The Christians Guide to Devotion.  
Printed for H. Rhodes near Bride lane in Fleetst  ●●●nford sc.  frontispiece   

The Christians Guide TO DEVOTION. WITH RULES and DIRECTIONS for the leading an Holy Life: AS ALSO MEDITATIONS and PRAYERS Suitable to all Occasions.  
By S. Smith.  
The Second Edition.  
LONDON, Printed for Hen. Rhodes, next door to the Bear-Tavern in Fleetstreet, near Fleet-Bridge, 1685.   

A Table of the Contents in this Tract.  

PART. I. Of the Nature and Effects of Devotion.  
Chap. 1. WHerein Devotion generally consists, Pag. 1.  
Chap. 2. Of its Effects, Pag. 6.  
Chap. 3. The high necessity of Devotion, Pag. 14.  
Chap. 4. Of its great Decay and Neglect, Pag. 20.  
Chap. 5. That Indevotion is a greater Sin than it is commonly accounted, Pag. 26.   

PART II. Of the Causes of Indevotion.  
Chap. 1. First, Impurity of Life, Pag. 34.  
Chap. 2. Secondly, Love of the World, Pag. 39  
Chap. 3. Thirdly, The too great Passion we have for Earthly Pleasures, Pag. 45.  
Chap. 4. Fourthly, Worldly Cares and Troubles, Pag. 52.  
Chap. 5. Fifthly, Excessive Business, Pag. 59  
Chap. 6. Sixthly, The custom of letting the Mind wander upon different Objects. Pag. 66.  
Chap. 7. Lastly, The Rareness and Interruption of holy Duties, Pag. 73.   

PART III. Of the great Source of Indevotion, the Spirit of the World, and the love of Pleasure.  
Chap. 1. That Voluptuousness is a mortal Enemy to Devotion: What are the Sentiments and Maxims of the World concerning the Use of Pleasure and Sensuality, Pag. 81.  
Chap. 2. That Sensual Pleasures do not, either in their Use, or in their Abuse, agree with the Spirit of Christianity and of Devotion. Pag. 94.  
Chap. 3. The same Truth more particularly and fully discussed, Pag. 104.  
Chap. 4. What may be accounted innocent Pleasures? That Devotion is no uneasy thing, nor an Enemy to Pleasure. Pag. 116.  
Chap. 5. That we are not to consult our own Heart and Senses upon the choice of Pleasures: That Devotion leads us to true Pleasure. Pag. 131.  
Chap. 6. That Young People have not any privilege to use sensual Pleasures, nor to dispense themselves from Devotion, Pag. 147.   

PART iv Of Directions and Helps conducive to Devotion.  
Chap. 1. First General direction: To will, desire, and ask it, Pag. 159.  
Chap. 2. Secondly, To lead an holy Life, and practise all the Virtues. Pag. 165.  
Chap. 3. Thirdly, To be watchful over the Senses, and not to let the Heart lose, Pag. 172.  
Chap. 4. Fourthly, To persevere in holy Duties, and not to startle at any difficulties, Pag. 177.  
Chap. 5. Fifthly, To have God always before our Eyes, Pag. 183.  
Chap. 6. First particular direction; To have our Hours of Devotion well chosen and ordered, Pag. 189.  
Chap. 7. The second Help: Solitude and Religious Assemblies, Pag. 196.  
Chap. 8. The third; Reading and Meditation. Pag. 203.  
Chap. 9 The fourth; Prayer. Pag. 212.  
Chap. 10. The Fifth; Fasting and mortification, Pag. 218.  
Chap. 11. Touching the rash Judgement which is made of devout People, Pag. 226.    

PART I.  

CHAP. I. What Devotion is, and wherein it consists.  
THIS is not a Subject to be defined according to Rules: It has less of the School than the Closet, and good ignorant Souls can instruct us better in it, than those who have more Knowledge than Integrity. Yet the Schools, which busy themselves every where, undertake to define Devotion as well as other things. Some would define it by a tenderness of heart, and 〈◊〉 mollified Spirit; Others by an internal Comfort, which the Devout are sensible of in their Practice of Piety: A third sort say, 'tis a Quickness and Promptitude of Mind, whereby holy People are carried to the Service of God. Some there are, who make it ●o consist in an unspeakable and a glorious Joy, which ●lls the faithful, and makes them say, My Soul is satisfied ●s with Marrow and Fatness. Others have defined it ●y the Affections. In the first place, to all this I say, That it may be a piece of Rashness to go about to de●ne a thing we know not how well to express; since 〈◊〉 is of the number of those which cannot well be con●●ived, but by them who feel it, nor can well be described, although one conceives it. Nevertheless we cannot define it by one word alone, nor by one motion of the Soul: for it is composed of all the Species' of Passions; it admits of contrary Sentiments. 〈◊〉 has Desires, and it has Fears; Terrors and Hopes 〈◊〉 Love and Hatred; Joy and Sadness; Ardour and Zea● Quickness and Alacrity. It has Desires; every Devout Soul vehemently desiring to be well with Go● and to be united to him. As the Hart panteth after t●● Water-brooks, so panteth my Soul after thee, O God. 〈◊〉 Soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: When shall come and appear before God? It admits of Fear; for good Soul is ever afraid of its unworthiness to posset the Graces which it so passionately desires; I am 〈◊〉 worthy, says it to our Lord Jesus, that thou shouldst co●● under my Roof. If it be in possession of its God, it fe●● to lose him; it watches even in sleep: I sleep, but 〈◊〉 Heart waketh: fearing, lest something should ravi●● away its Beloved.  
Terror also enters into the Compound of th● Virtue; namely, when the Soul is fallen into so●● great sin, the presence of its God astonishes it, and 〈◊〉 Majesty fills it with horrible Apprehensions. A●● without this, the devout Soul never presents it 〈◊〉 before God, but it remembers, that before him 〈◊〉 Angels tremble, and it says, Oh! how terrible is t● place; this is the House of the living God. Moreover Love is to be found in it, and we may say, that Lo●● is as the Source and Basis of Devotion. In considering both the Beauty and Goodness of God, it is touch with a violent desire of Union; It says with the Spo●● Let him kiss me with the kisses of his Mouth, for his L●● is sweeter than Wine. There is also Hatred; for 〈◊〉 devout Soul cannot love God, unless it renounce S● love, and hate the World, the love of which is inc●patible with that of God. There is Joy too, for ●●ty has its Feasts, and the Wise man says, the hea● a just man is a continual Banquet. Thou hast put, says David, more Joy in my heart, than the wicked have of their abundance, My heart is glad, my Glory rejoiceth: my Flesh also shall rest in hope. Yet we must confess, that this Light is not altogether pure: Devotion has its Melancholy amidst its Joys, and frequently it sighs at the sense of its Infirmities.  
The last ingredient of Devotion is Promptitude and Ardour, which is, as it were, the Body of Devotion, and appears more than the rest in a devout Soul. It has an inconceivable cheerfulness in the exercises of Piety; it hears the Word; it Prays; it Reads; it Meditates; it communicates; as others do the most Pleasant things in the World. It runs, it flies to these actions, and undertaking 'em with a Gaiety of heart, does 'em with great ease. These are, methinks, the movements that compose Devotion; but we must observe, that in all People, they are not evermore in the same degree. Always some one of them does Reign: sometimes Joy bears sway, another while Grief; oftentimes Alacrity, other times the Desires. And hence it comes to pass, that if we consult the Devout upon the nature of Devotion, they will answer us very differently, because every one will say, that he feels within himself, and that every one feels within himself things very different from those of other men. It happens also, that one and the same Soul feels a different Devotion at divers times; the Motions, whereof we have spoken, ruling by Turns; To day a faithful Person shall be filled with hope in the view of a blessing to come, and to morrow with joy in the possession of the present good. One time by reason of his Sins, Sadness shall domineer; another time the Desires shall reign: and this alteration proceeds from the diversity of Estates, wherein the Conscience finds itself, and the variety of Prospects, which Meditations presents it withal, in considering God some times with respect had to his Love and Mercy, other times to his Severity and Justice. Frequently too he will eye his Conscience both in its strongest and in its weakest parts; and this may change some things in the Agitations of his Devotion. Cheerfulness likewise, which seems to be the very Essence and Soul of this Virtue, is not inseparable from it, and sometimes the most heavenly Souls find themselves under a gloomy and sad weight: But when this Briskness is absent, its place is possessed by a stinging Displeasure for its Absence.  

Meditation.  
ALas! my Soul, how ignorant art thou in things Divine! The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him. These are profound Abysses, which thou canst not sound: Thy light is nothing but darkness: But yet astonishing it is not, that thou knowest not heavenly things, which God has reserved to himself, and locked up in his own Breast. 'Tis more strange, thou knowest not what God does in this, and art ignorant of those Divine things, which are in thy Heart. Vain and haughty, as thou art, with the advantages which Nature has given thee above the visible Creatures, thou sayest, thou art an incarnate Angel; say rather, that thou art an Angel imprisoned in a dark and dismal mansion, who knowest but in part, and see'st but in part, obscurely, and as in a Glass, through the thick veil of Flesh and Blood.   

Prayer.  
O My God, thou Father of Lights, from whom cometh every good and perfect gift, open mine eyes, that I may see the wondrous things of thy Law. I am a Stranger upon Earth, and a Sojourner: Oh! hid not from me thy Commandments. I am enquiring into the Nature of Devotion: I shall not be able to know it without thee. In vain shall I search for it in the works of another, unless I find it in mine own Heart. I do not find what I seek for there, where then shall I find it? Even in thee my God, who art the Source of what I look for. Raise therefore in my Heart those flames of Zeal and Piety, that being filled therewith my Soul may not need but to study itself to attain this knowledge, and after the attainment may be able to love it, and make others do so too. Let it sparkle and shine in all my Words and Actions like a Torch that lights my Neighbours, and let it kindle in them the holy flames of Devotion.    

CHAP. II. Of the Effects of Devotion.  
IN speaking of the nature of Devotion in the precedent Chapter, we insinuated all its Effects: but it will not be amiss nor unprofitable to unfold them a little more: for, these Effects, well understood, will lead us to the knowledge of the Cause, and serve us for a Touchstone, whereby pious Souls may try both the purity and the progress of their Devotion.  
The first of these effects is a vehement Passion, to converse with God and pour forth our grief into his Bosom; to hear his Word, and to receive the Gauges of his Love in his Sacraments. You see this Disposition in David, who sighs after the House of God, and finds nothing in his Exile more insupportable than his Banishment from the Court of the Lord's House. Jealous he is of the Condition of the Swallows, that build their Nests there. He would be a Doorkeeper in this house, and never stir from thence; My Soul hath a desire to enter into thy Courts, says he: I have asked one thing of the Lord, that I may dwell in his house all the days of my life. He avows, that the hopes of seeing God again in his house do sustain him, and keep him from falling into Despair: I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the Goodness of the Lord in the Land of the Living. The faithful Soul has no less Passion for the Solitude of its Closet than David had for the Temple of his God; It looks upon those hours as lost which 'tis obliged to throw away upon the World; and as soon as it can withdraw itself from the hurry and bustle of Affairs, it runs to the Bosom of its God, as the Hart to the Water-brooks; as a covetous Person to the search of Riches; as a Courtier watches for the Hour and Place to see his Prince and to be seen, and receive from him considerable Favours.  
A second Effect is a Joy, which we may call inconceivable, when the Devout in their Devotions feel their Heart displayed, and the Holy Ghost appears with all the Riches of his Grace, and all the Treasures of his Consolations. If any one should inquire of such a Soul why it is so satisfied, perhaps it would be an hard matter for it to tell him: but the true cause of this Joy is, That God does exert in it his comfortable and wholesome Rays, which are ever accompanied with a plenary Happiness. The Pleasure which an avaricious man takes in counting his Money, which the ambitious taste in hoping for new Grandeurs, which the Epicurean finds in his Feasts and Debauches; all this, I say, is unsavoury and of a bad taste in comparison of that Joy which the pious Soul perceives in communicating with its God. This is an Ocean which overwhelms and drowns all the Perplexities and Troubles of the Flesh. The Persecuted find here their Sanctuary; the Poor, Riches; the Sick-man, Health; the Contemptible, Glory; the Humble, Grandeur; and the Miserable, a general Oblivion of all his Calamities. This is that wherein a Soul, tired with the World, finds that heavenly Repose, which makes it with Indignation, and yet with Pity, look upon the cruel Agitations of worldly men, that are tied to the racking Wheels and Stones of Ixion's and Sisyphus', that is to say, to Labours, that always return and never have an end.  
Hence springs another effect of Devotion; namely, To forget this World. When the Devout Person shuts the door of his Closet, we may say, he shuts the door to the World, saying to himself, Get ye gone ye worldly Thoughts; retire ye Objects of Vanity, and approach not near this place; let me rejoice in the quiet of this secure Sanctuary, and suffer me to give myself wholly up to my God. The pious Soul after this manner dies many times a day: for Death does not more efface the Images of worldly things, than Devotion, when it takes a Christian out of the World. This Soul may say at such a time, The World is crucified unto me, and I unto the World: I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me; and the Life which I now live in the Flesh I live by the Faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. We need not wonder if the World quits the place in this moment, since I suppose, that it before took up but very little Room in the Soul, whereof I speak. God comes to possess it wholly, of which he had before the better; for the devout Heart ventures to say, The whole is in God, and God is in every part. In this state, if by peradventure it casts its Eyes upon the World, it looks down from on high, and with an Eye of Contempt. Alas! What are these same Riches, says the faithful Soul, these Honours and Advantages, which frequently terminate in eternal Death, to compare with the Riches that God here bestows upon me? But near to God himself, whom I possess, these earthly Goods will vanish and be lost; but I will never lose him who holds me and whom I hold: and Death, which will disrobe the Living of their Pomp, will invest me with new Glory.  
The fourth Effect of Devotion is, an Alacrity in running and advancing in the Practice of Piety. A General flies to the Combat when he sees an assured Victory: but the devout Person has other kind of wings, which make him fly whither Devotion conducts him. He knows not, that 'tis the drooping and weight of the Body that retains them who are called to Travel: he has not the Sentiments of the Sluggard, who rolls upon his Bed as a Gate upon its Hinges, who fight Battles with his Bolster, and wages Wars with Sleep and Idleness, with a Design to be vanquished. He is one of those Eagles, of which some think our Saviour spoke, Where the dead Body is, thither will the Eagles be gathered together. He knows that he shall find his Jesus, once dead, but now alive, either in the Church or in his Closet: he flies thither with the Swiftness of an hungry Eagle; nothing is capable of stopping him; Friends, Enemies, Employs, Occupations, Prayers, Menaces, Fears and Dangers, all useless: for in posting he can surmount all Obstaeles in the way.  
Another Effect of Devotion is, a certain Elevation of Soul, which I cannot term otherwise than a sort of Ecstasy, whereby the Soul is as it were, ravished from its self. 'Tis so knit to the Contemplation of Celestial Objects, that not only it has no more intelligence of earthly things, but it has no Sense, no Ears, no Eyes; it sees not, it understands not St. Peter, while he prayed, saw the Heavens opened, and a certain Vessel descending to the Earth, as it had been a great sheet knit at the four Corners. St. Paul in Prayer was ravished even to the third Heaven; and the Devout even at this time of day have their Ecstasy. They see with Stephen the Heavens opened; they are lifted up to Heaven with St. Paul; for they enter into a secret Commerce with God. The Soul inwardly is so taken up, that it sees nothing at all of what passes without; and contributing its whole force to the Contemplation of God, no Wonder, it has no more for other Objects. Blessed are they, says St. Basil, who are filled with, and enfolded in the Contemplation of this true Beauty; since being bound to it by the Cords of Charity, and of an heavenly and divine Love, they forget their Parents, Friends, Houses; they forget even the necessity of eating and drinking. And now why should it not be so in the Offices of Piety, when every day this happens to us in the Affairs of the World? While we are strongly fixed to Reading, to disentangle a crabbed and knotty matter, while we answer an Adversary, a thousand Objects pass before our eyes, whereof we do not take notice. The devout Soul is so shut into itself, so well gathered up and compacted, that no external thing is able to move it. If it prays, it is entirely in Heaven; if it hears, it is wholly tied up to the Tongue of him that speaks; if it reads, its heart is always where the eyes terminate themselves; if it meditates, it is all over plunged in its subject; and if a Flock of Birds, of vain and light Thoughts, come to soil its Sacrifice, as that of Abraham, it scares them away incontinently. This is that which I understand by the Ecstasy of Devotion: otherwise, if you take this term for effectual Ravishments, which were the Privileges of the Prophets and Saints of the first Order, I must take an infinite deal of pains to believe that the Holinesses of the Roman Cloister do oblige God (as some would fain persuade us) so ordinarily to communicate such extraordinary Graces. Now a days we do not see those Devotions, which lift up not only the Souls, but make the Body to lose its Earth, and raise it to the very Clouds: Nevertheless, if we would believe some, who call themselves good Authors, there is nothing more common.  
The last Effect of Devotion that I shall mention, is, a certain Fire that warms the Heart. One cannot well conceive it unless one had felt it; and I cannot express it otherwise than in the words of holy men: Did not our Heart burn within us while he talked with us, and while he opened to us the Scriptures? My Heart was hot within me; while I was meditating, the Fire burned; then spoke I with my Tongue. We are told, how the Faces of the Saints have been oftentimes seen to be bright and inflamed in the midst of their Devotions, which could not proceed but from the glowing and fiery affection of the Heart, which manifests itself accordingly in the Countenance. This Fire we may call a Fermentation of the Spirits of Piety, which not seldom make Impressions even in the eyes. And hence, it may be, came the shining of St. Stephen's Face; of which it is said, that his Enemies saw it as if it had been the Face of an Angel; his Zeal and his Devotion were evident in his Eyes, and rendered 'em sparkling. Now this Lightning is not without its Rain; I mean, that this Fire is ordinarily accompanied with Tears. The Heart is heated, blows up that Heat, makes it grow bigger; than itself grows tender, and at last the Eyes melt into Tears. St. Austin represents himself in one of these Illuminations, or rather, Inflammations of Heart. After, says he, that a strong Meditation had drawn out all my Misery from the bottom, where it lay hid, to present it to the Eyes of my Heart, there arose a great Tempest, which was followed by a great Shower of Tears. This weeping does not always come from a Sense of Sin; 'tis sometimes caused by a jarring diversity of Thoughts, and a confusion of good Emotions, which cast the Soul into a sort of Disorder, but which is much better than the greatest Calm.  

Meditation.  
HOW were it to be wished, that men were as holy, as they are Eloquent and knowing? pourtraicts they make, but where shall we find the Originals? I see plainly, that the characters of true Devotion are curious and ravishing: but, alas! the more I enter into this Meditation, the more do I continue confused. When I consider what I ought to be, to be devout, and I examine what I myself am, I find that I am nothing, or that I am not just what I should be, I do not find in myself those ardent desires to be with my God, and to converse with him by holy Prayer and Meditation. My Soul languishes, but it is not after the house of my God, nor after the solitude of my Cabinet. It languishes, for it is feeble and weak in all the motions of Piety. I do violence to my own heart, in drawing it out of the clutches of the World, to put it into the hands of God. I enter into my Closet, to do my Exercises of Piety, rather to acquit myself of a Duty, which I have imposed on myself, than to follow my own inclinations. Where is that Joy, which I ought to taste in the Acts of my Devotion? Where is that being unbound from the World, renouncing of all carnal thoughts? where is that Fervour and Alacrity, the Ecstasies, the Flames, the Illuminations of that heavenly fire, whereof I am a reading the description? All is dead in me: If I would quit the World to enter into my Closet, I carry it still along with me. In all the faculties of my Soul I feel a monstrous weight and dulness, which arrests all my Elevations, and makes me tumble down back again to the Earth; my Jerting up are feeble and of a short Durance, they hardly go half Way to Heaven.   

Prayer.  
HAve pity on my sad Estate, my Father, and my God: Draw me, and I will run after thee. Why should I remain in the shadow of Death? Thou Sun of righteousness, that carriest healing in thy Wings, raise me up and quicken me: Let the East from on high visit me with the Bowels of his Mercy. Let my heart burn within me, whilst I read thy Scriptures, and hear thy Word: Let my Prayers be ardent, and my Piety constantly sustained by the force and flames of thy Grace and loving kindness. And thou, my Soul, do not attend this loving kindness with Arms across: go meet it, call and say, Come Lord Jesus, come quickly, O God of my Salvation, awaken my heart. Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee Life. Chase away sloth, let it no longer lie in the bed of security: banish all coldness: rid thyself of that burdensome weight that oppresses thee: Take the Wings of an Eagle, and to Heaven fly into the bosom of thy Saviour, and thou shalt find Sweets which thou hast never yet tasted never seen, never heard of, and which never entered into thy. Imagination to conceive.    

CHAP. III. The great necessity of Devotion.  
WHO can doubt on't, and is it not sufficient barely to know and to describe it, to persuade us to it? Devotion is the Soul of the Soul, and the very Life of Piety. 'Tis that which sets a price and value upon the Duties and the Worship of a faithful Soul. A due Preparation is necessary to every thing. An Orator who is to speak in public first amasses his matter together, and then assays to put it into a good Form: A Soldier being to fight, prepares his Army, and rouzes his courage. He that goes to a Marriage, puts on a Wedding Garment: And why then do we take upon us to present ourselves before God in Prayer, in reading, or in hearing his Word, in imploring his Assistance, or rendering him Actions of Gratitude, without having the holy disposition of Piety and Devotion, that are before him of so great Price?  
We do ever that thing well, which we do hearty: but when the Heart is no Party in the business, it avails nothing. The Soldier who carries not his Heart along with him, turns his back in the day of battle: and the Orator, whose Heart is not touched with what he says, will never touch that of others. If without the Heart we cannot perform the works of the Tongue and of the Hand, how shall the work of the heart itself be done without the Heart? This is what I call the Exercises of Piety and the Service of God. A Lute, can it be played upon, unless it be stringed and tuned? can a Bow shoot unless it be bend? the Heart is an Instrument and a Lute, the sound whereof charms the Ears of the Almighty; but it must be strung with all its Virtues as with strings, and Devotion must be to it a kind of Soul, that makes every thing else to act. Prayer is an Arrow, that flies to the heavens, but Devotion only gives it both strength and Feathers. Prayer is a Sacrifice and an offering of the Heart. We must not therefore present common Riches to God without preparation and choice; and the Passover-Lamb was separated from the Flock four days before its Immolation.  
Let not the Sinner then offer to God dirty and soiled Prayers, but pure and devout ones; let him separate his heart from the vanities of the World and the Folly of his vain thoughts, if he will be wellpleasing to God.  
Without Devotion the Soul is dead, the heart is but in its Body as in its Grave; What rashness then to lay a dead and corrupted Beast upon the Altars of God? will not God say; I hate your Oblations, the Peace-Offerings of your fat Beasts, and the perfume of your Incense; I cannot away with them. Devotion is a Fire, without which our Sacrifices could not be consumed. It's a Fire coming down from Heaven; it's an emanation of the Rays of the Sun of Righteousness; it's what must lift up the Smoke of our incense to Heay'n. Assure thyself, thou Christian Soul, that thy offerings are in the right way, and that the Flames of Devotion are alone capable of piercing those Clouds thickened by Iniquity, that separate us from God. The matter that makes thunderbolts so massy and heavy, would not always be mounted in the middle Region of the Air, from whence we see 'em hurled down upon the Earth, were it not carried upon the Wings of some inflamed Exhalations. In like manner our Earthly Prayers as well as our hearts would not be able to mount the Skies, did not the flames of Devotion lift them up. So that we ought to put our heart into a good condition to hope a good success of its worship. Tho never so much prepared, it cannot be too good for him to whom we ought to present it. It will be an acceptable thing to be received in this Estate. And what on the contrary can we expect in presenting to him an indevout Soul, but a shameful and sad refusal? God does not hear our prayers, unless the Heart be disposed to make them; Seek and ye shall find, saith our Lord; but seek with zeal, otherwise ye shall not find. God said once, I was found of them that sought me not. But this does not happen every day: this is but one of those singular events, whereby general Rules are not established. But the Law in common bears, Ask and it shall be given. Lay hold on the Kingdom of Heaven and thou shalt obtain it. To what is not Devotion useful? It is of use in all Places, all times and all things as well in the Closet as the Church? thereby we hear the Word pronounced by men as if it were truly the word of God, and receive it as the dry and chapped Earth does the rain. Hereby the Consecration of the Divine benefits touches us, the thought of God's love inflames us, his promises comfort us, his threaten terrify us, and his Consolations have their Efficacy upon us. Without this, the word, which ought to be a twoedged Sword, recoils and turns its edge on the hardness of our hearts; and without this we join the Sin of Insensibility to that of Impenitence. By this we look upon every thing in the Church with veneration; the Preacher as the Ambassador of the Gospel; his Word as the voice of Heaven; The Faithful as the Children of God, and as it were a Troop of Angels, that always rejoice in his presence; the Sacraments as precious vessels, the appearance whereof is contemptible, but which do contain the Treasures of his Grace and Mercy. It's Devotion that makes our Closets to become little Churches, whether the Divinity descends, and upon which it extends its Wings like the Cherubims over the Mercy-seat; where God speaks to our heart as we speak to his ears; where he makes us understand his Oracles, and taste his Consolations; where he says to us in a still small voice, My Son or my Daughter, Be of good cheer, arise, thy Sins are forgiven thee. Oh! how blessed is the faithful Soul, that God honours with such sacred Entertainments. Now he does never do this, but when called upon, if not forced by an ardent Devotion. These desires of Devotion may be the Eyes of the Spouse, whereof it is said, Turn away thine Eyes from me, for they have overcome me. Far be from hence those profane Wretches, that know not the use of Devotion. They say, that Valour is the Rampart of Estates, and the Tutelary Angel of the Public and of Privates; that Liberality sweetens the misfortunes of the miserable; that Justice is the nurse of Peace and the ligament of Society; that Temperance causes tranquillity of mind, and health of Body; But say they, Devotion, 'tis alone, that is good for nothing but to render the mind weak and effeminate, and to depress the Spirits. Do not call so universal a Virtue unprofitable, without which all the rest are mere shadows: for he, that having not a habit of Devotion, does not refer all his virtues to the Glory of God, is a bad good man. Do not call that an useless Virtue which appeases the wrath of God, and turns away the Tempests flying over States; a Virtue which had drawn Sodom out of the Fire, had there been found there but ten devout Persons like Abraham, who would have Devoutly with him interceded for it; a Virtue, which saves the Church so often from shipwreck; a Virtue, which in the Conscience raises up and establishes a profound Peace and a Divine Light. Do not faith that it softens the Mind; seeing it confirms the Courage, makes men run to death as to a Feast, makes 'em to despise Perils, and in its occasions mannages nothing wherein the Glory of God is not concerned.  

Meditation.  
SEE one of the causes of my lukewarmness, and one of the reasons, why my Soul is little devout. The necessity of Devotion it comprehends not; whereas it knows, that Food is necessary for the conservation of its bodily Life. It desires nourishment with a great ardour, and searches after it with a marvellous diligence: But negligent it is in all those things which serve to nourish Piety and the flames of Devotion, since it does not believe, that 'tis of any great use. Thou see'st, O my Soul, some, who save themselves with a languishing Piety, and go to Heaven at a very slow pace; Thou persuadest thyself that God will not be more rigorous to thee, and that there will not be more exacted from thee than from others: But alas! what an error and fallacy is there in this reasoning? Such an one, as thou believest to be in the way to Heaven, is a marching towards Hell. There is such a way, that seems right to man, the end of which nevertheless is Death. These i'll Devotions, wherewith People believe God is well paid, are oftentimes very fruitless. They may think it fine one day to say, we have prayed to thee, we have invoked thy Name, we have served thee; The Lord will not fail to answer, I do not know who ye are, go far from me, ye that are neither cold nor hot; I will cast you up out of my mouth.   

Prayer.  
MY God, conduct my Soul in the surest path. I know not how to sound thy Mercy, nor do I know how far the severity of thy Juctice will carry itself and no further. I know not whether thou wilt pardon so many People, that serve thee with so little Zeal and so much indevotion. That which I know is, that they are unworthy of thy clemency, an● that they cannot be saved unless they sincerely repent of having served thee with so much indifference. Let the Candle of my Soul, th● holy Spirit, which has enlightened thy Church in all ages, and the faithful at all times, inspire me with such frankincense of Devotion as with which I know that one may be saved and without which I know not, if one ca● be saved; Kindle my heart that it may be an Altar, where an eternal Fire may burn in which all my sacrifices may be consumed and which may make all my prayers as th● Perfumes of incense to mount up in thy Presence.    

CHAP. IU. That Devotion is extremely rare, and neglected.  
HERE is an Exception to the general Rule, that things rare are esteemed: nothing in the World more rare than Devotion, and nothing more neglected. Herein men do not sin through Ignorance; they know very well, what we have said in the precedent Chapter, that without these devout dispositions or Prayers they cannot please God. Nevertheless one cannot Express the horrible negligence with which they perform this pious Duty as well as all others. People come to these exercises with a prodigious sloth: 'tis visible, that Custom ●rains us to 'em, when our inclinations carry us another ●ay. 'Tis the fear of the scourge and the Batton which makes Slaves to go: for we go thither as to a ●ask and a laborious work. What we do with regret, ●s little we make it as possible: whereupon we rob ●he World of one quarter of an hour in the day to bestow upon God: after which we believe all is well enough, and that God may very well spare us the rest. We go about this work, as if it were a burden to us; we make haste with it, that it may be soon over; and when we are arrived to a Period, it looks, as if a mighty Load were taken off of our shoulders. Judge then, if one can do well, what one does in this wise. We think not of what we are a going to do, nor of what we do. We ought to daunt and amaze ourselves in considering the Majesty, before whose eyes we go to appear; and we come thither in such an heedless manner, as if we went to the meanest of Mankind. Are we got up the Mountain? our heart is still in Sodom: We wander through the Universe, and stretch our uncertain Gadding of thought even to the Imaginary Spaces: our imagination is filled with Crotesques and Phantoms. The most part roll their Prayers upon their Tongues in a Torrent of words, neither the Heart nor the Imagination having any thing to do there: And so small an Impression is made upon the heart, that nothing appears a moment afterwards. In going from the Exercises of Devotion, every one ought to examine himself, to know, whether his faith, his charity, his hope, have received considerable augmentations; but he thinks of nothing less: every one running whither Interest or pleasure calls him, leaving his Conscience without examination.  
Questionless, the greatest part, after their Prayers, may find their Conscience in a worse estate than before; so that this Examination being so far from producing Peace to 'em, would increase their Inquietu● If their Prayers be indevout, their other Exerci● are they less so? If in hearing the word of God th● lend some attention, 'tis not to the things themselves but to the manner wherein they are spoken. If th● Preacher has not the Talon and Knack of pleasing, th● don't hear him, he does not Edify, say they, he can't ke● one a wake: and after this a piece it is of good Conseence to be able to sleep at Sermon: Insomuch as he spea● to Deaf People, and our Churches, from whence 〈◊〉 have banished Images, cease not to be Temples of Idol which have Eyes and Ears, and yet neither fee ne● hear. The Preacher seems to have in his han● the head of Medusa; when he appears, every thing 〈◊〉 turned into Marble: and the word of God is a Char● that makes Stones of the Children of Abraham, instea● of making the Children of Abraham of Stones. 〈◊〉 good part of those that hear, do only retain wh● they judge may afford fit matter to their Censures an● their profane Raillery's. They pass by an excelled thing, and pick out a bad word: That is to say, in 〈◊〉 field covered over with Riches they gather a Thorn o● a Flint, and let the Flowers and the Fruits alon● They that are less guilty, hear and would make a good use of what they understand; but their Will is very imperfect, and is not of a very long duration; since 〈◊〉 ceases almost as soon as the Preacher ceases to spea● What Indevotion and what coldness have we not in the partaking of the Lords Supper; in which venerable Sacrament God gives us his flesh to eat and his Blood to drink? our Piety is not now divided into a crowd of Worships and Services, as it was under the Law: all is reduced to a few Ceremonies, and for the Adult but one Sacrament. In such a case therefore we ought to rendezvouz all our Devotion, and give to this one pledge of God's Love all the zeal and ardour, which the Israelites were obliged to have for those many and different Ceremonies, the Law commanded. The Flame that is scattered, burns very little: the Sunbeams quartered into several places have small effects; but being assembled and contracted in the centre of a Burning-Glass, they kindle Wood and melt Metals. It would be the same if our Devotion did reunite itself in this Divine Object: it would consume all our Vanities, and melt the Ice of our Souls. If we were devout in the participation of this holy Sacrament, our faith would pierce the Appearance and the despicable outside to contemplate the Flesh within of the Son of God, and all the Miracles of our Salvation. But we stick at the Bark; we come thither as to a common Repast; we bring with us our Indevotion, and carry away along with us for a wretched Companion our Damnation.  
What we see in public is a shrewd and an evident signification of what we do not see; and 'tis a difficult matter to judge charitably of the Devotions of the Closet, since we have so little reason to be content with those in the Church; if People do somewhat for Glory, and for the Pleasure of being approved, when they will release themselves of that Trouble, at their having no Witnesses. Let none then accuse us of violating the Rights of Retreat and Secrecy, if we say, that private Devotions are yet more drowfie and restless; as he who sleeps at Sermon will hardly keep awake at reading a single Chapter upon words abandoned of sound and voice, which oppose themselves to sleep. Every one hath his Voice in this World, and every Condition has its Fauls; the Merchant is covetous, and oftentimes deceitful, for his Interest; the Courtier is ambitious; the Magistrate corruptible; the poor man impatient; the Rich haughty; but Indevotion is the Crime of all men in general. We will not say of All, if you please, but will confess, there are some good Souls, who groan to themselves expand their Hearts before God with much Zeal, an● make such Sabbaths their Delights. But how few ar● these Examples! Perhaps it would be a hard business to find ten such righteous Persons in Sodom: and since that Exceptions do not destroy general Rules, this will not hinder us from complaining of our Age, as of an Age of Iron, so cold, the like is not to be found in Geeen-land.  

Meditation.  
I Am not called to examine others: I see very well, that Devotion is a thing very scarce in the World. This ought infinitely to afflict me by reason of the part I take in the Interests of my God. This aught to make me afraid, lest the World should become a Sodom, and be made like unto Gomorrah, and lest God should tumble down upon it the Effects of his Vengeance, and his Deluges of Fire and Brimstone. But lo a thing that touches me much nearer: 'tis the seldomness of devout motions in my Heart. This unhappy Heart of mine is made, I think, of Marble and Ice. How is't possible it should continue insensible amidst so many Objects which are capable to move it? How can it be ungrateful when it is environed with so many Favours from Heaven? How is it possible it should not tremble before him, whose Presence makes the Angels to tremble? Why does not my Soul, that is changed and destitute of all Good, run with ardour to a Source so pure and so refreshing? One Tear I cannot draw from my Eyes, nor one Sighs from my Heart. Every day I present myself before my God with dry Eyes, with an humble Body, but with a proud Soul, and frequently with so great an Air of Negligence, that the Tone of my Voice, the Posture of my Members, and generally all that is seen and heard in me, speaks my Indevotion. When have I insulted over my own Heart? how often have I said to myself, thou wicked Soul, why dost thou not quake and shiver within me? why dost thou not fear him, whom none can fear enough? and why dost thou not love him infinitely, who has infinitely loved thee? If thou lov'dst and fear'dst this God as thou oughtest, this God sovereignly adorable, whom the Angel's love and fear, thou couldst not be cold in his Service, nor adore him in so languishing a manner.   

Prayer.  
ALas, my God thou seest how I groan under the burden of my Corruption an● of my Indevotion. Help me then to rid myself of 'em, so that those motions of Piety and Zeal which thou lovest so much, may henceforth be as frequent in my Soul as they have been rareby till this prese●● that the movements of my Devotion may not resemble those Sparks, which fly up from a great company of Embers, and then grow cold and are extinguished; but be of those pure slames, which burn perpetually, even in the midst of Water, and resist the Storm● and Tempests of Temptation, Corruption, and bad Examples. And that being far from suffering myself to be carried away by the Torrent of Corruption and Indevotion, which obtains even in the Sanctuary, I may cause my Righteousness to shine like a Candle in the midst of Darkness.    

CHAP. V That Indevotion is a far greater crime than it is commonly thought.  
TOuching the indevotion of the Profane, I do no speak, but of those that would be called th●t children of God. I speak of all those neglects and coldnesses, of all those distractions, and vain and carnal thoughts, which traverse the exercises of Piety. The principal reason of the commonness of this crime is, the opinion which people have, that it is a very small fault. There is nothing which they do not say and imagine to flatter themselves in this Vice. One says 'tis the nature of the Soul to be active and boiling; we cannot fix it upon one only object; it takes fire and evaporates, even when we believe we can holdit: It is, say they, a Malady of the Soul, of which itself is not culpable. Ah! certainly, if it were an evil entirely unvoluntary, it would very well deserve we should deplore the misery of the Soul. 'Tis a sign of a strange Irregularity, and a proof that Sin is caused within by great disorders. If you see a man in the midst of a discourse of good sense wander all on a sudden and speak a thousand impertinences and extravagant things, will not you say, he has a Desultory wit, and an ill-biassed Spirit? Is it not a proof of a great Disorder in the heart, to perceive one's self in the midst of ones devout thoughts to evaporate, to go and take a leap from ones self and the Subject, to fall into a thousand Chimerical imaginations? But further, I say, there is as much of a crime as of misery in this Evil. It's sufficient to know that Sin is the cause of this disorder, to be assured there is sin in it. The Product of a criminal cause cannot be Innocent: and I fancy that the inferior part of the Soul being corrupted by Sin is like to marish and fenny places, from whence Vapours are continually elevated to Heaven, which oftentimes obscures the Sun. Our passions, 'tis true, do raise up the Clouds of vain and evil thoughts, that rob our hearts of the Sun's sight: but what of this? does it not follow, that this is not a great evil? do not all crimes come from this Source, and are they therefore the less to be condemned?  
We imagine that the mind of man cannot be fixed, which is false, and a thousand Experiments can show us the contrary. Were you to appear before a great Prince to defend your Life, you would think so eagerly and earnestly upon the business, that no other thing would be allowed admittance into the thoughts: in speaking to him you would not suffer the least Distraction. The Niggard that counts his Treasures, does not hear when any one comes to knock at the Door of his Cabinet. A man that is upon an important Affair, and gives up his mind to it, never finds these wander of Imagination. It's true then, that it is possible to hinder this Levity of mind, whereof we complain, as of an incurable evil. Thus in the vice of Indevotion there's a sort of Pride of being unwilling to humble ourselves worthily before God, in whose presence all Nature trembles. I would fain know, whether a King would take it well, that in doing him Reverence one should turn his back upon him, or that one should do him Homage with an air of disdain: and this is what we do to God. We give him not the very Moiety of our heart. To slight and despise him, whom the Angels adore, can it be called a Peccadillo? The Lord reigneth, let the Earth be moved, are very rare words in our mouth. And seeing that God does not immediately avenge himself on the great contemners of his Majesty, without fear we take up an habit of defying him. Unquestionably if there were nothing else in Indevotion besides the crime of Disobedience, 'twould be enough to render us worthy of all the most severe punishments. We know mighty well that God commands us Ardour and Zeal: and we cannot be ignorant, how he calls us to take the Kingdom of Heaven by Violence. We hear it said every day, that he casts up the Lukewarm out of his mouth. We read every where, that the way of the Faithful aught to be in a swift Course, and not a slow walk. And in short, we know very well, that he would have us be eaten up with the Zeal of his House. Maugre all these Commands and Orders, still cold we are and languishing. Who then shall be obeyed if God be not? He who maketh his Angel's Spirits and his Ministers a flaming fire: he who hath so many means to revenge himself upon Rebels, and to reward the Obedient: he lastly, whose commands are ever just and ever holy.  
Let no one tell me then, that this is a light fault, since 'tis a most assured proof that we love not God. 'Tis not so, when we search after the things of the World. Seek for Wisdom, says the Wiseman, as Silver, and search for her as for hid Treasures. Ah! would to God we could make such an exchange of Sentiments, as tó give to the World those thoughts which we have for heavenly things, and to render to heavenly things what we have for the World. Is not this a crime which cannot be aggravated, to refuse God the Ardour, the Attention, the fond affections we have for the Earth; a crime which deprives us of God, is not at all trivial? A Sin that robs us of the Divine Consolations is not to be neglected. 'Tis for this crime we taste so few Delights in our Devotions, because God will not let himself be found but by those that seek him, and bestows not those Divine Consolations but upon such Souls as are a living thirst after them, as the Hart is a thirst after the running Waters.  
But supposing with these flattering consciences, that the Distractions and Lithernesses of Devotion are Sins of Infirmity, and by consequence, less severely punished, what shall we say of a great number of them, and of frequent Relapses? will this be taken for nothing too? If thou slightest thy sins because they are little ones, fear them rather by reason they are in a great number, saith St. Augustin. If they should appear light in the Balance of the Sanctuary, the very reckoning will destroy us; since, in a word, we return to 'em every day. Than grains of Sand nothing is more small; but yet if we heap them together, we may in time make up a Mountain. We advance step after step towards Hell; and of what importance is it, what brings us thither, whether a great Sin or many small ones? we are still Damned nevertheless. The Egyptians that were oftentimes troubled with Frogs and Flies, would not be reduced till the uttermost extremity: Wherefore let us not call those small Sins, which find a place in Hell, if they be not expiated by Repentance: but let us rather say with a Doctor of the eleventh Century, Peradventure thou wilt believe some of thy Sins very puny and small: would to God, that our severe Judge would or could judge them such. But alas, does not all Sins dishonour God through Disobedience? how then can the Sinner call those small that offend so great a God? O dry and sapless Tree, unprofitable, and worthy of eternal flames, what wilt thou be able to answer at that day when thou shalt render an account in the twinkling of an eye, when thou shall put every moment of thy life into the Balance, and when it shall be demanded of thee, in what thou hast spent thy time? then shall a process be made of all that can be found in thee, not only of thy words but of thy very silence. Thy least thoughts will be examined: even thy life will be a part of thy crimes, if thou hast not lived for thy God. Oh! how many Sins will start then out of some Place, where thou hadst never seen them before? they will seize upon thee as by Ambuscado. They will appear to thee more terrible and in a greater number. The Works which thou didst believe not to be evil, nay, which thou considerest as good, shall be looked upon by all as ghastly and black Sins. This difference, saith St. Basil, of great and little Sins, is not to be found in the New Testament: one only sentence is pronounced against all: he that does sin is the Servant of Sin. And if we give ourselves the liberty to distinguish and discriminate Sins into Mortal and Venial, or great, or little, it ought to be in this Sense, that we call all Sins great whereby we are overcome, and all Sins little, which we are armed to that pass as to vanquish: As among Swordmen, the conquered is ever esteemed the more Feeble, and the Conqueror the stouter. How happy then is that man, that strikes a terror into himself, and is delivered from this dangerous Prejudice, that Indevotion is a light and a pardonable crime.  

Meditation.  
ALas! this is an Illusion, against which I have great need to defend my Heart. What a bending and an inclination have I to flatter myself in my Sins, and to believe them light! Wretched Soul, thou perceivest not thy Disease: thou believest thyself in a good constitution of Health, and it may be thou art going down to the Chambers of Death. 'Tis a dangerous Malady This, to fancy I am in health and not to be so. O my Heart! open thine Eyes, and see the Dangers whereinto thou dost continually cast me. To day my Sins appear very small, but one day they will appear to me very great. Let me not wait and delay any longer to acknowledge the greatness, and feel the weight of them; so that from this present I may have 'em in detestation, and may repent of them in Sackcloth and Ashes. At such a time my repentance would be too late: I should know the mischief, but could find no more remedy. I drink Sin, as a Fish drinks Water: I do not think it affrightful, because I am so accustomed to its sight, and I fancy my Sins small, for that I compare them to the greatest, and above all, I count my Dulness and my Indevotion for nothing, seeing I persuade myself, that the name of God cannot be offended but by Impieties and Blasphemies.   

Prayer.  
THIS comes from thence, O my God, that I do not conceive thee so Great as really thou art: and I do not conceive thee so great as thou art, because I do not see thee. I tremble at the presence of a Man set upon a Tribunal, the Sceptre in his hand, the Crown on his head, environed with a Royal pomp; I fear him because I see him: those Objects that strike my Eyes, astonish my Soul. I know that thou sittest between the Cherubims; that the Angels cover their face before thee, unable to sustain the brightness of thy Majesty. I know, that torrents of fire roll about thy Throne to consume thy Enemies. I know, there is nothing of either Angelic or humane sight, that can withstand the splendour of thy looks, nor the Fire of thine Eyes: but I believe all these wonders, though I see them not, and therefore 'tis they make the less impression upon my heart. Sensible I am not, but of present things. My eyes are more touched during the darkness of the Night, with the weak light of a glittering Glow-worm, than my Imaginationis moved with all the light of the Sun, when it is absent, and fills the other part of the World with heat and brightness. Take therefore away, O my God, take away the Veil; make me to view thy Majesty: redouble the force of the eyes of my Soul: fill my Imaginations with Ideas of thy greatness, and of thy Divine Glory; that I may return more and more from persuading myself of the smallness of my fault, when I present myself before thee with little reverence.     

PART II. Of the Sources of Indevotion.  

CHAP. I. Of Impurity of Life: The first Source of Indevotion.  
SInce Indevotion is so great an evil, let us try to find out its sources, that we may cut up this evil by the very Roots. Now one of the principal ones is Impurity of Life; nothing disconcerting an heart so as an evil Estate of Conscience; nothing more extinguishing the fire of Piety, than the loathsome and muddy waters of Sin. Fire does not easily take in things soaked in water: Devotion cannot easily be brought to fit Souls penetrated with Vice, one flame puts out another, and the fire of Covetuousness chokes that of Zeal, as the flame of Gunpowder extinguishes that of a Candle. Devotion is a certain alacrity of heart, that disposes us to draw nea● to God with confidence; but how should we have this Disposition, when we are guilty of the Vice, in going to present God with such offerings, as we ourselves know aught to be abominable to him? for we know, that God does not care for a sullied and unclean Sacrifice. Go, says he, I hate, I despise your solemn feasts, your meat-offerings and sat beasts: I receive them as the price of Whoredom, as the blood of a Swine, and as a Dog's head. Alas! the most spotless man is not enough so to present himself before God with Assurance, and the Prophet could say: Woe is me, for I am undone because I am a man of unclean lips: mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts. 'Tis impossible therefore, that he who has not the Wedding-Garment on, whose Vestment is stained with the spots of the Flesh, must needs be put into a vast consternation in thinking of him before whom the Stars and the Angels are unclean. And how can this Fear, or to speak better, this Horour agree with Devotion, which is all love and all assurance? Let us go with confidence, says the Apostle St. Paul to all devout Souls, to the Throne of Grace, that we may find mercy in the time of need. To bring to God a criminal Conscience, is to bring to him a witness against ourselves to make our own process: 'tis to deliver us up into the hands of his severe Justice. We need not therefore be startled, if the wicked be Indevout and fly the presence of God: And since Impurity of life would do nothing else than take away the Hopes of being heard; This would be enough to hinder and stifle all Devotion. All the Virtues are interessed, and he that would take away hope takes their very life away. How then can a wicked creature that knows God will not hear him, pray devoutly? When you spread forth your hands I will hid mine eyes from you: yea, when you make your prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of Blood. It is for this reason that St. Paul would have us lift up pure hands without wrath and murmuring: And David says, If I had Iniquity in me, the Lord would not have heard me. 'Tis for this cause, he professes elsewhere, that he washes his hands in Innocency, before he goes to God's Altar. And why should God have any regard to the Prayers of those that have none for his Commandments? upon these Principles, the wicked man says to himself, why should I present myself before God? Have not my Iniquities barred up against me the Gates of Heaven, and why should I go to ask of him that is resolved to refuse me? Unprofitable Devotions would these be, and submissions that would only serve to hasten my Punishment. I cannot have the impudence to desire any thing without promising to myself somewhat; but I am resolved to bridle nothing within me, and to continue in this way of living. 'Tis better therefore that every one holds where he is. Devotion is of a great extent; it takes up the whole heart; it cannot dwell in a Soul divided betwixt Avarice, Ambition, Violence, Pleasure, and the love of the World. Wherefore if you sometime see those worldly Persons, who refuse nothing to their heart, to have their Days of Devotion well regulated, and even sometimes to shed more Tears, and fetch up more sighs than the Faithful; you may, without hesitating, conclude, that these are Hypocrites and pretended Zealots who would pay God with Physiognomy and Posture, and cheat the World with fine Appearances. Perhaps some there are, who believe they are not such badly devout People, when they atone for a Months Debauch with a day of fasting. But they deceive themselves, for true Devotion is not unequal nor full of Sallies. It does not resemble those Summer-Torrents, which roll with a headlong impetuosity, and do not continue but for a day. So that holiness of Life is a preliminary of absolute Necessity to obtain Devotion. This Virtue is one of the most excellent Graces that we receive from Heaven, & one of the most precious Gifts of the holy Spirit; but 'tis a Pearl, which is not to be cast before Swine. 'Tis an Ennamel only to be laid upon Silver or Gold: 'Tis, in one word, a Favour communicated only to privileged Souls, that is to say, to the pure and clean in heart: But as we shall have occasion to touch again upon this subject in another Rencounter, we will not drain it dry here.  

Meditation.  
WHo can express the Evils and the Disorders that Sin has caused in my Soul? Who can recount all the Mischiefs wherein the Impurity of my heart engages me? Over and above all other Evils it brings me this too, it renders me incapable of Devotion. Sin has put a separation between my God and myself: and therefore I am dead, for God is my life, and the Soul of my Soul; I am blind, for God is my Light. Separated from him, I am poor, for he is my Treasure and makes up all my Riches. I am naked, for he alone gives me Raiment: Sick I am, for my health and strength comes from that Sun of Righteousness, who carries healing in his wings. Sin has robbed me of him, and has eclipsed him as to me, and I continue languishing away, being far from the Principle of my Life. In this faintness I know not how to produce those vigorous movements of Devotion that elevate the Soul, and carry it towards Paradise. Sin is a thick, foggy, heavy Wet that sticks to my Wings; it is a Weight which oppresses me, arrests all my Soaring, and renders all my efforts useless. I feel a La● in my Members, which Wars and oppo●ses itself to the Law of my Mind, and makes me the slave of Sin. Insomuch a● I do not the Good that I would, yet I do the Ill that I would not.   

Prayer.  
O Divine Sun of my Soul! break out, and Dissipate these Clouds. Thou great Deliverer, break these Irons, open this Prison, and free me from this Bondage and Captivity. Thou art most pure, let me not be unclean; Almighty, let me not be miserable; All Life let me not be dead: Draw me out of this calamitous Estate, this deplorable nothing. Disengage me from under this Burden of Mortality and corruption, so as I may walk lightly and cheerfully, or rather I may fly swifth even to thee. Pardon all my Sins, that they may not terrify me, and banish me from thy Throne. Stop the course of my Iniquities, that they may not hinder my Prayers from mounting up before thee. Let me not still continue to render myself unworthy of thy Favours, by the ill usage I make of thee, nor to grieve thy holy Spirit by the uncleanness of my Life that only can inspire me with the Ardour I seek after: That only can render my Soul devout: and it's presence only can warm my Affections. But will it be pleased to bring its light into a Soul so polluted and so dark as mine? Prepare for thyself, O my God, a lodging within me worthy so great a Guest and Stranger, that it may come and enliven me, that I may live, and love-thee; that I may burn with the Fire of thy Love, and with that of Devotion.    

CHAP II. Touching the love of the World: the second Source of Indevotion.  
BEhold one of the great reasons, why there are so few Devout in the World: It is, because all are in love with the World: and this Love is one of the most efficacious Temptations, wherewith the Devil serves himself to distract and call us elsewhere. This love has pierced our very marrow and entrails; and seeing 'tis the master of our Heart, can the love of God dwell there? can darkness and light, can Fire and Water, Life, and Death, be comparable together? In him that loveth the World, the love of the Father does not dwell. Where there is no love of God, how can there be any of Devotion, which is nothing else but love? what is it that makes up the fire and the zeal of Devout People, but Love? What is it that makes the desires spring up of union with God in Devout Souls but Love? what makes us find a Gusto in the possession? the same Love. What does endue good Souls with a readiness and alacrity to serve God? Is it not Love that renders every thing easy to him that loves? But as much as the love of God succours and helps Devotion, so much does the love of the World cruelly cross it. It extinguishes heat; it stifles the desires; it estranges from God; it takes away the taste of heavenly things; it purloins the heart from itself, and carries it elsewhere. Lot's Wife advances towards the Mountain, but hath her heart in Sodom, she turns her Eyes thither. The superior part of the Soul, which is in love with Heaven, makes some efforts to lift itself up to God: but this same lower part, wherein the Passions reign, turns its eyes towards the World, and wheedles the heart out of the Commerce whereinto it entered with its God: Rachel, in craving her father's house, carries along with her his antic Images: In quitting the World to enter into our Closets, we bring with us its Idols, that is, its Ideas and vain Images: and from thence proceed our distractions, and those unhappy thoughts that traverse us in the midst of our Devotion. These are the Idols of Gold & Silver, the Devils of Ambition and Covetousness, which an hundred times pass and repass in our mind, in a quarter of an hour to distract us. When we come to Prayer, our head is filled with a thousand I deas of good and evil, of Desires and Fears, of Dangers, and distrust of hopes and despair, of Joys and Divertisements, and a thousand other vain Objects A Soul at this rate taken up and employed, can it give place to the Ideas of God's greatness, of his Majesty, Goodness, Mercy, and Love? Faith, Repentance, Charity, Zeal, Hopes, Acknowledgements, and a thousand other Virtues, which compose, or at least, help Devotion, can they agree well with these Emotions that the commerce of the World communicates to us? We scarce ever think of things, but such as possess our hearts: if we loved ●●e Worldless, 'twould not come so often into ourminds. We are hurried away with it: it is a Daemon we know ●ot how to lay: we cannot find a Sanctuary against its persecutions: the solitude and affrightful Objects of the desert, cannot banish it. An Ancient tells us, that ●mid his Macerations, his mind sometimes transported him out of his Solitude into the company of young Women a dancing. I say then, we ought to employ 〈◊〉 our strength to dry up this second source, if we ●ould be Devout. My little children, love not the World, or the things that are in the World. We should Crucify ●he Old-Man, if we would present ourselves to God a ●ving, holy, and acceptable Sacrifice, which is our reasonable Service. So that one of the most profitable Me●itations, by which we can prepare ourselves for ●rayer, is that of the World's vanity. It is good to en●er into ourselves, to consider the brevity of humane ●●fe, the inconstancy of the World's Glory, which flovishes in the morning and fades and withers in the eve●ing. It is good to repeat frequently to our heart, ●hat the Holy Spirit has said heretofore. All flesh 〈◊〉 as Grass, and all the Glory of man as the flower of ●rass; the Grass withereth, and the flower thereof fadeth ●way. As for man, his days are as Grass: as a flower of be field, so he flourisheth; for the wind passeth over it, and 〈◊〉 is gone, and the place thereof shall know it no more. Man that is born of a Woman is of few Days, and full of couble: he cometh forth like a Flower and is cut down: 〈◊〉 fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not. His riches ●anish away, and his Sins continue: his honours abandon him; but his torments do not quit him. Thus by ●rying with a loud voice, Vanity of Vanities, in an heart infected by the bad Air of the World, it may chase away those worldly thoughts, and fright away those ●irds which come to spoil our Sacrifices, and devoureth good seed of Piety, which the Heavenly sower had 〈◊〉 into our hearts.  

Meditation.  
HOw miserable am I! I can stouth cry, Vanity of Vanities, to my Hea●● depraved and corrupted with the love 〈◊〉 the World, and yet still it is never th● better. I am sufficiently persuaded of a●● that is told me, I know mighty well, th●● the World is only made up of appearances, I know it hath very much Gall an● Wormwood for a little Honey. I kno● that Pleasures are Twists, that snarl an● entangle the Soul, and train it to Death But I am not yet acquainted, how the● knowledges remain in my understanding and make no manner of Impression upo● my Will. I believe, I see, and I do nothing I see a thousand and a thousand People which the World plunges into corruption and brings to Hell. I see it is a great en● my of my Saviour, and that the chief thin● which it compasses upon them that giv● themselves up to it, is, to take away fro● them the Love of God. 'Tis lewd, 't●● dangerous, I know it; yet notwithstanding I know not how to break the Cords which hold me tied to it. I fly it, it follows me: 〈◊〉 lays hold of me in all places, and I meet 〈◊〉 every where. O my Soul, make one ●ast and utmost effort to break these mischievous Chains, to make a Divorce with his Enemy. Say to it with a firm voice, Get thee behind me, Satan, thou art an offence unto me. The love of the World ●s an Enemy of the love of God; And al●o interchangeably the love of God is an Enemy to the love of the World. Make therefore, O my Soul, the love of thy God ●o enter into thee, that it may banish thence the love of the World: Sethese two enemies to Daggers drawing, and favour his side, who would save thee against him who would destroy thee. Love him that loves thee, although he strike thee sometimes as if he did not love thee: And have a hatred for him that hates thee, albeit he acts as if he loved thee. Return to this fervent Spouse a love as great as he has for thee.   

Prayer.  
BUT without thee, O my God, I cannot love thee, nor cease to love the World without thy aid. Pull up therefore this harsh and bitter Root, which shoots up, and turns me out of t●● way of salvation. Open mine eyes, take th● Evil from off the World, draw away the Ma● and the Paint wherewith it is covered, th● I may see all its Deformity, and shiver at th● sight. On the other side, make me to see th● face, and thy beauty, that my Soul may be ravished and I may no more run after the vanity of the World. every me with thy good things that my Soul being fulfilled, may wish nothing more, and that my desires may all expire in th● joy of thy Love. Then shall I run in thy path● with all my might. Then my Soul, being inflamed and fulfilled with heavenly fire, shall not cannot any longer be hindered from lifting up its self to thee with all the ardour that one aught to have for the Sovereign Good. Then in its Devotions shall my Soul be no more troubled with the vain Idols of the World. Being filled with thee and with thy Love, it will not be able to furnish and afford room for any thing else.    

CHAP. III. ●f the too great sensibility towards earthly Pleasures: The third source of Indevotion.  
THis Love of the World is a great Trunk, which divides itself into many Branches, that are also sources of Indevotion. The first branch of this Love is the too great sensibility towards earthly pleasures. These ●easures are of two sorts: The first are highly criminal, and are those we call Debauches of the Men of be times: and of these, certain it is, that not only the excessive sensibility but the least taste we take of them ●s the mortal Enemy of Devotion. Spiritual pleasures ●●e of a taste so vastly different from carnal ones, that ●t the same time one cannot love the one and the other. 〈◊〉  imbrued with Gall and Wormwood, and which has never tasted of other Savours, cannot en●ure our Sugar and Honey: A man sunk into the un●voury sweetness of Sin, will find all the sweetnesses of Grace of ill taste. There is another sort of worldly pleasures, whose Innocence the World maintains, because the crime is not so visible: They are called innocent, and they may be so, if they did not soon become criminal by the abuse of them, and they all may ●e great obstacles to Devotion, more than we are ●ware of. The Holy Ghost is called the Comforter; ●nd the taste which the Pious find in the Exercises of Holiness is termed Spiritual Consolation. But to whom is the Comforter and the Consolation destined ●ut to the afflicted? For certain therefore those Souls ●hat are filled with the joy of the World, are not proper to receive these Divine consolations, and the wh●som impressions of the Divine Comforter; 'Tis this reason the ever blessed Jesus saith, Blessed they which mourn, for they shall be comforted. An● Austin saith to God: Thou art the only true and th● Sovereign pleasure capable of filling the Soul: Do 〈◊〉 cast far from me all those false pleasures, and at the●● time enter thou into their place, thou, who art more 〈◊〉 and more agreeable than all Pleasures, though not to 〈◊〉 and Blood. The Manna did not fall upon the Israel● but when the Victuals they had brought out of 〈◊〉 were consumed. And questionless that divine Man● Grace, those Ravishments and those joys of Devot● are not communicated to those that have a mag● furnished with the things of Egypt, and the pleasure the World.  
A person that returns from a Ball or a Comed very much indisposed for Devotion. Some may in favour of the Theatre, that it is become chaste, 〈◊〉 and that we see there more Lessons of Virtue th● Examples of Vice: But others may say, that the Pajons do not appear there animated but in defence Honour, and that there are produced no other sentime but those of Generosity. For my part, I say, that Virtues of the Theatre are crimes, according to 〈◊〉 mind of the Gospel; and when there is any thing go● heard there, it is very much sullied by the impu●● of the Lips and the Imaginations through which passes. Oh Impiety! said Clemens Alexandrinus, you h●● made Heaven to descend upon the Theatre, and God is come a Comedy. Oh Impiety! we may say, in imitati●● him, you have made Virtue to mount the Theat and you have made her an Actress: Our Saviour 〈◊〉 not have his Preachers wear Buskins on their feet Masks on their face. Tragedy, says St. Cyprian, makest ancient Crimes to revive in its verses, so as they may die of old age. It draws them out from under the Tomb of ten or twelve Ages: And in the present age we learn such Crimes, as perhaps we should never have thought on; we observe, that what has been done heretofore may also be done to day; So we make examples of those Actions which had ceased to be Crimes; nevertheless the innocence of Tragedy may be pleased with more colour. The Lacedæmonians were wise men, who banished these evil Arts from among them, by reason, said they, that it was not safe to violate the Laws, even in appearance, and that one ought to respect them even upon the Theatre.  
This makes me remember a saying of Cicero, that it is not honest by way of sporting the mind to exercise one's Philosophy and Rhetoric against the Gods, in arguing either their Existence or their Providence without being an Atheist. This veneration we own to them of not diverting ourselves at their expense. I say the same of Virtue. It is not handsome to please one's self in seeing Virtue or rejoicing or wronged. But besides all this, these sights are absolutely disagreeing with Devotion, since they fill the Soul with vain Passions, and we have need of a free mind. They make real Joys and Griefs to spring up for imaginary Adventures. Into the Mind they put Ideas, and into the Heart vain Motions, which ruin the holy Dispositions that we would establish in a devout Soul.  
The same I say of a Play; a Fury which agitates men like a kind of Demoniac Spirit. A Man sees his Life and his Death, (that I may so speak) his Fortune and his Misfortune a rolling, with inconceivable Transports and Inquietudes. His Soul is agitated at the same time with a thousand Passions, with Fears, Desires, Hopes, and his Heart is entirely put besides the Seat. Is such a Man in a Condition to lift up his Soul to God? Such fine Devotions as these are they, which are made after having past half the Night in this exercise. The Tempest has been over great, a long time will the Waves be moving; the Soul will be a good while levelling itself: and yet after this the Sweetnesses Devotion will not be according to the Palate, for th● they are not carnal Pleasures, of which alone it sensible. Whence it comes to pass, that young Pe●ple are very rarely fit for the Elevations of Devotion They are but lately come into the World, and all 〈◊〉 it appears mighty fine. These Pleasures they g●● down by long Draughts, and nothing appears plased unto 'em but what flatters Flesh and Blood, whi●● boils in their Veins. Hence also it comes, that th● Constitution, where the Blood has the Ascenda●●● which is the Temperament of the World's Joy, is 〈◊〉 proper for Devotion than that which has the Ingredients of Earth and Melancholy: the former is like 〈◊〉 Matter extremely combustible, which takes fire 〈◊〉 the least Sparkle; but the latter being more difficul to be moved, is less sensible of what charms other and that which pierces through them, negligently passes it by.  
We ought therefore to draw Men out of this erro● They imagine they can divide themselves betwi●● heavenly and earthly Joy; but it is impossible. In th● Rank of unclean Creatures the Law placed those Amphibious Birds which both swim and fly, and live in 〈◊〉 double Element of Air and Water. This is the E●●blem of worldly Men; evermore they swim in fleshly Pleasure, and sometimes by weak Soaring they try to get out thence and reach Heaven: but it happens to 'em just as it does to those Aquatic Fowls, whose flight goes no further than to touch and curl the Superficies of the Water with their Wings, and then they forthwith fall down again. Delicate and rare, says St. Bernard, is the Divine Consolation: 'tis a chaste Woman, but jealous, who deserving only to be beloved, cannot give herself to him that runs after strange Women. Wherefore Solomon pronounceth Vanity upon all the Pleasures of the Earth, whereof he had made a very large Experience. It's for this also that David declares so of ten that he will not have any other Pleasure than that of his God: To draw near to God is my Good; to be united to him is my All. Forsake all, says St. Austin, and thou shalt find all: for that Man will find all in God that despises all for God's sake. Behold here one of the main Counsels which can be given to pious Minds which undertake to dispose themselves to Devotion. Renounce, renounce, thou devout Soul, all the Pleasures of the Earth, and make choice of Spiritual ones; let reading in holy Writings charm thee, as worldly-minded People are charmed by their ill Books: let religious Assemblies and preaching of the Word divert thee, as much as they divert themselves by their criminal Shows: let the Works of Mercy toward the Poor and Afflicted be used by thee, as the men of the Age use their vain Courses, their Sports, and their Converse: and if thou takest any Recreations and Refreshments, let Honesty and severe Virtue be the Governess of all thy Pleasures.  

Meditation.  
HOW unhappy art thou, O my Soul, to be born in Egypt, and not to be ensible of the blessings of the true Canaan? or this reason thou turnest thy eyes so of●en upon the World: and at the same ●our that thy Heart should be intite in ●eaven at the time of thy Devotion and ●ravers, thou thinkest on Onions, Garlic ●nd fleshpots, which thou didst eat, when thou wast the Slave of the Devil and th● World. Thou hast not yet tasted th● delights of Pious and Devout Souls, that say I am satisfied as with Marrow and Fatness Oh! how good the Lord is, I have tasted him He brought me into his Banqueting-house His Love is sweeter than Wine, and th● Honey, Let him kiss me with the Kisses 〈◊〉 his Mouth. Would to God I were honoured with these secret communication whereof my Saviour makes some Privileged Souls to partake; which fill them wit● Joy even in the midst of Torments, an● make them find music in Prisons, and 〈◊〉 the rattling of their Irons. Learn, O m● Soul, learn to seek thy Pleasures and Delights in God: he is the Source: All Jo● that comes not from him, terminates a● length in grief, saddness, lamentations, d●spair, and gnashing of Teeth. What do● my heart wish for? what does it hunger an● thirst after? dost thou love Beauty? In Go● thou wilt find it, and God will give it th● thyself: for thou wilt become glorious an● full of light by the commerce thou sha● have with him. Dost thou love Life an● Health? He is the well of Life, and in 〈◊〉 Light shall we see Light: and he will communicate a Life to thee ever healthful and vigorous, that is Eternal Life. Dost thou love pleasures? Lo, he will make thee drink at the Stream of his Delights; He will fill thee with the Wine prepared by the Divine Wisdom, that saith, I have mixed my Wine, I have killed my fat Beasts. He will cause thee to see such Objects, as will ravish thee: He will make thee hear a sweet and charming Music in the consort of Angels and Saints, who eternally sing the praises of our God. After so many Blessings either already received or already possessed in hope, can I still be at all sensible of the vain Pleasures of the Earth.   

Prayer.  
O My God, my divine Saviour, come and fill my Soul with those sweetnesses that thou communicatest to thy faithful servants; give me the bread which came down from Heaven, the true Manna and bread of Angels, that makes me taste of pleasures, which stifle and choke the sense of worldly pleasures, and the taste of sublunary divertisements. Let thy Sabbaths be my Feast days: Let thy word be sweeter to me than Honey, and than the drops of Honey; And let the meditation of those joys which thou preparest for me in Heaven, ravish me in such a manner, that I may be no more either the World's or my own, but be entirely Thine. Make Heaven to descend upon Earth in my favour; Enlarge my heart; Make there a little Paradise: Shed down upon it so great an abundance of thy Light of Grace, as may imitate and approach the Light of Glory. Make thy Rivers to run a cross this Paradise: Plant therein the Tree of Life: And lay up there so grand an influence of good things, that my own Wealth may make me look upon that of the World with an high disdain and contempt; and that from under the Throne, where thou shalt have placed my Soul, it may consider all the Palaces of the World like mere Cottages.    

CHAP. IU. Of Worldly Troubles and Cares: a fourth Source of Indevotion.  
NOW we come to another branch of the Love of the World, and a new obstacle to Devotion; I mean earthly Cares and Riches. Black and horrid Devils, that come to cross us, that draw us frequently out of the company of our Lord Christ Jesus, to lead us among Sepulchers, and that walk, as in the sad Ruins of our Fortune and Grandeur. There are more unhappy than happy Persons in the World; so that this temptation is at least as ordinary as the precedent are: and whereas the World possesses our Hearts, when we have lost it, we bewail it most bitterly. A man, whom against his will, a contrary Wind drives from the Haven where he would be, always turns his Eyes on that side, and does not lose the View of it, but with inconceivable Regret. If he would take any rest, the Images of his Country, his dear Children, and his Friends, return incessantly into his mind to plague him and continue his Torture. So the afflicted Soul, that would retire into its self, to be united with God, doth see, amidst its Exercises, the Images of its misfortunes, which awaken its Grief and draw it from Heaven into the bottomless pit. These are the Wasps and Flies, whose Stings are so piercing: whilst we are fixed so on holy Work, and give up to it our whole attention, than these come and prick us so to the quick, that we are forced to lay our hands on the part affected. These are the Whips, wherewith the Taskmasters of Egypt serve 'emselves to hasten us to the work of the Flesh and the labour of Bricks. These Taskmasters are the Devils, that say with Pharaoh; this People is idle; since they will serve their own God, let us redouble their Employments: and hence they rouse up those smarting and stinging cares, recalling into the memory of one; the loss of a Cause in a Court of Judicature, and of another the Ill estate of his affairs, an he ruin of his Family. And these thoughts like so many stings, hasten a man to return to his works of Straw, to his worldly occupation, that make him to forget God's Service. When therefore we would espouse ourselves in the bosom of our God, we must drive and fright away these Gnats, that whizz about our Ears, and we must lay these Demons. And as the Spouse said, I charge you, O ye Daughters of Jerusalem, by the Roes and by the Hinds of the Field that ye stir not up nor awake my Love till he please: So we ought to say, Go ye carnal thoughts, thy earthly anxities and nettling Cares: away, ye Devils, return into your bottomless pits; let my Soul rest, and do not disturb its holy Conversations; do not draw it out of the Arms of its beloved, whose possession makes up all its Joy and all its Beatitude.  
Good remedies there are against this Temptation, which we ought to make use of. The first is, to discomfit and destroy in us the love of the World: when we shall love it no more, we shall no more be sensible of the mischiefs and misfortunes that befall us on that side. So we don't love Money, Riches nor Grandeur, we shall not be touched with the loss of them. So we love God only, we shall evermore be content, because we shall never lose him. The World makes men pay Interest for its Pleasures: the grief it causes in abandoning us, is much greater than the joy we taste in possessing it: and therefore we should diffeize ourselves in good time, that we may lose it without trouble. If we have cares that seem lawful unto us, and which we know not how to part withal, let us follow the precept and example of David, Cast thy care upon God, and he will take care for thee. We do not want examples to maintain this reliance. We can produce an Elijah, that was fed by Ravens; a Prophet in the Lion's Den, that was respected by those Monsters; Israelites in uncultivated and desolate Places, upon whom the very Heavens reigned down Bread. Have we need of Assurance and Promises? see that of our Lord Jesus: Are not two Sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many Sparrows. Behold the Fowls of the Air, they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. God that takes care of the young Ravens, that call upon him, will he desert us? without doubt we must have a great stock of Incredulity to resist so great Promises. After all, let us remember to think, how our Cares do change nothing at all in the state of our Concerns, and how they turn our Soul's topsie turvy, and render them incapable of Devotion. Upon which account our ever blessed Jesus would not have us take care for the Morrow, for fear it should trouble our Devotion to day.  
Wherefore, in entering into our Closet, we must say to ourselves: why dost thou take care for so many things, and it may be thou must die to morrow? Afraid thou art of wanting necessaries for Life, but thou considerest not, that these necessaries may be reduced into a small compass. Thou hast lost some Wealth, thou art afraid of losing it, 'tis therefore God hath retrencht thee of the superfluity. Whereas, how canst thou be afraid of wanting any manner of thing, when in that moment thou goest to find God, to whom appertain all things, and addest with St. Austin, Cast thyself, O my Soul, into the Arms of God; and fear not, lest he should let thee fall, for his Arms sustain Heaven and Earth. And having said this, shut the door against all the troubles of the Flesh, and cast them under thy feet, as thou fallest on thy Knees.  

Meditation.  
ALas! I have good reason to weep; Oh that my Head were Waters, and mine Eyes a Fountain of Tears, that I might bewail my Sins. This is a sadness after a godly sort, and a Repentance not to be repent of. In this Respect, mine Eyes are without moisture, and dry as Rocks. Oh! that Moses his Rod struck me, and the Terror of God's Judgements seized me, that I might be able to cast out Currents of Water. Yet nevertheless I do not want tears to mourn my mishaps, and my worldly misfortunes: So that I am not covetous of Tears, but I distribute 'em ill. Wherefore, O my Soul, art thou so touched at the loss of some goods whereof thou hadst only the use, and which Death at least would have infallibly ravished from thee? Dost thou not know, that the World and its Fortunes are all of Glass? They shine, but they are brittle: The least blow shatters them, and makes 'em to fly into a thousand pieces; why then shouldest thou think it strange that Glass should break between thy Fingers? Why art thou so sensible of Injuries and Offences: And why dost thou make the malignity of another thy own misery? why dost thou so bitterly lament the loss of some Persons that Death has taken up from thee? they were not thine, they were Gods, who lent 'em thee, and has retaken them. In short, Why art thou so prodigal of Tears, whereof thou reapest no fruit? that is, to employ one's Labour in that which profiteth not, When thou bewailest, O my Soul, thy misfortunes, thy tears do not make thy misfortunes to cease; but mourn for thy Sins, and thy Tears will destroy them. They will whirl them away like a Torrent or a Deluge, and they will be found no more. Thy carnal anxieties trouble thy Devotion; But the Grief which thou shalt have for thy Sins and Infirmities will augment it, and God will comfort thee.   

Prayer.  
COme therefore, thou Holy Ghost, the Comforter, who wert promised to us by the Son in behalf of the Father. Come sweeten my bitter Anguishes by thy Delights and Mercies. Come and recompense my losses by thy Riches. Give me such joy as passes all understanding. Give me Piety, that I may have contentment of Mind, and that the one and the other being joined together may be great Gain to me, and compose my sovereign happiness. Come and place my Soul in so firm a Seat and Posture, that it may never be jogged or staggered even by the rudest blows. Come, and restore back to me what I have lost, Goods, Possessions, Houses, Husband, Wife, Children, Kindred, and my dearest Friends. Come my dear Saviour, and let me possess thee perfectly instead of all things. The World has taken away all it hath given me: But it cannot ravish from me what thou shalt bestow upon me. I make a Sacrifice to thee of all the Goods which I have lost: If I have not lost 'em for thy Name, yet at least I at present patiently suffer the loss of them for thy Name's sake: And therefore I hope thou wilt reward me as if I had lost them for thee. In this Hope I banish my Cares and Troubles far from me, to the end they may come no more to disturb and interrupt my Repose. O my God, make the Walls of my Closet impenetrable Ramparts, such as cannot be pierced by the Darts of my persecuting Enemies: So that I may be there in thy Presence as in a quiet and safe Haven against the Tempests wherein my Life is lost; and that so the Commerce which my Soul would have with thee, may not be interrupted by the remembrance of my Misfortunes, but I may forget all my Griefs and Calamities in thy Presence.    

CHAP. V Of Excessive Business: A fifth Source of Indevotion.  
THIS is also another branch of the Love of the World, and another let and hindrance to Devotion. We love the World, and give up ourselves entirely to its Employments One employs himself in Traffic, and thinks of nothing else. Another he is oppressed with the Affairs of other men, which he makes his own through interest: He pleads, as he saith, for the defence of Justice, but it is too often for iniquity; and though he gains his Cause, yet he loses his Conscience. A physician Visits his Patients with a design to make 'em pay dear for his Services and Attendance. The man of business is ever thumbing his Arithmetic: The Mechanic exercising his Trade: the Husbandman Agriculture: And to these several ways goes the greatest and best part of their time. And so much is the World corrupted, as they think they deserve praises, in that among the sundry ways of spending time, this is the most innocent: but it becomes criminal as soon as it robs us of our God, and slackens our Piety. The mind of man is so made, as it cannot vigorously tend but to one Mark; it cannot ardently will but one thing: insomuch as if thou givest up the ardour and force of thy desires to thy Family and thy Occupations, God will but partake of the Relics of thy Soul and thy languishing motions.  
I do not pretend here, as if Persons of all conditions could give up themselves wholly to contemplation. This contemplative Life is the Life of Angels and not of men: and since that we are in part Body, we must also live after a manner partly corporal. A Bird let its wings be never so strong, cannot always be flying: A Soul has not strength enough to be evermore lifted up to Heaven. I know moreover we ought to serve the necessities of Nature. In a word, I do not oppose the Order that man has received from God to eat his Bread by the sweat of his Brows, and by his labour six days in the Week; all I aim at is, that the employments of Martha may not hinder the work of Mary, and that the Body, being the worse Part of us, may not carry away the better part of our time. If there be any thing wherein we ought to laud and praise the great condescension of God to us, it is in this, all our time is his, but he pleased to give us six parts in seven: Six days shalt thou labour, and on the seventh rest. Seeing he has forgone so much, we ought at least to be very exact to pay him this Tithe of our time, one day in seven, one hour in seven. Six hours therefore should not slip by in a day without returning to God, to give him the seventh. Do more, and imagine not you can do too much, since you own him all.  
Why will you not have the same regard and consideration for the Soul as you have for the Body? On it you bestow Refreshment and Rest, and for this you intercept your most important Concerns, that you may repair the decayed forces of Nature. Take heed there be not made too great a dissipation of the Spirits of Grace: call the Soul to its exercises of Devotion as to repasts, which renders it vigorous; and as to sleep, during which it lies in the Arms of its God; labour often in this Divine Recollection, and to withdraw the Soul from those wand'ring courses it makes in humane affairs.  
Meals and repasts hastily taken are followed with a difficult digestion, and very little nourishment; and therefore we repose ourselves while we eat let not any one t●en imagine he can serve God, whilst he is doing something else. These stir and turbulent Devotions are of ill consequence, and instead of nourishing do load and clog the Conscience. We must therefore in our ordinary employments set aside some hour, wherein our Souls may retire themselves, as it were in an Haven, to rejoice over a Calm after a boisterous Tempest. Whilst the Water is rolling or stirring, it can neither receive nor reflect well the Image of the Sun: so a Soul in continual action cannot receive the impressions of Grace, the beams of the glorious Jesus, nor the likeness of our great God. Thou raging and rolling Sea, hold thyself then still and hust, stop thy Surges to be the Looking-glass of the Heavens, to the intent all those matchless and illustrious lights may penetrate thee, and paint themselves in thee. How can the knowledge of God, said St. Basil, enter into a Soul taken up with a crowd of carnal thoughts? It ought to be master of its time and its self, to be presented to God. Pharaoh knew this well, since he told the Israelites, What ye say, come and let us sacrifice to our God, proceeds from that ye are Idle.  
Certain I am, God does not love slothful People: and how should he love idle Lives, that will take account of every idle word? But yet neither does he love People over busy. Martha, Martha, says he, Thou art cumbered and troubled about many things; Thy Sister Mary has chosen the good Part. She did not labour about Evil things, but too many things: She did even good works in doing what she did; she served our Lord, she prepared him meat and drink. If there could be excess in these holy Employments, when they hinder us from approaching often enough to the Throne of Grace; what must we believe touching the employments of the World? what people will be excluded from the sacred feast of our Saviour? Why, those men of Business, one of whom, forsooth, bought a yoke of Oxen, and will go to try them; another has purchased an House, and he must needs go see it: a third is contracted to a Wife, and he will wed her. Such Persons will find the Gate shut and barred, they come not time, neither will they find any one to open unto the● It will be said to them as it was to others, go ye w●kers of Nothing, I know you not. Let us not say the such a way I must go to day, to morrow another; must do such a thing, and finish such an affair; afterwa● I will think upon God O my Soul. Thy great concern●● to set thee well with thy God; 'tis to consult him often about the Disposition, wherein he is with thee; 'tis to solicit his mercy, and implore the succours of his Grace 'tis to pay him thy just Homages, and place all thy interest in him. It is the one thing necessary, choose then th● good part which shall not be taken away from thee: Thi● one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forth unto those things which are before; 〈◊〉 press toward the Mark.  
Let not therefore the Indevout Person come with his Objection from the multiplicity of his Affairs: the most busy steal their moments for Pleasure, and wh● can't they then for a Duty? Let no one oppose us with the goodness and innocence of particular Employments nothing is innocent that renders us culpable before God, in estranging us from him. But what shall we say of those Persons, who create to themselves affairs of vast and mighty importance, in the due setting of a Tower, or accurate situation of a Spot, who consult their Glass an hundred times to place every thing in its proper order; who employ the best part of their lives in-these Idle Businesses; and amidst all this, find scarce a minute to consecrate to Devotion; I say, that these Women are to render an account of all, and of the time which they have so miserably squandered away, and of their Beauty, whereof they have made so bad a use, and of the unjust Division they have made betwixt God and their own Idol; seeing they have given all their Hours to the Service of this, and to God only some moments of unadvised and hasty Devotion.  

Meditation.  
Wretched Soul, how miserable art thou, to be obliged to serve perpetually a Body, that renders thee nothing but evil for all the good that thou hast done it. Thou travelest after many things: Thou runnest from one end of the World to the other: Thou venturest upon the Tempests of the Sea; thou exposest thyself to their fury. Thy Body is burnt by the heats of the Sun: From Icy Climates thou passest into the Torrid Zone: For whole years thou sailest upon the mouth of Abysses to seek Riches, Gold, Silver, precious Stones, and all manner of Delicates. If thou dost not do this, thou dost somewhat else, which is no better, and thou sustainest as great Labours, and which are no less vain, and all for a Body that is Dust, and must return to Dust. True it is, that to take care of thy Body is a Yoke that God has laid upon thee, but thou thyself makest this Yoke infinitely more weighty. The Body would be content with a very little, if thou wouldst serve it as it should be served; and by consequence it would rob thee of but a little time, but thou givest it all. What blindness, and what fury is this? Wha● will return to thee of all thy Labours? Th● Body, for which thou takest so much pains will carry nothing away with it of these Riches which thou amassest for it, except a winding-sheet, an hearse-cloth, and perchance will have and hold a short while five or six feet of Earth. O my Soul, it's of thee, tho● ought'st to think, and for thee thou ought'st to provide. Thou art a Queen, and thou becomest a Slave: Thou shouldst be served, and lo! thou servest. Thou neglectest to gather the true Riches together; and therefore thou art poor, blind, and naked. I counsel thee then to get Gold, Raiments, and Nourishment of him, who saith, Every one that thirsteth, come ye to the Waters, buy Wine and Milk without Money and without price.   

Prayer.  
MAke me, O my God, to know that thou art the sovereign Good, the only good, worthy alone to be sought after, and worthy alone to be loved; that I may no longer run after the vain Shadows of Greatness and Glory. Make me to know the true Goods, so as I may bestow all my Love and Care upon them; So as I may no more make the principal workings of my thoughts to respect worldly Employments; So as I may keep my Body under as a Slave that hath an inclination to rebel: but that I may serve thee as a Master whose inclinations are ever favourable unto me. Let me with assurance first of all seek thy Kingdom, and thy Righteousness, and then all the rest shall be added unto me; Suffer no Ingratitude nor Distrust in my Soul: Nor let it doubt of the Goodness of him, who has given so many marks of his Care and Tenderness over it. How can it fear, O my God, that thou wilt let it want any thing, thou, who feedest the young Ravens, that cry unto thee, and the Lion's Whelps that lay them down in their Dens. It labours about this Life, as if it were to be Eternal; and it neglects the other Life, as if it were never to come. I believe, O my God, but help thou my unbeleif. Make me to see the Truth and Excellency of Eternal Life, that I may flight the present Life; that I may make me such Friends, as may receive me into everlasting Habitations; that I may acquire such Riches as I may carry along with me; and that I may make choice of that good Part which shall not be taken away from me.    

CHAP. VI The Custom of letting the mind ramble 〈◊〉 different Objects: A sixth Source of Indevotion.  
I Believe that this is also another Source of 〈◊〉 Indevotion, and especially of our Distraction. During Prayer we know not how to fire o●● Heart, our mind wanders, and our attention i● lost. Whence proceeds this, but from a pernicious custom we have, of giving a soaring vaunt to our Imagination? It is in man, what Quicksilver is in Mertals: It rolls, it runs glibly up and down; A little fire makes it evaporate, and as it were, to vanish into Smoak, it becomes so subtle. We suffer it to 〈◊〉 what ever it pleases. When 'tis upon the Wing, sometimes it flies from East to West, from South to North, from Heaven to Earth, and as if the limits of the Universe were too narrow for it; it overpasses them, and loses its self in the innumerable Whirlpool of Des-Cartes. And no more can it contain itself within the bounds of Time, it flies to Eternity, and asks what it is; It would know what was when there was Nothing. If it keeps its self within this World amidst this great space, it curvets over all Being's, it swims over all Matter, and the compounds of it differently modified, and yet penetrates none of them: And, as if the prodigio● Mass of Creatures did not furnish Employment enough to its Actions, it labours in the production, or rather creation of Being's of its own forming; It imagine Chimaeras, Phantomes: it makes Mountains of Gold, Worlds in the Moon, Centaurs, and Hippogryphicks: And these motions for the most part are of such quick dispatch, that in a quarter of an hours rambling we find ●ur selves so far off, that the greatest Parted man in ●●e World could never guess by our last thought, what was the first. And after this shall we ask, from whence ●ome those aberrations of our heart in the duties and exercises of Piety? can we expect that a Soul accustomed to wander, can fix and arrest itself all at once? It is an Horse that has not as yet received the Bit: it does nothing night or day but kick and skip up and down in the Meadows. When one would put the Saddle upon the back, or the Rein in the mouth, it flies out and struggles, it throws down him that gets up, and returns from whence it came. When we would gather ourselves together, it dissipates its self like a Flame; it abandons us; it breaks the Rein of Piety, and before that we espy the first ways it took, we find it plunged in the diversity of its vain thoughts. St. Augustine ●acknowledges, that this is the cause of our Distractions When our mind is filled with these Phantasins, saus he, and that incessantly it carries along with it an infinite number of vain thoughts, thence it comes to pass, that our Prayers are oftentimes troubled and interrupted thereby; and that when being in thy presence, O God, we endeavour to make thee hear the voice of our heart. An action of such importance is frequently traversed by frivolous Imaginations, which come from I know not whence, to break into the crowd in our minds.  
If we did well comprise the nature of Evil, we might easily conceive the Remedy. Evils ought to be cured by their contraries: So that let us learn to give bounds to our imagination, and not permit it to go so far, that we may have the less trouble to bring it back again: That is to say, For the disposing our heart to Devotion, we ought to accustom our mind to think a little of things and of good things: 'tis a Mercury, that must fix itself in being applied to Silver or Gold, 'tis a lively faculty, whereto we must give the Bridle and the Rein. 〈◊〉 let us not imagine that the secret to cure this Mala●● of the Soul, consists in retaining our mind in a privat●●● of all thought: this is not profitable to Nature nor use●●● to Grace. The imagination of man is too active; 'tis impossible to hold it from doing nothing: 'tis to bring 〈◊〉 Death upon it to leave it without employment; sinc● it lives no longer than it acts. God hath not given 〈◊〉 such noble faculties to bury them in an inglorious a●● shameful Idleness. In short, a mind that is habituated to think on nothing, would nevertheless find it as mu●● trouble to fix itself upon the works of Piety, as o●● would to withdraw it from its ramblings and course that it formerly used.  
From all which I conclude, that the employment of lettered and knowing men, are perhaps the most destructive to Devotion as any that are in the World. The Eye is scarce ever weary with seeing, nor the Ea● with hearing; and we are so far from counting this among Defects, that we reckon it a great Virtue. Unde● favour to those Great Names of Sciences, of fine knowledges, of curious Researches, of Sublime Speculations of miraculous Discoveries, there is established in the World a method to mince the Soul, and almost infinitely to subdivide it without Remedy; would to God experience did not give us proofs of the Truth: But it's very certain and very well known, that Atheists are not to be found in the crowd of the common People. The Epicures, the Protagoras' and Diagoras' were knowing men of great Wit. The thing is passed into a Proverb: And they say, that they, who by reason of the Art, whereof they make profession, are obliged to study Nature, and the second Causes very much, do ●ix themselves so strongly thereto, that they forget to ascend to the first Cause. These men so well read in Antiquity, and that make so great a noise in the Commonwealth of Learning for their knowledge, make none at ●ll in the Church for their great Devotion. The study only of heavenly things can inspire an habit of Piety: we also see enough great Divines continue bad Christians, because they refer not their Labours to God, nor to his Glory; all their industry is for themselves, and they are the end of all their own watch. I would never ●herefore advise him that has a mind to be very devout, ●o embrace so many things, nor to fill his head with conjectures, and his memory with these May-bees, whereof those rare Sciences, so called, are composed: besides, that this Acquisition brings in a habit of selfconceited Pride, and surly Scorn, a great enemy to the Spirit of Devotion, and it puts the Virtuosos up with Pyrrhonism and Doubt, which from Philosophy passes into Divinity. And whereas some find nothing certain in humane Sciences, they take the same liberty to doubt of Divine Revelations. We accustom ourselves to judge of things according to the light of Reason, for to condemn whatever does not agree with it: ●nd we are rash enough to introduce that Principle into the Church, which ought to have been left in the Schools. I do not say this, as if I would be the advocate of Ignorance: seeing we are Citizens of the World, it is allowed us to inquire a little of what is done ●here: But the Author of Nature, whereof we make a part, makes us see plainly with what discretion and advisedness we ought to advance in the Discovery of ●er Secrets. He has not shown us but the Effects, and has hid from us almost all the Causes: which teaches ●s, that we may easily be without these knowledges, by reason that hidden things are not for us. I know not too, whether a little Ignorance would not make more for ●he Glory of our Creator. If we understood Nature ●s well as we would understand it, perhaps we should have the less Admiration for its great Author: for, as they say, Admiration is the Daughter of Ignorant and it is certain that we get an habit of not admiri● the finest and most wonderful things because we see 〈◊〉 and are over-acquainted with them.  
The desire of Knowledge deceives us; but let 〈◊〉 guard ourselves from its surprises: our first Parents: stead the effects on't sufficiently for their liquorish ha● kering after an equal knowledge of Good and Evil 〈◊〉 the Gods. When they were in a good state, th● knew not even if they were naked, and they acquit not this knowledge with the rest, but in the loss of the Innocence. Only the knowledge of God ought to be 〈◊〉 subject matter and end of our labours, and this is imply meant enough for our whole life. Blessed is he that know thee, says St. Austin, though he knows nothing else: and 〈◊〉ed is that creature that knows every thing with knowing thee. But he who knows thee and every 〈◊〉 else, is happy, not because he knows those other things, 〈◊〉 because he knows thee. Run not therefore, O my So● after those vain shadows of Science, or if thou ru●● after them, let it be as after shadows without fi 〈◊〉 and without Love. Fix thyself only to the com● plation of thy God, he is an admirable object, he is 〈◊〉 finitely greater than all the Creatures together. 〈◊〉 vertheless this vast Object will not cause that Dissipa● so inseparable from the contemplation of the Creature It is infinite, but contracts itself in a point; It 〈◊〉 Sun that reunites all its rays in the bottom of 〈◊〉 Heart to fill it both with Light and Flame: Let the 〈◊〉 vout Soul, says St. Basil, be a Mirror and a pure G● that it may not receive the Image of any thing but its 〈◊〉 vine Spouse. Let it continue wholly employed and t● up by this Image, so as foreign things approaching nigh, 〈◊〉 not find a place there to paint and contemplate themsel●● Thou eternal Star, saith another, who art the Source all created Lights, pierce through my heart with 〈◊〉 thy beams, which may purify me, and make me glad, which may illuminate and quicken my Soul to unite all its power to thee. If we do some violence to our mind to fasten it upon this one and sole Object, we shall find the good we expect and seek after, it being a remedy against our indevout Distractions. When we have a long time held this slippery and evaporate Soul in the Chains of Divine Meditation, it will become more stayed and weighty: It will not escape us with so much ease: and as in flying us, it does not take its flight but in its known Roads, and stumbles only on the Ideas that are familiar with it, whilst that divers thoughts will become estranged from it by the little Commerce it will have with them, it will not easily be able to get away.  

Meditation.  
HOW little do men know themselves, or the extent of their Mind, to embrace so many Objects at once? Do thou, O my Soul, become wise by the faults of thy Neighbours: Thou hast enough wherewith to busy thyself in the Contemplation of thy God. Labour to know him only; and if thou aim'st to know other things, do it in such a sort, as that all other Knowledge may conduct thee to the Knowledge of thy God. Vain is thy hope to join the Knowledge of the World with that of Heaven: Thy Heart is already too little for that God that is infinite, and for that Object, which hath no bounds: and if once thou sufferest thyself to be employed in the Images of all the Creatures, where wilt thou find room for God's Image? The Eyes of Owls, being accustomed to darkness, cannot endure the brightness and splendour of the Sun. A Mind always taken up in the contemplation of bodily things, cannot sustain the brightness of that Being of Being's, of that pure Spirit, that shines with so great a lustre.   

Prayer.  
O Invisible and glorious Sun, that discoverest not thy beauries, but to Souls purified from the vain Images of the World, cleanse my Soul by the purity of thy Beams, chase away that Darkness that blinds my Eyes; And from my Imagination banish the vain Phantoms, which hinder me from contemplating solely the pure Lights of thy Truth. I know thee, O my God, because it has pleased thee to reveal thyself unto me: But what is it that I know of thy Greatness, in comparison of what is really and what may be known of it? I see the obscurity; I form to myself an Idea of thy Essence and Majesty, which sinks infinitely below thy very self. I do thee this wrong, O my God, yet I am not blame-worthy, for I cannot do otherwise. I ask thee forgiveness; I am very sensible, I do not know thee as thou art: 'Tis rather the fault of my Mind than of my Heart. Purify mine Eyes, that I may behold thee which as vigorous an Aspect as that of an Eagle, which looks upon the Sun. Let the Knowledge of thy Beauty charm me, and fill me in such sort as that I may conceive an holy distaste for all that is called in the World rare Knowledge, and great Literature. Let me not scatter myself in the circumference: Let all my looks be toward thee, who art the Centre, from whence flows all the Beauty and Truth in the World. Let me but see thee, and in seeing thee shall I see all that can be seen. Let my Soul rally and recollect itself upon this Object only that it may penetrate it, if it be possible. O God aid me in this design, make thyself visible, make me to enter into the bottom of thy Mysteries and into the secrets of thy infinite Wisdom; that I may slight and despise as unworthy of me all the curious sciences, whereof the men of the Age make so great a Mystery.    

CHAP. VII. The Rareness and interruption of holy Exercises: The last Source of Indevotion.  
THE foregoing Obstacles, I confess, are very strong, and the love of the World, its Pleasures, its Troubles, its Employments, and the Rambling of the Mind are such evils, as are hard to be remedied: But nevertheless I believe, that we may come to an end in labouring about them with much care and affiduity; For the most evident Cause of our Indevotion is the seldomness and Interruption of holy Exercises. Certain it is, that spiritual Pleasures are diametrically opposite to carnal ones. The rareness only and the difficulty render these brisk and eager. The taste of Pleasure we lose amidst Delights: And assoon as the Pleasures of the World have lost the Grace of Novelty, they have lost their Value. Yesterday a Beggar counted himself happy with a small sum; To day he finds a greater; And to morrow he will be no more sensible of his felicity. If great Repasts be made at a pretty distance of time from one another, the pleasure of the Debauch will be something to you; return to 'em every day, seeing that this will be called an Ordinary, the pleasure of feasting will quite cease, but on the other side return often to God, reiterate your commerces with him; and sure I am, what appeared at the beginning unsavoury, will become a pleasurable exercise. But if you do this rarely, you will immediately lose the taste. The reason of this mystery is not difficult to be discovered: It is, because Piety and its exercises are by us esteemed Labours, by reason of the criminal dispositions which Sin brings us. Now labour evermore is diminishing according to the measure wherein we continue it. The traveller is weary at the end of his first days Journey; on the morrow he will be much less: before two days are over, his Journey will be a mighty trouble to him, but such an one as will have proportion to his strength, and in few Weeks it will become to him a divertisement. By violence at first we bring our Soul to God: it follows with uneasiness: It thinks the way uneven, sharp and craggy, but by little and little this Travel ceases to be a pain, and blessedly changes itself into pleasure. Is it not true, that the less we do a thing we do it not so well? The Virtues are habits; and though Heaven bestow 'em upon us by pouring them within our Souls, it notwithstanding gives us them much in the same manner, as we acquire them by divers reiterateed actions. Wherefore as no one is a Good Soldier for his having been in one Campaign, nor a Painter for his having had two or three Lessons; So the Devout do not become so by one or two actions of Piety, but by long and frequent exercises. This is a War; wherein we have to fight against our thoughts, against the hardness of our own thick, Icy heart: At the first and second rencontre, we are beaten oftentimes; so that at all bouts we must return to the charge. Indevotion is a monster, which we are obliged to mortify by little and little, for that we cannot kill it all at once. To day we ought to get one foot of it and to morrow another; but if we let it get breath never so little, it will soon regain what it had lost. When we shall have come to destroy it almost entirely, let us not imagine, that Assiduity will be the less necessary: For if the rareness of devout exercises hinders their progress, let Devotion be never so much advanced, the interruption and relaxation will destroy it. We may understand an art perfectly well, but if we don't exercise it, it is forgot. Above all, when we fight against our own inclinations, for a little abandoning them to their Bent, we shall find 'em again in the place, from whence we removed them. Our heart hath such a slopeness towards Sin as one can't imagine, and especially towards Indevotion, Let it be fortified with the best habits in the World, and let it be thoroughly confirmed in them, yet one inflaming thought coming across presently will set it all on fire, and choke the flames of Devotion by those of concupiscence. If the heart be so easy to be burnt by the fire of Sin, it is, on the contrary, very heavy and cold as to Devotion; insomuch as after having been lifted up to Heaven by Machine's and great struggle, the interruption of a few days will spoil all, and bring it down again to its old Earth. To prove this truth, I desire nothing but the testimony of fincere Souls. If some worldly Affairs, and some hindrances, to which you have given the name of unavoidable, have estranged you for sometime from the place of religious worship, and have made you lose your Closet-hours: at first this you do with some sort of pain, but insensibly you accustom yourselves to it; and when you would return to the practice of Devotion and the exercise of Prayer, you do not know yourselves any longer, and you feel an inconceivable heaviness in yourselves. The Conscience resembles the Stomach; cease to give it meat, and after much abstinence, it will cease to ask it: Do but stay a little longer, and if you give it food, it will not know what to do with it; it cannot now digest it; it has lost all its natural heat; its forces are quite spent; and doing no more of its wont Offices, it will leave the body for Food to Worms. So the Conscience loses an habit of Devotion by ceasing from its works, and the Soul dies in its crimes and Sins. In short, Devotion is a Virtue, that puts all the faculties of our Souls into motion, as one Spring makes all the rest in a Clock to move. Wind up this Clock without discontinuance, 'twill all go easily: but if you cease the Wheels will rust, all will become heavy and mightily unfit for movement. Let the exercises of Piety be constantly going on, and the Soul will conserve a Disposition to devout motions: if they be interrupted, it will bring a nastiness into all the parts of the Soul, which will deprive it of an easiness to move towards Heaven.  
These are the Sources of our Indevotion, and the Indispositions of Soul, which we ought to heal, to open unto us a way to this excellent Virtue. Others too we may find of them, but they will cast us into two general considerations. As for example: Who can doubt, that the languish of our Soul do not proceed from the weakness of our Faith, Hope, or Charity? If we were strongly persuaded that there is a God in Heaven that knows our though's and considers all our ways, that is called King of Men and Angels, opening Hell and Paradise, should we not present ourselves before him with a Spirit of due dread and submission? But alas! we believe after such a manner, as God hath need to help our unbelief. To be devout we need only become Faithful: and therefore the Fathers found no counsel more useful to guard us from Distractions than this To remember him to whom we speak. Can we doubt also, that our slackness does not come from the little love we have for God. One friend does not visit another, nor a lover his mistress with such an air of negligence, as we show in God's Service. If we were kindled with Love, all our motions would receive impressions from that heavenly fire. In a word, if the hope of glory had touched our hearts. we should not go so slowly to him, of whom we think to receive celestial happiness: But I know not, whether this can be counted among the Sources of Indevotion, since that the want of Faith, Hope and Charity, is Indevotion itself.  
To conclude, we must confess, that we often find ourselves in some certain Indispositions of Heart, whereof we can render no account nor reason; to day we are all Fire, to morrow all Ice. An upright Soul instantly pursues and awakens its self, thinks on every thing that may inflame it: It examines its own Conscience, to see, whether it hath committed any thing to dissorder, its heart and grieve the spirit of Grace it finds nothing whereof it can accuse its self, and knows not from whence it hath this coldness Whence then proceed these inequalities? Perhaps from the changeable nature of man, who is not always himself; and peradventure from the Temperament too as well as the disposition of the Air. As the Soul imprisoned in the Body does not act but by its Organs and depends extremely on the motion of its humours; it's very manifest, that Devotion also depends on these dusty Springs and Wheels, whose pace is frequently seduced and spoiled. And it may be the Devil finds his time, and amidst the good seed sows his Tares, in our field. In some perhaps God's holy Spirit, the author of every good thought, has hid himself for sometime. This drought and barrenness of the Soul may proceed from that God hath locked up the Sources of those Waters springing up to eternal Life. However it be, this mischief does cause much trouble to devout Souls. We need not, for a cure, employ any other remedy but Prayers and Tears. The Soul must say: Come Lord Jesus, come thou Son of my Soul, disperse this darkness, make the morning Starr to rise in mine heart. Why dost thou hid thyself? I have sought thee in the night and found thee not. Open thy fountains, and make thy Rivers of Water to flow on me, that I may quench my thirst and be refreshed: make haste, O God of my Salvation.  

Meditation.  
WHAT Negligence is this, I find in myself? I take a great deal of pains to do all things well, which respect the present Life; but I take very little care of doing the only and main thing well, for which I ought to Labour. To make a progress in an Art, I exercise it often: I consult Masters, I make reflection on my Faults, that I may not fall into 'em again. But alas! my Soul, thou dost not use thyself so in the Exercises of Devotion. Very rarely it is, thou dost them; And frequently without Reflection, and therefore thou dost them ill. Thou dost them rarely, because thou dost them without Pleasure: And thou dost them without any good, because thou dost them in a careless Fashion and not with thy whole Bent of Heart. Return to 'em often, and thou shalt find such Delights in them as the Heart of Man cannot conceive.   

Prayer.  
O my God, my divine Saviour, open the fountains of thy Grace, and let Rivers flow upon me. Make me sensible of the advantage of possessing thee, and the pleasures of enjoying thee; so that I may not draw myself both seldom and difficultly to the places, where thou speakest to me and I to thee in thy Temple, or in the retreat of my Closet. Draw me that I may run after thee. When I design to approach thee by the actions of my Devotion, be not thou far from me. I know I am unworthy thou shouldst come under my Roof. 'Tis not long since mine heart was a den of Thiefs and the haunt of unclean spirits: but these filthy Guests have left some remainder of Impurities behind them, which render this Tabernacle unworthy of thy Holiness. Nevertheless, thou Sun of my Soul, whose rays cannot be soiled nor defiled by the impurity of the places through which they pass, pierce even to my Marrow, put thy Fire within me, which may purge me, and kindle me with the flames of thy Love. If I sleep in security, awaken me; if I tumble into neglect, and happen to break off the holy exercises of Piety, so necessary to conserve Devotion, knock at the Door of my heart, to make me vigilant and watchful: and if the hammer of thy word be not sufficient, spare not even that of Afflictions. Rend me inpieces rather than leave me in my own natural hardness: for thy blows will not wound my head; they will be to me sweeter than Balm. Come to my help, O my redeemer, to accomplish the victory over my Infirmities. I am heavy and material; make me spiritual and heavenly. The motions of Grace and of Devotion which lift me up on high, are opposite to the motions of Nature, that pull me down: In this Duel tossed I am grievously and turmoild betwixt two contraries. Nature hath the Insolence to oppose Grace, and this Combat makes the exercises of my Devotion to be so few: But render them, O holy Spirit easy and pleasant to me, that I may return to them frequently.     

PART III.  

CHAP. I. That Pleasure is the mortal enemy of Devotion: what are the Sentiments and maxims of the world about Pleasure and Voluptuosness.  
WE have examined the Sources of Indevotion, and have endeavoured to stop and stem them. But among all the rest one there is, more lively, more green, and more abounding in Impurites, and by consequence more an enemy to Piety; and that is the Spirit of the World: and after having well thought on't we find, that this Spirit of the World is the love of pleasure and sensual voluptuousness. Experience lets us see, that this Spirit is such an enemy to Devotion, as 'tis impossible to be animated with it and to be Devout. This perpetual use of sensual Pleasures does fix the Soul so strongly to Matter, as it becomes incapable of any Elevation. The more we have of union with sensible things, the more we are disunited from God. We ought therefore to turn, on this side, our greatest industry and endeavours, to strive to bring the Soul back to God, and make that strong application cease, it hath for Material things; so as it may lean and adhere to God; and employ its self about him. Upon which account, although the overgreat sensibility we have of earthly pleasures, has had its Chapter above, among the other Sources of Indevotion, we believe we have not said enough upon so great and so important a Subject. This is a monster too redoutable to be beat and quelled by the By and with so much negligence. If we could get rid of that we should gain all; but if it continue the Master, it's in vain we strive to become devout. And therefore I destined this third part to make such considerations therein, as may, if possible, ruin that grand Enemy of Devotion. Certain it is, Man was born for Pleasure, since he was created to be happy; and happiness consists in the Possession of Good, and the sense of that Possession makes Pleasure. The sovereign good of man consists in the Sole possession and absolute fruition of God, and in being united immediately and after a most intimate manner unto him. And Pleasure ought to spring from this strict and close Union with the Divinity. This Union is made by Knowledge and by Love; and pleasure arises from thence, that God applies himself to the Soul by infolding it in the Arms of his goodness and Beauty, and that he fills it with the light and joy of his countenance. Sin has so far enfeebled this Union of our Soul with God, that it hath no more sense of its pleasures; Your Sins have put a separation between you and your God: and it is like a thick cloud that eclipses the Sun as to us. Whose comfortable beams would raise so much joy within us. The Soul has kept this sentiment, that it was born for Joy and Pleasure: insomuch as being disunited from its God, it entirely turns its self to the Body and its Pleasures; and the stricter it is united to these, the farther off it is from them. The ligament of this union o'th' Soul to the body is Corporal Pleasure: and proportionably as this pleasure ties the Soul to the Body, so it disunites it from God: so that sensual pleasures cause this Disunion: and this Disunion is propperly Indevotion which we would destroy: for most assuredly Devotion is that motion of the Soul whereby she returns to her Principle and to the fruition of those pleasures, that spring from her union with God. Let worldly people take the pains to consult their own heart, and that will tell them what we are about to say: They well perceive that the reason why they cannot dispose themselves to Prayer, to the love and Service of God, is, because they are possessed by their passions, and enchanted by the delusions of Sense: That is to say, they are absolutely turned toward sensual pleasures, and wholly taken up in them. The Soul is pinched and contracted, the mind is bounded when its full of the World and its vanities; so that we need not wonder if God who will have the Soul entire, find no room therein.  
Indeed, a very difficult work this is, we undertake to persuade, that those, who would become Devout, aught to renounce worldly pleasures. Although the Corruption of them be extreme we do not place all pleasures in the same rank: we distinguish them into two orders. There are those which are called excesses, enormities and crimes: but these the World abandons, and has not the face to defend. There are others styled innocent Pleasures, Dancing, Play, good Cheer, great Meals, Feasts, Playhouses Shows, vain Conversations, the commerce of Gallantry, and Intrigues that are the guides to criminal Amours. The Church distinguishes Pleasures, as well as the World; Both agree, that there are Innocent ones: But the Church puts the greatest part of those, which the World upholds to be innocent, into the number of criminal pleasures.  
Voluptuosness is an Idol, to which the World Sacrifices, both young and old, Men and Women, Children and old Men, great and small, rich and poor; all ages, both Sexes, all conditions have their Pleasures: Insomuch much as if we go according to suffrages, we should lose the Cause. Especially, Young men cannot endure, one should takeaway the use of Pleasure, they persuading themselves that youth is predestinately consecrated to it. The Painters and Poets that contribute to mar and vitiate men's minds, represent Voluptuousness to us like a young Woman, or Man, laid upon a Bed of flowers, environed with all the Objects, which are bodily pleasures. The Passions, that are wholly carnal, and have a straight Alliance and Correspondence with the Senses, are in boiling youth: The Flesh all brisk, active, and vigorous, having received no manner of Mortification, Hector's and Domineers with insolence. Whereupon young men follow the furies of their Temper and Crasis: The sentiments of Piety and the habits of Virtue are not to be found naturally in them. So that reason, destitute of this Succour, is easily vanquished by the Passions. We may say also, that Reason, in this age, conspires with the Passions, and serves only to push on young people into the greatestexcess and extravagences. After their own fashion they reason, they are persuaded, that wisdom and prudence do not become them, they say, that these properly belong to old men; and thus abuse the saying of the Wiseman: To every thing under the Heaven there is a season. If any one has more happy inclinations, he is not so hardy as to follow them; he is stricken with a criminal shame; he would not have himself marked out for a singular Fop, He cast himself into the crowd, and lets himself be carrieds away with the stream: And even those, who are reputed Wise in the World, if they dare not authorise these Irregularities, at least they excuse them. They are young, say they, they will come to it at length; we must allow somwehat to Age: we are not born wise; we were such as they are; they may be one day what we are.  
But alas! we do not stay there; we do not renounce Pleasures, as we leave our youthful years behind us: the love of Voluptuousness is a malady we carry along with us through all Ages. We go as slow as possibly or (to speak better) we go on not at all. Old Age and Sickness pull men sometimes away by violence from Pleasure; but we seldom view those, that voluntarily divest themselves of worldly pleasures: This is the most uncommon of all Sacrifices. How many Women do we see that would hold out even against time, and foreslow themselves from being carried off the Stage? They forget nothing, that may contribute to conserve the air of youthfulness: They would deceive Men, and I know not whether or no they hope to deceive Death itself. They would evermore be the object of the World's care, and have a part in all its Pleasures. When old age is come, and has lain its Characters open in their mien, they draw a Screen before it to render it invisible. You see these Women, Idolatresses of the World, to bury their head under an heap of Powder; that they may confound the whiteness of their grey hairs with this adulterated and strange whiteness: They fill the dints and hollows of their countenances with cozening Ceruse; they shadow the wrinkles of their forehead with false hair and paints; and, in which they are most prudent, they embalm their Bodies, and cover them with Perfumes, to corrupt the ill odours that arise from the Carcases. In this equipage they mingle themselves in all companies: they would be engaged in all sorts of Pleasures. They are seen in Balls and Comedies, trembling with weakness: they cannot see to distinguish red from black, nor four from two, but play they will at Cards and Dice with Spectacles. In sum, after having been the Idols of the World, they punish it for the crimes they have made it commit; they become its punishment and its curse. These are the Spectres and Phantomes, that follow it: It flies them and has 'em in horror and detestation  
Are men more wise than Women? Do not we see of the other old sinners, that have their members worn and wasted by Debauchery, but whose concupiscence within is as young and boiling as ever. Their inclinations are always vicious; but their members can no more obey, as the Servants of their beastly pleasures. While I look upon these men, I represent to myself what Happiness, after the burning of an house: when the great fire is over we along time after see Sparkles; and points of flames break out of an huge mass of Ashes; so as by this we guess the fire is still in, and that it only wants Fuel and Matter. We may say, that these old men are now but a little heap of hot Embers, and of the Relics of the Conflagration; but from amidst these Ashes we see the wild and sudden sparks of concupiscence jetting out one after another: whereby 'tis plain, that the love of Voluptuousness is still alive within, and the body wants only strength to act.  
All men therefore hold clearly for Pleasure: They are not contented to defend it by plurality of Voices, they would maintain it by reasons: God and Nature, say they, make nothing in vain: The earth is covered with living creatures, the Sea filled with Fishes, the Air peopled with Birds, and the Universe is full of Delights. Is it possible say they, that God has made so many things for our use to keep us from the use of them? has the author of Nature made so many sensible Wonders to fill the Senses with illusions, and to excite criminal passions? has the finger of God writ upon every Creature Touch me not? At this rate the condition of Man is now very forlorn and miserable: when he was in Paradise he had but one Tree, whose Access was not permitted him: and lo! all the good things of the World are become so many reserved and Mortal fruits, which no one is suffered to touch without incurring his Death. And does this show God's wisdom and goodness to have placed me among so many objects of Temptation, if I cannot yield without sinning? Is not there a natural Bond and connexion betwixt Love and Beauty, betwixt the desirable things and the Desires? And why should God have made so many good and desirable things if he would keep me from the enjoyment and desire of them? Alas! say they, Are there not enough unavoidable things, but we must seek such as can be avoided and since worldly goods, If they be not the rewards of the Blessed, yet are the comforts of the unhappy: why will we not enjoy those Pleasures which are the sweetening refreshments of our pains? If you take joy away from the Soul, do you not withal take Life away too? do ye not bury it alive? do you not make of man's life a sad and gloomy night? in a word, do not you render Man the most miserable of all Creatures? they say, Lastly, that religion is not to serve not so horridly beset with Thorns, as some would make one believe: If we ascend even to the Source, we find it say they, more pure and more dissengaged from those rigours, wherewith Superstition; has invested it: the Saints have had their Debauches they have thanked God, he has given them a Table covered with delicious meats a full bowl, and overflowing Cup. They have said, that Wine was intended to make glad the heart of man; our Lord Jesus Christ, the Author of the true Religion had his Feasts, and was frequently at such: he was at the marriage in Cana of Galilee, and there he made excellent Wine to please the Guests. Thus do they plead for voluptuousness, and the unhappiness is, that these maxims do not obtain only in the World, they try to bring them into the Church. They have put Guides and Directours, that dress up a Religion of Flowers, and cry Prepare the way; make the Paths plain. Enlarge the ways and make a great road that all the World may come into it: These make our Devotions easy, and they cry; My Yoke is easy and my burden light. Love renders the Yoke of our Lord easy, for it is altogether sweet and easy to him that loves: but these ill Doctors render their yoke easy in dispensing with the love of God and permitting the Love of the World and the search after pleasing the Senses. And this is the reason why both in the Church and in the World there are so few Devout because there are so many voluptuous persons.  

Meditation.  
ALas, what a wretched Creature I am! I do not the good I would, but the evil I would not, that do I. I understand well the strength of Reasons on Piety's side, that call upon me to renounce the vain pleasures of the Earth: The weakness, I perceive, in the reasonings of the advocates of Pleasure. But those good reasons of Piety find the Gate locked; For that my Heart revolts against them; and the bad reasons, that maintain the use of sensuality, enter easily, since they are allied to the Corruption of my Heart. My Flesh is loath to find the Reasons of Piety so strong: it had rather those for voluptuousness were the better: And on the other part my Mind is troubled while it sees the force of truth, to perceive in it that resistance against being overcome. I seriously bemoan this, that in viewing the weakness of Reasons, which draw me on Pleasure's side, yet nevertheless I should suffer myself to be carried away, as if they were very strong: for when all is done, Piety and Reason may join their forces, but it is Passion becomes victorious. O my Soul, thou idolatrizest sensuality; thou mayest indeed change place, but thy Gods thou ever carriest along with thee. If thou renouncest some Pleasure, thou dost not quit thy Idols, thou dost nought, but change: for the Love of Pleasure finds the means to lose nothing: when one object is taken away from it, it strait casts its self upon another. Judge ●hen, of what nature can thy Devotions be, seeing thou dividest 'em always between ●his Idol and the true God? Take one side, O my Soul choose and take that good part, which shall not be taken away from thee: ●hou canst not serve two masters, the World ●nd God. It may be thou blessest thyself ●n that thou hast forsaken the Pleasures of Youth, in that thou lovest not Play, nor Balls, nor Comedies any more. But thou dost not perceive, that thy Corruption ties ●hee to other Objects, and thou art always ●he slave of thy Passions and the drudge to thy senses. In thy youth thou tookest pleasure to throw money away, but now tho● makest it a pleasure to get and hoard it up: And what difference is there betwixt these two pleasures? Are not they both pleasures of Sense, and have they not both the same Source? do not they produce the same effect and estrange thee from thy God? hath a young brisk man, in giving himself up to sensual pleasure, any reason to think he deserve very highly, because he does not now play at push-pin, as he did in his childhood▪ Every age of life has its Passions and its Pleasures. But all are enemies to Piety and Devotion. Be not therefore in pain to kno● what makes thee sleep at Sermon; 'tis the Devil of voluptuousness that rocks thee asleep when thou ceasest to be attentive in th● prayers, it is he, who gets thy Ear and carries it elsewhere: And thy insensibility, 〈◊〉 to pleasure in the presence of thy God, wh● unites himself immediately to thee, proceed from thence, that thou art buried in matt●● and that being entirely turned towards corporal things, thou believest nothing Rea● but what strikes the sense, and thou own no true pleasure but what comes from se●sible things. Reenter then, o my Soul, 〈◊〉 enter into thyself, suffer not any longer bodily objects to blot out the very sight of thy Spirit: Search after the presence of thy God: Hear his eternal wisdom, which speaks to thee within thy heart: Resist the efforts the body makes to destroy thee. Trust not the report of thy senses: What they present thee, take 'em not for true pleasures. Regard not the things thou seest, as worthy of thy application and esteem: leave thyself to be filled with God, and to be entirely taken up by him: And if thou appliest thyself to him he will apply himself to thee; and from this mutual application between thy Soul and thy God, there will arise to thee such vast pleasures, as thy Imagination can never be capable to conceive.   

Prayer.  
MY Lord and my God, what shall I render unto thee for so many Benefits, and how shall I do to atone for so many Ingratitudes? Behold thou hast placed me in a Paradise; where all sorts of good things abound, and thou hast given me the use of all I see. Thou hast made sensible Creatures, that they may have accord and correspondence with my senses, and that they may be an help unto me to lift me 〈◊〉 to things Intellectual. But thorough my corruption they are become Snares and Sins unto 〈◊〉 I do not serve myself of these visible Creature to ascend to the invisible: I use them to g● downwards within myself: I wrap myself 〈◊〉 in matter, there I stick; and I bury myself 〈◊〉 corporeal things. Thus I make my Mind th● slave of my Body: Heaven, Earth, Air an● Sea are full of objects, which should aid me 〈◊〉 know, admire, and ●raise thee, but I use the● to offend thee. All is full of such things 〈◊〉 flatter the flesh, and raise sensual pleasures▪ But o my God thou didst make them with inte●● I should not seek after sensible pleasures in them, and overwhelm myself in carnal voluptuousness through thy profound wisdom and infinite power thou hast made Fishes in the Sea, Fowls in the Air, living Creatures on Earth, Plants and divers kind of Fruits, the most delicious Liquors; and all this for the taste; Perfumes fo● the smell; Beauties for the sight; harmonio● sounds for the Ears, and divers pleasuers for Touching. I am sure, O my God, thou hast made this to save me, and not to damn me: If I had continued innocent and in the state, wherein thou createst me, I could not have abused so many goods in possessing them; I should have ●ade such use of them, as would not have aba●ed my mind to sensible things, in seperateing ●ee from thee, to whom I should become perfectly ●nited. But now the Devil has spread his nets ●mong all thy Creatures; he has fixed tempta●ons to all the objects of my Senses. Thou berefore seest me o my God, environed with tempter's on all sides: I cannot open mine Eyes ●or Ears, but some Image arrives, that awak●●s my besotted Imagination, and foments my concupiscence. O my Saviour, be pleased to ●ard my Heart. Make me vanquish all these ●mptations: Give me the grace to reclaim and ●fer thy Creatures to their proper use, that ●may not abuse them in voluptuousness; That ●e Knowledge of them may serve me to admire by Power and Praise thy Wisdom; That from ●ese bodily Images I may draw spiritual Ideas; 〈◊〉 that I may find in all things wherefore to glo●fie thee, and my Spirit may return more and ●ore to thee, O eternal, infinite Spirit, which ●t the Father of Spirits.    

CHAP. II. That the Pleasures of the Senses, neither i● their Use, nor in their Abuse, do agree wit● the spirit of Christianity and Devotion.  
I Know very well, that this Maxim must appe●● strange to the greatest part of Mankind, espe●ally to them who are forestalled by those Principles which we have examined in the form● Chapter. The Maxims of the Church are as opposite to those of the World as Light to Darkness: T●● World authorises all the Pleasures of Sense, the Chu●● condemns almost all. We do not here draw up a p●●cess simply against those debauched People, whose na●● is odious even in the Ears of the World: We conde●● those, that repute themselves honest Persons, who, 〈◊〉 effect, have some degree of moral honesty, and wh● life is sheltered from the severity of laws, but who●● sum and spend their life in the use of vain, worldly pleasures. All those Pleasures, that some believe Innoc●● are Enemies to Devotion, and wholly disagree with● Spirit of Christianity, as well in their use as in their ab●● Now if we cannot render this Truth victorious by p●rality of Suffrages, at least we will endeavour to ren● it evident by strength of Reasons.  
And first of all, let us hear our Lord Jesus; Christ spe●ing from on high: For where can we better find 〈◊〉 Spirit of Christianity than in Christ himself? Let us h● him painting out the way to us that leads to life. W● is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to Destruct●● and many there be, which go in thereat. But straight is gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life. If 〈◊〉 wouldst be perfect, go sell all that thou hast, and follow 〈◊〉 If any one would come unto me, let him take up his Cross and follow me. If thy right Eye, or right Hand offend thee, pluck them [off] and cast them from thee. Blessed are the poor: Blessed are they, which hunger and thirst: Blessed are they that mourn and are persecuted. The Disciples follow their Master, and tell us likewise: Mortify your Members, which are upon the Earth. If any one love the World, the love of the Father abideth not in him. Be ye sober and watch: Conform not yourselves to this present wicked World. As Strangers and Pilgrims abstain from fleshly lusts. Have nothing to do with the unfruitful works of Darkeness: Make ●●t the Temples of the Holy Ghost the members of an Harlot. The Mind of the Prophets was not different from that of the Apostles, for they speak after this manner: Go to now, I said ●f Mirth, it is vanity, and of Laughter, it is madness. It ●s better for a young man to go to the House of mourning, ●han to go to the House of feasting: for that is the end of all ●hen; and the living will lay it to Heart. It is good for a man 〈◊〉 bear the yoke in his youth. I said in my Heart, I will ●reve thee with Mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure; And behold his also is vanity. Rejoice O young man in the days of thy south: but know that for all [these] things God will bring he unto Judgement. And now, in good earnest, are all these draughts of the Character of us Christians now a days? ●●ese Crosses, these Thorns, these rough Ways, these ●rait Gates, this Yoke, this renouncing the World and ●s Vanities, do they signify that we can follow our Lord ●esus Christ in the equipage of Sensuality, sometimes ●mong Feasts, sometimes Dance, sometimes at Comedies, and sometimes at Play? Those soft and effeminate Lives, that are spent at Card and Dice, in vain ●●d lewd Conversations, in the intrigues of fleshly love, ●ave they any resemblance with the combats, the ●rastlings, the races, from which the H. Spirit takes his emblems to paint out to us the Life of the Faithful? ●ight the good fight of Faith, and so run, that ye may obtain the prize. Keep under your Body and bring it into subjections So fight not as one that breaketh the Air. Heaven and Earth, Life and Death, are not more opposite to one another, than the Effeminate life of us Christians to this portrait of the Life of the Faithful which the holy Ghost hath given us.  
But above all let us remember, that the Spirit 〈◊〉 Christianity and of Devotion loves nothing so much a● Mortification, to which sensible Pleasures are mortal enemies. Mortify your members which are upon the Earth, St. Paul bids us: do they mortify their Members, that entertain and employ them in Volptuousness in lying upon Beds of Down, in pillaging Sea and Land to furnish them with delicate Meats, in joining A●● to Nature to compose delicious Liquors for them, and in running after all that may enchant their Senses? Some will say, that by these Member, whereof the Gospel commnads the Mortification, 〈◊〉 ought to understand Vices. Very well: But do 〈◊〉 we know that the Members of the Body are the orig●ne of the members of that Old Man, which makes Vice● we cannot kill Vice, but by mortifying our members. The flesh is that unhappy Field accursed by G●● which produces Thorns and Thistles: the more ye● fatten this Earth, the more will it produce of the● venomous Plants. So that we are obliged to keep it 〈◊〉 a great Privation of those Pleasures, that fomention cupisence, to the end it may continue mighty barr● in respect of those unhappy Products.  
The Spirit of Christianity and of Devotion is a Spirit of strength; but pleasure is soft: It softens the So● and effeminates the courage: and the Church requi●● a vigorous Soul, and an heart of a Temper, which ca●● not be wounded by the most weighty blows; nor t●● most edged and hacking gleaves of the Church's Enemy's. We are to march through an hundred and ●●●dred sharp Swords: He that would follow the Truth of Jesus Christ ought to resolve to suffer Persecution, since we have always, in our head, the Devil and the World. But can a soft and voluptuous Life be proper to dispose us to Martyrdom? In going out of a perfumed Bed, in rising from a Table almost weighed down with delicious meats, with an head filled with the furnes of a debauch; are we in a good state to mount Scaffolds, to enter into Flames, and, without quaking, look upon Racks and Tortures? whether is it more reasonable to look for the Heroes of Jesus Christ, capable of facing Death itself, among our Christians, that overwhelm and (as it were) fuddle themselves in pleasures, or among those, whose austere and retired Life has declared War to all the pleasures of the World? But, says one, we are not called to Martyrdom, and according to all appearances we shall never be. It may be so: but still it is of great importance, we should always have the necessary Disposition to suffer Martyrdom. For God will judge us not only according to what we do, but also according to what we would do. Furthermore, does any one believe, that the Sword and Fire of the Persecutors of the Church are the most dangerous of all Temptations? we imagine, we have need of strength and courage only to vanquish or undergo such torments. But alas! Some who have come off victorious from their bloody Bartels, have yet fallen into the snares of the Devil; and some that have born the marks and brands of the Lord Jesus, have become children of Hell, by letting 'emselves be surprised by the Devil of Pride, Covetousness, Uncleanness, or Heresy. Such an one who had torn a young Lion to pieces in his strength, broken the bands of the Philistines and piled heaps of dead bodies with the jawbone of an Ass, falls into the bracelets of a Dalilah, and is lead in herchains to an Idol Temple: This truth the World is not ignorant of. It was well said, that the Delights of Capua did more than the sword of the Romans, and that they found out the way to soften and break those hard Africans, that marched after Hannibal; and made victory to march after them. So the Tranquillity, God bestows on us, ought not to make us sleep in the Arms of Voluptuousness: Prosperity is a strong Temptation, and pleasure itself is a Monster, which we cannot overcome without a vigorous Resistance.  

Meditation.  
I Am reading a maxim, that makes me tremble. God will judge us both according to what we do, and according to what we would have done, if we had been exposed to those Temptations which may fall out in the Providence of God. True it is, there is scarce room for doubt in this maxim. And it's certain, that my God would have the highest purity of Heart; that no one is innocent in his sight, because he has committed no evil, but because he has not the inclination to commit it. He sounds the depths of the Heart, and searcheth the Reins, and he will judge according to what he knows, and not to what men see. In my heart he sees crimes in their very buds: And if these sins have not shot forth by reason of want of Earth, if they have not come forth for want of Occasion and Opportunity, I am therefore the more innocent; But on the other side also, who can undergo the Terror and Amazement that such a thought inspires? I may be then punished for a thousand crimes I never committed. So that it will be useless to me not to find in my life either Parricides, or Sacrileges, or Adulteries, or Idolatries, or Apostasies, since that I might have the seeds of them in my heart, and might have fallen into them, if I had been tempted and pushed on that aways. I must therefore give up mine Account before God. O my heart, canst thou answer for thyself? Thou art profoundly, and it may be desperately wicked, who knows thee? Canst thou say with a perfect confidence; Although I saw the beauty of Bathskeba, I would never fall into the snares of Incontinence with David? If I were tempted as Solomon, I would never become an Idolater, as he did? If I saw present death, I would never deny my Master with St. Peter? If these pillars were shaken and broken, what assurance canst thou have of resisting these winds, nay Hurricanes of Temptation, thou who art but a broked Reed? And if I must be judged for all the crimes I could commit, what will become of me, what shall I do, whither shall I turn myself, since till this present minute, I cannot give an account of the sins which I have committed? Think thus for thy comfort, O my Soul, that if thou art capable, of thyself, to fall into sins of surprise, and to yield to unforeseen Temptations, by the strength of that Grace, which is, and God will preserve in thee, thou art, on the other side, capable to lift thyself up again, to break out and weep bitterly, so as if God looks upon the sins as committed, which thou mightst have committed if thou hadst been tempted to commit them, he considers them also as effaced by Repentance, which he would thou hadst, if thou hadst committed them: though this does not hinder thee from working out thy Salvation with Fear and Trembling. Fear that piercing and severe Eye, which sees and punishes thy sins to come, as well as the present; which knows and abominates those evil dispositions of thy heart thou art not acquainted withal, as well as the sins thou wottest of. Choke the buds of thy Vices, lest they come to bring forth bitter branches, and be imputed to thee, though they should bring forth nothing. Endeavour in thyself to have Dispositions to all good works, and habits of all the Virtues. And in doing this, although God Almighty's Providence does not present thee with means to exert and exercise those Virtues, yet his goodness will judge thee according as thou wouldst have done hadst thou had the means. If thou art poor, and out of a condition to give Alms, the Judge will not fail to say; I was an hungry, and thou gavest me meat, thirsty and thou gavest me drink, naked and thou cloathedst me: yes, says he, thou hast done it, because thou wouldst have done it, if it had been in thy power.   

Prayer.  
THE more I think of thee, O my God, the more I find thy Judgements incomprehensible and thy Ways past finding out. I stand in infinite arrears to thy goodness, but I own thee infinitely more than I see: and the benefits, that are hid from me, surpass those which are known to me; for thy mercy hath depths which it is impossible to sound. I ought to look upon as so many goods, all the evils, I am saved by thee from: seeing I am but a weak Mortal, and a thousand enemies that continually are justling me, would give me a thousand assaults, and a thousand times wholly seize upon me, were it not for thy protecting me and preventing them. But above all, into the number of Obligations I ought to put that which I have to thy Sovereign goodness, the infinite number of sins, which I might have, but have not committed. For I may thank the World for the seeds of all those crimes, and those seeds had sprouted first and grown up to the height of the Cedars of Libanus, if thy good Grace had not choked them. I am environed with Temptations, and there is not one of them but is allied to some motion of my concupiscence: insomuch that if thy Grace were not a Bridle to my heart, that tames and breaks it, it would fling out every moment, and take its full swing in dissoluteness. So I acknowledge, O my God, 
St. Augustin.  that to thee I own all the good I have, and all the evil I have not; I own to thee the Remission of all the sins I have committed, because thou hast pardoned them; and I look upon as pardoned all those I have not committed, because thy Grace hath prevented my committing them. This teaches me in what manner I ought to understand that which thou hast told me, O my Saviour, To whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. This was to discover the proud Pharisee, to whom thou spakest, the source of his Indevotion and his little love. He believed he had less obligation to thy Mercy, because having committed fewer sins, as he thought, he believed he owed thee much less. As for me, I say, to whom lesser is forgiven, the same loveth more. Yes, O my God, I have more obligation for the sins which thou hast prevented my committing, than for those, thou hast remitted me: It is a much greater good to render a man invulnerable, than to cure him of the Wounds he has received; it is better never to fall into the Fire and Water, than to be drawn out thence with the peril of continuing there: And it is more happy always to be well, than to recover of a sickness. But above all, since it is a great unhappiness to have offended thee, O God, 'tis a much greater blessing to have been preserved from sin by thy Grace, than to re-enter into favour after having violated thy most sacred Majesty. O my Redeemer, deliver me then from all iniquity to come, prevent me in all my misdoings, dry up the source of my crimes, root every ill disposition out of my heart, dispose me to all the Virtues; that I may be judged in thy sight to have fulfilled all Righteousness, that I may be rewarded even for the good works I had not done, because I had an intention to do them.    

CHAP. III. Other Considerations upon this Truth: That the pleasures of sense, nor in their Use, nor in their Abuse, agree with the spirit of Christianity and Devotion.  
THE Pleasures of the World are for the senses, or for the imaginations. Now these faculties are corporeal, and consequently all their pleasures are corporeal too: this is enough to teach those that would follow the mind of the Gospel that they cannot lawfully seek them. For the Gospel, of our Lord Christ leads Men to neglect and contemn that Body: And therefore it speaks of it with so much 'Slight. According to the style of the Holy Ghost, The Body is but Dust and Ashes, an earthly Tabernacle, an House of Clay destroyed by Worms, a Flower that cometh forth and is cut down, a River that runneth apace, a Shadow which disappears, a Dream which vanisheth away, a Smoke which is consumed in its lifting up. And as it speaks of it with contempt, so it would also that we have little care of it. Take no care of the Body saith St. Paul, to obey the lusts thereof. Take no thought for the morrow; the morrow shall take thought for the things of its self: be in little pain for what ye shall eat, or wherewithal ye shall be clothed.  
As for the Soul, the holy Spirit would have us turn all our cares on that side. He would have us vigilant and sober, because the Devil watches about it as a roaring Lion, seeking to devour it. He commands us to work out our Salvation with fear and trembling, and that we be in a perpetual solicitude about it. He Order us to nourish it with the milk of the Word, sincere and without deceit, and that we furnish it with strong meats. He wishes us to entertain it continually in an holy joy. He would have us search after those sovereign pleasures that are to be found in the possession of God, which are only for the Soul. The Gospel requires of us to embellish it, and that we labour to adorn it, that it may be found a glorious Spouse not having spot or wrinkle, worthy to be presented to its head, the Lord Jesus Christ. Examine the conduct of Voluptuous men; it is quite contrary to this: they act as if they were all Flesh, and as if their Soul were only Salt to keep the Body from corrupting. All the Ideas they have of Pleasure, derive from the Senses and the Imagination, and without a metaphor, they are (as they call themselves) Men of Sense, and they conceive no more what we call spiritual pleasures, than blind men do colours. As therefore, they never tasted other delights than bodily ones, they believe themselves obliged to the Body for all their Happiness▪ And in effect so it is: For at the time when they taste carnal Pleasures, we cannot say they are unhappy, since happiness consists in Pleasure and Joy, and they have them at that moment: So that because we entirely love what we consider as the source of our felicity, we cannot think it strange that these worldly People love their body perfectly, which they look upon as the only Source of their Pleasures. We see also, that these men have the same Sentiments for their Body as holy men have for God, who is their sovereign good, and in whom they find their sovereign pleasure. They adore this Body of theirs, they cherish, they perfume it, they offer Incense and Sacrifice to it: If one should give a blow or a gird to this same Body, Oh! how jealous they are on't as of a Divinity. More Indignation they have against him that should hurt this Flesh, than against a Blasphemer or a Sacrilegious Person. In a word, their Body holds so much of a Divinity, that they Sacrifice unto it, even their very Conscience, nay and God himself. But nothing is more opposite to the spirit of Christianity and Devotion than this Sentiment. For the truly faithful ones are obliged to slight the Body, to sacrifice it to God, to see it torn in pieces for his name, and to renounce all the pleasures of sense for his Glory.  
The Spirit of the Gospel and of Devotion absolutely tends to the contempt of the World; but the spirit of Voluptuousness and sensuality to the love of the World. How must we love the World, when it caresses us, and is mighty kind and pleasurable to us, if we love it when it persecutes us and steeps us in Gall? The World is a mere Cheat and Gull, and an undeniable Source of Delusions: it masks itself, and would be seen by us under the image of fleshly pleasure: It embraces us under the habit of Flowers, but under these Flowers are a thousand Thorns. We do not see these thorns, we only smell the Flowers; we are sensible of such pleasures and love that causes them: But all the World knows, nought is more contrary to Devotion than the love of the World, and we have made it appear elsewhere: so as by consequence nothing is more opposite to the spirit of Christianity and Devotion than sensual Pleasure.  
The Spirit of Christian Religion would inspire a contempt of the present, and a desire after the other Life. Now certain it is, that nothing ties men so much to Life, as the pleasures of Sense: the Saints say, and aught to say, I desire to departed and to be with Christ which is far better. I know, when this earthly house shall be dissolved, we have an House eternal in the Heavens; and therefore we desire to be clothed upon with our House which is from Heaven. None of these things moving, neither count I my Life dear unto myself. As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my Soul after thee, O God. When shall I come, and appear before God? It's impossible that men, who live in a perpetual use of Voluptuousness, should have these thoughts. Every one wishes to be happy, and when once he is, or at least believes he is so, he cannot renounce what he fancies the cause of his felicity: these carnal-minded men think themselves happy at such time as they enjoy their Pleasures; they have no Idea of any other Beatitude but of that they enjoy in this present life. They can every day speak both about another life, and another happiness: But they have got an habit not to let themselves be touched but by sense and Imagination: and so because this life and this happiness do not fall under their Senses; nor can be imagined by them, they cannot consider them but as imaginary Being's, which have no relation to them; because they have not any Idea of them in their minds. Moreover their hearts meeting in this life with a fat Land, that is, much prosperity, do take very deep rooting there. Their affections being thoroughly engaged in carnal pleasures, bound themselves in the possession of Sensible Objects: they wish for nothing more besides, for that no body wishes for things which he does not know, and whereof he has no clear and certain Ideas: The Earth becomes their Country, they naturalise themselves here; every thing else is a strange and unknown Land.  
Let people say what they please: but questionless we have an ill preparation for Death in the continual use of those pleasures, whose Innocence the World maintains. O Death, said a Wise Man, how cruel is the remembrance of thee to him that lives quietly among his Possessions. One lives indeed more commodiously in a Palace than in a Prison; but one finds it more trouble to die in that than in this. How insupportable is the thought of Death, his presence how affrightful to him, who lives in the midst of Pleasures! he looks upon Death as a Judge that comes to pronounce on him a dismal Sentence; or an Executioner, that seizes him to be lead to punishment. But the faithful one, who has ever held his Flesh in an entire Privation of Carnal Pleasures, fancy's Death as a Messenger that brings him good news, as a deliverer that is come to throw down the four Walls of his Prison down to the Ground, and will leave a passage free on all sides to fly away to Heaven. The Voluptuous they must be dragged to death; they lay hold on every thing in the way to stop themselves: they give place to necessity, but they do it with an awkward and ill grace. These therefore, who multiply the pleasures of their Senses, make themselves Chains, the breaking whereof will cost them many a groan and many a tear. But pious people who have renounced the pleasures of life, cannot be in pain to forsake the present life, since they have quitted that which life has most agreeable.  
I should say here, that the Pleasures of Sense are enemies to Devotion, because they absolutely take away the taste of the Spiritual Pleasures which the faithful find in the commerce they have with God; but that I have said it already, and it is so evident both in Reason and Experience. We know, that those Slaves of sensual Pleasures look upon all that is said of the pleasures of Devotion as mere idle Stories. Speak to them of the delights which the faithful Soul tastes when God speaks to it within its heart, and during, the silence of its passions, of the sweetness it finds in meditating on the Love he hath for us, and in contemplating on its Mysteries; All this will appear to them as Dream and Vision.  
Undoubtedly, one is not sensible of the pleasures of the Mind, but in proportion, as he hath renounced those 〈◊〉 the Body. And therefore we Christians are all so little touched with Spiritual pleasures, with Prayer, Meditation, Contemplation; because we are not of those who have perfectly renounced Sensual pleasures. In this respect, we must confess Rich and Great men are exposed to great Temptations: their condition, say they, obliges them to draw after them a great equipage of Pleasures; if it be so, they are very unhappy: And in prospect to this, it may be, our Saviour said; How hard a thing is it for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven? Riches and Grandeur are continual Temptations to Voluptuousness, and it's very difficult for him that is always tempted, not to yield sometimes. But although Moderation and Temperance are praiseworthy, when they are kept amid so many Enemies that conspire their ruin, it is very rarely so; and therefore Devotion is not so common among them, who, by their Rank, fancy themselves obliged to live evermore in Pleasures.  
In short, if it be permitted us to draw proofs from Examples, as without doubt it ought to be, we may easily prove, that the Spirit of Devotion and Christianity are enemies to Sensual Pleasures. Whether are the Christians of our age, that live with a freedom, which austere morality calls Libertinage, better entered in the spirit of Christianity, than the Christians of former ages, who led a most severe and rigorous life? Many there have been, who not finding a retreat secure enough, in the World, against the temptations of Voluptuousness, have gone to seek it in Deserts, where they found none but pure and innocent Objects: some have worn Sackcloth as John the Baptist: and others residing in humane Society have preferred Fast and mortification of the Body before Pleasures of the Sense. Do ye believe, that these people were wiser than us, or are we wiser than them? I know some will not hesitate on the matter, but file these Austerities to the account of Fanaticism and Delusion of the Spirit of Error. But certainly, this is a rash Judgement, for which we appeal to the Tribunal of God, to whom alone appertains the right of distinguishing Sincerity from Hypocrisy in such austere lives.  
But would we have an example that is not subject to error, let us look up to our Lord Jesus Christ: had his life any thing common with sensual pleasures? You see him born in a Stable, brought up in the house of a Carpenter: you see him fast forty days in the Wilderness; you see him live on the Alms of Women that followed him. We hear him declaring, that he had not whereon to lay his head: We see him go on foot and without equipage, from City to City. And does this now relish of the Spirit of the World, and a delicious Life? Who can know better what is the spirit of Christianity than our Saviour himself, and what are the effects of Devotion, but he who was perfectly devoted to his Father? after this, let none tell me, that our Lord was no enemy to Pleasures, because he was present at Feasts and Nuptials. It were to be wished that our Lord Jesus Christ were at all our Feasts; We should not see Insolence and Debauchery to reign there, Wisdom, Temperance, Sobriety, and the highest moderation would march in his Train.  

Meditation.  
SEeing thou art compassed about, O my Soul, with so great a cloud of witnesses, run with patience the Race that is set before thee? seeing so many, so holy, so excellent examples have gone before thee, thou must follow and imitate them. Wouldst thou follow an Elias in the Desert, a Moses on the Mountain, fasting forty days, and not feed but on the bread of Ravens, nor drink but of the water of a Torrent? But these are particular Vocations, that do not refer to thee. Nevertheless, if any one would imitate John Baptist, wear Sackcloth with him, be clothed with Camel's hair, and eat locusts and wild-honey: let's not say, because he is not come eating nor drinking he hath a Devil. Have a care of making such rash judgements. Those that come to exhort men to repentance, must preach up mortification, both in their actions and words, and habit and food. Thou hast great need, O my heart, both to mortify thyself and to repent: so as it would be very necessary that thy Body should carry Sackcloth and Ashes. But this example of John Baptist does not become a Law; and if thy God hath not commanded it thee, thou canst not be obliged thereby. Behold then another example, another model much more perfect which thou oughtest to follow; and that is of thy Saviour, the pattern by whose traces thou oughtest to guide thy steps. Live as he did, and thou wilt live well enough. The Disciple should not hope to be greater than his Master. He lived in the World but he was not of the World; He eat and drank to give examples of Sobriety. He conversed with men, to teach them to speak wisely and piously; for he never opened his mouth but for edification. He is the model of all, which thou oughtest to suffer, to do, to abstain from. Suffer patiently with him the rebukes, and the outrages of the World: drink as he did, with a spirit of Submission, the cup of God's wrath when he shall present it thee: do good works with him: spend the day in doing good to the afflicted, and the night in Prayers: let thy meat be to do, both night and day, the will of thy Father which is in Heaven: Abstain, as he did, from all the pleasures of the World: take his Cross upon thee, and mortify thy Sin in thy flesh, since thy Saviour has mortified it in his. If any one loves me, says he, let him come after me and follow me. Alas my Soul! how far off art thou from him, how imperfect thy imitation, and how much dost thou sink below thy example? But lose no courage, labour, walk on, let the things alone that are behind, and tend to those which are before. The holy Ghost, that was sent by thy Saviour, will conduct thee in the most difficult path, as in a smooth and even Country: If thou canst not attain the perfection of that great Example God has set before thine eyes, at least approach as near to it, as thou art able. For, in short, if thou wouldst be happy with him, thou must with him be righteous and holy: Thou must enter in at the straight Gate, and walk in the way of Mortification to arrive at that life, whereof he is both the Author and the Source. The Soul of thy Saviour did not only continue void of all sensual Pleasures, but it was penetrated by the most piercing Dolours. To imitate him, renounce fleshly pleasures, and submit thyself to the anguishs of Repentance.   

Prayer.  
O My divine Redeemer, my Jesus, my Saviour, and my God, thou wouldst I should imitate thee: Thou hast said unto me, Learn of me: and thy Apostles say, Look up to Jesus the Author and finisher of your Faith; be ye Imitators of us, as we are of Christ. It is fit, O my Saviour I should imitate thee: Thou hast taken mine infirmities that I might glory in possessing thy Virtues. But if this be glorious, how difficult is that? I can do all by thee, who strengthenest me, and I can do nothing by myself. Give me therefore grace necessary to fulfil that which thou commandest me; and after this command whatever thou wilt. Thou hast made thyself like unto me in taking upon thee my flesh, make me like unto thee by giving me thy Spirit. I am thy Image, O my God, but a defaced, corrupted one, over which the Devil has displayed his infamous Characters. Cleanse me again, and repass the Pencil of thy Grace over those effaced Lines of this Image; and wash away all the impurities which the World has poured upon it. If I cannot follow thee, draw me, that I may run after thee. Give me the wings of thy love, that I may fly to thee: give me, O my Saviour, the desire of imitating thee; for, I would imitate thee; I will it, O my God, but it does not come from a victorious but a slavish will. I will it, but I do it not, and I see by this that I will it not. Lord, give me both to will and to do. My flesh thinks the way thou hast walked in rough and uneasy: it recoils and starts back at the sight of those Difficulties: how wanton, lose and wicked is this unhappy Flesh! How would it have done, hadst thou indispensibly commanded it to walk in the way of thy forerunner John Baptist, to dwell in the Wilderness; to have for ones habitation a Grott at the foot of a Mountain or the Trunk or shadow of an old Oak, to have a Raiment of hair; to dine on Locusts and a little wild Honey for a great meal? If thou didst not lead this sort of life thyself, 'twas to spare us, and not make us imitate a life almost inimitable. These are only the outfides of Piety, which may sometimes be the mantle of Hypocrisy, but thou hast given me to imitate the greatest Examples of real, solid, and internal Virtues. If thou command'st me not to wear an hair Garment, thou will that I should put on holiness and righteousness; bowels of mercy, and a patiented mind. If thou dost not send me into the Desert, thou wouldst have me retire into the secret of the heart for to conversewith thee, and comprehend the Truth which thou wouldst reveal unto me. If thou oblige me not to eat only Locusts; at lest 'tis thy good Pleasure I should oftentimes eat the Bread of Tears, and mingle my Drink with weeping. Thou wouldst that I make my repasts near the fountain of Haran, upon jacob's Well, profound in mysteries, full of living Water, Consolation and Joy; that I seek my delights in thee, O my Saviour, who art the fountain of Water bubbling up to eternal life; Thou wouldst that I feast myself with thy Love, and that I find no Pleasure but in thee. Do this therefore, O blessed Jesus, Take the taste away from me of all the Worldly pleasures, make mine heart to be entirely employed about these, that in embracing thee I may taste a Pleasure that may so fill the capacity of my Soul, as it may cry out in the sense of that sweetness; I am filled, as it were with marrow and fatness.    

CHAP. IU. What may be accounted innocent Pleasure. That Devotion is no disquieting and uneasy thing, nor an Enemy to Pleasure.  
IN the foregoing Chapters I have proved, that the Spirit of Devotion is an Enemy to sensual Pleasures, and not only to those Pleasures, which, 'tis confessed on all hands, are criminal, but to those too that we call innocent ones. In this rank I have placed the continual Divertisements, whereunto the higher part of mankind give 'emselves up. It is time now to explain and unfold a question, which may be started here, To know, whether it be necessary to renousce all sort of Pleasure to be Christianly and truly pious? Now in one word the answer cannot be returned, it being one of the most nice and delicate matters in Christian Morality.  
I say therefore, first of all, That Devotion is no Enemy to Joy, it suffers us to distinguish betwixt innocent and sinful Pleasures; it is neither fierce nor brutish: It ought to be courteous, civil, sweet, and modest: It flies softness, nor does it invest itself with flowers, yet it affects not to appear beset with Thorns nor habilimented with Prickles. In short, 'tis not necessary, That a faithful person, to be sincerely devout, should nourish, in himself, a pensive and lumpish melancholy: On the contrary, Piety is all gay and free: The Heart of the righteous man is a continual Feast. Our Lord Jesus would not have us affect a gloomy Visage, or an abased Air; he commands us even when we fast and are mortifying ourselves to anoint our Heads when we must be seen by men, that we may avoid Ostentation in our Piety.  
To know what are innocent Pleasures, we are to dis●nguish with exactness; and make a short but general Review over all sorts of Pleasures.  
First, all the Pleasures are either of the Mind, or of the Senses: Among the Senses some are more visible y, to matter, others are more disengaged from them. Of the first order are the Taste and Touch: Of the latter, he Sight and Hearing. The more spiritual the Pleasures are, the more easy it is to render them innocent: The more material they are, the more common they are to ●s with Beasts, and the more easy do they become out and sinful. The Pleasures of touching and ta●ing are such: they are common to us with beasts. If ●ee look upon them in themselves, they are unworthy 〈◊〉 man; and if they be in the least degree ex●ffive, we may say they become brutal. Nevertheis it's certain, that these Pleasures, for that they are ecessary, are innocent in some degrees. There are inparable Pleasures, and actions necessary for the conservation of Life; these Actions are eating drinking, and sleeping. These Pleasures cannot be enemies to Piety, and Virtue. God is the Author of them; he has put certain Relations between us and their Objects; he hath joined Pleasure to certain Actions, that we might love to do them, and, without perplexity, work what is necessary to our Conservation. We 〈◊〉 but judge that Honey is sweet and Gall bitter: we cannot but find Pleasure in the use of a good eatable, and feel a sort of pain in eating any thing that is an Enemy to our Taste. 'Tis impossible but we must have a great pleasure in drinking, after having suffered a long thirst. This is not what I call the use of worldly Pleasures: for their use is voluntary, but it is not so here. Now the Christian Dispensation, as severe as it is, cannot accuse of sin unvoluntary Sentiments. We cannot separate this Sentiment of Pleasure from Actions that conce●● life; And if one could, we are not obliged to do it Jesus Christ does not command us to steep all our mea● in Gall, and mingle our drink with Wormwood. 〈◊〉 there be devout Persons in the World that make the Virtue to consist in a privation of those necessary Pleasures, and that say, O God, grant me not to taste any Pleasure in the use of Worldly things, they are hypocrites, and have got the maggot of Superstitution in their heads. B●● let us take heed, this being a very slippery place. Th● bounds that separate Innocence from Sin are so delican● as they are almost unperceivable: we pass from one 〈◊〉 to the other without minding it. The point of separation is that which distinguishes necessary from superstitious. To find Pleasure in eating, is innocent: To 〈◊〉 for the sake of Pleasure, is sinful: we are to take no● rishment as we do Remedies, for necessity only; 〈◊〉 this, in the way of the World, cannot be subject to 〈◊〉 although Pleasure casts its self a cross. But we cannot ●ward● herein without danger. There is nothing so well thou● as what St. Austin says upon this occasion. When I pass from the uneasiness and trouble of hunger to the comfort that eating affords me, this passage is straightened with Ambushes by my concupiscence. For it is accompanied with Pleasare, and there is no other way whereby we can pass to arrive at that comfort, which necessity obliges us to seek. And ●●ugh the maintenance of life be the only thing that for●s us to eat and drink; this dangerous Pleasure comes 〈◊〉 art the way, and appears as a servant at the board. But ●quently it endeavours to march before, with an intent to 〈◊〉 me to do for it, what I had designed to do only for necessity. And that which serves to deceive us in this, is, that necessity has not the same extent as Pleasure hath; there being oftentimes enough for necessity, when there is but a little for Pleasure. We are also frequently uncertain, whether it be the need that we have to sustain life that conveys us to eating, or whether it be the enchanting deceit of Pleasure which hurries us away. Our unfortunate soul pleases itself with this uncertainty, and strives to find out excuses to defend its self.  
The sight and hearing, do they furnish us with pleasures more pure and less carnal? Brutes are not acquainted with them: they are peculiar to men: If beasts find pleasure in the sight of certain objects, it's always in relation to tasting and touching; whereof alone they are sensible. Nevertheless it is certain that among the Pleasures to the Eye and Ear, there are many sinful ones: and they are those, which have a particular and near alliance with the corruption of our heart and mind, and are capable of awakening this Corruption. Of this order are obscene Pourtraits and Figures, lascivious Discourses, the sights of Theatres, Beauties, loaden with borrowed Ornaments, accompanied with Gestures, Actions and Speeches, proper to inflame lust; when we use those pleasures we always abuse the Senses; for this use of them is unlawful. But among the Pleasures of seeing and hearing we may find innocent ones, and these are almost those only which come from the hand of God, without passing through the hands of Men; for man hath this unhappiness, that he leaves the traces of his Corruption in what ever he handles. There can be no sin in looking with Pleasure and Admiration upon the Beauty of the Heavens, their Order, their Movement, their Light; upon pleasant Landscapes, green Meadows, the delightsom obscurity of a Forest, or a River, that creeps between two Mountains. No fault is to be found with the Pleasure of a murmuring Stream, nor in the innocent Music of a Multitude of Birds, that are rejoicing at the return of the Spring. None of these Pleasures disturb or disquiet the Soul: sweet, and not at all violent are their Impressions: They are not capable of carrying the Soul from without its self: and therefore they are well enough beloved by Piety. These natural and pure Ideas may excite motions of Admiration for the great Creator, and Acknowledgement for their Author, and consequently they may inspire Devotion for the Deity.  
Other bodily Pleasures there are, which I can't well refer to any of the Senses: and therefore we'll call them Pleasures of Imagination. Of this order is the Pleasure of having fine Houses, rich Furniture, magnificent Apparel, a great Train, and of having our estate preyed upon by a vast number of People: these Pleasures are not without crime, seeing they are not without error: these are pleasures of Imagination, and therefore they have delusion in them; and if delusion, than Vanity; and if Vanity, then Sin. Wherefore the wise man cries out upon all this, Vanity of Vanities. But there is more than Imposture herein, we find Pride likewise. The pleasure we take from this vain Pomp, Luxury, and Magnificence, proceeds from a desire we have to be Great, and a pleasure we take to appear so. We are very prone to deceive Men, and we try to deceive ourselves. We are like those Dwarves, that affect to set themselves on high places, that they may appear the taller. And therefore men who have less of merit and true greatness, are ordinarily the most enamoured of these false Grandeurs. There are some Conditions indeed, from which Magnificence is almost inseparable: God, who has invested Kings with their Authority, doth not think it ill, they should be invested with Purple: and it is highly necessary that they should be surrounded with a splendour to surprise the sense, so as more easily to obtain that veneration from the heart which is due to them. This is an ordinary Illusion of the Senses, which makes us consider how great that is which dazzles them: but it is an Illusion, which, in this case, is of some use. Where there is the true greatness of Quality, and Authority, an apparent grandeur may be endured; although by excess there may be Sin here as well as elsewhere. Great men resemble those Giants, who were not content with their natural greatness, but lifted their hands up towards Heaven to be seen afar off. Above all, this is a senseless pleasure, when one is little in all respects, to please himself with appearing Great, and debasing the Purple to the Dust, which should not appear but upon or near the Throne. This is a vice of our Age, wherein I believe, we surpass all other Ages: and the corruption is gone so far, that it is made a duty to follow it. For some wise and pious Persons there are, who propose this dangerous maxim with a great deal of Confidence: That there ought no difference to be made; that every one should be apparelled according to his condition; that we are not to affect Singularity. In a word, they boldly blame those Women, who professing a great Devotion wear no other than very mean , at a mighty distance from the Luxury of Persons of their Rank. A very strange thing this, that we should be so far removed from Piety, and have so much fear of approaching it, as to fly even the Appearances thereof? According to this Maxim 'tis held, that Christian Women be clothed with the most rich and magnificent Stuffs, that they be covered with Gold and precious Stones, since all Persons of quality go so. If they retrench themselves of these Vanities to do Alms, they are accused of being Devoto's. The mischief, it seems, is without remedy, when't comes to this. The Church once believed, it did infinitely relax its self, when it tolerated these Disorders; but I am afraid it must shortly come to give them its Approbation. I would fain know of these People that maintain this Maxim, in what place they might find it? It is not in the holy Scripture; for St. Paul expressly forbids Christian Women the use of Gold and broidered hair. It is not in the Fathers; for they never speak with more vigour than when they speak against the luxury and pomp of Apparel: they call it the Pomp of the Devil. In all places they preach against this Vanity, and say that, by the Laws of Charity, we are obliged to renounce these superfluities, to  the Poor, to comfort the Miserable, to uphold the Church when it staggers, or is in a low condition. They say that Simplicity and Plainness of Array is a sign of Piety and renouncing the World.  
But what is meant, when they say, we must make no distinction? must we be carried away by the stream because it is a general and common evil? must not we labour to guard ourselves from it? must no one dare to get out of the crowd of those that destroy themselves? for my part, I believe quite contrary, we ought to separate ourselves, if we have courage enough to do it. I would know, whether that sovereign Moderation be not as good in Clothes as in other things: if it be good can it be evil to give examples of it? on the other side, is it not glorious to march the first in the way of Virtue? Apparel, I know, has been always different according to the diversity of conditions. But first we are to observe, that in our age there are no People but carry a Magnificenee infinitely above their Condition. Now it hath always been accounted glorious to a man to do what he ought, according to the Estate wherein he is, when he his only to do his Duty. Moreover, Men did not heretofore distinguish their Condition so exactly as they do now adays: The difference of Conditions, must have been extremely sensible and great, if it were permitted 'em to distinguish themselves from others by Magnificence. It was not sufficient to be rich only, or of a Birth a little elevated above the common people. And now if it be permitted to every one to be clothed and have a Retinue according to his Condition, Pride and Vanity, that mark the bounds which distinguish conditions, will push men on to strange excesses. 'Tis also good to consider, that there's a great difference betwixt tolerating a thing as permitted, and authorising it as necessary. Great Men may be suffered to distinguish themselves from others by their Train, Equipage, and Habit, provided this does not go to the Excess that reigns in our Age: But never ought we to make this their Duty, nor to say to them, be not particular from the rest of your Rank. On the contrary, we are to let them know, that it is glorious to them to renounce these unhappy Vanities, which are displeasing to God. In short, certain it is, that never was this Maxim more dangerous than in our Age, the keeping up one's Quality, in the style of the World: that is, to expend one's whole estate in Vanities, Habits, Ornaments, Equipages, and in things of that nature. When therefore any one says to a Gentleman, be not singular, do as other persons of your Quality, he certainly authorises this unhappy prodigality, which puts people out of a Condition to be liberal towards the maintenance of the Church. So that men may say what they will, but I will never believe that any one is endued with perfect Devotion, as long as I see him environed with the vain pomp of the World. One cannot have a true Devotion, unless he is truly humble. Now this reason why we should make such unprofitable Expenses to maintain our quality in the World, draws its rise from Pride. The true Christian considering himself in himself and with regard had to God, knows he is nought but Dust and Ashes, and nothing before God: He is not ignorant that God hath no respect of Persons, nor is acquainted with these differences of Conditions. Thus each truly devout Soul will, without doubt, renounce all those excessive Ornaments, and spare all those superfluous expenses to do good works withal.  
In short, we are not to persuade ourselves, that this Instruction which is really that of Christ himself, brings us into a Path, that leads us to Superstition; and that pious Persons are obliged to apparel themselves after a base and extravagant manner. 'Tis in this respect, we may say, that we are to affect nothing. But there is a vast distance between the magnificence of this Age and those  that render men ridiculous. I could not refuse this small Digression to combat the corruption of the age, in favour to many upright Souls, that desire to do their Duty, but know not to what their Duty ties them. And now I return to the Pleasures of Imagination, whereof I began to speak.  
Among these pleasures of the Imagination, some we find innocent. A man, for example, may, without sin, take a great pleasure in the cultivating a little land: His house is to him the most stately Palace, and Garden as good as the finest in the World. He will divert himself perfectly, in framing and setting right his little Parterres, his Palisado's, his hedge-rows of Fruit and his dwarfish Trees. He will gather the fruit with more acknowledgement to God's goodness than Monarches would have in taking Tributes, from all the Earth. A Father of a Family rejoices at the good conduct of his House; a Woman at her work; an Artificer at the success of his labour. Is there not real happiness in all this? These are pleasures of Imagination, but not of a foolish one, which feeds its self with Impostures; but, one that is conducted by reason, clarified by Grace; and judges that we ought to esteem more what we have, than all which we have not. These pleasures, and these innocent errors, if I may call them so, are not altogether enemies to the Spirit of Devotion.  
Lastly, there are pleasures of the mind, amongst which it is easier to find Innocence: honest and civil Conversations, reading of good Books, eloquent Discourses, the study of good Sciences and works of Wit may afford these Pleasures. But many cautions are to be used herein. First, we must take care lest we confound the Wit with its impurity. Oftentimes we think we find Pleasure in a Piece, because it has Wit, and this is only, because it has Impurity▪ There are certain Poductions of Wit, that flatter our Passions: Of this nature are the Composures of the Theatre, the sables of Romances, and that which they call gallant Prose and Verse. We admire there the delicacy of Expression, the Beauty of Thought, and the Strength of Imagination. Look a little nearer, and you will see, that the heart is incomparably more touched than the Mind. These Productions we love, because they have a secret Alliance with the Corruption of our Hearts, and a conformity to the Impressions of our vitiated Imagination. The Pleasure that we find therein, comes chief from the impurity, which is so nicely and delicately displayed. There are some objects, whose Turpitude is so great, as at the first blush we dread them: When they are shown us all naked, we cannot endure the sight; nevertheless we are willing enough to take a view of them, if they be covered with a thin Veil which hides their Uncleanness from the Senses, and yet lets it be wholly seen by the Imagination, which applies its self to these Objects with an extreme Delight: This is the Character of those Works, whereof we speak. We are to take care also, that among the innocent Pleasures, we do not taste that which Springs from sinful, curious, and visibly vain Sciences, of no more manner of use, and that only serve to fill up the Mind's Capacity and an Emptiness of all good things. In a word, if it be permitted to taste Pleasure in the study of good Sciences, and useful and innocent Knowledges, at least we ought to have a care we be not wholly taken up by them. Nothing can be innocent that becomes to us an obstacle of Piety.  
This is sufficient me thinks, to show, that Devotion has not declared War to Pleasure and Joy: In making a wise and prudent choice of such Pleasures, we may find them sufficient to sweeten the bitterness of Life; so as there will be no need of burying ourselves alive: and keeping the Soul constantly mourning and wailing, and clothing it in a black and dismal melancholy.  

Meditation.  
HOw much indebted am I to my God. What shall I render unto him for his loving kindness, who hath made me to be placed in the midst of so many good things, and left me the Enjoyment of them? I should have had no cause to complain if he had torn me out of this World to throw me into Hell. Was it not in his freewill also, to make even this World here to become an Hell to me, that I might be saved in the other World? I could not blame his Wisdom nor his Justice, though he had put me here to continual torments; Tho he had locked up from me all the sources of these Pleasures; though he made all my good Days so many darksome Nights. He might have left me Eyes only to pour forth Tears; Ears to hear only the sound of Thunder and the Voice of his Judgement; Taste, only for the bitterness of Gall and Wormwood; Touching, only to feel the weight of his Blows. He might have mingled Gall in all my repasts, empoisoned all objects, and (that I may so speak) invested them with Thorns, to pierce me as they came near me. If he had done this, I must have said, He is Just, and I am a Sinner: it is reasonable, that this World being sullied by my Sins should be the Theatre of my Punishments; and that the Object of my Senses, upon which my Corruption hath displayed its self, become the Avengers of my Crimes. But all on the other side, God, who commands me to be sober, wise, temperate, moderate, to renounce the vain Pleasures of the Flesh and World leaves me still, for all this, more Pleasures than I deserve: He leaves me enough to temper, and to render the sad consequences of sin supportable. True it is, he smites me sometimes; and makes me to see his angry Countenance. I am subject to maladies: I may become weak and feeble; I may lose what he has given me of good things; my honours may be taken away from me; I may be persecuted. But when I reckon my ill and compare them with my good days, I find, that these are in a greater number than them. My Pleasures do infinitely surmount my Pains: If I recollect my sicknesses and my hours of trouble, perhaps they may arise to some Months, or almost to some years: But how many years of Prosperity hath my God granted me? Wretched and ungrateful, as I am, A little pain in my Finger hinders me from being sensible of the whole body's health: one hour of perplexity envenoms my whole life, and makes me forget all my Prosperities and all the Obligations I have to my God. But though my misfortunes were very long and pursuing, they would not be still so long as my life, and by consequence, not have so long duration as my sins: and therefore I should have no reason to complain to, but rather to bless and praise my God. For if I am unhappy a few years, I am a sinner from the very first moment of my Life. So that if the moments of my Afflictions were to pass in account before God, and to satisfy his Justice for so many moments marked by my sins; Alas, my Soul! how much wouldst thou still own to the Divine Justice, since the number of thy Calamities does not come near the number of thy Offences. The moments, wherein God hath made me to enjoy most of his Blessings, have been those, wherein I have rendered myself the most sinful by the abuse of my Prosperity: And the least sin I committed in one of those moments, deserves pains of an infinite duration.   

Prayer.  
ALmighty God, who makest all things with a profound Wisdom, I find nothing to say against thy Works. All that thou hast made is good: But I mourn for my Iniquity, and bewail my Corruption. Good is in the neighbourhood of Evil; and the things which are permitted me are so near to those that are forbidden me, that if I forget innocent Pleasures but a little, I strait pass into sinful ones. At all passages the Devil lies in Ambush, and my Concupiscence lays snares for me every where; Narrow is the way, and borders on precipices. I know, Lord, that thy goodness is infinite, and thou dost not exact from me that I should be evermore in Grief; thou allowest some grains to the Fesh, as rebellious as 'tis against thee. But how difficult and dargerous is it to mark out precisely the Bounds that distinguish permitted from forbidden Pleasures. If I give ear to my Concupiscence, it will stretch the limits far beyond all Reason: it will endeavour to persuade me, that whatsoever is agreeable cannot be bad; whether I eat or drink, am asleep or awake, am idle or at work, I am always in the Temptation and Danger of falling into Excess. Thy Providence willeth that I pass through all these Dangers: Thou alone art able to conduct me safely through this difficult Path: Let thy Spirit lead me as in an even Plain; Let me turn neither to the right nor to the left. Here are two Extremities to fly; thou hatest carnal Pleasures, but it may be thou dost not love excessive Austerities. Bodily Exercise profiteth little, but Godliness has the promises of this Life and of that which is to come. I know, O my God, that 'tis much more dangerous to fall into one Excess than into the other. All thou sayest of bodily Exercise is, That it is profitable but to a few things: but as to the other excess, to wit, of Pleasures, it hurts and incommodes all things; it makes havoc of the Conscience, it corrupts the Heart, ruins the Body, grieves the Holy Spirit, and it separates the Soul from thee, O Lord. 'Tis incomparably more safe to renounce all Pleasures in general than to choose some, and expose one's self to the danger of taking those that are unlawful. O thou, who holdest in thine hands the Heart of Men as the Rivers of Water, turn mine into the safest way, wherein I am certain not to offend thee; and that is the privation of all sensual Pleasures. Take from me that taste of all Voluptuousness, wherewith I am enchanted. Cast off from the Daemon of Pleasure, that Mask which covers him, and that fading Beauty which charms me; that I may see all his ugliness and Deformity, and detest and fly it. Since the Body, which thou obligest me to hale after me, to nourish and conserve, binds me to do Actions conjoined with Pleasure, give me the Grace to do those Actions to satisfy Necessity, and not to serve Sensuality. Discover to me the Snares that Lust lays for me under the Cloak of Necessity. Let me not by an ill habit, make that necessary which is superfluous according to the Laws of Nature and Reason; that my Soul under thy guidance may keep its Body under as a Slave, and not serve it as its Master.    

CHAP. V That we are not to consult our Heart and Senses in the choice of Pleasures: That Devotion leads us to true Pleasure.  
'TIS observed, that for the obtaining any thing we must ask much more than we have a mind to get; and that to bring men to just Sentiments in withdrawing them from their Errors, it is good to carry them a little into the other Extremity, that in their return they may abide at least in a reasonable middle. This perhaps has made so many Christian Authors and Preachers to imitate the style of the Stoics upon the Nature of Pleasure and Pain. These People say, that Pain is no evil; and Pleasure is not a Good: We can say, they be perfectly happy in the burning Bull of Phalar is, and perfectly unhappy in tasting the greatest Pleasures. This method is not, it may be, so good, as we imagine: We soil and dishearten men's Minds by requiring too much of them; and nothing is persuasive, when Truth is invested with Paradoxes, which awaketh curiosity, but distemper the Mind. After all, we can never persuade men to the contrary to what they feel. Cicero tells us of one of these Philosophers, who had been blinded by the pompous reasonings of his Sect; But a great Rheum falling upon his Eyes, which put him to horrible Tortures, prevailed over the Illusions of his Philosophy, and made him abandon it. When we see one of these Sages cruelly tormented upon his Bed with the Gout or Stone; and hear him say, Thou mayst do as thou wilt, O Pain, but thou shalt never make me confess, thou art an evil, we cannot keep ourselves from looking upon this as a Comedy and profound Hypocrisy: Reason can do nought against Experience, nor against a Sense so lively as that of pain. The Martyrs, I conceive might be happy amidst their punishments, because they did not feel all their Pains. For I hold that their Soul by the help of Grace was so strongly taken up with the Glory and Crown they were about to receive, that hardly any Room remained to them for other Sentiments. The Patience of the Faithful in their Calamities arises, in my Opinion, from no other cause, than that their Souls being fixed wholly upon God, and his Heaven the Object of their Hope, do partly unite 'emselves from the Body, and give less Heed or Attention to its Annoyances: Impatience, on the other side, is a motion of the Soul, which turns itself wholly to the Body, to be abandoned to pain, and to feel all its racks. So that I conclude, Pain is an Evil: Which is to confess bodily Pleasure is a good. 'Twas my belief, I owed this Confession to them, whom we would prevail withal to renounce sensual and fleshly Pleasures, that by this sincerity and plain dealing, we may render them more attentive to our Reasons.  
We do not entreat them to renounce bodily. Pleasure as an evil in its self, but as a petty and small good, that brings along after it, in its train, an incredible Multitude of mischiefs; and as a good, which is unworthy of Man born for the most noble Pleasures, and destined to the possession of the greatest Goods. What ever we do we can never rivit out of the Mind of man this Opinion; that Happiness consists in Pleasure. I will not oppose this Maxim: The chiefest beatitude consists, without doubt, in the Possession of the chiefest Good, and in this Possession the Soul tastes its chief Pleasure. And if we please, we may call this chief Pleasure the chief Happiness of man. But men are terribly chowsed herein: They are persuaded, that the Soul is not capable of any true Pleasure, without it be what comes from the Body. Among men generally, a spiritual pleasure and a chimerical pleasure are all one. All those who make their felicity to consist in Contemplation and in Actions entirely removed from those, which make up carnal pleasure, pass in the World for visionary wights; this Error springs from the Heart and Senses: And therefore I say, that in the Judgement we ought to have of pleasures, and in the choice we ought to make thereof, we are not to consult either our Senses or our Heart. This mistake, I say, is caused by the Heart and Senses; because they believe nothing agreeable, but what is agreeable to them. We judge things good or evil only according to the relation they have to the Faculties, whereunto they raise either pleasure or Pain: And therefore the Heart and Senses which are corporeal cannot be touched by spiritual things: They judge these cannot be agreeable, because they are sensible of no Pleasure in them: Just as a blind man, if he would judge according to the report of his Senses, undoubtedly he would judge, that there are no colours; or if there were, they could not make any Impression upon his Senses. This is then an Imposture which we must lay open and disperse.  
First of all, we ought to remember, that Man is made up of two parts, the Soul and Body: Each of these parts hath its separate and distinct Goods. The Goods of the Mind are spiritual, and those of the Body necessarily corporeal. Of these two parts the Soul is infinitely the more excellent. From this, Man is properly denominated, and the Body is but a Retainer to him; so that consequently, the Goods and Pleasures which belong to the Soul by its self, are infinitely greater than those which come by the interposition of the Body. Lastly, 'tis very easy to comprehend why the Senses and the Heart indge otherwise: These being bodily Faculties, we need not wonder they hold clearly for bodily things. As for the Senses, this is without dispute, they are corporeal, both in their Organs and in their Operations: they perceive only the Superficies of Bodies. This is no less true of the Heart, it is corporeal too; for I understand by the Heart, the seat of the Passions, and the Imagination: 'tis very evident, that both these Faculties are bodily Faculties. For the Imagination is the feat wherein are represented those Images that come from the Senses and offer themselves to our Mind in the absence of Objects. The Passions also are corporeal, because they are form by Mechanical Movements: This is manifest by those Characters they impress upon the Body, as the motion of the Blood, quick, slow, or precipitate; Paleness or Ruddiness of Complexion; the Fire and languishing, which they impress upon the eyes. The Senses and Heart, which are corporeal, being the Gates whereat Objects do enter and accost the mind, bring nothing to it but bodily Images, and raise in it only sensual Pleasures; and the Soul hereby gets an habit of believing there are no other Pleasures besides these, since it does not endeavour to disengage itself from the Body, and to taste others. But can it be possible we should be such enemies to ourselves, and so irrational, as to believe our Senses touching a thing of so great Importance? The Senses are unable to know the thousandth part of Bodies. As soon as ever a Body ceases to have a considerable Extension, we cease to see and feel it; and would we make these very Senses to be judges of things absolutely Spiritual? Certainly, the Soul is very unhappy and very much a Slave, if it cannot taste that Pleasure which is its sovereign Felicity, but it must be beholden to the Body for it. If Matter be the Spring of true Pleasure, what do those Souls do, I wonder, that are separated from Matter? what must be the Beatitude of Angels, that have no Body? Is it not true, that their Pleasures ought to be as far above ours, as Minds are above Matter? Assuredly, spiritual Pleasures spring from the knowledge of Truth, from the practice of Virtue, from our union with God by the ties of Love, and from that Action, whereby God unites himself immediately to our Soul. All this is entirely above the Senses: they are not acquainted with Truth; for their Office is to report the Appearances of Bodies: They cannot judge of Virtue; it is not under their Jurisdiction: much less can they judge of that Union betwixt God and the Soul. And yet, although they make no report to us about any of these things, we are not nevertheless to doubt of the real Impressions they make upon our Souls.  
But, from whence comes it, say some, that spiritual Pleasures are not so touching and make not such strong Impressions upon the Soul, as bodily ones do? For you see not, say they, your devout People in those Transports of Joy and Pleasure, as we see men have in the enjoyment of Sensual Pleasures. Is not this a proof that those intellectual pleasures are merely imaginary, or at least that they are very weak and languishing. This difficulty arises from that men know not how to distinguish the Soul from the body: they believe it is concerned in proportion to the greatness of the agitations of the Bodily Organs: They are persuaded, that it cannot receive an impression of Joy, but by the interposal of these great corporeal motions. But the thing is far otherwise: 'tis certain, that in the great Pleasures, which the Soul receives from the Body, the great corporeal Agitations re'ncounter one another, and it receives not those pleasures but by favour of these agitations, and because the Blood and Spirits are in a great heat and ferment: But the Pleasures of holy Persons, which are locked up in the Soul itself, and which exert no external Characters, do not fail to make very powerful Impression. These Pleasures are so great and so touching, that they carry the Soul out of the World: And the Joy, which springs from the possession of God, from the Knowledge of his Truth, and the imitation of his Virtues and Attributes, must needs infinitely transcend all the pleasures of the Body: Since that for these spiritual pleasures, we not only renounce bodily ones, but also expose ourselves to all, even the most sensible pains. True it is, the more the Soul is accustomed to let its self be moved by the Agitations, which do cause corporeal Pleasures and Passions, the more is it uncapable of tasting Internal joys and spiritual Pleasures. And this is one of the greatest mischiefs that spring from the continual use of sensuality: the Soul waxeth fat, as the holy Ghost speaketh: the heart of the Wicked is fat as grease; he hath profaned the Rock of his Salvation. It covers its self, as it were, with flesh and blood, and tastes nothing, but what flatters this Flesh and Blood. And therefore among sensual Pleasures, there are permitted our Devout Person only those which are moderate. The Senses love to receive strong impressions of Objects, provided there be no wound in the case; the imagination loves also to be powerfully moved: But all these emotions make such mighty impressions upon the Soul, as it hardly can come to itself again: And therefore they ought carefully to be avoided.  
But if we would have more sensible proofs, that the heart, the passions and the senses are not to be consulted about the choice of Pleasures; let us hear experience, and cast an eye upon the disorders of the world. Such are, the consequences of this blindness in men, who follow their own heart and senses in the choice of Goods and Pleasures. Why did the first Woman lay hold on the forbidden fruit? because it was good and pleasant to the eye, she harkened to her Heart and Senses. How did corruption arise to that high pitch in the World, that it forced God's Justice to bring upon it a terrible Deiuge? Because the Sons of God saw the Daughters of men that they were fair: they stopped their Ears to the voice of God, which called upon them; they hearkened to the solicitations of their own sensual heart: they took them Wives, of all which they chose, and corrupted themselves with them. Did not David commit Adultery and Murder in a little time, because he gave ear to his senses and heart, and let his passions seduce him? did not Solomon become an Idolater, because his sinful love for Women having blinded his eyes, separated him from God, and stopped the Ears of his Soul: so as his mind heard only the voice of his Passions and his Senses? Lastly, did not St. Peter deny his Lord and Master; for that his heart, his senses, his imagination made him see present Death in an affrightful posture, and he consulted neither God nor his own reason?  
We seem here to blend and confound Innocence with Sin, in speaking of our Heart and our Senses, as common Sources of our errors: Since that the Senses may seem rather to be unhappy and unfortunate than Criminal and Sinful. True, the Senses are subject to two unhappinesses. The first is to be forced to receive Objects which are sinful, and capable of transferring Images of corruption to the Heart; such are evil Examples, scandalous Actions and Words. The other misfortune of the Senses is, that they take in innocent Objects, and sometimes in an innocent manner; and these Images do spoil and corrupt themselves in the Heart. Nevertheless, I think we ought not to separate the Senses from the Heart, they make but one and the same thing. This is a Match at the end of which lies a great heap of Gunpowder. The Hear and the Imagination are the inward extremity of this Match; they are the Magazine of Powder: The Senses are the other end, to which the Objects set fire. This Fire slides, or rather it flies along the Match: It enkindles the Imagination, and puts the Heart into a flame: And therefore the holy Spirit puts for the same thing, To walk in the ways of one's heart, and in the sight of ones Eyes.  
In short, if we would be perfectly assured that our Heart and Senses are evil Counsellors in this affair, hear what the holy Scripture saith; it considers our Heart as the root of all our Evils. Every imagination of the thoughts of Man's heart is only evil continually. The Heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it? Out of the Heart proceed evil Thoughts, Murders, Adulteries, Fornications, Thefts, false Witness, Blasphemies: These are the things which defile a Man. The holy Ghost represents the Heart to us, as blind, wrapped up in a thick Cloud and profound darkness: it speaks of it, as of a kind of Death, it is of the Earth, it is carnal. How then canan Heart thus composed and framed judge of the true Goods and Pleasures? How can there come any thing good from a poisoned Spring. And thus we see that the Wife man puts this Maxim among the members of those we are to detest and abominate, Walk in the ways of thine Heart and in the sight of thine Eyes.  
I should end here, were it unnecessary to take off one Scandal that may be taken at what we have said, that sensual Pleasure is a Good, and even a Good for the Soul: For, in a word, if the Soul, be that not only which perceives, and which tastes Pleasure, and if Pleasure be a Good, 'tis a Good of the Soul. If it be a good, than some will say, we are to seek and love it. It's not sufficient to answer that this is a Good of the Body only, that is not absolutely true: 'tis, in some sort the good of the Soul, because the Soul tastes it. Further, if this Good were only for the Body, yet it does not follow, it should therefore be of necessity unlawful; since we are not always forbidden to seek the Good of the Body. But we ought not only to consider a thing in its self, to know whether it be good or bad; we must consider it in its causes and its effects, in what precedes it, what may be the consequence of it. I mean, that the Pleasure which comes to the Soul by the Body, is a sort of Good considered in itself. Look upon its Source, and see to what it produces. The Source is Sin, is Impurity, is Rebellion against the law of our Creator. What it produces is a disunion between God and our Soul: 'tis a pawning ourselves to Death, 'tis the pain of everlasting burn. How can we under the Idea of a Good conceive a thing which is encompassed about by so many moral Impurities and such real Mischiefs? If therefore, bodily Pleasure can be called a Good with respect to the present sentiment of the Soul, it's an Evil in all other regards; it's an Evil to speak Absolutely: and therefore the wifest men of all Ages, have placed it among the false Goods: for a true Good aught to be good on every side we view it.  
The Soul than has no true Pleasure but what arises from its union with God. And this union is fortified according to the measure that we loosen ourselves from sensible things, and are united to God by the knowledge of his Truth: Not of those Verities which Philosophy seeks after, and never finds with any certainty, but of those Divine truths which Faith discovers to us of those wholesome Verities, which are the Candle of the Soul. Thy Word is a Lamp to my Feet, and a light to my Paths. It enlightens the Eyes and makes wise the simple. The second Bond, whereby we are united to God, is Virtue; the Practice of which renders us like to our Creator; renews his Image in us, and makes us to be the Copies of that Beauty whereof he's the original. the third cord is the love, with which we love God, and that by which we are beloved of him. By this Love he is in us, and we are in him; because Love makes a transfusion of Hearts, and the Soul is more in the Subject, which it loves, than in that which it animates. As to the pleasures which spring from this union, it is of the number of those things, which cannot be conceived without they be felt. 'Tis such, that all the Pleasures of the World appear unsavoury, to them that taste it. 'Tis so great as it hath often made the Saints to fall down, who have been extraordinarily touched with its holy Ecstasies and Ravishments, which seemed to have entirely broke the Alliance betwixt the Body and the Soul. Now without question it is, that Devotion contributes and leads to this Pleasure. It diminishes our union with sensual things; disunites us from our Body; lifts us up to God; purifies our Souls in drawing nigh to him; makes them partake of the Beams of that great Sun of righteousness; and renders them as so many little Gods, by communicating with the Glory of our great God.  

Meditation.  
NO wonder thou seekest Pleasure, O my Soul: thou seekest thy Good; thou seekest what thou hast lost, thou seekest what was given thee, what thou once hadst, and what thou shouldest have still, hadst thou continued innocent. Thy God created thee righteous and holy: This holiness was the bond of his union with thee: thou wert separated from him, when thou becamest sinful, and through this separation thou hast continued void and deprived of Pleasure and Happiness. Every where thou seekest the Good thou hast lost: but blind as thou art, thou catchest at Shadows for real Bodies. Thou wanderest upon different Objects, and if thou findest any one that flatters thee, straightway thou embracest it with ardour, as if thou hadst found that which thou hast lost, and seekest for. Thou disabusest thyself in a little time, but it is to fall into an other Error: After having tasted bodily Pleasure, thou perceivest that this is not the infinite Pleasure thou searchest after. This Object being quitted, thou dost cast thyself upon another: thou Embracest this too, and every day thou delightest to be fed with new and new Illusions. Leave off, O my heart, leave off rambling and running after these Phantoms: Be not decieved by thy Senses and Imagination. Embrace thy God; 'tis to him alone thou owest this general Inclination, which makes thee to love Felicity and Pleasure: but thy blinded Eyes make thee love false Gods, and fix themselves upon false Pleasures. If thou wert not profoundly blind thou couldst not doubt that God is infinite, that he is infinitely good, and infinitely better than all the Creatures. Thou couldst not also doubt but the pleasure which comes from Union with him and the Possession of him, is infinitely greater than all the Pleasures of the World besides. If the created Goods be so sweet, how agreeable must the increated Good be? The Good which is the Creator of all Goods? the Good which comprehends the pleasure of all other Goods? the Good which displays those Delights in our Hearts, that are as far above all Pleasures, as he himself is eminent above all Goods? Herein thou art incredulous, O my Soul, because thou hast not relished the sweetness, which springs from being united with God: thou canst not believe them, thou sayest with Thomas, Except I should see, except I touch and feel those Delights, I will not believe. Ah! how happy and blessed is he, who has believed before he hath seen, who has overcome all the temptations of the Flesh, and has desired to taste those divine Pleasures before he tasted them. But that Person is incomparably more happy, that hath believed and hath seen, that hath tasted those Delights and felt those Pleasures which surpass all understanding, which spring from the intimate presence of God. If thou hast not yet been able, O my Soul, to feel such spiritual Pleasures, the reason is, thy God could not yet apply himself immediately to thee, because of the Impurity wherewith thou art covered and defiled: ●or his Eyes are pure, they cannot behold Iniquity: he is Purity and Light itself, and thou art enwrapped in a dark Cloud of Ignorance and Unrighteousness. How then could God join himself immediately to thee? Therefore take away thy Veil, this Wall of Separation: cure thy own ignorances'; seek after the Knowledge of thy God and his Mysteries: purify thyself: ●et rid of those ill Habits of Vice which surround thee like a Garment, and thy God will invest thee with a Robe of Light; and ●hen shalt thou perceive, that the applying ●ensible Objects to thy faculties is not capable of raising in thee that Sense of Pleasure which thou mayst receive from God: Then ●ilt thou have a perfect disgust to those vain Pleasures; thou wilt wish to see thy God, 〈◊〉 know him, to embrace him, that thou ●ayst be united to him.   

Prayer.  
O Father of Lights, inexhaustible spring of Pleasure and Joy! insinuate thyself into all the Faculties of my Soul; fill up the emptiness of my desires, and that vast extension of my Heart, and make me to feel that Joy which thou communicatest to thy Saints and Favourites. Unto thee I discover my wants; I confess my Nothing; I languish after thee, my True Good. Without thee, O Lord, I should be the most miserable of all Creatures; I should be plunged into an Abyss of Grief and Despair, I should feel nothing but horror and anguish: Thou comfortest me in this Valley of Tears; thou feedest me with the bread of angels, and makest me drink of thy Pleasures, as out of a River. The World is not acquainted with these delights; the meats of thy Table to it are insipid, it tastes nothing but the fleshpots of Egypt, and knows not what i● the Honey of the Land of Promise. I know it, O my God, but I do not know so as I would, and aught to know. I have learned of thy Saints, that when thou speakest to thy children in their hearts, this Sentiment is sweeter than Honey and the Honeycomb; and that more pleasure is to be found in possessing thee, than the covetous find in having the greatest abundance of Gold and Silver. But alas! my Soul hath not yet felt those divine Transports. I begin to perceive, that earthly Pleasures are uncapable of satisfying that hunger and thirst after pleasure and happiness whereof I labour: but I have not as yet perfectly learned that thou alone art capable of quenching that thirst. Taste and see how gracious the Lord is: I taste thee as I see thee; I see thee but imperfectly, and as in a Glass, I taste thee as covered from me. Over thee indeed are no involving encumbrances, for thou art all pure and single, and whosoever is pure, may taste thee purely: But the veil is in my Flesh, or rather it is my Flesh itself, it is my corruption, that separates me from thee. Come therefore Lord Jesus, come thou creating Spirit, and Creator of Spirits, create in me a new Heart, and renew a right Spirit within me, that my Soul may be filled with thy Delights, and I may taste all the sweetness of thy Love. Thirsty I am after Pleasure; open thy Fountain of eternal Pleasures, and let thy Rivers f●●w into my Soul. Kiss me with the kisses of thy Mouth, for thy Love is better than Wine. Tell me (O thou whom my Soul loveth) where thou makest thy Flocks to rest at noon: For why should I be as one that turneth aside by the ●●●ks of thy companions? Why should my Soul ●ander amidst the vain Pleasures of the World, and why should it bring to thee so many false Goods for companions? Let me retire under thy shadow, embrace, adore, love thee only, and taste no Pleasure but what is in thee. Draw me therefore, that I may run after thee: draw near to me, that I may be able to draw near to thee. Prevent me by thy Grace, by thy Mercy, and by the bowels of thy Compassion, stirred up for a prodigaland rambling Son, who seeks but cannot find thee. Awake, O Northwind, and come thou South, blow upon my Garden, that the Spices thereof may flow out: Let my beloved come into his Garden, and eat his pleasant Fruits. O Holy Spirit, thou Southwind, the Father of Heat, Author of Generation, Source of Love and Charity, blow upon the Powers of my Soul, which are as a Desert, make them an Eden, a Garden of the Almighty; make odoriferous Plants to grow there, produce there Habits and Works of a sweet odour; so as my heavenly Saviour, the beloved of my Soul, may come and taste the sweetness of those Fruits, that he may delight in me, and I in him, and that we may eternally taste all those Pleasures, the products of a mutual Love.    

CHAP. VI That young People have no Privilege to use sensual Pleasures, nor to dispense themselves from Devotion.  
ONE Reflection is still behind, which we are obliged to make before we leave this Important Subject; we having done nothing yet in regard to young People. They persuade 'emselves, it may be, that whatever hath been said does not concern them: it is almost impossible to deliver them from this Error, That Pleasure is peculiarly their share, and that, without Tyranny, we cannot deny it them. To them Indevotion is natural, and they reckon it a particular Honour. We should make fine work of it (say they) to 〈◊〉 Bigots at these years, they fancy that Modesty, Wisdom, Sobriety, and Temperance, are not proper for them; 'tis the business of old Men, say they, we must not make ourselves ridiculous by turning Cato's and Seneca's. And indeed if any one of them has more happy Inclinations, he is ashamed, he dissembles 'em, he follows the Crowd. They tell him, to every thing under the Heaven there is a time. In considering old and young men, we can never believe, say they, that Persons so different are destined to the same Actions: The wrinkled forehead of old Age, the paleness of its Complexion, hollow Eyes, chapfallen Mouth, and Limbs all trembling, have a correspondence with the Duties of Repentance, and it's fit that they pour forth Tears and give themselves up to Mortification. But the good disposition and plumpness of Youth, that flourish of Blood, that displays its self upon the Complexion, lively and sparkling Eyes, Se●ses eager and capable to be touched by their Objects very manifestly show, that this age is born for pleasures and all manner of Joy. Thus it is, they flatter and hug themselves in their security. Not only young People talk at this rate, but most part of mankind agree with them in it. I cannot deny, but that the extravagancies and disorders of conduct in the life of an old man impress much greater marks of infamy, than the debauches of the younger sort. I must confess also, that the disorders of old age discover a greater depth of Corruption. It cannot cast its faults upon the first boilings of the Blood, which hath much filth and scum: It cannot take the default of Experience for excuse, and, in short, it breaks the barriers of a shame much greater than that which follows the crimes of Youth. But nevertheless, God will not judge men according to humane Rules and the Sentiments of the World: there is no Age, that has received a dispensation from obeying God. All the violaters of his Law shall be punished, since his Commandments are given to all; and if so be the difference of Age put a diversity in sins in respect of Punishment, this would only in the upshot go upon the More and the Less: But what will that result to; seeing, in a word, even the less unhappy must have their share in Eternal fires, and the Worm that never dyeth?  
Why should young people be less obliged to Devotion? Has God given them less? On the contrary, they, as well as old men, have received of God their Being and Reason: but farther, they have vigour of Body, force of Wit, Health, Youth, and the flower of Age. Assuredly, these are particular Obligations to devote themselves to God All these advantages they have not received to consecrate them to the Devil of Lust and Voluptuousness. Is any thing too good for God? They design for him a tattered body, ' putrified Lungs, gloomy Eyes, and dry Members. In truth, God will be mightily obliged to them: they would give him the bottom Lees of their years, and consecrate to him that Age which is the sink of Life, and the Centre of all Miseries: that is to say, they would give him, what the World has cast off: they act like covetous men, who are only liberal when they are dying: they give what they can retain no more. Believe me, all the very best we have is not go good for our God. Heretofore he would not have victim that had any fault, that were ill or in no good case, or that had lost any part of the Body. Do we believe he will be pleased to accept the Sacrifices of a spent and wasted heart, and a man, who is only the shadow of what he was once? ●exhort you, that ye present your Bodies a living Sacrifice. But young People, that take up the resolution of being devout, when they can be no longer sinners, promise God their dead and (as it were corrupted) Bodies: for in old age, Bodies are like Phantoms, and come near to the nature of Carcases. God has thought nothing too good for us; he has given himself for us; he who is the sovereign good, has given us his Son: he devoted him to death for us in the flower of his age; and it is just that we be devoted to his service in all our Ages.  
God is not satisfied with these promises of futurity, I will give thee. He would have us speak in the present tense, I do give thee; as he does himself in speaking to us, I give you my Peace. He is called, He who is, was, and is to come: So that to him appertain all the differences of time, the past, present, future: but among these he loves the present time, and he says, I am what I am, or, he who is, and not, he who shall be. He that would be like God, and please him, must speak as he does: I am he that is righteous, holy, separate from sinners, devoted to God, consecrated to his Service.  
Heretofore God required our first-sruits, and the first born of our Herds, and likewise of our Children. Abraham risen betimes in the morning to go and sacrifice his Son, and God commanded that an immortal Fire should burn in his Temple for the perpetual Sacrifice of Morning as well as Evening. This signifies, God would be served first, and our Firsts are to be consecrated to him; he wills not we should say to him, Come and follow me, if the World leaves any thing remaining thou shalt have it. He loves not those People that say unto him, Let us first do such a thing, or go to such a place, etc. He answers them, Let the dead bury their dead, come ye and follow me. For having put your hands to the Plough, if ye look back ye are not fit for the Kingdom of God.  
Few persons there are but confess, That one time or other in ones Life it is necessary to think on God; They only dispute about the time. One says, I will become a good Christian when I have finished my House; another, when I have made my Fortune; and young People say, when we are old and have tasted the pleasures of Life: in a word, All remit this great Affair to Futurity. Since they confess that 'tis of absolute necessity to give up themselves to God, and that without this, Hell and Death eternal are inevitable; is it not the greatest Fury and Madness to deal thus, and to remit an Affair of so great Importance to the time to come, whereof we can in no wise be assured? Young People, you Idolaters of Pleasure, make use of the Example of the rich man, who said in the Evening to his Soul, Eat, drink, and be merry, thou hast laid up Goods for many years; when that very Night, that Soul to which he had given such bad Counsel, was required of him. Who has given you Assurances that you shall arrive to old Age? Or have ye made a Treaty with God, that in what Estate soever Death shall surprise you Heaven shall receive you. If Death re'ncounters you, covered with Vices, coming from a Comedy at the Theatre, or from a Debauch at the Tippling-house, or any place more infamous, Do ye believe ye are in a good Condition to say at the Gate of Heaven, Lord, Lord, open unto us? It will be answered, Go, I know you not, ye Workers of Iniquity: Ye will say, without doubt, We have sinned against Heaven and against thee, we are not worthy to be called thy Sons; but spare us, and impute all our Sins to our Youth. This will do nothing; God cannot in favour of Youth disannul that irrevocable Edict, Nothing impure can enter into my Holy City.  
The Jewish Doctors, who frequently happen to say very good things, say, Remember thy God, and turn to him only one day before thy Death. This is extraordinarily well said: think therefore of thy God to day, for to morrow perhaps thou shalt die. What do we do then when we dispose of the time to come, and say, To morrow we will set upon such a sort of Pleasure, the day after we will act a Debauch, we will live in this manner for fifty or sixty years, and after that we will think of a Retreat to God? Truly, we imitate those ambitious and visionary Princes, who, upon the only hope of making Conquests, divide beforehand the Provinces, and dispose of the Governments which are none of their own. To whom belongs the time to come? Without doubt, to God only, who holds it as in Storehouses, and lets it run as pleaseth him, who stops its Source, or prolongs its Current: so that when we distribute the time to come, we take upon us to bestow what is Gods and none of our own, and which perhaps never will be; and yet we destiny and divide it beforehand to sundry uses. And this is the utmost Folly, even in the opinion of the World, and noted by many Proverbs that are very well known.  
Since therefore it is absolutely necessary to devote ourselves to God, is it not to be done when it is most easy? And I maintain, it's easier to love God and be converted to him when we are young, than in old Age. This seems to be a Paradox, because in that Age the Blood boils, the Flesh is vigorous, and Sin sticks to the Entrails. We have a peculiar and sovereign taste in all worldly Pleasures. True indeed; when once we have let the Reins lose to Concupiscence in our Youth, it is well nigh impossible to stop its impetuous Passion and Fury. It ought to dry up the Springs, that it may put an end to these Disorders. But if in good time we turn our Souls to God, and to Devotion, it is sure, we shall improve therein incomparably much better than in old Age: to what thing oever young Men are carried, they are carried to it with Violence and Ardour. 'Tis the Temper of that Age; if there be a good Conduct made of those first F●●es, there will thence arise an excellent Zeal, and an holy fervour of Devotion, as we see in them who know how to make a right use, and serve themselves of the Rapidness of Torrents and Rivers, to turn Mills and Machine's of great advantage to the Life of Mankind. On the contrary, Experience teaches us, that Devotion relents and slackens with Age, and old men are more put to it to chasen and heat their Hearts in pious Duties: their Soul is hardened, 'tis not touched nor moved with so much ease, because it is not so tender as it was, the fire of Zeal seeming to be diminished by the diminution of natural heat.  
Whence come the Difficulties we meet withal in the work of Conversion? Certainly, none of them there are but what augment and increase with Age. This difficulty of thinking on God proceeds from Custom and Habit. Now Custom by Age becomes a Tyrant: it comes from the Devil; and when once it has established its Tyranny by a long Possession, 'tis almost impossible to destroy it. At first it comes alone by itself, but in a little while it is called Legion, and such a Devil as cannot be conjured out by a Get thee behind me Satan, and cannot be chased away but by Prayer and Fasting. Again, our Faculties are used to it, and the Soul loses its strength, it is no longer capable of a Design and Enterprise so vigorous, as to turn to God and break with Sin. In short, this Difficulty proceeds from that God leaves off calling upon, and inviting and offering his Grace; and his Patience is changed into a just Fury and Indignation when it has been a long time abused.  
But above all, let us consider how strong the Habits of Luxury and Debauchery do become when we permit them to take Root, and let 'em arrive even to old Age. The young Plant which might be plucked up with one hand, is now a trunk of immense Greatness, which resists the Hatchet and Wedge. This little Monster, the love of Voluptuousness, which might have been easily stifled at its Birth, is become so great and so terrible, as there is now no attacking nor fight with it. Sins simply considered, do not become more strong by Age, their number is multiplied. These are Snowballs, that wax bigger and bigger in rolling: these are Torrents, which swell bigger the farther they remove from their Springhead: 'twas an easy matter at first to pass over them on foot, but now one cannot cross them by swimming. Now the number of multiplied Sins augments the difficulty of Devotion and Conversion. We read in the Life of the Holy Fathers, That an Angel made one of those solitary Inhabitants of the Desert to see in a Vision an old Man, that cut Wood in the Forest, to get a Burden for his Back, with design to carry them away. When the Fardel was extremely big he essayed to lift it up upon himself; but finding it too heavy, he let it fall to the ground, and fell a cutting new Wood, and added it to his Burden; whereupon, he endeavoured again to lift it up, but that was more impossible for him than before. Nevertheless, it tumbling down again he put more Wood to it still: and this he did several times. The solitary Person admired the Folly of this old Man, till the Angel took up his Speech, and said, Thou see'st this old Man, he is the Emblem of Worldlings, they heap Sins upon Sins; a design of lifting themselves up to God comes across; presently they sink under the burden of their Sins: They begin again to commit new Crimes, as if this burden by increasing would become much lighter. When they have pushed on their Excesses a good way, a new desire of devoting themselves to God overtakes them, but the burden of their Sins is become very great, and consequently the motions of Elevation are the more difficult. This Parable was composed for our Subject, and against those unhappy People that dedicate their youthful years to the Pleasures of the World, and remit the practice of Devotion, and the lifting up of their Souls to God to another time.  
St Austin, in expounding the History of Lazarus his Resurrection, asks, why our Lord employs Sighs, Tears, Prayers, and a loud voice to raise him again from the dead, which he did not do for the others, whom he revived? as for the young man of Naim, whose bier he touched only, and Jairus' Daughter, to whom he only said, Talitha Cumi, Maid, arise. 'Tis says he, because Lazarus had been dead four days. Our Lord would give us an Image of the Difficulty to be met withal in a smners' Conversion, when he is confirmed in his sin. The first day, says that Father, is that of Pleasure which we taste in the sin. The second is that of Consent. The third is that of Love and Application to the pleasure of the sin: and the fourth is mere Custom and Habit. When we are come to this, we cannot be raised again, we cannot be converted to God but by Cries and Tears, and the Voice of the Lord fruitfal in Miracles. This, methinks, makes us comprehend well the interest we have to think on God in due time, and to consecrate our Youth to Devotion. 〈◊〉 know very well, that the end obtains the Crown, but I know too, that 'tis of the highest importance to begin well, that we may end happily. An Arrow which wanders and slides from towards the Butt, just as it parts from the Bow, will be found at a monstrous distance from the Butt before it comes to its journey's end. One, that in his youth is plunged into debauchery, and abandons himself to sensual pleasures, will find himself far removed from God in his old age, he must take a great deal of trouble to bring himself back again from such an Aloof. And therefore, I conclude with the wise man, Young man, Remember thy Creator in the days of thy Youth.  

Meditation.  
WHY dost thou delay, O my Soul, after these Considerations? Dost not thou apprehend the necessity there is of consecrating thyself, without any shifting, or lingering, to the service of thy God? Thou evermore sayest, to morrow, to morrow, but this morrow never comes, and the day of thy Separation from the body will come in an hour when thou lookest not for it. When thy God calls upon thee, thou tellest him the Words of a slothful and sleepy Person. Presently, I say, presently, 
St. August. Confess. l. 8. cap. 5.  let me alone a little, but one Moment longer: but this presently never comes, and this Moment is an everlasting one. I see thou art displeased at obliging thee to give up thyself so soon to God. This is too soon, sayest thou, to begin, and will it not be time enough some years hence? Wicked and ungrateful, canst thou think too soon on thy God.? It is just, thou shouldst think of him assoon as thou beginnest to be, and to know thyself, since he thought on thee and thy Salvation from Eternity. His Essence had no beginning, and his Love for thee had none too; Both Eternal. What didst thou do to this great God to engage him to love thee so long a while before? He loved thee before thou wast amiable. He saw thee in thy Nothing, and in the Abyss of thy Corruption, and from all Eternity he prepared means for thee to get out of that Abyss, he prepared thee a Redeemer. He did not reserve one moment in Eternity which he has not given thee; and thou wouldst retrench from him many years of this short and uncertain Life, whereof thou hast the use here below. Perhaps thou wilt say, that it would not be unjust if thy time were divided betwixt thy God and thee, and that it is hard to give all one hath, without reserving any thing to one's self. But dost not thou consider, that thy God has given thee all things? He has given thee the Heaven and the Earth, the Fields, Rivers, Fountains, Plants, Trees, and Fruits; hath he reserved any thing to himself? Has not he given himself too entirely to thee? has he not given thee his only Son; and still, has not he given him up to Death itself for thee? wouldst not thou then be very ungrateful, O my soul, if thou wouldst divide with God, and rob him of any thing which thou hast? But alas, when thou thinkest and speakest thus, thou dost not well understand thy own interests. Thou supposest, that thou losest from thyself all the time thou givest to thy God, whereas, on the other side, thou savest only those moments from shipwreck, which thou consecratest to him: All the rest of thy time is l●st, being coufounded in that mighty abyss of what is past: But the Moment's, thou givest to thy God, are put in reserve, thou wilt find them, they will come before thee; At the great Judgement they will be put to thy account, and for some moments of Devotion thou shalt receive eternal Glory. Do not therefore hang in suspense any longer, O my Soul; delay no more to renounce all the pleasures and all the hopes of the Age, for to follow thy God only. In him is the Well of Life; in his Light thou shalt see Light: thou shalt be fatted with the fat of his House, and quench thy thirst in the Flood of his Pleasures. In thy old age thou shalt not regret the loss of thy Youth. Thy days shall not rise up in Judgement against thee to condemn thee, when thou shalt be old and on the brink of Death: The thought of thy God shall not put thee into an affright; Thou wilt not look upon him as a Judge, who comes to demand an account of so many years consumed in vain Pleasures, but a Deliverer who will come to break thy Irons, and as a Rewarder bringing days of Refreshment, instead of painful and dolorous years which the World would make thee pass thorough.   

Prayer.  
O Most gracious and merciful Lord, thou Guide of my Youth, thou Light to the blind, thou Instructor of the ignorant, who enlightenest the simple, bringest back those that have wandered into the way of Truth, and perfectest praise out of the mouth of Babes and Sucklings, teach me thy ways, and draw me out of the paths of the World: make haste, that I may do so too: leave me not any longer in the World and in Sin. By the effusion of thy Grace into my Soul, make my Heart to desire thee, that in desiring thee it may seek thee, and in seeking thee it may find thee, in finding thee it may love thee, and in loving thee it may find in that love a sovereign Joy. It is now too long a time; I have consumed myself in my vain desires. I would go to thee, but I find not strength to vanquish those Habits wherein I am engaged by Custom. Come therefore and tear me, O my God, out of the arms of Voluptuousness; suffer not these delays of mine: and if I should say, yet a little while, stay a little longer, draw me by thy Powerful Word, and say unto me, Awaken thou that sleepest, arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee Light. If words be not efficacious enough to raise me up, touch the bier, strike the Body, wherein the Soul is, as it were, buried: It sleepeth in its Tomb, or rather it is dead: bodily Pleasures have overwhelmed or slain it. Smite therefore the Body, that the Soul may awake; for it is better that I enter into Life having but one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into Hell-fire: It is better that my Flesh here below suffer some pains, and that my Soul one day taste those infinite Pleasures which thou preparest for it on high. I abide in Sodom, and I love my abode: thou sendest thy Angels to draw me thence, thy Word and thy Mnisters to make me departed before the terrible day comes, in which thou wilt tumble down torrents of fire and brimstone upon this wicked World: but I ever find pretexts to delay. Lay hold then of my hand, and draw me out by the force of thy Grace, that I perish not among the wicked. Show me the way of thy holy hill, that I may save myself, and thence without danger behold the deluges of Corruption, which overspread the Country, and the Torrents of thy Wrath and Vengeance, which suddenly and amazingly overwhelm the World. Alas! If it would please thee, O my God, to make me taste the speritual Delights of thy Love, I should not be so sensible of Earthly Pleasures, and I should not linger so long to seek thee, for I most ardently wish after happiness: If therefore I knew that my Beatitude lies in thee, I should fly to find in thee that happiness which I seek. O Lord, since Pleasure is the only Loadstone capable of drawing my Soul, make me taste a little of that Joy which I ought to find in thee; make me to feel thy infinite Goodness, that without delay I may run after thee, and consecrate myself to thy service, walking in Holiness and Righteousness all the days of my Life, and setting my Affections on things above, that when Christ, who is my Life and Pleasure, shall appear, I may also appear with him in Glory.     

PART iv Of helps towards Devotion.  

CHAP. I. The first General Advice is, to will, desire, and ask Devotion.  
WE have seen from how many Sources Indevotion springs; let us now try to vanquish those Difficulties, by some Advices that may lead us to Devotion. Those Advices I would give here, are either general or particular. But before I pass further, we are to presuppose, that he whom we would make devout must have a Mind himself to become so: he that has not this Disposition will very unprofitably pass farther. How many indevout persons have we in the World, that do not desire Devotion for themselves, and contemn it in others? Of this sort we find some that are so hardy as to persuade themselves they have a Religion. I am, it may be, says one, as religious as another, though I laugh at Devotion and devout Persons. If they believe what they say, most assuredly they cheat their own Heart; and we must confess, that these People are really profane. Others there are that esteem Devotion in another, and yet like it not for themselves: it doth not fit right with the Spirit of the World, which they make their Idol. They approve the better side, they admire it, but they fancy, as to their own particular, they may be saved with less Trouble. I know not whether these be better than the former; yet they are a little nearer to the Disposition we seek after: but still, alas! in how bad a Condition is their Conscience? They are in this worse than the former, that they sin against their own Sentiment; they know their Master's Will, and do it not. They are afraid of doing too much; provided they be saved, it's of no great Importance how. What a thought is this! Is not Paradise worth the purchasing at the Expense of some Tears, some Prayers, some hours of Humiliation? And how can we imagine we can obtain Heaven by the less, since we shall find a hard Task to arrive thither by the greater? If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the  and the Sinner appear? Do ye believe, ye backward and lukewarm Souls, that a truly devout Person has too much Righteousness to open to himself the gate of Heaven? Do not you know that all the World praises that Saying of St. Austin, Woe to the most praiseworthy Life, if it be examined without Mercy; and what the Psalmist says, If thou shouldst mark Iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand? I speak of the Iniquities of the Righteous. If those truly devout Persons have not overmuch Righteousness, you will strangely want it then who come so much behind them: but ye say, God will supply what is lacking; for this did Christ Jesus die, that we might obtain his Grace and Favour in the midst of our Infirmities. But how do ye know that the Blessed Jesus would this, does not he do what-liketh him best with his own? You ought therefore to take the surer side. What assurance have ye that God gives his Grace thus to those that slight it? Although you could do it, the mercy of the Lord will have employ enough; and your righteousness, though pushed on to the extremity of your strength, will still have need of Supplements to attain to Glory.  
There are other Indevout People, which are still a little farther off than the former. They would have a good deal of Devotion, but they are not yet come to desire it; that is to say, the motions of their Will towards it are very imperfect. I would willingly become so (says one) but I cannot; the World bears me away, my Affairs wholly take me up, the temper and frame of my Body and Soul have not the necessary Turn for the practice of this Virtue; I do what I would not, and what I would that do I not; for the law of my members continues Mistress of the Law of my mind: they are not much afflicted at the not having that which they wish, and it is a certain proof that they wish it very feebly. In this Estate, how far from Perfection must the Conscience needs be! This is not to love God with all the Soul; this is to seek him with the least part of the heart, and to desire him with a most imperfect Will. To will Devotion at that rate is, to take the way never to obtain it: for the Soul does not surmount the difficulties but by heartening itself against them, and by acting with all its might and vigour. Judge then, if an Heart in this looseness can attain one of the most difficult things in the World. We have seen how many strong Passions ruin and destroy Devotion; the Love of the World, its Pleasures, and its Vexations. If to these passions, so violent and headstrong, you oppose, I know not what imperfect desires it is but the Fight of Dwarves against Giants.  
So that the first general Counsel I give to attain Devotion, is, to desire it ardently. Some will say, that they who desire it, have it already: but that is no necessary conclusion. Some motions there are, whereof we are not the Masters, and oftentimes we passionately desire a thing we are not able to effect, although it depend upon our Will. Most terrible is the tyranny of Habits, and the cord of Sin are difficult to break. St. Austin most divinely paints out to us the motion of such a Soul, as would elevate itself to God but cannot; I panted after the liberty of thinking only on thee, O my God, but I sighed, being still tied up, not by foreign Chains, but by those of my own will, which were harder than Iron. The Devil held it in his Power; he had bound it fast. I had a Will to serve thee with the purest Love, and to enjoy thee, O my God, in whom alone is to be found a solid and true Joy; but this new Will, which was but stillborn, was not capable of conquering that other which had fortified itself by a long habit in Sin. Behold the Picture of a Christian Soul, that wishes to be truly devout, would only think on God and love him, but cannot. Nevertheless, how happy is such a Soul and near to Devotion! When we seek God we are on the Eve of finding him. This is that Hunger and Thirst after Righteousness to which the Lord promises a Refreshment. These Desires are the effects of Grace: but if Nature doth nothing in vain, with much stronger Reason does Grace. These Desires therefore cannot be fruitless, they will obtain their end, they will be filled one day. There's hardly any thing but wherein the vigour of the Soul, and the force of the Desires, hit their mark: and hereby, rather than by the strength of his Armies, did the Great Alexander vanquish the World, gain so many Battles, take so many Cities, and trample on the Necks of conquered Nations: when things necessary to the Accomplishment of his Designs failed him, the vigour of his Courage, that is, the force of his Desires, served instead of them. If the Desires can perform so much in things without us, and independent on our Will, what cannot they do in that which depends thereon, and is virtually our Will itself?  
To make these pious desires succeed, we are to call God to our aid: these are younglings, that he has caused to be born, and 'tis his Interest to nourish them; these be the Aurora of that Sun, who doth not fail to come and fully enlighten us, provided he be invoked with fervour. Here is therefore another Adviso, which is but a Corollary and a Deduction from the former: We must ask of God the grace of Devotion, and in his presence groan after what we have not. If there be any favour of our Vows and Tears, if there is any Gift that comes immediately from Heaven, 'tis this Virtue; for nothing is more pure and more elevated among ●he Christian Virtues. If any of you lack Wisdom, says St. James, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberal, and upbraideth not. I know not, whether there be ●y part of Christian Wisdom more desirable than this. Of God we ask our daily Bread, our Food and Raiment, health of Body, and cure of our Diseases: but ●e Soul is sick, poor, and dying, when deprived of De●tion, which is its Fire, Soul, Life. In a word, there is no●ing to which we may more assuredly apply the pro●ise of St. James, that God refuseth no body, but gives ●o all liberally; since it is the Prayer of the World, ●hich is most agreeable to him, because it tends whol● to his Glory and our own Salvation. We ask of God, ●hat he would please to enter into us, and that we ●ay enter into him, to be perfectly united to him by a ●tual tye: And how cannot this be wellpleasing to God, seeing our Lord Christ himself, the model of our ●oughts and actions, hath asked the same thing for us; That I may be in them and they in me, that they may be ●ade perfect in one. Here therefore we ought to begin ●r Instructions, and the Faithful are to begin their Work: for if nothing can be done without God of what ●●th not regard him, how can we do that without him, which depends immediately upon him, and is terminated in him.  

Meditation.  
〈◊〉 consult my own Heart to know whether I can truly 〈◊〉 say, My Soul fainteth for the Courts of the Lord. As the ●art-panteth after the Water Brooks, so my Soul thirsteth 〈◊〉 the living God. My Soul is as a barren and dry Land, ●ere no Water is: when shall I come and appear before God? But alas, I find not in me these thoughts and motions. I find there a great barrenness, and (as it were) a general privation of Heavenly Graces: I meet only with some languishing desires, that perish in the moment of their birth. My Faith is wavering, my Charity cold, my Hope weak, my Zeal almost extinct, and my Devotion lukewarm. A waken thyself immediately, O my Soul; if thou wouldst be united to thy God, if thou wouldst love him and be beloved by him; 〈◊〉 thou wouldst have him kindle the pure Flames of Devotion in thy Soul, thou must will it, desire it, ask it. This Good, this great Good, deserves that thou shouldst make the first steps, and get before it. Do not say unto me, that thou art shackled up in unhappy Chains, and the Flesh calls and persuades thee to the contrary, that thou wouldst but thou canst not be Pious; that thou wouldst this moment but thou canst not will it any time long. Alas! if thou willest it, O my Soul, it may be done: these Chains of thy will are voluntary Chains: these bonds are evil Habits and engagements in Corruption, which are so far from lessening thy Sin, that they render thee the more culpable. In this sort of things we do all that we will, and when we do not that which we will, 'tis because we will it with a most imperfect will.   

Prayer.  
O Most merciful Saviour, I am very sensible, I am not tru●● Devout, because I have not the will to be so: but ala●● though the Cords that tie up my will to work evil, be voluntary, yet they are not the less strong nor the less easy to be dissolved. My corruption is in my Will, and therefore 〈◊〉 cannot conquer it by my will alone. Thy Grace is sufficient for me; but without it I can do nothing. Come then, conmy Deliverer, and break these Chains under which I groan▪ I will not let thee go till thou hast blessed me: Create in me a pure Heart, and renew a right Spirit within me: Let thy free Spirit sustain me. It would be in vain to seek counsel ●nd aid to promote and secure my Devotion: Without thee, ●esigns fail of their success, and councils are unprofitable. We can scarce guard Cities or build Houses, unless thou richest, unless thou put to thine hand, all our cares and ●●our becomes vain. Hear my Prayers, O God, and let not 〈◊〉 Meditations be fruitless. Quicken the Divine word of thy ●ly Spirit, that it may enkindle my heart as a Fire, and ●●at I may be forthwith delivered from those coldnesses ●●ich rack and torture me, so as I may be filled with D●●●tion as much as I can wish to be so.    

CHAP. II. The second general Advice: To lead an holy Life, and practise all the Virtues.  
WE have already said somewhat of the necessity of living well, to become truly devout; but the Subject is too important to make a halt or stop there. ●nd therefore let us now consider, that there is no ●●ion more straight than that of a faithful Soul with ●s God in the acts of Devotion; 'tis a secret commerce; 'tis to see God face to face, and speak with ●im as one intimate Friend speaks with another. All ●●at is conceived of the Union betwixt the Husband and ●●e Wife, between the Father and the Son, betwixt the ●ody and a Member, is not strong enough to represent 〈◊〉 us the Union of a Soul that flies to Heaven upon ●he Wings of Hope and Faith, and to which God discovers the inestimable treasures of his Love. God enters into it and it into God, and so they be●●me one. But who doth not see, that to smooth ●he way to himself towards so strict an union, he must be ●ure even as he is Pure? the heavenly Lamp suffers no ●ening, nor mixture of Day or Night. God who is ●ight cannot be united to a Soul that is in Darkness.  
If there be any Virtue, for which we are owing to the Holy Ghoft's presence in us, it is Devotion. Now we know well enough, by what we may obtain this presence of the H. Spirit. 'Tis not by the magnificence of the house, but its neatness: when the evil Spiri● goeth out of the house and at his return findeth i● swept and garnished, he returns ashamed, and cannot enter thereinto without the help of six other Spirits more wicked than himself. That which drives the evil Spirit away, attracts the holy one? and he does not make our heart to be his Temple, unless we banish thence all Impurity. Moses carves and polishes two Tables of Stone, God engraves his Law thereon. A Painter cleanses his linnen-cloth before he draws o● it the Picture of a Prince. We have two carnal tables of the Heart, the Understanding and Will: but we are not to hope, that God will write his Laws, or the H. Ghost paint his Image thereon, unless they be nea● and polished. Thou devout and pious Soul, which wishest to see God abiding in thee, and his love in thy heart, cleanse the table of thy Understanding from those many Errors, Prejudices, fond Imaginations and ev●● thoughts, cleanse the table of thy Will from those sinful Inclinations and vicious Habits. When both these tables shall become blank and white, undoubtedly God will come to paint and engrave his Image thereon.  
Devotion is an entrance into God's Cabinet; 〈◊〉 brought me, says the Spouse, to the Banqueting-house, but no one enters there unless he have the Weddings Garment on, and be gracefully decked with Faith▪ Hope, and Charity; unless he put on the Lord Jes●● Christ, and the Bowels of Mercy, of a meek Mind, 〈◊〉 Righteousness and Holiness. Devotion is an Elevation● of the Soul, and Sin a Clog to it: If we burden the Soul with these Weights, how shall it lift itself up▪ We are therefore to discharge our Heart of one Sin to day, to morrow of another, to subdue Covetousness one day to attack Pride, another Ambition; and the more thy Heart is thus engaged, the more free will thy Devotion be. Above all, we ought to remember that our Heart is the most delicate and tender part of ●s; there's no need of putting it into Disorder: We ●overthrow it with Age; but to re-establish it is the ●●nost Difficulty. It is the eye of the Soul; any chip, ●ny grain of Dust is able to destroy it. It is Milk, which is corrupted by the Air's Motion only, and by Thunder; 'tis a Lute that is put out of Tune by unsea●●●able Distempers of the Air: and certainly, true Sanctification has more parts than a Lute hath strings; so that this holiness of the Heart is ruined by the disorder of one of those parts, as one bad Sound destroys ●ll the Harmony of a Consort: and therefore, with a wondered Care we ought to guard our Heart and every part thereof. The Soul resembles a Sea, and its Passions the Winds: If you do not bridle and keep in ●hese Passions, they will raise terrible Tempests in the ●ea; and Devotion, which is a peaceable Virtue, will ●arce be heard. Every Passion carries the Heart to it ●elf, and Devotion, being a Stranger, and standing only by itself, will never gain it.  
There is, most assuredly, a very near Relation betwixt Words and Actions; they come from the same Source, and the same Heart produces them: wherefore, I think, we cannot better employ the Mouth than ●o sing the Praises of God; nor the Mind, than to contemplate his Wonders; nor the Soul, than to lift itself up by Piety and the practice of good Works. We have said, that a Man is ill disposed in coming from a Ball or Comedy, to fall to pious Ordinances. On the quite contrary, I say, that in returning from the House of Mourning, where he has comforted the Afflicted, succoured the Miserable, sustained the Weak, ●ed the Poor, and defended the Oppressed, he finds himself in such a Gaiety of Heart, and such a Disposition to Prayer, as is inconceivable. He comes to God with the Lightness and Alacrity of a Servant, who presents himself before his Master, after having done his Duty, to obtain the Reward: for, although he acknowledges he deserves nothing at God's hands, yet he knows, that God liberally recompenseth us for what we do only by the help of his Grace. He approaches to the Altar with the Confidence of a Subject that appears before his Prince with Presents, which he knows are capable of opening the way to his Heart: for, though our good Works be most imperfect Gifts, that hold not what they have good in them but from God's Liberality, nevertheless, he is not ignorant, that he accepts them as if they were of great Price. Insomuch, as I will not make any difficulty to say, that the Ancients and Moderns, who have distinguished the Active Life of a Christian from the Contemplative, and have believed, that this can be without that, and even that the Contemplative Life was far more excellent than the other, are assuredly in a great error: for, by separating the Active life, which consists in doing good to our Neighbour, and practising Charity to the afflicted and miserable, from the contemplative life, to which they believed they could give themselves up entirely, they have certainly deprived Devotion of a very great help. I have already confessed there to be no need, that the Employments of Martha, which have regard to the bodily Service of our Saviour and his Members, should take away from us the time consecrated to Mary's works, toreading Meditation and Prayer. But we have time enough for all: When Mary shall have been sufficiently heard, than its fit she take the place of Martha. Wherefore I would not counsel him that would attain to perfect Devotion, to renounce that part of the World which consists of the afflicted Members of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is the School of Virtue and Piety; and so far is it, that this practice of works of Mercy can distract devout Souls, that it is the readiest and surest way to arrive at Devotion. The Ideas of the World I confess are incompatible with those wherewith a devout Soul ought to be filled: A tragical event, the ●ight of a triumph, the hope of a fortune for one's self, the grandeur of that of another, a duel, a war, all this (I say) hath no alliance with the sweet Images of God, of his Love and Benefits. Wherefore it's good to shut and bar the Door against these first Representations, if we would with success labour to establish others in their room: but the Images of a man languishing upon the Bed of Sickness, or another, that suffers for God's sake agrees easily with the thought of our Lord Christ suffering for us. A multitude of poor Creatures, to whom thou openest thy Bowels, will easily lead thee to the Consideration of those Liberalities, thou receivest from God. The aid thou shalt lend one to defend his Life, another for the defence of his Honour and Reputation, will oblige thee to think on the Benefits and Helps, thou continually receivest from Heaven. Thou shalt have no-manner of need to banish the thoughts that attend an Active life; lodge those in their place, which spring from Contemplation: They will be united in the same heart, and lend one another mutual Succour.  

Meditation.  
I HAVE been told sometimes that the Virtues are Sisters, that walk hand in hand, that they are so many Rings in an holy chain, which is broken by the rapture of one of those Rings. They can't be without one another; and therefore, O my Soul thou canst not be truly devout, because thou art not truly Virtuous, and thou hast not in thy heart the Practice of all good works. Dost not thou see, that the World is exactly ●am'd to furnish employ to thy Virtues, and to soilicit thee to good and holy actions? the heavens declare the Glory of God, and the extent of the Firmament showeth his Almighty Power; that thou mayest join thy Voice to those praises which all Nature rings, and thy gratitude may have scope to act upon. The Air forms outrageous Tempests, makes the Thunder and Lightning to break forth; so as the fear of God may spring up in thee, and thou mayest tremble under his hands which make the Mountains to tremble. Dost not thou see that God here below makes miserable wretches, that they may be the Objects of thy Compassion; poor ones, that thou mayest be liberal; afflicted, that thou mayest comfort them; weak for thee to uphold; sick, that thou mayest visit them? Doth not be permit too even that there be sinners, straying like lost Sheep, that thou mayst bring them into the right way; ignorant ones, for thee to instruct; imprudent, that thou mayest be their Director; some that fall, that thou mayest help them up again, and for thyself that thou look to thy steps; and even wicked persons, who perish, that thou mayest be put into a wholesome terror for thyself? does not he suffer examples of Vanity to be, that thou mayest slight and contemn the World; sudden and unlooked for deaths, that thou shouldst watch and be ever upon thy Guard; proud men, that fall into ruin, while thou retainest thyself in Humility; the wicked, who are punished for thee to dread sin; good men, that are rewarded, for thee to seek Virtue? yet amidst so many lessons thou art deaf and . Thou makest thy Virtue to consist in not doing evil, that is to say, in doing nothing; as if any one should make life to confist in death, and in being deprived of Motion. Thou remember'st not that the barren figtree was cut up by the root; that God will cast out the unprofitable servant, and will banish out of his Paradise both him that hath lost his talon, and him that had only buried it in the Earth.   

Prayer.  
COme then, O my Divine Redeemer, come and cultivate my heart, that it be no more a rocky and barren ground. Soften this Rock by the rain of thy Grace; bless this Field to make it bring forth Fruits worthy of Repentance. Let mine hands distil Myrrh, and my fingers precious Spices: Let them be always opened to the miserable: Let my feet run to the help of the afflicted: Let my ears receive, with earnestness, thy Word and thy Praises: Let my tongue continually celebrate thy most glorious Name, and lift up, even to Heaven, the Acts of thy good Favour. O Holy Spirit, thou Principle of all good motions, instill Life into me; be thou the Soul of my Soul, that it may be no more interred in the Grave of Sleep and Sin, but that it may act mightily, that it be inflamed by the fire of Charity; that this Fire may never cease one moment to be at rest and without Action; so that by continual practice of good Works I may be disposed to Devotion, and to an Union with thee, who art the Object of my Love. O let me by this Purity invite Him more and more, who is the Author of every good and perfect Gift, to make me partake of the flames of Zeal and Piety.    

CHAP. III. The third general Direction; To be watchful over the Senses, and not let the Heart lose.  
SO near a commerce is there between the Heart and the Senses, that our strife would be in vain to guard the one, unless we set a strict watch over the other. The Heart is the House; the Senses are the Gates and Windows. And hereat does the Devil enter and seizes on our Souls. This Enemy prepares so many batteries without as we have external Senses, and if we escape Death on one side, he sends it us on the other. Notwithstanding, this we may say in vindication of the Senses, that they are more unhapy than criminal: they have a sensation of what they ought to have according to the order of Creation: and even the greatest part of Ideas, which come to 'em, are innocent, but they are spoilt in arriving at the Heart. The beauty of a Woman, the glitter of Gold and Silver and precious Stones, the sweetness of vocal Music are the works of God, and consequently they cannot be evil: but 'tis the Heart poisons these innocent Images. Nevertheless, since the Heart doth not scatter its poison but upon the Objects which are presented to it, we should take away the matter of its Crimes, and it's mischievous Habits would be assuredly destroyed and lost, if they wanted Employment; and therefore it's of absolute necessity to have a constant guard over the Senses. I made an agreement with mine Eyes, says an holy man, not to look upon all Women. This has been ever the custom of those who would become truly devout, to hold their Souls shut up to the multitude of Objects that might assault 'em on all sides. True it is, the usage of this Maxim has been pushed on and wrested even to Superstition: some have voluntarily banished themselves into Deserts, that they might see nothing at all: Others have locked themselves up in Cells and Caves never to come forth. And History tells us of an Egyptian Hermit, who would never agree to let his Sister have the Pleasure of seeing of him. He received Order from his Superior, at the entreaty of Athanasius to go and visit her: he went, but he presented himself before her with his Eyes shut, and would by no means see her: Glut thyself quickly (said he to her) with the sight of me. These excesses do a greater wrong and injury to Reason; than they bring help to Devotion. The Soul draws a vast aid from its senses, when it knows how to make a good use of them. To stop all the Avenues, whereby Knowledge may arrive to the Soul, is to keep it in a darksome and lonely Prison, and nourish it in Ignorance. What is true herein is, that 'tis dangerous for it to be concerned about evil Objects; because it carries thence a tincture which indisposes it for Devotion. 'Tis no less dangerous to permit it to meddle too much with indifferent Objects, since this dissipates its strength, and evermore it returns with somewhat of the Vain air of those Courses, it takes Abroad.  
This is the way of the World's living: we give, we receive Visits; we expose ourselves to conversation, that is, to the contagion of every Comer. The eyes are always opened to see new Objects; the Ears to hear News: Vain is our Discourse; we say there a thousand impertinences and more of evil than good things. One will entertain you with a Dress; Another with a little intrigue of the Town: Others will pour profane or backbiting discourses into your Breast. One will carry you to see a new House, or any fine building: One lately come from a new World will tell you strange things, and enlarge his Recitals with Stories and Miracles, which he himself had been concerned in: and your Soul will return to your House charged with these Toys and Gewgaws. When it would enter into its Closet, it's certain, it will not find the Heart in its ordinary Dispositions: and upon that account it is the more difficult to be Devout in great Cities, where you can scarcely defend yourselves from these Amusements; so that I would advice the faithful Soul to keep its self up close. The Souls of worldly people are like to your great Streets, they are open to every Comer; we are never there but in a crowd: and Devotion, which loves Privacy, is not pleased with these public places. These are Inns where all Strangers are lodged well, and the Master lies oft out of Doors: But the heart of the faithful Person ought to be for himself, and God who is its Master, is to be ever at Large. A Garden enclosed is my Sister, my Spouse; a Spring shut up, a Fountain sealed, says Jesus Christ to his Spouse, that is, to every Christian Soul. Lock up this Garden, if thou wouldst preserve the Flowers and Fruits, and let not the purity of thy living Waters be corrupted by unclean Beasts. Temples and Oratories are not to be accessible to the profane: our Hearts are the Temples of the holy Ghost; and therefore let us shut the Gates against a thousand indiscreet Ideas and vain Objects, that would profane them. The Soul is a vessel which Grace fills with sweet Odours; but we should not give it too much Air, otherwise it would evaporate and become insipid. If the vessel be full it can receive nothing new without losing what it had before. If it be filled with Devotion, and we bring it into the World, according to the measure it is filled with Vanities, these Vanities will send what it had good a packing away. 'Tis a truth we are to fix in our memories, that at all times we make any sally into the World, we lose so much of our own. Dinah went out to see the Daughters of the Land, and she lost her best ornament, the flower of her Virginity. But especially let us remember, that in seeking out harmless Objects, we do not meet with sinful ones: every where the Devil is in ambush, he has made Nets of the very Roses. Sin reigns in all places; so that if we slip aside but a little, we most certainly meet with it; and then we shall find it a very difficult matter to avoid Infection.  
But what shall we say of those, that with a set design go into places, where they are sure Sin domineers, and Vice triumphs? After having lost half of their time in preparing themselves for a Ball, they will give the other part to the Devil, and plunge themselves into criminal Pleasures. These people are deliberate murderers of themselves in Ambush, and God will most justly demand of them an account of their Souls. Of all this, I conclude that the Devout Person ought to be very reserved as to the World, that he is not to be seen but by very few, and to see much fewer, and that he ought to get rid of that vain curiosity to know what passes therein. 'Tis enough for him to know what passes in his own heart, and well to regulate all its motions: Of what Importance to him is it to learn what is become of such a Fleet, what success had such a Battle, how prospered such a Negotiation, how go the treaties on of Peace, or the preparatives for War? The knowledge of all this cannot make him happy: these are only Ideas, which are heaped in the memory, and thence do not fail to make an irruption upon his Heart amidst his pious Duties.  

Meditation.  
HOW happy wilt thou be, O my Soul, when thou shalt be in that place, where thou shalt have nothing to fear, where thou shalt be able to soar aloft, and fly successively on an infinite number of Objects, and abandon thyself entirely to contemplation and diversity of thoughts! This Happiness will arrive to thee, when thou shalt be in Heaven. All Objects there will tell thee of thy Duty, and solicit thee to Obedience. Thou shalt be no more afraid, least Snakes lie under the Flowers, or the Devil be in Ambush in those places whither thy Mind and steps shall carry thee. Thy mind being become vast will fear no Dissipation; it will embrace all Objects without fear of being overwhelmed: and for the being filled with an infinite number of the most different Ideas, thy God will not have the less room in thee, since all those Ideas will be hallowed and beloved by God. But now here there's nothing of the like; thou canst not take one Step without running into danger; thou canst not go out from thyself without meeting an Enemy that seeks thee and has sworn thy Ruin; thou canst not admit into thy Bosom all those Objects which in a Crowd come to thy Senses, but thou fillest thy Heart therewith, and robbest God of the place he ought alone to possess. Make not therefore so many Sallies into the Universe where thou wilt always leave off thy own: contain thyself within the Bounds of thine own Heart; if it be not so large, it is very deep, and thou wilt find ample matter enough wherewith to exercise thyself. Thou wilt never be able to sound it to the Bottom; it cannot be known but by him that tryeth the Reins and Thoughts; but at least pierce into that impenetrable Subject as far as thou canst. Examine thyself, and this Knowledge of what passes in thee will be worth more than the Knowledge of all that is done in the World, and passeth amongst men: Mingle not thyself with Wars or Disentanglings of Estates, and such Particulars. Take notice of those Combats betwixt thy Flesh and thy Spirit, between the Law of thy Members and that of thy Understanding. Pacify these differences; teach the Flesh to be obedient; place Reason again in its Throne; give it Piety for a Counsellor; tame the Passions and make them Slaves. Put thy little Estate into a good order, and both wisely and holily govern that great People which is shut up in so little a Country, that is to say, that multitude of Affections, Thoughts, Sentiments, and Passions, which are in thy Heart.   

Prayer.  
O God, the great Governor of the World, who not only holdest the Reins of the Waters and Sea lest it overflow the dry Land, but brid'lest the Wickedness. of Men lest that overflow the World; who by thy profound Wisdom rulest the World after such a manner as thou drawest Light out of Darkness; Preside over the motions of my Heart, Draw Light out of this Chaos and Darkness, take the Reins to conduct my Soul, permit it not to wander about, and lose itself in its Rambles; stop the Inclination and Turbulencies of its Passions, that it may be recollected wholly into its self; and labouring about its own proper Affairs, may take care to prepare a Room for thee, to retain thee, to possess thee only, to contemplate nothing but thee, and banish thence all other Ideas; so as by this means it may be disposed to Devotion.    

CHAP. IU. The fourth general Direction; To persevere in holy Duties, and not to startle at any Difficulties.  
WE have not represented Devotion as an easy thing to obtain, and therefore the Faithful need not be surprised to meet with difficulties therein; much less are they to withdraw and despond: 'tis a new Advice I gave here to obtain it. Every upright Soul has frequently made experience, that in being willing to lift itself up it has found the Wings of its Devotion clogged either by worldly Vanities or the sluggishness of the Flesh: in this Estate, if it relax, it is undone. These Desires, so necessary (as we have seen) must have Action and Courage joined to them. Solomon speaks in his Proverbs of the Motion of an idle Man, whose whole Strength was exhausted in desires: He always makes the best Resolutions in the World, but never stirs out of his place. This laziness of the Soul perhaps might be what Solomon refers so much to; for he hath hardly a Chapter, but [as he passes along] he has a hit at the Sluggard. This sluggishness of the Soul is the Vice of those who drain themselves dry in praising Virtue, and reserve no strength to run after and attain it. The falsely devout one does the same thing; he praises, he desires it, but he yields to the first Temptation his Devotion meets withal. But dost not thou know, that all Great things are difficult? Doth a Pilot abandon his Vessel at the first rough Blast of Wind? Doth not a Rower, that goes against the Stream of a rapid River, struggle stiffly to refist the Water? He holds on, tugs, wipes his Forehead, takes Courage, and at last he overcomes. Does a Merchant renounce all Traffic for one loss; or a Courtier all his hopes for one ill turn of Fortune? Every one strives to regain by Diligence what his Disgrace had taken away from him. We must also resolvedly bend ourselves against Indevotion; and when we perceive our Heart ill disposed, its motions languishing, and its Devotions traversed by Wand'ring, we are to quell and take our Heart lower till we have brought it to its Duty; we are to read, meditate, pray, let it be never so much against the Grain. Although the Devil comes to fill your Mind with evil thoughts, (says St. Basil) you ought not therefore to abandon the use of Prayer; you are to make new and greater Endeavours. You must pray to God he would be pleased to break this thick Wall of vain thoughts which separates you from him: you must beseech him, that your Soul may be able soon to get to him without being retarded by meeting vain and evil Objects. And if the Enemy should come even with a plentiful supply of Distractions, yet you are not to give back, nor lose any Courage, nor renounce Victory in the midst of the Combat. You must persevere, till God, perceiving your Constancy, come to fill you with the light of his Spirit, put the Enemy to flight, purify your Understanding, and furnish your Reason with a divine Light, whereby your Soul, being put into the Possession of a Tranquillity exempt from Troubles, may serve God with a perfect Joy. This holy Person insinuates a Reason to us, which we ought to remember in the design of Perseverance; which is, That the Devil never leaves off tempting us; therefore we are not to leave off resisting him: our resistance doth not make him give back, so that we must not be foiled by his Temptations. God, who is the Spectator of our Warfare, and the Rewarder of our Labours, will with Pleasure see the faithful Soul in conflict with its Infirmities and Distractions, and when it is well nigh being subdued, will come at length and lend it his helping hand.  
Perseverance is a virtue of such great use, that we own to it the best works of Nature, of Art, and of Grace. If God had left the World imperfect, instead of a Miracle, he had made a Prodigy. There are particularly certain works, to which the last-hand is so essential, that if we do not conclude them, what had been begun, doth entirely perish. If you leave a Picture after its first rough-drawing and design, these beginnings will not cease subsisting upon the cloth: but if you carry a wheel half way upon an hill, and then leave it to itself for a moment; why, presently it will get to the Valley's bottom again, and your labour will not only be imperfect, but will come just to nothing. Devotion is of this last sort of things: if you leave it half done, what you had done, will soon perish. 'Tis Penelope's web; what is done by day, is undone by night. If thy life be not a perpetual day, and if thou dost not incessantly toil to advance thy Piety by Practice, one night only formed by the darkness of Indevotion and the absence of God's Grace, will ruin the work of many years, and one minute of laziness will destroy that which Courage, upheld a long time, had produced. Thy Devotion, O Christian Soul, is no more than a spark. Nourish this sacred fire preciously, blow it without remission, gather combustible matter to it from all sides; make thee a treasure of good things, turn oft towards Jesus Christ, thy Sun and thy Star, and this small sparkle will become a great fire, and this fire will cause a kindling, and that kindling will cast up flames, and those flames will lift thee to Heaven: But if thou neglect this spark, it will go quite out. Samson delivers himself up into the arms of Dalilah, he sleeps in her breast, his hair is shaved, which is the seat of his strength, and when the awakes he goes according to custom to take away the gates of Gath, and break the cords of the Philistines, but he doth not find himself the same Samson. So the Christian that is weakened by a non-assiduity to Devotion, sleeps in the arms of Pleasure; his Soul is enervated: he thinks to return to his old wont of having commere with God, but the Devil attacks and overthrows him by a load of evil thoughts, under which his Devotion lies bound as by so many Chains.  
If the Heavens should stop only for a day, perhaps there would follow a general slaughter and subversion of Nature; and much more without doubt the inferior things would receive a considerable damage. When the superior part of our Soul stops its divine motions, we cannot question but that a great disorder arises in the lower part: for the passions which would ever be the masters, do manage wisely these moments of Relaxation to prepare a Revolt. So that our Piety and Devotion must have the constancy, swiftness and order of the heavenly motions, so as this little World may be always in a good Estate. Nothing should hinder or interrupt the course of Devotion. You see Daniel, all the terrors of Death could not stop him in his divine race. He must be cast into the den of Lions; if he invokes God; yet this hinders him not from falling down at his set hours towards Jerusalem, the holy City Above all, let us be far from the way of the World, that runs to its own affairs, as if they were the most pressing. Let us give to God preserably, what belongs to him: and let us be at no farther trouble for the rest. 'Tis said of the Serpent, that he secures his head, when he is pursued, and exposes his body, if he can't save it. The hours consecrated to Devotion are the head of our life, and 'tis an holy prudence not to expose them but to draw them out of Danger, lest the Devil and the World devour them.  
In short, persevering is far better than violent Devotion, 'tis much better to go a little pace, but to be going always, that to run impetuous, yet interrupted races. Some are devout only by fits: for a day, nothing more ardent, more humble, more moved; but on the morrow so well dried up in the torrent of their Tears, that you can't see so much as the tracks of 'em. The ardency of this fever is so extremely well quenched as the least heat is not to be found. A constant mediocrity is preferable before these Excesses of a small Duration. Not that I think it not very necessary, that Devotion have its Festivals, and labour extraordinarily to rewaken itself on certain days and times. These are the Extraordinaries of Piety, to which we are to return as frequently as we can, and mainly never to want it at times destined to pious Uses and Works; as the participation of the blessed Sacrament of our Lord's Body and Blood: But beside these Extraordinaries, I would have the Soul have its ordinary course well regulated; and if that cannot be done always with those great motions, as it were to be wished, yet that it never fall in the least in the Respites and Intermissions.  

Meditation.  
HAve not I great reason to faint, and despair of success in all my designs, if I do but consider the greatness of the Undertake, the difficulties to be met withal therein, and the meanness of my own Strength; or, to speak better, my Weakness, and my Nothing. I aim at great things, for I aim at becoming one with my God. I would become like him; I would renew his Image in me; I would cleanse my Heart, so corrupt with Sin; I would rebuild this great House which Sin and the Devil have brought to ruin; I would ascend the Throne; I would become King and Priest to God my Father. Alas! my Soul, where in thyself wilt thou find strength to do such great things, thou, who art only Darkness, Weakness, and Pollution? If thou hadst no other Enemy to engage with but the Devil, how wilt thou vanquish that red Dragon which hath seven Heads and ten Horns? That wicked Serpent at the beginning poisoned our first Parents with the breath of his Mouth. And now he infects all the Sources where we drink; he lays his Snares in all our Paths; and more especially, he never makes greater Endeavours to destroy us than when we make ours to unite us to God by Prayer and Devotion: then he stirs up all the Fantomes of our Imagination to carry us out from God's Presence: He raises the Waves of our Passions and Concupiscence to keep us from that safe Harbour. And truly, 'tis his Interest to do thus; for thou never fightest him, O my Soul, with more Success, than by Prayer, when fervent and devout: so that he mingles Heaven and Earth together to distract thee, and instill into thee Sentiments of Coldness. Do notflatter thyself: if thou dost not see the Enemy with thy fleshly Eyes, yet he shoots his fiery Darts at thee: he speaks with thee, he attacks thee, he tempts thee by the mouth of thy Lust, which never fails him, and has made a League with him. But still, O my Soul! lose no Courage: if thou canst do nothing of thyself, thou canst do all things through thy Saviour, who strengthens thee. Watch, be sober, persevere, lay this evil Spirit, and drive him far from thee: Resist the Devil and he will flee from you. He presses upon none but those that give back.   

Prayer.  
AND thou, O Lord Jesus, my Redeemer, the great Spirit of Light, oppose thyself for me to this Spirit of Darkness. Let the Lion of the Tribe of Juda break the Jawbones of that roaring Lion that turns upon me to devour me. Let the holy Seed of the Woman break this Serpent's head; give me Antidotes against his Poison. Let thy Grace heal the Wounds which his Bitings and Stings have made in my Soul. Uphold me in all the Difficulties which that dangerous Enemy makes me meet with in my Spiritual Exercises. When I enter into my Closet or thy Temple, be like a brazen Wall about me to defend me from the Access of Evil Spirits. So as under the Wings of thy Protection and Love, I may live, during these Moment's, in a clear and calm Air, in a profound Peace; by favour whereof, I may consecrate to thee all my Thoughts, my Will, my Heart, my Understanding, and my Imagination, and nothing may withdraw me from thee.    

CHAP. V The fifth general Direction to help Devotion: To have God always before our Eyes.  
THis is a Remedy for most Mischiefs, but 'tis particularly so against Indevotion. I shall say by and by, that the Faithful aught to have their hours of Devotion wherein to retrace expressly the Ideas of the Divinity in their Mind, and awaken it to remember his Benefits and Graces: But this is not what I mean at present; I speak of that continual, and (as it were) habitual Thought of God, which is never to be abandoned. 'Tis a delicate and most spiritual Meditation, which comes a cross to rob our worldly Affairs of those Moment's which it consecrates to Heaven: 'Tis a sublime Operation of an Understanding illuminated by the light of Grace, that finds God all in all, that mixeth him in all our Actions, and spieth him out in all Objects. 'Tis an act of the Soul, whereby, amid humane Affairs, it turns without Violence to God-ward, through an Habit it has acquired. It makes all things to be as so many Ladders to scale Heaven, and all Objects to put one in mind of God. An Artificer while he is working, a Traveller in his Journey, a Scholar in his Study, will find means to sanctify what each does, in causing God to intervene by pious Reflections. Let the Lamb follow thee, O faithful Soul, whithersoever thou goest, that thou may'st be able one day to follow him whither he shall go. If thou art lying down in thy Bed, think on the Tomb of thy Saviour, who, for thy Salvation, was pleased to enter into the Chambers of Death. Art thou near falling on sleep, think on Christ, whose eyes were shut by the sleep of Death. An Infant just born will recall to thee the thought of thy Lord's Abasement and Humility in his Birth. An unhappy Person that suffers for his fins, will bring thee to think on Jesus, who suffered for thine. One that asks an Alms, will ask it for Christ his sake, or will tell thee, that he became poor, that thou mightst be rich. In a word out of all things 'tis easy for thee to extract an Occasion to think on thy God. What shall I say of the Objects of Nature, that put thee in mind of him almost against thy Will? If thou risest betimes, thou canst not see the Sun rising, without thinking on him, that has made this work, and without being reminded of the Sun of thy Soul, who pours forth the gleams of his Grace into thy Heart, to disperse thence all Darkness. The Woods, the Rivers, the Mountains, the Fields covered with harvest Corn, the Trees, Fruits, Flowers, all in short will entertain and compliment thee with thy God: For the Heavens declare the Glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handy Work. The Flies and Worms themselves speak this, since we see the Divinity showing in them: For as St Austin says well, this worker in such a manner appears great in great things, that he does not appear lesss great in the least of his works.  
We are therefore to form an Habit to ourselves of thinking on God, even while we do every thing, and this will be the true way of doing well, what we do, and engaging God to do it with us. Now there are some Employments, which take not the Soul entirely up. A workman at his work, or a woman in such concerns as are ordinary to that Sex, will roll about in their Imagination a thousand Chimerical designs, wander up and down every where, and think of an hundred things successively: But what is it, restrains 'em from giving up to God that part of their Soul and Attention, which they deduct from their other work? why will they not think of their Redeemer, of the Obligarions they have to him, and the Acknowledgement and Recollection, which they rather own to him than to a vain chat and conversation, they have had some where or other, or some adventure, the recital of which had diverted them. We are carefully to guard out heart, says a father of the Church, and never to let the thought of God to abandon it, for fear the memory of God's wonderful do should be stifled under the crowd of vain thoughts. We ought to do it in such sort, that by a continual remembrance the thought of the Deity be fixed in us like the indelible impression of a Seal and Wax. This is not so impossible as some at first sight may imagine it; for a Soul truly devout thinks on God not only without any trouble, but frequently without perceiving what lead it to think on him. Thy praise, says holy David, shall be continually in my Mouth-Upon which the same Author, (whom we have occasion for almost every where) makes this Question: How can this be done? Can a man in the midst of humane Affairs and Conversations have the praises of the Lord in his Mouth? When he sleeps, when he drinks, when he eats, and even when he holds his Peace, can he sing the Praises of God? I answer, says he, there is within man an intellectual Mouth, whereby he receives the Word of Life, which is his heavenly Bread; nought hinders him from having always the praises of God in his Mouth: and I say that the thought of God being engraved and (as it were) sealed one the upper part of the Soul, may be called a praise, that never leaves the Heart.  
In short, we cannot conceive how mighty an help to Devotion this is. When we are to seek God a far off, the Soul wanders in the way: but if it holds God always near it, it cannot be to seek for him. O● how easy is it to put the Heart into the steps of Devotion, and the ways of its Saviour, when it never loses the sight of him! If you let a Furnace grow wholly cold, it cannot be heated again without great trouble and cost; but if you take care to keep up the fire with a little refreshing, you will conserve that degree of heat that is necessary to it. If our Soul in like manner relents itself, and makes an interruption from thinking on God, we must take much pains to kindle the Flames of Devotion afresh: and therefore we are ever to keep it in Exercise.  
This continual thinking on God is a most acceptable Sacrifice unto him, like to the morning and evening Sacrifice, which was called also the continual Sacrifice; like to that holy Fire, which evermore burnt ●on the Altar; 'tis like, lastly, to an eternal Invocasion: for so it is, says St. Basil, that thou mayst pray incessantly, not in bringing forth Words of Invocation, but in doing Works of Imitation: If thy Conduct aims only at making thee like and united to God, thy Life will be a perpetual and a constant Prayer. But let us not doubt, that these continual crifices, this Incense always smoking, and these ●plicit and indirect Prayers, which come from our art in all places and at all times, are the most effitious means to render God accessible to us: insomuch, as every time we would unite ourselves still are straight to him by more express Devotions and ●ayers, he will forthwith be found near us, and fill●g us with his Light, will lead us along with him, ●d honour us with his holy-Communications.  

Meditation.  
MAn is very strangely composed; he puts himself to much trouble not to do his Duty, and he neglects easy things because God com●inds them. There's nothing so easy as to think up● God; and nevertheless, nothing is seldomer done. seems as if 'twere impossible not to think on him, ●●ce all Objects that fall under our Senses speak to us the Divinity. Dost not thou see, O my Soul! his ●nes, his Characters, his Traces every where? But est thou not him in thy own Conscience, and is he ●t in the Breast of every one of us? 'Tis easy than ● think on God; yet still it is more sweet than easy. 〈◊〉, my Soul! If thou wert as spiritual, and as much stied from Matter as thou shouldst be, thou wouldst ●●ch thy Delights and sovereign Pleasure from this meditation. This great God, this good God, is the ●●ef Beauty as well as the only Good. My eyes ad●●re the Light of the Sun, the Regularity of his Mo●ons, the Virtue of his Heat, the just and equal Revolutions of the heavenly Bodies. We admire th● Beauty and Wit in Men, whose Force and Elevation appear Angelical unto us: but thou art to know, (〈◊〉 my Soul) that these Beauties do derive from God, and are only feeble Images of him; that the Sun's Light i● mere Darkness in comparison to him; and that the best and most elevated Souls are earthly and grovelling if vied with his Understanding. If thou sawes● him in his Glory thou wouldst be ravished into an Ecstasy, thou wouldst say, It is good for me to be here; 〈◊〉 will build here a Tabernaele. But alas! thou canst no● see him: He is nothing of all thou seest or hast th● sense of: he is not corporeal Light, nor colour for th● Eyes: he is not a Sound nor Voice for thy Ears: h● is no savour for thy Palate, nor an Odour for th● Smelling: in short, he is not a Solid Body to b● touched: thou seest no part of him, yet thou may'st find him whole: think on him, and thy Meditation will make thee hold and possess him. With thy spiri● tual Eyes shalt thou see an intellectual Light, which puts down all the Beauty of visible Light: Thou shal● hear a divine Harmony that surpasses all the charms o● Music: Thou shalt taste such Food, as the Delicacy and Excellency of it is far above all Imagination; an● thou wilt say, Come and taste how good the Lord is. Th● Heart is never so much pleased as when near its Trea● sure: Know, O my Soul, that God is thy true Riche● and Treasure: and therefore run after him continually, seek him ever, and when thou shalt have hold o● him, never leave him nor forsake him. Ought a Wo●man to have a more sweet and comfortable Thought than that of her Husband when he is absent? Thy Ma●ker is thy Husband; thy God hath espoused thee in hi● great Compassions: Art not thou therefore to aspire to possess, and to seek his chaste and divine Embraces. Now thou canst not obtain this Favour but by fixing thy Spirit upon his divine Essence and infinite Perfe●ctions by a perpetual Meditation. Get you far away 〈◊〉 vain Objects, that rob me of the Object of my Love, ●d the sinful Employments, that hinder me from ●●nking on my God.   

Prayer.  
〈◊〉 Seek thee, O my God, be pleased also to seek me, that I may immediately meet with thee. Draw near to 〈◊〉 me, lay thine hand upon my head, for I am in a trance Love. Thou puttest a veil over thy Face; thou hidest ●e most part from me of the beams of thy Glory: because ●eyes are still impure and cannot look upon thee; they ●e weak, they cannot sustain the Brightness and Splendour thy Light. Thou art hid as to thy Creatures, and lettest only have a glimpse of thee: But O Lord, purify my ●es, that they may be able to view thee apparently: put my ●art into thy ways, that I may seek thee and find thee. thou art hidden and estrangest thyself from me, I am on 〈◊〉 other part a strayed sheep, strayed from thee. O be ●ased then to seek me: show thyself to me, and hid 〈◊〉 the light of thy Countenance from me. Recall me from 〈◊〉 wander: and let me not be drawn in by the World ●d the throng of its vain Objects. Tie my Soul to thee the cords of thy Love; So as I may not be one Moment without thinking on thee, and when I put up my prayers to thee, I may ever find thee near me.    

CHAP. VI The first particular Direction: To have our hours of Devotion well chosen and ordered.  
AFter these general Advices, it will be necessary to give some more particular ones: And first, I believe, that to have the hours of Devotion well regulated, is a very great ●p to Devotion. Man is a Creature of Habit as well 〈◊〉 other living Creatures. An Horse that has been used to go one way, will not fail to return that way again, and when the hours of baiting come, he will g● no farther: so the Heart doth, without any guidance or endeavour, return by its self to those things which it has been accustomed to do. Choose then your hour● of Evening, Morning, Midday, at nine of clock, a● three: Make a Law for some time never to let those hours pass, but to consecrate them to no other thing than to Devotion; and without any trouble, you● Heart will return thither at the same hours. Those very Parts, which in us are destitute of Knowledge are capable of these Habits: When the Stomach ha● been used to eat at certain hours, if this be not done it feels somewhat wanting. The Conscience being the Stomach of the Soul, gives it its meals, and if you happen to be wanting, it will advertise you on't: bu● have a care of doing violence to it, and being earnest with it to hold its peace. When it minds you, amidst your Occupations, that the hour is come, do not de● ferr it till another time, for it is undone if you put i● out of order; 'Twill no more remind you; you you● self must be forced to solicit it, and then the Soul i● in a wretchless condition, when the Conscience i● asleep, when the Heart slumbers, and when there i● need of awakening it by an express Reflection.  
If you ask me what hours it is to choose, and how many, I shall perhaps be very much put to it to answer you. Good David orders seven for himself; Seven times a day do I praise thee. Daniel had chief three: Our Lord retired whole Nights together into a Mountain apart to pray. Alas! it were to be wished we could give all out hours to God; but the necessities of Nature, and the infirmities of the Flesh vot● it fruitless;,; and I know not what mood and tempe● those Devotees might be of, who, we are told, pass whole days and nights in Meditation and Contemplation. I will pronounce nothing herein, and I leave every one to his own Conscience. If we cannot give all ●o God, certain it is we are to reserve to him the better part, and that amongst our hours we ought to set some aside, which may be proper to him, and never bestowed upon the World. The number must be regulated according to the diversity of Strengths; and I believe it should increase according to the measure of the progress ●e make in Devotion. A Child cannot lift up a Burden which a vigorous man can carry with ease: so that very one must regulate himself according to his strength. 'Tis good to eat when we are hungry, and 〈◊〉 draw nigh to God when the Heart is warm, and as ●ften as it pleases to do so, there is no reason for a refusal herein. But you are to observe, that if your oppetite be buried, and does not manifest itself, you ●o not fail of having your set Repasts, and rather love 〈◊〉 eat without hunger, than starve yourself for want 〈◊〉 Food. 'Tis the same here; If you are so unhappy as 〈◊〉 be deprived of this holy appetite of Spiritual things, 〈◊〉 not wait till it comes, lose not the hours of your devotions and your Spiritual repasts; eat without hun●er, and perhaps your Appetite will be renewed, No ●an in health, scarcely, but eats twice a day; and ●et sick People we see take nourishment much oftener; 〈◊〉 observe only, that their Repasts are very short and ●●fie. I am of opinion, we ought to order the ●●me Diet to those indisposed Souls which are yet novices in the practice of Devotion. We must ob●●e them to return oft to it, but in short Exercises, ●ut such weak Souls may not take a disgust at it.  
If a Clock be not wound up sometimes a day, it will ●t go long; the weights, that are tied to the ropes, ascending to the Earth, whither, as soon as they are ●●me, the whole Machine stands still. The Soul is ●is wonderful Machine, made up of its Faculties as of Theels and Springs, the weights of the Flesh drawing down. Pull it up often if you would have it go: Lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, They who look to these Automatous Machine's, observe daily to wind them up at the same hours, otherwise they are put out of Order. And this, I say, is to be observed in the conduct of a faithful Soul.  
All hours are good: for Heaven is always open, and God's Throne evermore accessible; yet some there are more proper than others. Those of the Morning are so truly God's, that we cannot rob him of them without Sacrilege. If God will have the first-fruits of our Herds, with much stronger reason he will have the first of our hours: And what time more proper to lift up our Eyes and our Hearts to the Sun of Righteousness, than that wherein the sensible Sun arises upon the Earth? Is it not time then that the Morningstar arise in our hearts, and Prayer open the Gate to Grace? At what hour, with better effect, can we lift up our hearts to God, than at the beginning of a Race, the success where of depends entirely on him? In the morning we ought to seal our hearts with holy thoughts, and fill our minds with chaste and good Ideas, that the Corruption in the World, which the rest of the day will by the Senses give a thousand assaults to our heart, may find it well fortified. This will be a morning-dew, which in falling from Heaven upon our Souls, will make them fruitful in all good works for the rest of the day. This will be an Amulet against the evil air of the World without which we are not to leave our Lodgings, nor expose ourselves to the rencontre of contagious Objects. As God ought to be the first thing in our Hearts, so he must be the last too: for he saith, I am Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. Let him open the door of our thoughts in the morning, and shut it up in the Evening. This will be a Seal which the Devils will respect; though we be disarmed all, while asleep, they will tremble at our sight and will not dare to come near us. The destroying Angel in passing by will reverence this Impression, and this fruit of the Blood of the Lamb. These Evening-Devotions will be an holy Seed cast on good Land, which will not fail to spring up in the morning; since the heart will find it no trouble to begin the present Journey, where it had ended the preceding one. And in as much as 'tis true, that the Soul, abandoned to its self in sleep, is naturally carried to the last Objects of its waking, we need not doubt, but the dreams will be happy, and the Images which arise from those last impressions which Piety had made upon the Heart, will be very sweet ones.  
The night itself is perfectly a friend to Devotion. 'Tis there that recollectings are very easy, the Soul being not dissipated by present Objects. Nothing is sweeter than to fill the heart with God, when void of other things. God is well pleased if a faithful Soul makes an Altar of its bed, and makes him its vows in a retreat where are no witnesses. Let thy body be laid provided thy Soul be elevated and thou fall upon the knees of thy Heart, as Clemens Romanus phrases it. These nightly Communications with God seem more near and strict; since laying ourselves down in our beds we bid farewell to the World, and banish its cares and troubles from us, to give repose to the body. The Soul finds itself in a blessed estate, and at its waking being disengaged from the World, it hath all manner of Liberty to mount up to God. Thus we see, that a great ●●rt of David's Psalms were composed in the night, I will bless the Lord, says he in the sixteenth Psalm, who ●ath given me Counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night ●eason. He assures us in the sixth Psalm, that he waters is bed with his Tears: and the spouse saith, by night I ●ught him whom my Soul loveth. In a word, we learn ●●om History, that Antony the Patriarch of the Hermits ●omplain'd very frequently of the Sun's return, very ●ear in these Terms; Why comest thou, O Sun, to trouble the rest of my Soul? why risest thou so soon to tear me away from the service of my God? why comest thou to rob me of the sight of my true Sun?  

Meditation.  
THE measure of God's love is to have neither measures nor bounds: it is to contain all the degrees of Love. The true rule for the hours of Devotion is to consecrate all our hours to him. This is what thou oughtest to do, O my Soul, but thou canst not. For thou draggest after thee a bodily prison, which is an hindrance to thee. Thy Affections cannot be tamed so far: thou art subject even to worldly necessities, which will not suffer it. How happy wilt thou be then, when thou art in such a place, where thou mayst give up all thy hours to thy Creator and Redeemer. There, being delivered from the bonds of Flesh, thou wilt serve the father of Spirits in perfect Liberty. But now thou dividest thy time betwixt thy Employments, thy Divertisements, thy Repasts, and thy Devotions. But then these four things shall not be distinct; they shall all be blended together. Thy continual occupation shall be to sing the praises of thy God, and to contemplate his Glory. Thy meat and drink shall be to do the will of thy Father which is in Heaven. Thy Pleasure and Divertisement will be in a most intimate enjoyment to possess him who is the Source of all Joy. Thou shalt have no more hours of Devotion; for this fourth thing will be mixed in the three others. Thou shalt be ever all Flame and all Fire for the service of thy God: in this will consisithy chief happiness. wouldst thou then here belowt approach near the Glories of Paradise? multiply and continue, as far as thou canst, thy Commerces and Communications with God. If thou wert always with God God would be always with thee: Now where God is there is Paradise. When thou interest into thy Close with most devout Dispositions, God enters there with thee, and after him a whole troop of Angels, Cherubims, and Seraphims: for he encamps his Angels about them that fear him, and especially at such times as they fear and serve him. No Object is more charming to the Angels, who seek the good and wellsare of Men, than to see a person truly devout falling on his Face to the Earth, bathing his Couch and Bosom in Tears, breathing the most ardent sighs towards Heaven, carrying his Eyes thither, where his heart is, and stretching forth pure hands to God, that he may embrace him. There is Joy in Heaven for one devout Soul as well ●s for one penitent sinner. Wherefore it is, Heaven seems to descend and come down (as it were) to this Spectacle. Labour then, O my Soul, to be ever prastising Devotion, as well as Repentance, that Heaven may be glad, and thy God come often to thee. By these frequent Communications thou wilt become right like the Face of Moses. The rays of that divine Sun will pierce and illuminate thee; they will ba●ish the Darkness out of thee, and melt the Ice and Coldness that makes thee so heavy and neglectful. And ●y beholding him often thou wilt become his Glass, ●nd wilt be changed into the same Image, from Glory 〈◊〉 Glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord.   

Prayer.  
O Sun of my Soul, I seek thee with all my Strength, hid not thyself from me, and suffer no Eclipse; disperse those Clouds which cover and separate thee ●●rn me, and rob me of the view of thy Light. My sins ●confess continually raise thick, filthy, and malign vapours, which may grow into Clouds, and these Clouds afterwards ●●duce the Storms and Thunders of thy severe Justice, 〈◊〉 thou wouldst punish me as I deserve. But from hence ●●●th, O Lord, hinder these Vapours from arising, and dry 〈◊〉 their Source. Let not my Heart be any more as a ●●arsh full of unmoving and putrified Waters, but let it be a living and pure Fountain. Let it be no more an accursed Field abounding in Poisons, but a fertile one in Flowers and Fruits of goodliving, and let none fly up to thee but sweet and kind Exhalations, Prayers and giving of thanks, that may cause a sweet-smelling Savour of atonement. Let those sweet vapours be changed into sweet dews; and let thy Grace, falling upon my Soul like rain upon a thirsty Land, make it to rejoice and flourish and bring forth fruits of Righteousness. Thou art my Light, lighten me in the Darkness of the Night, when I call upon thee in my bed Come and honour me with thy presenceduring the absence of all other Objects, that I may possess thee only, and nothing may rob my Soul of thee. 'Cause the sweetness of this rejoicing to display an heavenly fire in my Eyes, and an holy gaiety over my Countenance, which may accompany me all ways, and defend me from those many troubles and vexations whereunto I am exposed. Let me lie down a● night as in thy bosom, and let me cast myself betwixt th● arms, that I may be afraid of nothing, which is ghastly or terrible in Darkness.    

CHAP. VII. The second particular Help: Solitude and Religious Assemblies.  
WE cannot but own, with a great earnestned of mind, that Devotion requires Solitudy. We have our Master's word and decisi●● in the case. When thou goest to pray, says he, enter in thy closet. Very strange Prayers were those of the Phyrisees, that prayed in the corners of Streets, or in t●● Market-places. Our Lord Christ had good ground 〈◊〉 indict them of Hypocrisy: Solitude is necessary, 〈◊〉 only to avoid that Pomp and Parade which God 〈◊〉 much detests in all things, and especially in Devotion but also to make our Prayer more pure and perfe● How should the Soul, I wonder, be recollected into itself, if a thousand Objects lay hold on the Senses, and draw it abroad? We must therefore be in such a place where we need not defend it against the Assaults which sensual Objects make upon it. Let us retire never so far from the World, we shall be sure to carry enough of the World along with us, and the Images of its Objects will persecute us sufficiently, without being voluntarily exposed to the persecution of the Objects themselves. Yes, the Commerces of the faithful Soul with its God require a secret retiral. Our Lord is its Beloved, who casts not his Favours upon the Crowd, and exposes them not to the sight of men, as St. Bernard says, He loves Shadow and Retreat. And therefore the Spouse will not let him go whom her Soul loveth, until she has brought him into her Mother's house, and into her closet. If we have a design to do any thing wherein is need of Application, we seek a Retreat, that we may not be distracted: We are therefore to seek it for Devotion, since nothing in the World asks a more fixed Consideration. Far from all Witnesses must the truly Devout Person be, to be entirely Free in all respects. Devotion has its Actions and its Words: it impresses its transports and motions upon the Soul, ●nd the Body frequently may have its too; so that it should not be exposed to the view of men, who make so ill Judgements thereof. If these Reasons have need of being upheld by Examples, we have that of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom the Mountains did not seem secret or solitary enough; since he added to them the darkness of the Night: That of Daniel, who shut the door of his Chamber to pray: That of St. Peter, who went upon the Housetop to perform his Devotions: But this Subject is so little disputed, and indeed so little disputable, as we need not dwell upon it longer.  
The necessity of Solitariness for Devotion, may give ●●s more extensive Prospects. There have been many great men, and (I would believe) many great Saints, who have thought Devotion and Solitude were so inseparable, as that not only the truly devout were to set aside some hours of Retreat, but their whole Life ought to be consecrated to it. And 'twas this Sentiment which sometime peopled the Deserts of Thebes, and of Syria, with so many Anchorites. They fled the World to lift up their Souls more easily to God, and to acquire an habit of more pure and ardent Devotion. And hence perhaps might come the very name of Devotion, which is derived from vowing one's self to a thing, because those Christians by a Vow, in a particular manner, consecrated themselves to God.  
'Tis a matter extremely difficult to pronounce upon this sort of Life; I would not condemn all those that follow it. I do not doubt but many were led by the Spirit into the Wilderness, as our Saviour was: but I dare boldly say, that this Estate is subject to as great Temptations as a worldly life is. In my opinion, it's very much to presume on one's own Strength, to go and lie exposed to the strokes of an Enemy so potent as the Devil. In Society, if one falls, another helps him up again, but in the Wilderness he must sustain himself; he must stand upon his own bottom; he must be his own Pastor, Guide, and Director of Conscience: and he that believes he has Light enough to furnish for all these Duties, hath too high an opinion of himself. I would speak here nothing more forcible against this way of living, than what St. Basil himself, a great Lover and Admirer of the Monastic Life, hath writ thereon. He believes that that sort of Life is no more charitable than it is prudent. They have either need of succour themselves, or they are in a condition to give it to others. If they stand in need themselves, 'tis an imprndence to be confined in a place where they can receive none. If they can afford it to others, this is to want Charity, and to rob Society of what might be useful to it. And with good reason he says, that this is to deprive one's self of the Hope to hear, one day, those words from our Lord's Mouth, Thou gavest meat to him that was an hungered, drink to him that was thirsty; thou clothedst him that was naked, and visitedst him that was in Prison. In short, I fear the Remark of this Father in the same place is not over true, that this Life (so far out of the path of Humility) is not a Staircase to Pride: for these men, comparing themselves to themselves, as St. Paul speaks, and seeing nothing more accomplished than themselves, persuade themselves they are Perfect. Every one sees himself too near to know himself well, and does not know himself thoroughly enough to correct himself; and therefore an Anchoret who uses not the eyes of another to examine himself, let's many sins, without doubt, escape him, to which, Judges more severe than we are to ourselves, would not have done that favour. To be brief; I have said that so far is this kind of living from any great use to Devotion, as I believe 'tis an impediment to it: because it is deprived of exercising the Works of Mercy, which are so necessary. A man in the Desert hath his distractions; and if he have not a Soul of an extraordinary temper, 'tis to be feared, they are more dangerous than those met withal in the World. A mind abandoned, without any Guide, makes oftentimes strange slips. The wide World, and a narrow Lowliness, are most assuredly two very dangerous Extremities. There is need of extraordinary Grace to thrive well in either Conditions: so that those who have received indifferent Gifts from Heaven, are to choose a Life that holds the middle betwixt these two Extremes. But, at least, 'tis without Controversy, that Solitude is absolutely necessary at hours destined to Devotion: Which is not to be taken in such a manner as to do any prejudice to holy Assemblies or Public Devotions. They have their Use for Devotion, and under Pretext of praying in our Closet, we are never to deprive ourselves of so necessary an Aid to Piety. True it is, every where else our Senses are enemies to Self-recollection; but there both the Senses and Imagination favour the motions of the devout Soul. The looking upon Churches, which are God's houses, the presence of Angels, who assist in those places; the society of a multitude of Souls that join their Vows as well as their Voices together; the Word of God resounding in our Ears; the Prayers that are united, and being conceived by many hearts, make up but one Vow: All these things extremely help the Soul to make its elevations, and serve very much to banish worldly Ideas, to make holy ones succeed in their stead. Nay, 'tis not impossible too, but that among such a crowd we may conserve Solitude itself. A Soul truly devout, in such places, is so collected into its self, that all the Objects which might do it an injury cannot find it; the faithful Person is in the Closet of his own heart; he leaves no door open but for God's Word, and for things able to instill Piety: but the doors are shut against the vain Objects that are too often to be seen in such places. There is a Spiritual Solitude as well as a Corporeal, says St. Bernard, and that is only in the midst of a throng, which is exempt from vain and frivolous thoughts. But 'tis an horrible Profaneness to have endeavour Dispositions in the Church, to have there an heart open to all Vainities, to go thither to see and to be seen, to hear to get matter to play upon, and to catch at Syllables and Words. How great an account will these People have to make! 'Tis enough sure to have offended man, and God himself, all the days in the Week, there needs no coming on the Sunday to declare War against him in his face. I shall not enlarge here to speak of the manner after which we should act in Religious Assemblies, because I design here only to give Rules for Closet-Devotion.  

Meditation.  
WHere shall I find an happy Solitude, that may be to me an assured Sanctuary against the Persecution of the enemies of my Soul? If I go from the World, I carry it along with me; if I enter into my Closet, I am followed by a crowd of fleshly thoughts, that perfectute me cruelly. When I would save myself in Deserts, and dwell in the Rocks with the Owl and Cormorant, Praetors are there, those griping Cares that would tear and prey upon my Entrails. I should be assailed there by Flocks of Birds, and a multitude of vain and light Thoughts, which would lift me up from myself, to throw me into the World. What must I do to remedy this great Evil? Thou knowest the Remedy, O Lord, I do not know it, do thou teach me. Here below there is no Heaven that can shelter and shroud me from these Tempests; no charms that can lay these Devils, and conjure down these Phantoms of my Imagination. I must make me a new heart; for this is not so much the World's fault as my own. 'Tis not because it pursues me, but for that I have placed it within me, and, which way soever I go, I carry it with me. If my heart were pure and clean, in the midst of Cities and the greatest Assemblies I should find Solitude. My Soul being drawn up into itself would be environed on all sides with a contempt of the World as with a Rampart; The love of God and Godliness would keep the Avenues; They would be a good Guard, and would drive all Objects away which might come to interrupt me, so as I should be always in a place of safety.   

Prayer.  
O Blessed Lord, create in me a clean Heart, purify it from the vain Images of the World, which Sin and Satan have engraved in my Soul: that; under the Wings of thy good Spirit and Love, I may find that Sanctuary against myself, which I seek every where, but find not where. But why, O my God, should not thy Grace, while we are in the flesh, be sufficient to deaden all its motions? why should I have always these Amalekites and Moabites round about me, while I march and advance towards the heavenly Canaan, and the Jerusalem which is above? why have we not here below those Rivers of Grace, and why cannot I have a Flood and Sea to wash my Entrails and cleanse them from these miserable Impurities? It is thy will O God that my Temptations be always near me, and the Philistines be always upon me, that I may watch and not sleep on the lap of Dalila. It is thy will that I have evermore a Thorn in my Flesh, the Messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above Measure. O my Saviour, command that the least Temptation as not seize upon me, which is not common to man; give me an happy success in all my Temptations, and strength to be able to bear them. It is true, thy Grace is sufficient for me: let it not fail me then; let it work its work in the midst of my Infirmities; let it disperse my different thoughts; let it calm the Agitations of my Soul: let it make me to find a Sanctuary, where being far from Noise, Passions, and Affections, I may consecrate to thee my Watch, my Words, and my Thoughts, where I may be able to sing thy Praises Eternally, and celebrate thy divine Majesty.    

CHAP. VIII. The third particular Direction to help Devotion: Meditation, and Prayer.  
THE Soul comes into the World at least as ill instructed in the affairs of Grace as in those of Nature: It is in all respects a plain unscrolled Table, and an Ignorant, which has need to be informed in every thing. Very easily it acquires the Knowledges which are necessary to the Conduct of Life, because those Directions pass to it through the Senses, and these Objects are of its own size: but it hath need of the greatest endeavour to attain those Notices, which regard the Spiritual Life, since those Objects are disproportionate to its Strength; and yet those Enowledges are of absolute necessity to the practising the Virtues, and particularly that of Devotion. This last Virtue is made up of Love and Zeal, but we have not them but according to the degree of our Knowledge: and therefore, I know not of what nature those ignorant Devotions can be which are destitute of all Light, and are not guided but by the Senses: these are, it may be, rather weaknesses of Constitution than effects of Grace. The Devotions of ignorant People are almost ever gross and superstitious; they are ordinarily fixed to sensible Objects; whereas in Religion all is divine and intellectual: the Object of their Worship is mostly an Agnus Dei, a Relic, or an Image: and God, who ought to be the sole Object of our Devotions, has scarce any share in their Veneration. I don't require our Christian to be learned, and that he have preyed either into the Secrets of Nature, or also into the highest mysteries of Grace by an over-exact and curious Research. I hold that that is more disadvantageous than profitable to Devotion: but the devout Soul must be spiritual enough to lift itself up above the Senses by Meditation. Meditation is an excellent Operation of the Soul, whereby it penetrates the outsides of Objects, and sounds them to the very heart: 'tis a reflected Action that rolls its subject upon the Heart till it makes deep Impressions; 'tis an happy Prospect, by which the Soul every moment discovers more and more Wonders in that which it is about: but these Discoveries are not nice Speculations to be communicated to others; they are particular Sentiments and Applications which the Soul makes and which are only for it. We cannot doubt but this is of absolute necessity to Devotion; for this does not embrace its Subject but proportionably as Meditation makes it to enter therein. Devotion is an agitation of a vigorous and lively Soul, whereby we are lifted up to God and to our sovereign Good; and therefore, the more Devotion applies us to this great Object, and lets us see the depths of his Goodness, the more ardent doth Devotion become: so that this is to be the principal Subject of our Contemplations. God is good, either in himself, or in respect had to us; in himself, because he is great, majestic, bounteous, merciful: if we did not partake of the Fruits of these Divine Virtues, nevertheless, God would not cease to possess them, and consequently, he would be infinitely amiable. We cannot think too often on these Attributes of God: this is one of the most efficacious means which David uses to awaken his drowsy Devotion, Awake, O my Tongue, saith he, and thereupon he sings God Almighty's Power in his Works, his Majesty shining forth in the Heavens, his Justice in his Judgements, his Wisdom in the Government of the World, his Mercy towards Man. But, because Interest has so great a sway with us, we are to join to this Consideration that-of-God's Benefits, to descend into the Abysses of his Love, and to consider him in Jesus Christ reconciling the World unto himself: we must essay to dive [if possible it be] into the depths of his Mercy, which are found every where and in all parts of the Dispensation of our eternal Salvation: above all, we cannot fix ourselves too much upon the Passion of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; we shall see there a thousand Objects able to mollify our Soul, since God's Love to Mankind appears there in all it's Extension. From general Considerations it is good to come to particular Applications; We ought to conceive how much we stand indebted to God for freeing us from so many Miseries to raise us up to such glorious hopes: in short, and to speak all in a Word, the Object of our Meditation is as vast as God, Nature, and Grace altogether: for there are no Flowers in the World but we may gather Honey from 'em: we need not fear therefore, that we can drain a Subject of so great a Bigness. But how comes it to pass then our Meditations are frequently so dry, and our Recollections so barren? It is not from the Seed, but from the bad Ground. Whence comes it, saith an Ancient Father, that our Mind is found destitute of good Thoughts, as if there were nothing wellpleasing to God wherewith we could entertain ourselves? This comes not, says he, but from a carelessness of Spirit, for the subject is inexhaustible; and if the Eye cannot reach the end of Wonders to be seen, much less can the Mind attain it in those that are to be conceived: If the Eyes cease to see the Light when it is day, 'tis not for that the Light is extinguished, but it proceeds from the dissipation of the Sight. If you pierce and open a Field in all ●arts with a Ploughshare, it will render you an abundant Harvest, otherwise 'twill continue barren; and even if you penetrate very deep you may find springs of living Water. In like manner, if you open this great Subject, to wit, God and his Works, by profound and frequent Meditations, there will proceed from thence Sources of Consolations and Instructions.  
Lastly, make no difficulty to repass oft upon the same subject for to make it familiar to you. Our Soul is depending upon the Body during the time we are upon Earth, and the most spiritual Ideas are formed in us by bodily motions: so that it is highly useful to let the Thoughts of things divine pass and repass frequently in ourselves, to the intent we may give an Inclination to the Animal Spirits, which may carry 'em that aways, and at length we shall find they will go naturally in that Road, in such sort, as without design, and before we are ware, we shall think on good things. I shall say one Word more for the comfort of those Minds which are not capable either of a piercing Infight or a strong Application: and that is, That they are to be grieved if they do not find themselves forcible enough to drive on their Reasonings so far, and if Conceptions fail them, provided this comes not from any Coldness. Some short, but frequent, Meditations, whereby a faithful Person of the meaner sort does often apply his Mind to the Author of his Salvation and Gods Benefits, may serve instead of long Reflections when one is not capable of them.  
To help Devotion, we are, without doubt, to call in the reading of good Books; for, we must not imagine we can draw all from our own Well: and among those Books the Holy Scripture is as much above all others as God is above Men, and the Sun above the Stars of the sixth Magnitude. This is that Word which is as powerful and piercing as a twoedged Sword; this is that Fire which can warm our Entrails, and make us say, Does not our Heart burn within us? One only Passage in St. Paul (Let us walk honestly as in the day, not in Riotting and Drunkenness, not in Chambering and Wantonness, not in Strife and Envying; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ) wrought the Conversion of St. Austin. In every Page of this Book we shall find God's Benefits, and his excellent Promises so proper to awaken Devotion: we shall find there many Examples of heavenly Meditations, fit to lift up the Soul, and guide us in our own. Especially the Book of Psalms is an inestimable Treasure for devout Souls; and if we could prise it, and say of it beyond what the Ancients did, we could never say enough. 'Twere to be wished, that this Treasure were laid up entirely in our Memory, that every moment we might be able to repeat them to our own Heart. We should, if it were possible, habituate our Mind not to conceive its Thoughts, and form its Meditations, but in the terms which the Holy Ghost useth in the Psalms.  
To the reading of Holy Scripture, it will be profitable to add that of other good Books: and herein I would give a Direction which some People have found very good; which is, to choose such Places and Chapters of Devotion which have once warmed you, and to return often to the same places, that your Heart may get an Habit of awakening itself at that view. 'Tis the ordinary Turn of all Minds to join certain motions of Heart with certain Images, so as that assoon as the Images present 'emselves to the Mind, those motions arise in the Heart: for example, if a Man has run an extreme danger in a Wood, the Image of a Forest will never offer itself to his Imagination, but his Heart is seized upon by some Chillness. So our Heart having been once moved at the reading of some pious Discourse which had touched it to the Quick, will not fail of being awakened at the presence of the same Thoughts, in case we read them with a devout Intention and a design to be touched therewith. This may be compared to what happens to barking Dogs, which are quiet or otherwise as soon as they hear the Voice of those they are acquainted withal: so the Heart being become familiar with those pious thoughts that had moved it oftentimes, will evermore perceive in their Presence very near the same motions: for it is not so with reading in holy Books as in Profane; these please the first time, the second the pleasure ceases, but the third they are most insupportable. The same thing perhaps may happen if you read a Book of Devotion for Divertisement, to see there the neatness of Phrase and the beauty of Thoughts: as this way of reading is for the Mind and not for the Heart, one thing will not please you a second time. This Thought discovers a Mystery to us somewhat obscure, why that which touches some should not have the same influence over others? Now the Reason is, because all do not read with the same Dispositions and the same Intentions. A Preacher, that would preach an hour upon a pious Subject, will read Books which may instruct him therein; but if he has not a Soul naturally very devout, they will have no great effects upon him, because he comes with no Intention to be moved by them; he only seeks for matter to fill up his hour. Our Heart does very near what we would have it do; insomuch, as pious reading, that it may be an help to Devotion, aught to be done with a most devout Intention, without which Condition it will be a very hard matter to make any progress in it.  
But, as much as the reading of good Books brings in Auxiliaries to Devotion, so much it is ruined by the reading of bad ones. 'Tis a great shame to Christianity, that now adays it makes more account of some mischievous Books than ever did the most corrupted Paganism. Our Age, and in particular, this Kingdom, might be justly noted with Infamy for that swarm of Romances which the effeminacy of our Hearts, the corruption of our Minds, and the wiles of the Devil, have sent into the World. We must needs be great Lovers of Lying, since fifty Years have produced more Fables than six thousand Years could produce Histories: and the Church must needs be very much corrupted, to suffer, and (as it were) to authorise such shameless Products, so full of impure Imaginations. Every devout Soul will have those Legends in Detestation; for, certain it is, that nothing puts the Heart into greater Disorder. I wish People be safe from the last Corruption, and they proceed not even to the acting and imitating those irregular Examples in good earnest which they saw before in Jest: however, 'tis sure, that from the reading of these Books the Mind returns loaded with Images, which grieve and drive away the Spirit of God, and which are absolutely inconsistent with the Spirit of Devotion.  

Meditation.  
IF thou art ignorant, O my Soul, in the things which concern thy Salvation, it's wholly thy own fault: Thy God opens two great books before thine Eyes, where thou mayst be taught and instructed in the wonders of Heaven and of thy Salvation. Often have I cast my Eyes upon Nature, upon Heaven, Earth, the Mountains, Rivers, Fields, and Forests: oft have I carried my Eyes to the Planets and to the Stars. But to my confusion, I avow, these Contemplations were barren, done negligently without Application and Reflection. Do that therefore now, O my Soul, which thou hast never done yet: view the Heavens and admire their Greatness and vast Extension; Acknowledge the Greatness of the Maker, his Strength, his Wisdom, his Power: See how he has on purpose painted himself in all places, and left his footsteps wheresoever he hath past. Look upon the Sun, which pours forth so much fire, which men call the Light of the World: This is the Image of Thy God, who is Light himself: In thee is the Well of Life, and in thy Light shall we see Light. That innumerable multitude of fires that burn in the Firmament, is the Emblem of those glorious Souls, which shine in the highest Heaven of the blessed. The rapidity of those vast and prodigious Machine's, which roll over thy head, aught to make thee think of that robust Art which gives them their swing and impresses upon 'em their Motions. The equality and justness of those Motions, as regular as swift, preaches to thee the Wisdom and Evenness of God's Actions, who does nothing but what is just and reasonable. The magnificence of those visible Heavens may without much ado conduct thy Meditation to the thought of another life, and give thee some foretaste and conception of the Glory God prepares for thee in Paradise. Those visible heavens so Splendid, so Beautiful, are but the threshold of that Palace. where God makes ready an abode for thee. Oh my Soul how Rich and Glorious must that house be, whose very Avenues and Entries are so fine and pompous; If from the heavens thou descendest into the Air, which is the region of Storms and Tempests, of Rains and Dews; in the latter thou wilt see the Emblems of God's Favour, and in the former, the Messengers of his Vengeance, and the Instruments of his Fury. The one will lead thee to the Consideration of his Justice, and the other to the Consideration of his Mercy. If thou descendest to the Earth, thou wilt discover almost every where around thee an incredible multitude of sundry Objects, that will instruct thee divers ways: Some as well as the Heavens will speak to thee of God's Wisdom and Power; Others will tell thee of thy own Weakness, and Vanity of Death, and the Necessity of dying, of the Inconstancy of humane things, and will give thee an hundred other Lessons. But all this is nothing to compare with the Knowledge, to be had from the reading of that other book, which God hath dictated to his Prophets and Apostles. 'Tis there thou mayest see the Abysses of the Divine Wisdom, the infinity of his Love, and the depths of his Mercy. Without engaging thyself very deep in these Abysses, what Fruit canst thou not reap from the Death of my Saviour and the Contemplation of his Cross? thou wilt learn there how thou art to love, for that is the School of Love: thou wilt view thy Divine Saviour eaten up with the zeal of God's House, burnt with the Flames of Charity. He so loved the World that he gave himself up to Death for the World; and that to a shameful, cruel, and tormenting death, even that of the Cross. He exposed himself to all the arrows of God's Wrath; he sucked the venom, and underwent the weight of his Indignation, and for whom? for his Enemies. 'Tis thus, O my Soul, thou must Love: This is but a very small part of the things thou mayst learn in that heavenly Book.   

Prayer.  
BUT, O Lord, I read in vain, I meditate without success. O my Sun, infuse thy Rays into my Heart; open mine Eyes, that I may see the wondrous things of thy Law. Make thy Word to be in me like a two edged Sword, piercing even to the dividing of my Soul, my Joints and Marrow. Thy Word is truth, sanctify me by thy Truth. Let my Heart burn within me, when thou speakest, and declarest to me the Scriptures. Let me receive thy word with a thirsty Soul, and let it become unto me a Spring of living Waters bubbling up to Eternal Life, that I may be conducted by the Rivers of thy Grace to the Ocean of Glory.    

CHAP. IX. The fourth particular help to Devotion; The use of Prayer.  
I Do not design here to make any Commendation of Prayer, nor to display all its Uses; which both the Ancients and Moderns have done very Amply. I shall only say, that 'tis one of the surest means to purify the Soul; since there is no Action whereby we approach nearer to God, no time wherein he communicates himself more to us. He hath been very often observed to give his Extraordinary inspirations in Prayer. In praying St Peter fell into an Ecstasy, Paul was ravished to the third Heaven; Cornelius in his Prayers received the Vision of an Angel: Monica St Austin's Mother after her Prayers and Tears for the Salvation of her Son, had in her dream that excellent Revelation of his Conversion. An Angel tells her, Afflict not thyself, thy Son is with thee. As God is the Sun of our Soul, and jets his beams perpendicularly into our Hearts, he must necessarily clarify and heat them; he disperses the vapours of the Inferior part and draws his own Image there. Now this Communication of the Rays of Grace is never made more than in Prayer.  
I shall not stay to examine any further the Conditions with which Prayers should be made to be Devout: it's already shown enough, that they ought to be Attentive, Persevering and Ardent: I shall only give here two Advices, the one to avoid Weariness, the other to avoid Distraction. First I say, that few Souls are capable of long Prayers: For to render a Prayer perfectly devout there's need of an extreme Contention of Mind, an extraordinary Elevation, and an entire loosening ones self from the World. Now these Actions do a kind of Violence to the Soul, which naturally tends to a releasing of itself; and therefore they cannot be of any long Continuance. If we give no relaxation to the Heart, it takes it, and rambles some where or other in spite of our teeth: so as I would have the exercises of Devotion to be long, though divided into little spaces of time; that they have many parts, and each of 'em be short. Devotion is composed of three principal Acts, Reading, Meditation, and Prayer: each of these need not be done presently, so as to follow one another, but they may be mingled: for we must allow some grains to the Souls Weakness, and we must keep it from disgust by variety: A little reading may be the first degree of its Elevation; a little meditation on that reading will lift it a degree higher; and after the reading and meditation, a short Prayer will lead it to the highest degree of forgetting the World: after which, it will return wholly new to reading and Meditation in the same order. In Prayer, it will fly through the Air by the force of its own Wings: and, at its return to reading, it will do like those Birds, that, weary with flying, come to repose themselves, not on the Earth, but some very high Tree of their own choice; so our devout Soul will come to rest itself, not by falling on the Earth, for 'twill never set foot there, nor permit the mind to return to the World; but it will continue elevated upon the Props of the holy Prophets and Apostles; Vr and Aaron will sustain it, lifted up towards the Heaven, and from thence taking its flight, it will by little and little rise upon the Wings of Meditation, until it return by Prayers whither it was first lifted up. This method, undoubtedly, will give it time to renew its strength; it cannot hold out long, if its course be pushed on to the utmost of its vigour; but by taking breath, and marching fairly on from time to time, it will make a very great advance in a day.  
The other Direction I would give, regards those, who having not been busied about the operations of the Mind, are less proper for the great Elevations. These People ordinarily make their Devotions in Prayers pronounced by heart; from which way Distractions are almost inseparable. These I would counsel to endeavour to untie themselves from Words, and hold only to the Sense. I do not mean, that in their Family-Prayers they should dispense themselves from their Forms: I know very well that all the World has not the gift of forming their thoughts, and putting them into an order which may edify the Public; but for the Devotions of the Closet, they are rather to be made by Heart than by the Tongue. When the Imagination does not make some endeavour for the production of its Thoughts and the choice of its Words, in following the beaten Road, which it fears not to lose; it never fails of going somewhither else, as having nothing to do in the place where we would retain it: but when it gives Attention to the manner in which is necessary to express the things which the Heart has conceived, the Heart and the Imagination uniting their Forces make up a complete Attention. I cannot endure to hear some say, That all the World is not capable of composing: all are not able to compose for Men, but to compose for God they are able. Let us make never such Efforts to speak well, we stammer in the Mouth before the Lord: and with relation to God, there can be no other difference betwixt the most eloquent and him that is least so, than between one Child and another. God understandeth all Languages and all Styles; he requires no Order nor Elegance; the most confused Thoughts, that come in a Crowd from the Heart, are often most pleasing to him: he hears the Sighs of the Dumb, he knows what we desire better than we can speak or oftentimes conceive: for, The Spirit of God, as St. Paul says, maketh Intercession for us with Groan, which cannot be uttered. After all, there are none but know what they want, and by consequence, none but can pray; for, Prayer is nothing but a weaving of Desires for those things which we stand in need of for the present Life, the Salvation of the Soul, and the Life to come. The Passions are eloquent, and the Imagination is warmed by its sympathy with the Heart; wherefore, those Persons that excuse themselves upon the smallness of their Light, when they are inflamed with Choler never want Words: and certainly, if their Heart be heated with the Fire of Devotion, the Imagination will be very sensible of it, and they cannot complain of want of Thoughts or Expressions.  

Meditation.  
THou hast never well comprised, O my Soul, how much honour thy God does thee in permitting thee to cast thyself at his Feet; thou art not sensible of this Favour. Thou believest that God does owe thee it for that thou wilt humble thyself before him. Thou remember'st not how dear and scarce are the Audiences before the Kings of the earth, which yet are in the presence of God but a Shadow, a Nothing. The King of Kings is pleased to lend his ear to thee, to hear thee, to secure thee; his Throne is accessible at all times. To approach thither there is no need either of Favour or Friends, or Credit, or painful Solicitations, or troublesome Attending: notwithstanding, what is that Throne, and how great its Magnificence and Glory! Thereon God is seated, environed with a Light whose lustre dazzles the eyes of Seraphims; all around millions of Angels and Arch-Angels falling upon their Faces: on the right hand Rivers of Milk and Honey, which his Children drink of; on the left are Torrents of Fire to devour his Adversaries; on the one side is Hell and Death, and the dreadful Ministers of Divine Vengeance, and on the other Heaven and Paradise, with the glorious Rewards which God prepares for those whom he loves. Thou dost not see this, O my Soul, and therefore thou art the less touched; but thou oughtest to believe it though the Veil of thy Flesh rob thee of the fight. Therefore represent to thyself the Magnificence of that Throne, tremble, admire, and be filled with Gratitude; for that being corrupted by the Commerce thou hast with a miserable Body, abiding in an House of Clay, and having thy Seat in the Dust, thou canst, nevertheless, at all times with liberty present thyself before him who sits upon the Cherubims, who flies upon the Wings of the Wind, who maketh his Angel's Spirits, and his Ministers a Flame of Fire. Thou hast the permission to pray, but thou knowest not how to pray, and that because thou knowest not to love. One intimate Friend never wants things to discourse on to another: when our Heart is perfectly opened to any one, and we have received his Soul into our Breast, we are never short. Alas, my Soul! If thou lovedst thy God perfectly thou wouldst be never weary with entertaining him; never would thy Imagination be congealed, thy Tongue remain speechless, or thou want Words; thy Mouth would pour itself forth like a Torrent, and thy Prayers would roll like a Flame: but thou languishest in thy Prayers, since thou dost not speak to God as thy nearest and best Friend; the barrenness of thy Heart comes from the coldness of thy Love.   

Prayer.  
O Holy Spirit, which art Love itself in the most adorable Trinity, O Spirit of Prayer, make Intercession for me with dumb interrupted Groans, and such as cannot be expressed. Teach me how I ought to pray. I know almost what ought to be the Matter of my Prayers, but I am ignorant how to give them their form. I feel in myself a Chaos of confused Thoughts and Motions, which I cannot unmixe or disentangle: the Light is found blended with Darkness, worldly with heavenly thoughts. O holy spirit, which at the world's beginning didst in the like Chaos draw Light out of Darkness, and Order out of Confusion, stretch forth thy wings upon the wavering waters of my thoughts, and hatch them into well conceived, form, and digested Prayers. Thou makest the dumb to speak, and givest Eloquence to those that are slow of speech: Touch my Tongue with a coal from thy Altar, that my Lips may be purified, my mouth opened, and I may declare thy Praises. Warm my heart, and fill it with devout and pious thoughts, that from the abundance of my heart my mouth may speak. And thou, O Lord Jesus, the Mediator of the new Covenant, our great Highpriest, receive my Prayers as Incense, and carry them before that adorable Throne upon which thy Father sitteth; make them to smoke before him; make them a sweet smelling Odour of Atonement; that these calves of my Lips may be acceptable to him: and because my Offerings are imperfect, cover them with thy perfect Righteousness; obtain, through thy Intecessions, what my Prayers alone would never obtain.    

CHAP. X. The fifth particular help to Devotion: Fasting and Mortification.  
NONE can deny, that Fasting and Mortification are most necessary helps to Devotion, unless they will deny the Scripture, and the Maxims of the Fathers of the Church. The Scripture seldom separates Prayer from Fasting: it gives to both jointly the force of driving away the most dangerous Demons. This kind of Devil goeth not out but by Prayer and Fasting. The Flesh is an headstrong Horse, which we cannot manage but by holding in the Bridle; it's a Lion, which we must not feed so long till he is grown fat, unless we would augment his Cruelty, and cast ourselves into the danger of being devoured by him. The Body (if we mark) is the same Flesh, whereof the Gospel complains so strongly and in so many places: of which 'tis said, that it is an Enemy to God, and its fruits are Debauchery, Strife, Sedition, Murder, Hatred, Envying, Ambition, and Covetousness. So that to hinder the product of these fruits. 'tis good to keep this plant in continual great dryness: for if we besprinkle this root of bitterness with carnal Pleasures, it will shoot up its sprouts on high, and turn us out of the way of our Salvation. As plants, which are very tall, and surmount their Neighbours, leave them in a bad Estate, in sucking all the fatness of the Earth from 'em: so the Flesh grows not fat but at the Expense of the Soul, which it deprives of Comfort, and leaves it in a great bareness of Fruit. A great meal is a very bad preparative for the duties of Piety: we cannot be in the Kitchen and the Closet at the same time: and while the Soul is employed in its Rooms about seething and digesting its Victuals and distributing its Nourishment, it is not in a state to be transported in places destined to Contemplation and Meditation. It lies grovelling beneath thick Clouds and foggy Vapours, which render the heart unfit to lift itself up. The abundance of delicious meats [says a Father] send smoky Exhalations like Clouds that interrupt the Illumination, which is made in the understanding by the Holy Ghost. Wherefore Moses, that he might see God without a Cloud, stayed forty days upon the Mount without eating or drinking, with design that the superior part of his Soul might remain disengaged from Trouble, and the Obscurities of the lower part. Ease and Abundance of Bread cause the sins of Sodom: and Uncleanness of of Life is the consequence of the mouth's Excess. After the use of many delicate meats and drinks, the blood is all over inflamed, which gives a Disposition to all carnal Actions, and an Inclination to worldly Joy, which is ever immoderate. The People sat down to eat and to drink and rose up to play. We must therefore, of absolute necessity, observe the Rules of Sobriety, and nourish the Body only for Life's sake, We must give it what is necessary, and deny it superfluities, that it be never able to rebel against us. And frequently we must retrench, even the necessary things, that we may master it the more: for the Flesh when kept under, contributes much to make the heart contrite; and the less tie the Soul has to the Body, the more easily it lifts itself up to God. When we fast our Devotions are not interrupted by sleep; they are not corrupted by involuntary Motions; they are not vitiated by dishonest Thoughts. In the mean while, touching the practice and use of Fasting, divers advices may be given. First, we are not to hold it for a part of Devotion, and as a worship wherewith we serve God: For the Kingdom of Heaven is neither meat nor drink: it is only an help to Devotion. This first consideration furnishes us with an other: which is, that we use not fasting as Devotion itself; for to fast whilst we are travelling, or about our Employments, is no work of great merit or great use. The first consideration has a third still that springs from it: and that is, that Fasting is not to be employed no farther in Devotion than as it may be an aid to it: and by consequence we cannot give any certain rules either for the Practice, or the Duration of it. Some tempers there are so weak, that fasting is so far from being an help to Devotion, as it may be a great  to it; because it immediately casts the body into a certain negligence, which hinders the Soul from soaring up. Again, there are those can't be tamed but by long mortifications, and these ought not to spare themselves. Others master 'emselves more easily, and these must know themselves; but nevertheless they are to take care that the weakness of their body do not serve for a pretext to dispense themselves from necessary mortifications.  
Yet we cannot approve those cruelties which some use towards the body, in treating it like a declared Enemy, without sparing either Fire or Sword. We put not on here the Spirit of Controversy, we leave every one to his own Conscience. We say only, that although those excesses be not new, they are never the better for all that. Eccesiastical History supplies us with examples enough, I confess, of these extravagant Mortifications: But I had rather stand to the dicision of St. Basil, who is not to be suspected in this cause, since he was a great Associate in Fast and Mortifications However he repeats many times the precept of Mediocrity, and insists very long upon it. He denies his Virgins and his Hermits the use of excessive Mortifications, even to his saving [in the Book of Virginity] that the burden of heavy and excessively pampered Flesh does not bring more encumbrance to the elevation of the Soul, than the weakness of a sick Body, thinned by a long and excessive Mortification. And therefore he expressly orders, That necessity be the rule of Fasting and Abstinence.  
And now follows another necessary Direction upon this Subject; That bodily Mortification and Fasting does not reach to the very bottom of the Soul, nor mortify all sort of Vice. An Ancient said, That the Devil being not able to lay hold or take Possession of a Body mastered by great Mortifications, seizes upon the Soul all naked, and by it, and in it, gins and consummates the carnal Desires. If the Soul without the Body be capable of acting and committing bodily Sins though Mortification be in the way, how shall it heal itself, by this means, of those Diseases which are entirely in it, as Envy, Pride, and Self-love? So we see these Passions reign very often and very imperiously in those Men of Scourges and Sackcloth. This so bloody War which is waged against the Body, and, in appearance, renounces all Self-love, can be no more, in the most part, than a Self-love very delicate, which leads to Glory by extraordinary Paths, that it may arrive there the more surely. From all this, I conclude, that the Mortification which St. Paul requires of us, when he says, Mortify your Members which are upon the Earth, and that which we have judged necessary for Devotion, goes much farther than bodily Mortification. To stifle that Self-love, that Pride, those Jealousies, Harreds, Envyings, and even Ambition and Covetousness, there is need of another sort of Fasting; that is, an Abstinence from all Actions which may nourish those Vices. So I conclude this Chapter with those incomparable Words of the Father, Beware of defining the excellence of Fasting, by a sole Abstinence from Meats and Drinks; for true Fasting consists in abstaining from Evil. Thou dost not eat Flesh, but thou tearest thy Brother in pieces; thou abstainest from Wine, but thou abstainest not from doing Outrage; thou waitest till the Evening to eat, but thou spendest the day in a Law Suit. Woe to those that are drunk, though not with Wine. Anger inebriates the Soul, and, as well as Wine, casts it out of the limits of Reason.  

Meditation.  
THIS of wine, I confess, is a most dangerous Drunkenness, and Gluttony is a most filthy sin. These sins are great Enemies to Devotion: and therefore Fasting, Abstinence and Sobriety are very necessary to secure and nourish Piety. But, O my Soul, take care of thyself, these vices regard the body chief. There is another sort of Drunkenness and Gluttony which immediately concerns the Soul, and is, it may be, still more dangerous: this Drunkenness is Pride, and this Gluttony is Avarice and Ambition. How many Souls do I see in the World made drunk with Vanity and an high Opinion of themselves! They are flyblown with Pride, that all the Earth cannot contain them, they stretch themselves so far and are lift up so high. This Drunkenness causes them to make a thousand Trips and false Steps; their Footings are ever awry and obliqne, like those of drunken Men; they have a great Conceit of their own Wisdom, Prudence, and Strength: all this fails 'em sometimes, they reel, stagger, and at last fall; for Pride comes before Ruin. Examine thyself, O my Soul! see if thou hast not a tincture of this Evil, and if thou be not inebriated with the Thought of thy own Righteousness and thy own Merit. Alas, if thou deniest it thou knowest thyself ill! This is a great Pride, the belief of having none; for, it is to believe thou art worth as much as thou esteemest thyself; but there is no Man but esteems himself more than he is really worth. Thou wilt say to me, perhaps, thou hast an ill Opinion of thyself; but be assured, O my Soul, thou dost not contemn thyself so much as thou art contemptible. If thou contemn thyself, thou makest a Merit of that Contempt, so as there is Pride affixed to the Contempt thou hast of thyself. The other Vice, which is the Gluttony of the Soul, is no less dangerous. View those Men that devour, that are continually laying violent hands on the Prey, and never say, It is enough; those ambitious and covetous Persons, who suck up the Substance of the Poor, who eat up God's People like bread, or who at least labour with an unconceivable desire to enrich and aggrandise themselves; who go to seek the utmost bounds of the World, and yet put no end to their desires, who can mount up to the highest pinnacle of greatness, yet cannot fill the abyss of their Ambition. Have a care, O my Soul, of running into these excesses, for he who hungers after Silver, will never be satisfied with Silver. Quench the fire of thy Avarice; for if thou furnish it with food, thou wilt nourish it: it will devour thy entrails, and peradventure cause such a Flame as will consume both thee and thy Neighbours. I must not then neglect corporal fasting: but the principal one is Humility, that will guard me from the Drunkenness of Pride, and a contentment of Mind, that will make me despise superfluous things, so as I shall be content with those which are necessary. This is the true Sobriety of the Soul: these two virtues walk hand in hand together. Be thou humble, O my Soul, and thou wilt be content with thy Fortune: know how little thou art worth, and thou wilt be persuaded thou hast more than thou deservest.   

Prayer.  
O Lord, make me to know myself, that I am nothing. It is certain that I am nothing: but yet I cannot confess it. My mouth says it, yet my heart doth not agree thereto: and I always feel within me the Devil of Pride, that solicits me, and says to me in a low Voice: senseless as thou art, why speakest thou of thyself with so much scorn? If thou dost not esteem thyself, who shall esteem thee? Are men obliged to have a better Opinion of thee than thou hast of thyself; since thou must needs know thyself better than they can know thee? if I humble myself before thee, O Lord, it is, because I look upon this as of no consequence, by reason of the enormous disproportion there is betwixt thee and me. But with men I keep to great measures, I try to deceive them, and to give them a vast Opinion of myself: I strive to keep up my rank, to be valued, and I can suffer no slight or contempt. O merciful Jesus, who didst humble thyself, even to death, inspire thy Humility into me, and recover me from being overwhelmed with my Pride; so that being persuaded I deserve nothing, I may be evermore content with all thou bestowest upon me; that Godliness and content of mind may be my great gain; so I have as much food and clothing as is sufficient.    

CHAP. XI. Of the rash Judgement which is made of Devout People.  
I HAVE done with the Directions I thought necessary to help Devotion; but before I conclude, I believe there is some Consolation due to truly Devout Persons, of whom so bade a Judgement is made in the World. Some put them all into the rank of Hypocrites; These are our false Devoto's, say the profane, who observe forms so exactly; who are careful to be at all pious Ordinances; who lend so great an attention to a Sermon; who pray and communicate with so many visible marks of Devotion: we are never the less good Christians for our little Affectation, we have what's solid in piety, and they the appearance only. It must be confessed, Hypocrisy doth a great deal of harm to Devotion: I do not deny there are falsely devout People; there's hardly any veil, wherewith evil Consciences cover themselves more ordinarily than with this of Godliness. But because some Hypocrites there be, is it necessary there are none others? Because we find counterfeit Diamonds, can none find true and effective ones? because there are false and foolish fires, is there then no true light? Some indeed believe they have found out a good remedy against this mischief; they affect an apparent Indevotion: for having some zeal at the bottom they imagine 'tis necessary to affect a Way and an Air of indifference to avoid the Accusation of Hypocrisy, but this is to avoid one evil by a greater: and being reduced to the necessity either of committing a Crime, or of being the occasion of one, we are to determine on the latter. We are commanded to make the light of our good Works to shine before men, and to edify our neighbour's by our good Examples. Unhappiness therefore attends them, who put their Candle under a bushel: ●ut [to speak the truth] I believe those that so strenuously endeavour to hid their Devotion, do not hid my great thing from us; they have little enough within. When a Chamber is filled with fire the light appears through the Windows; Piety is a fire that casts its flame through all our virtues, though never so much care be ●aken to conceal it. If the heart be full of godly zeal, it will appear upon the Tongue, in the Hands, and even in the Eyes. True, no affectation is to be used: God hates those pompous and vainglorious Piety's, which expose 'emselves at the corners of Streets, and which wholly consist in the liftings up of the hands, the ●ouling of the Eyes, and a wan and deadish Visage: Devotions the more secret they are, the better: But how easy is it to distinguish Sincerity from affectation. If these profane Judges did but know themselves a little they would not confound a modest Piety and sage Devotion, which shines only through the veil of a profound Humility, with a Devotion made up of Grimaces. The Life, Conversation and Manners are the best touchstone to know the Sincerity of Devotion. If the devout Person is Covetous, Ambitious, one that grows rich at the expense of the Poor, or that is vindicative, I agree we may put such an one in the rank of counterfeits. But if the Life, in all respects, be unreprovable, 'tis a Sin worthy of all the flames in Hell to judge that the Devotion is feigned: 'tis a sort of Sin against the Holy Ghost, like to that which the Pharisees were guilty of against our Saviour, in accusing him that he did through the help of the Devil, what he did by the Finger and Spirit of God. These profane men do the same thing; to the evil spirit of Hypocrisy, they attribute the immediate works of God's Spirit. But say some, though these same devouts appear regular in their Life, it's because they have the Address, Dexterity and Knack not to discover their impurities: the love of their Reputation engaging 'em to use such Precautions as hinder the public from taking notice of their crimes. But is not this to violate all sorts of Rights, to invade even those of God himself, to undertake to see into the Heart? Is it not to violate the asylums of Secrecy, to judge boldly of what doth not appear to the World? Is it not to go against all the rules of good Sense, to judge a man is wicked, because he appears to be good. To conclude, I say, if we were to declare for the Hypocrite, or the profane Libertine, the latter is to be banished rather than the former. The Hypocrite, at least has the moiety of a Christian, though he hath but the least part: his Externals make to Edification, and his false Godliness may enkindle what is true. But the Libertine hath it neither within nor without: he offends God, scandalises his Neighbour; he undoes others as well as himself. I shut up all then with counselling our devout Person to affect nothing, yet to take heed of hiding his Devotion under the Veil of Indifference for the satisfaction of Libertines; to be an exact Frequenter of holy Assemblies; to hear with Attention; to pray with Ardour; not to dispense himself from the external Actions of Humility, but without being excessively given to Appearances. After this, let him set himself above the Judgement of indevout People: God who sees the sincerity of his Heart will reward him, and punish those rash Judges most severely.  

Meditation.  
WHat Extravagance is it to fear more the rash Judgement of Men than the just Judgement of God yet my own Heart reproaches me with this Sin. How oft have I found myself inclined to do Good, and yet have been stopped by a sneaking Shame? I avoid making myself remarkable for Singularity, and therefore generally I follow the Crowd. How oft have I been willing to speak of good things and yet lent an eat to Conversations either vain or sinful? I have not only lent 'em an ear, but I have mixed myself with them. How frequently have I met with profane People, whose Words I detested, so full of Profaneness and Blasphemy; yet I suffered and approved them by my Silence? How many times have I happened to condemn certain sorts of Pleasures ●ntirely, and yet to suffer myself to be engaged in them, not daring to say No. Oh, most pernicious Torrent of Custom! who can have Strength enough to resist thee? Wilt thou never be dried up? Never, till thou shalt have drawn in the children of Eve into that vast and perilous Sea, where even those are scarce able to save themselves who pass over it upon the Wood of the Cross of Jesus Christ. Alas! O my Soul, if thou follow the Crowd thou wilt perish with it: though thou goest to Hell with Company thou wilt be never the less damned: the Society and Multitude of the Unhappy does not diminish their Pains: therefore hunt not after the Approbation and Praise of Men at the expense of thy own Salvation and Conscience; 'tis too dear buying Wind and Smoke. What signifies it what Men think of thee, so God, who seethe thy Heart, judges well of thee? In this World, Sins carry their own Reward, and illustrious Vices are praised: but, comfort thyself in the assurance, Another World will come, wherein every one will have his due. Then the rash Judgements of Men will be nulled by the righteous Judgement of God. The Lord Jesus Christ will confess thee before his Father and the Holy Angels; he will say to thee, Enter, thou good and faithful Servant, into the Joy of thy Lord. In the Presence of Heaven and Earth, Angels and Men, he will rebuke those rash People who are always violating that Commandment of Equity, Judge not, that ye be not judged. Seek then, O my Soul, seek to be approved of God: walk uprightly before him: be not a slave to Custom: conform not thyself to the Manners of this wicked World: think constantly on him in whose Sight thou walkest, and will be the Rewarder of thy Labours, and the Avenger of the Offences and Trespasses thou shalt commit. Keep thyself from the Society of profane People, that thou may'st not be infected with their Contagion; and since thou canst not overcome their ill Habits by thy good Example, take heed, lest their bad Example does not surmount thy good Habits of Virtue.   

Prayer.  
O MY Blessed Redeemer, come to my help. The Stream carries me away; the Torrent hurries me. I do swim, I make endeavours, but am carried on, and engage myself more and more in the flood of Corruption, which runs through the world. I condemn the vanity of Words and Actions, and ill Customs, which are at a distance from Christian Modesty, Simplicity, Sobriety, and Purity. Nevertheless I let myself lose to them. Take me by the right hand, O Lord Jesus, conduct me by thy good Spirit in this rugged and difficult path. The World is a dangerous Sea; it is always beaten with Tempests, and no calm is seen there. It is full of Shelves and Rocks, famous for a prodigious number of Shipwrecks. O Lord Jesus, be thou my Pilot, be thou my North-star in this perilous Navigation, that I may escape so many abysses, which continually open their gaping mouth upon me. Shine upon me in this darksome night, that I may not wander; and that leaving on one hand the paths so beaten and so frequented by Worldlings, I may walk in the Highway, as forsaken and untrod, as I perceive it is; that I may walk in the Ways of Godliness, Righteousness, and Devotion, which thou hast marked out to me; that by those good roads I may advance perpetually in leaving the World and Sin behind me; that I may press toward the mark, for the price of the high calling of God in thee: and that I may at last arrive at that blessed place; at that Haven where I shall be under Covert from all storms; at that Haven where I shall see thy face in Righteousness, where I shall be filled with thy Resemblance, where I shall see thee without end, where I shall possess thee without ever being satisfied, and where I shall be happy to all Eternity.  
THE END.