily vexed because they are easily pleased; and it is certain that they who can be pleased with things of no value must in the same degree be liable to be displeased at them. And as this is the true state of childhood: so whosoever is in this state, whatever his age may be, his office, or his dignity in life, is yet as truly in the state and folly of childhood, as he that is but four years old. Take an instance or two: a child whose heart is half broken at some misfortune, may perhaps be made easy with a picture of a huntsman and a pack of hounds; but if you would comfort the father that grieves for his eldest son, the hounds must all be alive; they must cry, and run, and follow a hare; and this will make the father as easy as the picture did the child.

A mother comforts her little girl with a pack of cards that are finely painted: by and by she wants to be comforted herself: some great calamity has happened to her. Now you must not think to comfort her with painted cards, or building houses with them; her grief is too great, and she has been too long a mother to be pleased with such things. It is only serious ombre that can dry her eyes, and remove sorrow from her heart.

VII. I might easily multiply instances of this kind; but these are sufficient to shew us, that persons of age and authority often differ only from children, as one child may differ from another. This is the true reason why human life is so full of complaint; why it is such a mixture of ridiculous pleasures, and vain disquiets, namely, because we live in an entire ignorance of the nature of things, never considering why we are pleased with this, or displeased with that, nor any more appeal to religion to direct our judgments, than children appeal to reason to form their tempers. For if we will only play, or lull ourselves into repose, as children are rocked to sleep, it is not to be wondered at, if like them we cry as soon as we are awake: and the reason why people, seemingly religious, are subject to the same dulness and peevishness, to the same vexations and variety of griefs that other people are, is this, because they make no more use of their religion on those occasions, than other people: they don’t so much as intend to keep themselves easy, thankful and chearful, by making religion the measure and standard of all their thoughts and judgments, in all the common chances of life, any more than those do, who have no thoughts about religion.

VIII. Suppose a person had lame feet, and bad eyes, and that he had an oil, that was an infallible cure for them both, when applied to both; if you saw him only using it for his eyes, you would not wonder that it had not cured his feet; you would know that his anointing his eyes could only cure his eyes; and that there was no ground to expect that his feet should be any better, till he anointed his feet: and all this for this plain reason, because things, however good in themselves, can have no farther effect than as they are applied. Now it is just thus in religion. If a man places it only in public worship, he attends public worship; it operates so far. But why must you wonder, that he is not of a wise, virtuous, and religious temper, in all the actions of his ordinary life? Is not this wondering why the oil has not cured a man’s feet, when he has never applied it to them, but only to his eyes?

IX. *When the regular churchman as plainly makes religion the measure of his ordinary life, as he makes it the rule of his going to church; when he as directly uses it to this purpose, as a man anoints his eyes, who would be cured by anointing them; then you will see him as different in his ordinary life from other people, as different in his pleasures and griefs, in his cares and concerns, as he is different from them in forms and regularity of worship. But till men do this; till they apply the principles of religion to all the actions of ordinary life; till they make it the measure of all their daily tempers, their joys and fears; till they think there is as much piety in being wise and holy in their common tempers, as in being devout at church; as much sin in being vainly pleased and foolishly vexed, as in neglecting the divine service; till they thus directly apply religion to common life, as a man applies a remedy to the part he would have cured; it is no more to be expected that it should make them religious in common life, than that an oil applied to our eyes should cure our feet.

It is our ordinary life, which we think is thus left to ourselves, that makes religion so insignificant in the world: it lies by like a remedy that is unapplied; it has no effect because it is used only as a formal thing that has its duties at set times and occasions: whereas it should be used and considered as the rule and reason of all our judgments and actions; as the measure of all our cares and pleasures; as the life of our life, the spirit of our spirit, and the very form and essence of all our tempers. It is to be in us, like a new reason and judgment of our minds; that is to reason and judge of every thing we do, and to preside over and govern all the motions of our hearts. Is any one merry, saith the apostle, let him sing psalms: Is any afflicted, let him pray. This is religion in the apostle’s account; it is not only an attendance at the public worship, but it is the ruling habit of our minds; something that devotes us wholly to God, that allows of no mirth in our common life, but a mirth proper for the brethren of Christ, a mirth that can express itself in praise and thanksgiving, that allows of no other cure for grief or vexation than what is to be had from recourse to God. And indeed what can be more absurd, than for a Christian ever to act in any other consideration than as a Christian? He is senseless to a degree of madness when he indulges a thought, or a motion of his heart; when he either takes a pleasure, or relieves a grief; where he cannot say I do this as a Christian, as suitable to that state in which Christianity has placed me.

X. *We reckon a man sufficiently mad that fancies himself a king, and governing his subjects, at the same time that he is tied on a bed of straw: now a Christian repeats every day, I believe the forgiveness of sin, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting; he thanks God for the redemption of Jesus Christ, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory. Yet at the same time, in this state of greatness, he fancies himself in a thousand wants and miseries: he cries and labours, and toils for a happiness, that has no existence but in his own imagination; he fancies himself a being that is to be made happy with sauces and ragous, with painted cloaths and shining diamonds, he is grieved and fretted like a child at the loss of a feather; and must be diverted, as they are, with shows and plays, and imaginary scenes of rant and nonsense. Now is not such a one mad? Does he not know as little of his state, as the man in straw who fancies himself a king? But for a Christian, in times of dulness or vexation, to seek relief in foolish amusements, in the loose, wild discourses of plays, when he should acquaint himself with God, and be at peace, is a degree of madness that exceeds all others; it is acting as contrary to the nature of things, as if a man that had lost the use of his limbs, should chuse to comfort his lameness with painted shoes, when he might have the use of his feet restored. For the consolations of religion relieve uneasiness and trouble, as a lame man is relieved when his limbs are restored; they conquer grief, not by cheating and deluding the weakness of our minds, but as the resurrection conquers death, by restoring us to a new and glorious life.

XI. From these reflections I hope it sufficiently appears, that the reading vain and impertinent books is no matter of indifferency; but that it is justly to be reckoned amongst our greatest corruptions; that it is as unlawful as malice and evil speaking; and is no more to be allowed in any part of our life.

Reading, when it is an exercise of the mind, upon wise and pious subjects, is, next to prayer, the best improvement of our hearts; it enlightens our minds, collects our thoughts, calms and allays our passions, and begets in us wise and pious resolutions; it is a labour that does so much good to our minds, that it ought never to be employed amiss; it enters so far into our souls that it cannot have a little effect upon us. Reading and meditation is that to our souls, which food and nourishment is to our bodies; so that we cannot do ourselves either a little good, or little harm, by the books that we read.

XII. But perhaps you think it is a dull task to read only religious and moral books: but when God is your happiness; when you are not afraid of the joys of eternity, you will think it a dull task to read any other books. Don’t fancy therefore that your heart is right, tho’ you had rather read books upon other subjects; for it is there that you are to charge your dullness: religion has no hold of you; the things of eternity are not the concerns of your mind; it is dull and tiresome to you to be wise and pious; and that makes it a dull task to read only books that treat upon such subjects. When it is the care of your soul to be humble, holy, pious, and heavenly minded; when you know any thing of the guilt and misery of sin, or feel a real desire of salvation, you will find religious books to be the greatest feast and joy of your mind.

XIII. You perhaps will say that you have so much spare time for reading, that you think you need not employ it at all in reading good books. It may be so; you may have also more time than you need devote to offices of charity; but will you thence conclude, that you may then do things contrary to charity, and indulge yourself in spight and mischief?

*If you have every day more time than you can employ in reading, meditation and prayer; if this time hangs upon your hands, and cannot be turned to any advantage; let me desire you to go to sleep or pick straws; for it is much better to do this, than to have recourse to corrupt and impertinent books. Time lost in sleep, or in picking straws, is better lost than in such exercises of the mind. Consider farther, that idle and spare time calls for the greatest care and watchfulness; so that to have recourse then to evil and impertinent books, is like inviting the devil because you are alone. If you could read ill books when you are in haste, or in a hurry of other matters, it would do you much less harm than to read them because your time hangs upon your hands. That very season which you take to be an excuse for such reading, is the strongest argument against it, because evil thoughts and vain subjects have twice the effect, and make double impressions when they are admitted at times of leisure and idleness.

XIV. Consider again to what a miserable state you are reduced, when you are forced to have recourse to foolish books to get rid of your time. Your fortune perhaps has removed you from the necessity of labouring for your bread; you have been politely educated in softness; you have no trade or employment to take up your time; and so are left to be devoured by corrupt passions and pleasures. Whilst poor people are at hard labour; whilst your servants are drudging in the meanest offices of life; you, oppressed with idleness and indulgence, are relieving yourself with foolish and impertinent books; feeding and delighting a disordered mind with romantic nonsense, and poetic follies. If this be the effect of riches and fortune, only to expose people to the power of disordered passions, and give them time to corrupt their hearts with madness and folly, well might our Lord say, Woe unto you that are rich!

*When you see a poor creature drudging in the meanest offices of life, and glad of the dirtiest work to get his bread, you are apt to look upon him as a miserable wretch; it raises a mixture of pity and contempt in you; but remember, that every time you see such a person, you see a more reasonable creature than yourself, and one that is much more nobly employed than you are. He is acting conformably to the state of human life, and bearing a hard part with patience; he is doing a work which, mean as it is, will be looked upon as done unto the Lord; whilst you, idling in softness and pleasures, are unable to bear your time, unless it be stolen away from you by folly and impertinence. Fancy that you saw a patient Christian, old, broken and crooked, with carrying burthens all his life; fancy that you saw another Christian lolling in state and softness, and making every day a day of vanity and foolish reading; which of them do you think is most likely to die in the hands of good angels, and be carried into Abraham’s bosom?

XV. *But, after all, what a vain imagination is it to think that you have any such thing as spare time? Is there any time for which you are not accountable to God? Is there any time which God has so left to your own disposal that you may sacrifice it to the indulgence of vain tempers, and the corruption of your heart? You can no more shew this than you can shew, that all your time is your own. To talk, therefore of spare time, is to talk of something that never did nor ever will belong to any Christian. You may have a spare time from this or that labour, or necessity, you may abate or change any particular exercise, you may take this or that refreshment; you have all these spare times from particular actions, but you have no spare time that releases you from the laws of Christianity, or that leaves you at liberty not to act by the principles of religion and piety.

*You have spare time to refresh yourself: but this is to be governed by the same wisdom, as the time that is spent in cares and labours. For your recreations and pleasures are only lawful as far as they are directed by the same wisdom with your cares and labours. If therefore the providence of God has placed you above the necessity of labouring for your livelihood, you must not think that you have so much spare time to spend, as you please, but that you are certainly called to some other labour. Great part of the world is doomed to toil and slavery; they have it not in their power to chuse any other way of life, and their labour is therefore an acceptable service to God, because it is such as their state requires. Happy are you therefore, if you knew your happiness, who have it in your power to be always doing the best things; who, free from labour and hardships, are at liberty to chuse the best ways of life, to study all the arts of self-improvement, to practise all the ways of doing good, and to spend your time in all the noblest instances of piety, humility, charity and devotion! Bless God then, not because you have spare time, for that you have none, but that you have time to employ in the best ways that you can find; that whilst others are oppressed with burdens, and worn out with slavery, you have time to think upon the greatest and best of things; to enlighten your mind, to correct the disorder of your heart, to study the laws of God, to contemplate the wonders of his providence, to convince yourself of the vanity of the world, and to delight your soul with the great and glorious things which God has prepared for those that love him. This is the happiness of being free from labour and want, not to have spare time to squander away in vanity and impertinence, but to have spare time to spend in the study of wisdom, in the exercise of devotion, in the practice of piety, in all the ways and means of doing good and exalting our souls to a state of Christian perfection.

XVI. *It is a doctrine of scripture, and highly agreeable to reason, That unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required. Consider therefore that a life of leisure and freedom from want and hardships is as much as can well be given you in this world, as it is giving you an opportunity of living wholly to God, and making all the parts of your life useful to the best purposes. As sure therefore as it is a state, that has so many advantages that furnishes you with so many means of being eminent in piety, so sure it is, that it is a state from which God expects fruits that are worthy of it. Had it been your lot to labour in a mine, or serve under some cruel master, you must have served as unto God; and in so doing you had finished the work which God had given you. But as you are free from all this, you must look upon yourself as God’s servant, as called to chuse that way of labouring and spending your time, which may most promote that which God desires to be promoted. God has given you liberty to chuse, but it is only that you may have the blessedness of chusing the best ways of spending your time. Though therefore you are at liberty from servile and mean labour, yet you are under a necessity of labouring in all good works, and making all your time, and fortune, and abilities serviceable to the best ends of life. You have no more time that is your own, than he has that is to live by constant labour; the only difference betwixt you and him is this, that he is to be diligent in a poor, slavish labour, that oppresses the body, and dejects the mind; but you in a service that is perfect freedom, that renders your body a fit temple for the Holy Ghost, and fills your soul with such light, and peace, and joy, as is not to be found in any other way of life.

XVII. Do you think that a poor slave would displease God by refusing to act in that painful drudgery that is fallen to his share? And do you think that God will not be more displeased with you, if you refuse to act your full part in the best of labours, or neglect that happy business of doing good, which your state of life has called you to? ♦Is it expected that poor people should make a right use of their condition, and turn all their labour into a service unto God? And do you think you are not obliged to make a proper improvement of your condition, and turn all your rest, and ease, and freedom from labour, into service unto God? Tell me therefore no more that you indulge yourself in idle amusements, in vain, corrupt, and unedifying books, because you have spare time? For it is absolutely false to say that you have any such thing; it is saying, that because God has given you spare time from servile labour, time for all the instances of a holy and heavenly life; therefore you presume to throw it away in idleness and impertinence.

The End of the Fourth Volume.