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A    Serious 
 
 CALL 
 
 T  O    A 
 
 Devout    and    Holy 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 Adapted  to  the  State  and  Condition  of 
 
 All  Orders  of  Chriftians. 
 
 By  WILLIAM  LA IV,  A.  M. 
 
 He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear. 
 
 St.  Luke  viii.  8. 
 
 And  hehold,  I  come  quickly,  and  my  reward  is 
 with  me.  Rev.  xxii.  I2, 
 
 L  0  N  D  0  ti: 
 
 Printed  for  William  Innys,  at  the /^£/? 
 End  of  St.  ^ml's^     M  dcc  xxix. 
 
THE 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 c 
 
 CHAP.     L 
 
 Oncermng  the  Nature  and  Extent  of  ClorU 
 Jiian  Devotion.  Page  i 
 
 C  H  A  P.     IL 
 
 jdf>  Enquiry  into  the  Keafon^  why  the  generality 
 of  Ghriftiansyi//  fo  far  port  of  the  Holinefs 
 and  Devotion  of  Chrijliatnty ^  1 6 
 
 CHAP.     III. 
 
 Of  the  great  danger  and  folly  of  not  intending 
 to  be  as  eminent  and  exeynplary  as  we  can^  i?i 
 the  fraiiice  of  all  Chrijiian  virtues^  2S 
 
 CHAP.    IV. 
 
 We  can  flea fe  God  in  no  fate    cr  condition  of 
 '  life^  but  by  intending  and  deyoting  it  all  to 
 hi^  honour  and  glory ^  ^6 
 
 A  2  CHAP, 
 
The  CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP.    V. 
 
 '-Terfons  that  are  free  from  the  necejftty  of  la^ 
 hour  and  employments^  are  to  confider  them-- 
 felves  as  devoted  to  God  in  a  higher  degree^ 
 
 Page  68 
 
 CHAP.     VI. 
 
 Containing  the  great  obligations^  and  the  great 
 advantages  of  making  a  wife  and  religious  ufe 
 of  our  ejiates  and  fortunes^  79 
 
 CHAP.     VIL 
 
 Hoiv  the  imprudent  ufe  of  an  eftate  corrupts  all 
 the  tempers  of  the  wind^  and  fills  the  heart 
 with  poor  and  ridiculous  pajfions  through  the 
 whole  courfe  of  life  \  reprejented  ih  the  cha^ 
 raBer  of  Flavia.  p2 
 
 CHAP.     VIIL 
 
 HffW  the  wife  and  pious  ufe  of  an  Eftate^  natu^ 
 rally  carrieth  us  to  great  perfection  in  all  the 
 virtues  of  the  Chrifiian  Life  j  reprefented  in 
 the  charaBer  of  Miranda.  103 
 
 CHAP. 
 
The  C  O  N  T  E  N  T  S. 
 
 CHAP.    IX. 
 
 ^U 
 
 Contawlng  fome  refleBlons  upon  the  life  of  Mi- 
 randa ^  and /hewing  how  it  may^  and  ought  to 
 be  imitated  hy  all  her  fex^  Page  up 
 
 CHAR     X. 
 
 Shewing  how  all  orders  and  ranks  of  men  and 
 
 women  of  all  agesj  are  obliged  to  devote  them^ 
 
 felves  unto  God*  130 
 
 CHAP.     XL 
 
 Shewing  how  great  devotion  fills  our  lives  with 
 the  great efi  peace  and  happinefs  that  can  be 
 enjoy' d  in  this  life^  i  ^3 
 
 CHAP.     XII. 
 
 7he  happinefs  of  a  life  wholly  devoted  unto  Gody 
 farther  prov^dy  from  the  vanity,  the  fenfua- 
 lity,  and  the  ridiculous,  poor  enjoyments^ 
 which  they  are  forc'd  to  take  up  withy  who 
 live  according  to  their  own  humours,  This 
 reprefented  in  various  charaSerSy  187 
 
 CHAP.     XIII. 
 
 ^hat  not  only  a  life  of  vanity,  or  fenfuality, 
 hut  even  the  moll  regular  hind  of  life^  that 
 
 is 
 
iv        The  C  O  N  T  E  N  T  S. 
 
 is  not  governed  by  great  devotion,  fii^ctently 
 Jhew J  its  miiJ^ncs J  //*j  wants,  ^Wemptinels, 
 
 to  the  eyes  of  all  the  world.     This  reprefented 
 in  various  charaBerSy  Pag.  207 
 
 CHAP.     XIV. 
 
 Concerning  that  part  of  Devotion  which  relates 
 to  times  and  hours  of  Prayer.  Of  daily 
 €2ix\j  prayer  in  the  morning.  How  we  are  to 
 improve  our  forms  of  Grayer,  and  how  to  in^ 
 creafe  the  fpirit  of  devotion.  228 
 
 CHAP.     XV. 
 
 Of  chanting,  orjinging  of'^falms  in  our  private 
 devotions.      Of  the  excellency   and  benefit  of 
 this  kind  of  devotion.     Of  the  great  effeth  it 
 hath  upon  our  hearts.     Of  the  means  of  per^ 
 forming  it  in  the  beji  manner ,  262 
 
 CHAP.     XVI. 
 
 Recommending  devotion  at  nine  o*cloch  in  the 
 morning,  call'd  in  Scripture  the  third  hour 
 of  the  day.  The  fuhjeSt  of  thefe  prayers  is 
 humility,  288 
 
 CHAP.     XVII. 
 
 Shewing  how  difficult  the  praBlce  of  humility  is 
 made,  by  the  ge^ieral  fpirit  and  temper  of  the 
 
 world. 
 
The  CONTENTS.  v 
 
 world.     How  Chrljiianity  requireth  us  to  live 
 contrary  to  the  world ^  '       Pag.  30^ 
 
 CHAP.     XVIII. 
 
 Shewing  how  the  education  which  men  generally 
 receive  In  their  youths  makes  the  doBrlnes  of 
 humility  dlffictdt  to  he  praByd.     7he  fplrlt 
 of  a  letter  education^  reprefented  In  the  cha^ 
 raBer  of  Paternus,  3  25 
 
 CHAP.    XIX. 
 
 Shewing  how  the  m.ethod  of  educating  daughters, 
 makes  it  difficult  for  them  to  enter  Into  the 
 
 fplrlt  of  Chrljllan  humility.  How  mlferahly 
 they  are  Injured  and  ahus'd  by  fuch  an  educa- 
 tion.    The  fplrlt  of  a  better  education  repre- 
 
 fented  in  the  charaBer  of  Eufebia,  347 
 
 CHAP.     XX. 
 
 Recommending  Devotion  at  twelve  o'Clock^  calTd 
 in  Scripture  the  fixth  hour  of  the  day.  This 
 frequency  of  Devotion  equally  defrahle  by  all 
 orders  of  people.  Univerfal  love  Is  here  re-^ 
 commended  to  be  the  fubjeB  of  prayer  at  this 
 hour.  Of  intercejfiony  as  an  aB  of  univerfal 
 lovey  378 
 
 CHAP. 
 
v;         The  C  O  N  T  E  N  T  a 
 
 CHAP.     XXI. 
 
 Of  the  necejftty  and  benefit  of  Interceflion,  con^ 
 Rder'd  as  an  exerctfe  of  univerfal  love.  How 
 all  orders  of  nien  are  to  fray  and  intercede 
 With  God  for  one  another.  How  naturally 
 fuch  intercejfion  amends  and  reforms  the 
 hearts  of  thofe  that  afe  it^  Page  41 1 
 
 CHAP.    XXII. 
 
 Recom?nending  Devotion  at  three  o'clocky  called  in 
 Scripture  the  ninth  hour  of  the  day.  The 
 ftihjeB  of  prayer  at  this  hotir^  is  refignation 
 to  the  divine  pie af lire,  The  nature  and  duty 
 of  conformity  to  the  will  of  God  in  all  our  a3i^ 
 ons  and  dejignsy  435> 
 
 CHAP.    XXIIL 
 
 Of  Evening  prayer.  Of  the  nature  and  necejftty 
 of  examination.  How  we  are  to  be  particular 
 in  the  confejfion  of  all  our  fins.  How  we  are 
 to  fill  our  minds  with  ajufi  horror  and  dread 
 of  allfiny  ^59 
 
 CHAP.     XXIV. 
 
 The  Conclufion.  Of  the  Excellency  and  Great^ 
 nefs  of  a  devout  Sprit y  4^* 
 
 A  SERI- 
 
SERIOUS    CALL 
 
 T  O     A 
 
 Devout  and  Holy  Life. 
 
 CHAP.    L 
 
 Concerning  the  Nature  and  Extent  of  Chrtjltan 
 Devotion, 
 
 EvoTioN  IS  neither  prU 
 vate  nor  puhlick  Prayer,  but 
 Prayers  whether  private  or 
 publick,  are  particular  parts 
 or  inftances  of  Devotion.  De-^ 
 votion  fignifies  a  life  given, 
 
 or  devoted  to  God, 
 
 He  therelbie  is  the  devout  man,  who  lives 
 no  longer  to  his  own  will^  or  the  way  zndJpH 
 rit  of  the  world,  but  to  the  ible  will  of  God, 
 who  confiders  God  in  every  thing,  who  ferves 
 
 B 
 
 God 
 
5  A  Serious  Call 
 
 God  in  every  thing,  who  makes  all  the  parts? 
 of  his  common  life,  parts  of  piety,  by  doing 
 every  thing  in  the  name  of  God,  and  under 
 fuch  rules  as  are  conformable  to  his  Glory. 
 
 We  readily  acknowledge,  that  God  alone 
 is  to  be  the  rule  and  mealiire  of  our  ^rayersy 
 that  in  them  we  are  to  look  wholly  unto  him, 
 and  act  wholly  for  him,  that  we  are  only  to 
 pray  in  Juch  a  manner^  for  fuch  things^  and 
 Juch  ends  as  are  fuitable  to  his  Glory. 
 
 Now  let  any  one  but  find  out  the  reafon  why 
 he  is  to  be  thus  ftriftly  pious  in  his  prayers, 
 and  he  will  find  the  fame  as  ftrong  a  reafon  to 
 be  as  ftriftly  pious  in  all  the  other  parts  of  his 
 life.  For  there  is  not  the  leaft  fhadow  of  a 
 reafon,  why  we  ftiould  make  God  the  rule 
 and  meafure  of  our  prayers,  why  we  fhould 
 then  look  wholly  unto  him,  and  pray  accor- 
 ding to  his  will^  but  what  equally  proves  it 
 neceffary  for  us  to  look  wholly  unto  God,  and 
 xnake  him  the  rule  and  meafure  of  all  the 
 other  aftions  of  our  life.  For  any  ways  of 
 life,  any  employment  of  our  talents,  whether 
 of  our  fartSj  our  time  or  money ^  that  is  not 
 JirlBly  according  to  the  will  of  God,  that  is 
 not  for  fuch  ends  as  are  fuitable  to  his  Glory, 
 are  as  great  abfirditles  TindfaiUngSy  as  prayers 
 that  are  not  according  to  the  will  of  God. 
 For  there  is  no  other  reafon,  why  our  prayers 
 ftiould  be  according  to  the  will  of  God,  why 
 they  fhould  have  nothing  in  them,  but  what 
 is  wify  and  holy  and  heavenly ^  there  is  no  o- 
 ther  realbn  for  this,  but  that  our  liyes  may  be 
 
 of 
 
to  a  De<voHt  and  Holy  Life.  5 
 
 of  the  fame  nature,  full  of  the  fame  wlfdomy 
 hoTmefs  and  heavenly  tempers,  that  we  may 
 live  unto  God  in  the  fame  fpint  that  we  pray 
 unto  him.  Were  it  not  our  ftriil  duty  to  live 
 by  reajbuj  to  devote  all  the  actions  of  our  lives 
 to  God,  were  it  not  ablblutely  neceflary  to 
 walk  before  him  in  wildom  and  holinefs  and 
 all  heavenly  converlation,  doing  every  thing 
 in  his  name,  and  for  his  glory,  there  would  be 
 no  excellency  or  wildom  in  the  moft  heavenly 
 frayers.  Nay,  fuch  prayers  would  be  abfur- 
 dities,  they  would  be  like  Prayers  for  wlmsj 
 when  it  was  no  part  of  our  duty  to  fly. 
 
 As  fure  therefore  as  there  is  any  wifdom  in 
 praying  for  the  Spirit  of  God,  lb  lure  is  it, 
 that  we  are  to  make  that  Spirit  the  rule  of  aU 
 our  adions ;  as  lure  as  it  is  our  duty  to  look 
 zvholly  unto  God  in  our  Prayers,  fo  liire  is  it, 
 that  it  is  our  duty  to  live  wholly  unto 
 God  in  our  lives.  But  we  can  no  more 
 be  laid  to  live  unto  God,  unlefs  we  live  unto 
 him  in  all  the  ordinary  adions  of  our  life, 
 unlefs  he  be  the  rule  and  meafure  of  all  our 
 ways,  than  we  can  be  laid  to  pray  unto  God, 
 unlefs  our  Prayers  look  zvholly  unto  him.  So 
 that  unreaibnable  and  abfurd  ways  of  life, 
 whether  in  labour  or  dlverjion^  whether  they 
 confume  our  tlnie^  or  our  money ^  are  like  un- 
 reaibnable and  abiurd  Prayers,  and  are  as  truly 
 an  offence  unto  God. 
 
 'Tis  Ibr  want  of  knowing,  or  at  leaft  con- 
 fidering  this,  that  we  fee  fuch  a  mixture  of 
 
 B  2  Ridicule 
 
M  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Ridicule  in  the  lives  of  many  People.  Yon 
 fee  them  ftrift  as  to  fome  times  and  places  of 
 Devotion,  but  when  the  Service  of  the  Church 
 is  over,  they  are  but  like  thofe  that  feldom 
 or  never  come  there.  In  their  way  of  Life, 
 their  manner  of  fpending  their  time  and  mo- 
 ney^  in  their  cares  ^nd  fears ^  in  Xhcix  pie afures 
 and  indulgences^  in  their  labour  and  diverfions, 
 they  are  like  the  reft  of  the  world.  This 
 makes  the  loofe  part  of  the  world  generally 
 make  a  jeft  of  thofe  that  are  devout^  becaufe 
 they  fee  their  Devotion  goes  no  farther  than 
 their  ^rayersj  and  that  when  they  are  over, 
 they  live  no  more  unto  God,  till  the  time  of 
 Prayer  returns  again  ^  but  live  by  the  fame 
 humour  ^nd  fancy ^  and  in  as  full  an  enjoyment 
 of  all  the  follies  of  life  as  other  People.  This 
 is  the  realbn  why  they  are  the  jeft  and  fcorn 
 of  carelefs  and  worldly  People ;  not  becaufe 
 they  are  really  devoted  to  God,  but  becaufe 
 they  appear  to  have  no  other  Devotion,  but 
 that  of  occaftonal  'Trayers. 
 
 yu/ius  is  very  fearful  of  miffing  Prayers ;  all 
 the  Parifh  fuppofes  Julius  to  be  fick,  if  he  is 
 not  at  Church.  But  if  you  was  to  ask  him 
 why  he  fpends  the  reft  of  his  time  by  humour 
 and  chance?  why  he  is  a  companion  of  the 
 lillleft  People  in  their  moft  Jilly  pleafures  ? 
 why  he  is  ready  for  every  impertinent  enter- 
 tainment and  diverfion.  If  you  was  to  ask 
 him  why  there  is  no  amufement  too  trifling 
 to  pleafe  him  ?  why  he  is  bufy  at  all  balls  and 
 ajpemblies  ?  why  he  giyes  himfelf  up  to  an  idlff 
 
to  a  De^GUt  and  Holy  Life.  ^ 
 
 gojjip'wg  converfation  ?  why  he  lives  in  foo- 
 lifh  friendfhips  and  fondnels  for  particular  per- 
 ibns,  that  neither  want  nor  delerve  any  par- 
 ticular kindncls?  why  he  allows  himlelf  in 
 foolifh  hatreds  and  relentments  againft  parti- 
 cular perfons,  without  confidering  that  he  is 
 to  love  every  body  as  himlelf?  if  you  ask 
 him  why  he  never  puts  his  converfation^  his 
 timc^  and  fortune^  under  the  rules  of  Religi- 
 on, ^Julius  has  no  more  to  fay  for  himfelf, 
 than  the  moft  dilbrderly  Perfon.  For  the 
 whole  tenor  of  Scripture  lies  as  direftly 
 againft  fuch  a  life,  as  againft  debauchery  and 
 intemperance:  He  that  lives  in  liich  a  courfe 
 of  idlencfs  and  folly ^  lives  no  more  according 
 to  the  Religion  of  Jefus  Chrift,  than  he  that 
 lives  in  gluttony  and  intemperance. 
 
 If  a  man  was  to  tell  yulius  that  there  was 
 no  occafion  for  i^o  much  conftancy  at  Prayers , 
 and  that  he  might,  without  any  harm  to  him- 
 felf,  negleft  the  fervice  of  the  Church,  as  the 
 generality  of  People  do,  yulius  would  think 
 fuch  a  one  to  be  no  Chriftian,  and  that  he 
 ought  to  avoid  his  company.  But  if  a  perlbn 
 only  tells  him,  that  he  may  live  as  the  genera- 
 lity of  the  world  does,  that  he  may  enjoy 
 himfelf  as  others  do,  that  he  may  fpend  his 
 time  and  money  as  People  of  fiftiion  do,  that 
 he  may  conform  to  the  follies  and  frailties  of 
 the  generality,  and  gratify  his  tempers  and 
 pinions  as  moft  People  do,  yulius  never  ful- 
 peds  that  man  to  want  a  chriftian  fpirit^  or 
 that  he  is  doing  the  devil's  work* 
 
 B  3  And 
 
S  A  Serious  Call 
 
 And  yet  if  yiilius  was  to  read  all  the  New 
 Teftament  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  he 
 would  find  his  courfe  of  hfe  condemned  in  eve-r 
 ry  page  of  it. 
 
 And  indeed  there  cannot  any  thing  be  ima- 
 gined more  abfurd  in  it  felf,  than  w'tje  and 
 fuhlme^  and  heavenly  Prayers  added  to  a  life 
 of  vanity  and  folly ^  where  neither  labour  nor 
 dtverjions  neither  time  nor  7noney^  are  under 
 the  direction  of  the  wifdom  and  heavenly 
 tempers  of  our  Prayers.  If  we  were  to  fee  a 
 man  pretending  to  aft  wholly  w^ith  regard  to 
 God  in  every  thing  that  he  did,  that  would 
 neither  fpend  time  or  money,  or  take  any  la- 
 bour or  diverfion,  but  lb  far  as  he  could  aft 
 according  to  ftrift  principles  of  reafon  and 
 piety,  and  yet  at  the  fame  time  negleft  all 
 ^rayer^  v/hether  publick  or  private,  lliould 
 we  not  be  amaz'd  at  ilich  a  man,  and  w^ondcr 
 how  he  could  have  fo  much  folly  along  with 
 fo  much  religion  ? 
 
 Yet  this  is  as  reafonable  as  for  any  perfon 
 to  pretend  to  ftriclnefs  in  Devotion^  to  be  care- 
 ful of  obferving  times  and  places  of  Prayer, 
 and  yet  letting  the  reft  of  his  life,  his  time 
 and  labour^  his  talents  and  money  be  difpofcd 
 of  without  any  regard  to  ftrift  rules  of  Piety 
 and  Devotion.  For  it  is  as  great  an  abiiirdity 
 to  fuppofe  holy  Prayers,  and  divine  Petitions, 
 without  an  holinefs  of  life  fuitable  to  them, 
 as  to  fuppofe  an  holy  and  divine  life  without 
 Prayers. 
 
to  a  Vcjoiit  and  Holy  Life.  7 
 
 Let  any  one  therefore  think,  how  eafily  he 
 could  confute  a  man  that  pretended  to  great 
 ftridnefs  of  Life  without   Prayer,     and  the 
 fame  Arguments  will  as  plj^f  ^Y/^f  "!,^  ;'^°- 
 ther,that    pretends  ^o  fntUefs  oi^  ^>rayer , 
 without  carrying  the  lame  ftridneis  mto  every 
 other  part  of  life.     For  to  be  w-eak  and_  foo- 
 lilh  in  fpending  our  tme  and  fortune,   is  no 
 greater  a  miftake,  than  to  be  weak  and  foo- 
 lilh  in  relation  to  our  Prayers.     Andto  allow 
 our  felves  in  any  ways  of  life  that  neither  are, 
 nor  can  be  oiFer'd  to  God,  is  the  feme  irreli- 
 gion  as  to  neglea  our  Prayers,  or  uie  them  m 
 Lh  a  manner,  us  makes  them  an  offering  un- 
 worthy of  God.  .        vu      D». 
 
 The  Ihort  of  the  matter  is  this,  either  Rea- 
 fon  and  Religion  prefcribe  r«/^.f  and  ends  to  ail 
 the  ordinary  adions  of  our  life,  or  they  do 
 not-  If  they  do,  then  it  is  as  neceffary  to  go- 
 vern all  our  aaions  by  thofe  rules,  as  it  is  ne- 
 ceflary   to  worlhip   God.      For   if   Religion 
 teaches  us  any  thing  concerning   eatmg  and 
 drinking,  or  fpending  our  time  and  money,   il 
 it  teaches  us  how  we  are  to  tije  and  contemn 
 the  world,  if  it  tells  us  what  tempers  we  are 
 to  have  in  common  life,    how  we  are  to  be  dil- 
 pofed  towards  all  people,    how  we  are  to  be- 
 have towards  the  fck,  the  foor,  the  o/d  and 
 dcftitute;  if  it  tells  us  whom  we  are  to  treat 
 with  a  particular  love,   whom  we  are  to  re- 
 gard with  a  particular  efteem;    if  it  tells  us 
 how  we  are  to  treat  our  enemies,  and  how  w-e 
 are  to  mortify  and  deny  our  felves,  he  muft 
 
 B  4  ^^ 
 
8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 be  very  weak,  that  can  think  thefe  parts  of* 
 Rehgion  are  not  to  be  obfcrv'd  with  as  much 
 exa^i}frfT'^'~-9LS  any  doctrines  that  relate  to 
 Prayers. 
 
 It  is  very  obfervable,  that  there  is  not  one 
 command  in  all  the  Golpel  for  '^ubUck  JVor- 
 JJjip ;  and  perhaps  it  is  a  duty  that  is  leaft  in- 
 filled upon  in  Scripture  of  any  other.  The 
 frequent  attendance  at  it  is  never  fo  much  as 
 mentioned  in  all  the  New  Teftament.  Where- 
 as that  Religion  ox  Devotion  which  is  to  govern 
 the  ordinary  anions  of  our  life,  is  to  be  found 
 in  almoft.  every  verfe  of  Scripture.  Our  blcf- 
 ftd  Saviour  and  his  Apoilles  are  wholly  taken 
 up  in  Doctrines  that  relate  to  common  life. 
 They  call  us  to  renounce  the  world,  and  dif- 
 fer in  every  temper  and  way  of  life,  from  the 
 fpirit  and  way  of  the  world.  To  renounce 
 all  its  goods,  to  fear  none  of  its  evils,  to  re- 
 jeft  its  joys,  and  have  no  value  for  its  happi- 
 nefs.  To  be  as  new  horn  bahes^  that  are  born 
 into  a  new  ftate  of  things,  to  live  as  Pilgrims 
 in  fpiritual  watching,  in  holy  fear,  and  hea- 
 venly afpiring  after  another  life.  To  take  up 
 our  daily  crols,  to  deny  our  lelves,  to  profeis 
 the  bleffednefs  of  mourning,  to  feek  the  blel- 
 fedneis  of  poverty  of  Ipirit.  To  forlake  the 
 pride  and  vanity  of  Riches,  to  take  no  thought 
 for  the  morrow,  to  live  in  the  profoundctt 
 State  of  Humility,  to  rejoice  in  worldly  fuf- 
 ferings.  To  rejed  the  luft  of  the  fiefJi,  the 
 luft  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life ;  to 
 bear  injuries,  to  forgive  and  blels  our  ene- 
 mies, 
 
to  a  7)e^out  and  Holy  Life.  9 
 
 tnies,  and  to  love  mankind  as  God  loveth 
 them.  To  give  up  our  whole  hearts  and  af- 
 fections to  God,  and  ftrive  to  enter  through 
 the  ftrait  gate  into  a  life  of  eternal  Glory. 
 
 This  is  the  common  Devot'wn  which  our  Blet- 
 fed  Saviour  taught,  in  order  to  make  it  the 
 common  life  of  all  Chriftians.  Is  it  not  there- 
 fore exceeding  ftrange,  that  People  fhould 
 place  fo  much  piety  in  the  attendance  upon 
 publick  worfhip,  concerning  w^hich  there  is  not 
 one  precept  of  our  Lord's  to  be  found,  and 
 yet  negleft  thefe  common  duties  of  our  ordi- 
 nary life,  which  are  commanded  in  every  Page 
 of  the  Gofpel  ?  I  call  thefe  duties  the  devo- 
 tion of  our  common  life^  becauie  if  they  are  to 
 be  practised,  they  muft  be  made  parts  of  our 
 common  life,  they  can  have  no  place  any  where 
 elfe. 
 
 If  contempt  of  the  world,  and  heavenly  af- 
 fection, is  a  neceffary  temper  of  Chriftians,  it 
 is  neceiTary  that  this  temper  appear  in  the 
 whole  courfe  of  their  lives,  in  their  manner  of 
 ufing  the  world,  becaufe  it  can  have  no  place 
 any  where  elfe. 
 
 If  felf-denial  be  a  condition  of  falvation, 
 all  that  would  be  laved,  muft  make  it  a  part 
 of  their  ordinary  life.  If  humility  be  a  chri- 
 ftian  duty,  then  the  common  life  of  a  Chri- 
 ftian,  is  to  be  a  ccnftant  courie  of  humility 
 in  all  its  kinds.  If  poverty  of  /p'lrit  be  necei- 
 fary,  it  muft  be  the  fpirit  and  temper  of  eve- 
 ry  day  of  our  lives.  If  we  are  to  relieve  the 
 naked,  the  fick,  and  the  prifoner,  it  muft  be 
 
 thg 
 
I  o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 the  common  charity  of  our  lives,  as  far  as  wc 
 can  render  our  felves  able  to  perform  it.  If 
 Avc  are  to  love  our  enemies^  we  muft  make  our 
 common  Hfe  a  vifible  exercife  and  dcmonftra- 
 tion  of  that  love.  If  content  and  thankful^ 
 nefs^  if  the  patient  bearing  of  evil  be  duties 
 to  God,  they  are  the  Duties  of  every  Day, 
 and  in  every  circumftance  of  our  life.  If  we 
 are  to  be  wile  and  holy  as  the  new-born  fons 
 of  God,  we  can  no  otherwife  be  fo,  but  hj 
 renouncing  every  thing  that  is  foolifh  and  vain 
 in  every  part  of  our  common  life.  If  we  are 
 to  be  in  Chrift  new  creatures^  we  muft  fliew 
 that  we  are  fo,  by  having  flew  ways  of  living 
 in  the  v;orld.  If  we  are  to  follow  Chrift,  it 
 muft  be  in  our  common  way  of  Ipending  every 
 day. 
 
 Thus  it  is  in  all  the  virtues  and  holy  tem- 
 pers of  Chriftianity,  they  are  not  ours  unlefs 
 they  be  the  virtues  and  tempers  of  our  ordi- 
 nary life.  So  that  Chriftianity  is  fo  far  from 
 leaving  us  to  live  in  the  common  ways  of  life, 
 conforming  to  the  folly  of  cuftoms,  and  grati- 
 fying the  paflions  and  tempers  which  the  fpi-^ 
 Tit  of  the  world  delights  in,  it  is  fo  far  from 
 indulging  us  in  any  of  thefe  things,  that  all 
 its  virtues  which  it  makes  neceflary  to  falva- 
 tion,  are  only  fo  many  ways  of  living  above, 
 and  contrary  to  the  world  in  all  the  common 
 adions  of  our  life.  If  our  common  life  is  not 
 a  common  courfe  of  htimtlity^  Jelf-denialj  r<f- 
 nunciation  of  the  world,  pverty  of  Ipirit,  and 
 
 heavenly 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.         1 1 
 
 heavenly  affeftion,  wc  don't  live  the  lives  of 
 Chriftians. 
 
 But  yet  though  it  is  thus  plain,  that  this 
 and  this  alone  is  Chriftianity ,  an  uniform 
 open  and  vifible  praftice  of  all  thele  virtues, 
 yet  it  is  as  plain,  that  there  is  little  or  no- 
 thing of  this  to  be  found,  even  amongtt  the 
 better  Ibrt  of  People.  You  fee  them  often  at 
 Church,  and  pleas'd  with  fine  preachers,  but 
 look  into  their  lives,  and  you  fee  them  juft 
 the  fame  fort  of  People  as  orhers  are,  that 
 make  no  pretences  to  devotion.  The  differ 
 rence  that  you  find  betwixt  them,  is  only  the 
 difference  of  their  natural  tempers.  They 
 have  the  lame  tafie  of  the  world,  the  fame 
 worldly  cares^  and  fears^  and  joys^  they  have 
 the  fame  turn  of  mind,  equally  vain  in  their 
 defires.  You  fee  the  fame  fondnefs  for  Jiate 
 and  equipage^  the  lame  pride  and  vanity  of 
 drefs^  the  fame  J  elf-love  and  indulgence^  the 
 fame  foolifhyr/V;?^/y2?//?j,andgroundlels  hatreds^ 
 the  fame  levity  of  mind,  and  trifling  Ipirit, 
 the  fame  fondnefs  for  diverfions,  the  fame  idle 
 difpofitions,  and  vain  ways  of  fpending  their 
 time  in  vifiting  and  converfation,  as  the  reft 
 of  the  world,  that  make  no  pretences  to  de- 
 votion. 
 
 I  don't  niean  this  comparifon  betwixt  Peo- 
 ple fcemingly  good  and  profcft  rakes j  but  be- 
 twixt People  of  fober  lives.  Let  us  take  an 
 inftance  in  two  modeft  Women  :  let  it  be  fup- 
 pofed,  that  one  of  them  is  careful  of  times 
 of  Devotion,  and  obferves  thern  thro'  a  fenfe 
 
 of 
 
12  A  Serious  Call 
 
 of  duty,  and  that  the  other  has  no  hearty  con- 
 cern about  it,  but  is  at  Church  feldom  or  oft- 
 en, juft  as  it  happens/  Now  it  is  a  very  ea- 
 fy  thing  to  fee  this  difference  betwixt  thefe 
 perfons.  But  w^hen  you  have  feen  this,  can 
 you  find  any  farther  difference  betwixt  them  ? 
 Can  you  find  that  their  common  life  is  of  a  dif- 
 ferent kind?  Are  not  the /■^;72/?<?rj,  znA  cujioms^ 
 and  manners  of  the  one,  of  the  fame  kind  as 
 of  the  other?  Do  they  live  as  if  they  belong- 
 ed to  different  worlds,  had  different  views  in 
 their  heads,  and  different  rules  and  meafures 
 of  all  their  aftions  ?  Have  they  not  the  fame 
 goods  and  ev'tJs^  are  they  not  pleafed  and  dif^ 
 plealed  in  the  J'ame  manner^  and  for  the  fame 
 things  ?  Do  they  not  live  in  the  lame  courfe  of 
 life  ?  Does  one  feem  tobe  of  this  w^orld,  look- 
 ing at  the  things  that  are  temporal,  and  the 
 other  to  be  of  another  world,  looking  wholly 
 at  the  things  that  are  eternal  ?  Does  the  one 
 live  in  plealiire,  delighting  her  lelf  mjl^ew  or 
 drefsj  and  the  other  live  in  JeJf-denia I  ^nd  inor^ 
 tijication^  renouncing  every  thing  that  looks 
 like  vanity  either  of  j:^^r/^/2,  drefs^  or  carriage? 
 Does  the  one  follow  publick  diver jions^  and  trifle 
 away  her  time  in  idle  vifits,  and  corrupt  con-^ 
 verlation,  and  does  the  other  ftudy  all  the  arts 
 of  improving  her  time,  living  in  Prayer  and 
 Watching,  and  fuch  good  works,  as  may  make 
 all  her  time  turn  to  her  advantage,  and  be  pla- 
 ced to  her  account  at  the  lail  day  ?  Is  the  one 
 carelefs  of  expence,  and  glad  to  be  able  to  a- 
 dorn  her  felf  with  eyery  coftly  ornament  of 
 
 drefs, 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.         1 3 
 
 drels,  and  does  the  other  confider  her  fortune 
 as  a  talent  given  her  by  God,  which  is  to  be 
 improved  religioufly,  and  no  more  to  be  Ipent 
 in  vain  and  needlels  ornaments,  than  it  is  to 
 be  buried  in  the  earth  ? 
 
 Where  muft  you  look,  to  find  one  Perfon  of 
 Religion  differing  in  this  manner,  from  ano- 
 ther that  has  none  ?  And  yet  if  they  do  not 
 differ  in  thefe  things  which  are  here  related, 
 can  it  with  any  fenfe  be  laid,  the  one  is  zgood 
 Chriftian,  and  the  other  not  ? 
 
 Take  another  inftance  amongft  the  men. 
 Leo  has  a  great  deal  of  good  nature,  has  kept, 
 what  they  call,  good  company,  hates  every- 
 thing that  is  falje  and  haje^  is  very  generous 
 and  brave  to  his  friends,  but  has  concerned 
 himfelf  fo  little  with  Religion,  that  he  hardly 
 knows  the  difference  betwixt  a  yew  and  a 
 Chri/iian. 
 
 Eufeblus  on  the  other  hand,  has  had  early 
 impreffions  of  Religion,  and  buys  books  of 
 Devotion.  He  can  talk  of  all  the  feajls  and 
 f^Jis  of  the  Church,  and  knows  the  names  of 
 moft  men  that  have  been  eminent  for  Piety. 
 You  never  hear  him  fwear,  or  make  a  loofe 
 jeft,  and  when  he  talks  of  Religion  he  talks 
 of  it,  as  of  a  matter  of  the  laft  concern. 
 
 Here  you  fee,  that  one  perfon  has  Religion 
 enough,  according  to  the  w^ay  of  the  world, 
 to  be  reckoned  a  ptous  Chrlliian^  and  the  other 
 is  lb  far  from  all  appearance  of  Religion,  that 
 he  may  fairly  be  reckoned  a  Heathen  ;  and  yet 
 if  you  look  into  their  common  life^  if  you  ex- 
 amine 
 
1 4  A  Serious  Call 
 
 amine  their  cb/ef  and  ruling  tempers  in  the 
 grcatcft  articles  of  hfe,  or  the  o^rccitc^  dotfnnes 
 of  Chriftianity,  you  will  find  the  leaft  diffe- 
 rence imaginable. 
 
 Confidcr  them  with  regard  to  the  ufe  of 
 the  world,  becaufe  that  is  what  every  body 
 can  fee. 
 
 Now  to  have  right  notions  and  tempers  with 
 relation  to  this  world,  is  as  effential  to  religion, 
 as  to  have  right  notions  of  God.  And  it  is  as 
 poffiblc  for  a  man  to  worfhip  a  Crocodile^  and 
 yet  be  a  pious  man^  as  to  have  his  affe6tions 
 fet  upon  this  world,  and  yet  be  a  good  Chri-- 
 Jiian. 
 
 But  now  if  you  confider  Leo  and  Eufehius 
 in  this  relped,  you  will  find  them  exaftly  alike, 
 feeking^  ujing^  and  enjoyirig  ail  that  can  be  got 
 in  this  world  in  the  fame  manner,  and  for  the 
 fame  ends.  You  will  find  that  riches^  profpe-^ 
 rity^  pkaJureSy  indulgences^  Jiate^  equipage ^  and 
 honour  are  juft  as  much  the  happinels  of  Eufe^ 
 lius  as  they  are  of  Leo.  And  yet  if  Chrifti- 
 anity  has  not  changed  a  man's  mind  and  tem- 
 per with  relation  to  thefe  things,  what  can  we 
 lay  that  it  has  done  for  him? 
 
 For  if  the  dodrines  of  Chriftianity  were 
 praftifed,  they  would  make  a  man  as  different 
 from  other  People  as  to  all  worldly  tempers, 
 fenjlml  pleafures,  and  the  pride  of  life,  as  a 
 Wife  man  is  different  from  a  natural  \  it  would 
 be  as  eafie  a  thing  to  know  a  Chriftian  by  his 
 outward  courfe  of  life,  as  it  is  now  difficult  to 
 fiiad  any  body  that  liyes  it.     For  it  is  notorious 
 
 that 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.         1 5 
 
 that  Chriftians  are  now  not  only  like  other 
 men   in    their  frailties   and   uijinnities^    this 
 might  be  in  Ibnie  degree  exculable,  but  the 
 complaint  is,  they  are  like  Heathens  in  all  the 
 main  and  chief  articles  of  their  lives.     They 
 enjoy  the  world,  and  live  every  day  in  the 
 fame  tempers,  and  the  fame  defigns,  and  the 
 fame  indulgences  as  they  did  who   knew  not 
 God,    nor  of  any  happinefs    in  another  life. 
 Every  body  that  is  capable  of  any  reflexion, 
 muft  have  obferv'd,   that  this  is  generally  the 
 ftate  even  of  devout  People,  whether  men  or 
 women.     You  may  fee  them  different  from  o- 
 ther  People  fo  far  as  to  times  and  places  of 
 Prayer,    but  generally   like  the   reft   of  the 
 world  in   all   the   other   parts  of  their  lives. 
 That  is,  adding  Chrijilan  Devotion  to  an  Hea^ 
 then  life :  I  have  the  authority  of  our  Bleffed 
 Saviour  for  this  remark,  where  he  fays,  take 
 no  thought^  fiy'^^^S.  '^h at  f jail  we  eat^    or  what 
 Jhall  we  drhik^    or    wherewithal  fhall  we  be- 
 cloathed?  for  after  all  thefe  things  do  the  Gen- 
 tiles feek.     But  if  to  be  thus  affefted  even  with 
 the  neceffary  things  of  this  life,  fhews   that 
 we  are  not  yet  of  a  Chrijiian  Spirit^  but  are 
 like  the  Heathens^  furely  to  enjoy  the  vanity 
 and  folly  of  the  world  as  they  did,  to  be  like 
 them  in  the  main  chief  tempers  of  our  lives, 
 in  lelf-love  atid  indulgence,    in  fenfual   plea- 
 fures  and  diverfions,  in  the  vanity  of   dr^s, 
 the  love  of  fhew  and  greatnefs,  or  any  other 
 gaudy    ciftindions  of  fortune,    is     a    much 
 greater  lign  of  an  Heathen  temper.     And  con- 
 
 fequently 
 
J  6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 lequently  they  who  add  Devotion  to  fuch  a 
 life,  muft  be  laid  to  fray  ^,s  ChriJiianSj  but 
 live  as  Heathens. 
 
 CHAR    II. 
 
 jin  Enquiry  into  the  Reajbuy  why  the  generality 
 of  Chriftians  fall  Jo  far  port  of  the  HoUnefs 
 and  Devotion  of  Chrijlianity. 
 
 IT  may  now  be  reafonably  enquired,  how 
 it  comes  to  pafs,  that  the  lives  even  of 
 the  better  fort  of  People  are  thus  ftrangely 
 contrary  to  the  principles  of  Chriftianity. 
 
 But  before  I  give  a  dired  anfwer  to  this,  I 
 defire  it  may  alfo  be  enquired,  how  it  comes 
 to  pafs  that  Jwearing  is  i^o  common  a  vice 
 amongll  Chriftians  ?  It  is  indeed  not  yet  ib 
 common  amongft  women ^  as  it  is  amongft  men. 
 But  amongft  men  this  fin  is  fo  common,  that 
 perhaps  there  are  miore  than  two  in  three  that 
 are  guilty  of  it  through  the  whole  courfe  of 
 their  lives,  fwearing  more  or  lefs^  juft'  as  it 
 happens  ,  fome  conftantly,  others  only  now 
 and  then,  as  it  were  by  chance. ,  Now  I  ask 
 how  comes  it,  that  two  in  three  of  the  men 
 are  guilty  of  lb  grofs  and  prophane  a  fin  as  this 
 is?  There  is  neither  ignorance  nor  human  in-» 
 fumity  to  plead  for  it :  It  is  againft  an  ex-* 
 
 preli 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        1 7 
 
 prefs  commandment,  and  the  moft  plain  Do- 
 ftrine  of  our  blefTcd  Saviour. 
 
 Do  but  now  find  the  rcalbn  why  the  gene- 
 rality of  men  live  in  this  notorious  vice,  and 
 then  you  will  have  found  the  reafon,  why  the 
 generality  even  of  the  better  Ibrt  of  People, 
 live  fo  contrary  to  Chriftianity. 
 
 Now  the  rcalbn  of  common  fwearing  is 
 this ;  it  is  becaufe  men  have  not  lb  much  as 
 the  intention  to  fleaje  God  in  all  their  anions. 
 For  let  a  man  but  have  fo  much  piety  as  to 
 intend  to  fleaje  God  in  all  the  atlions  of  his  lifey 
 as  the  happieji  and  beji  thing  in  the  worlds  and 
 then  he  w^ill  never  fwear  more.  It  will  be  as 
 impofliblc  for  him  to  fwear,  whiift  he  feels 
 this  intention  within  himfelf,  as  it  is  impofli- 
 ble  for  a  man  that  intends  to  pleafe  his  Prince, 
 to  go  up  and  abufe  him  to  his  face. 
 
 It  fcems  but  a  fmall  and  neceflliry  part  of 
 piety  to  have  llich  a  ftncere  intention  as  this  ; 
 and  that  he  has  no  rcalbn  to  look  upon  him- 
 felf as  a  Difciple  of  Chrift,  who  is  not  thus 
 far  advanced  in  piety.  And  yet  it  is  purely 
 for  want  of  this  degree  of  piety,  that  you  fee 
 luch  a  mixture  of  fin  and  folly  in  the  lives 
 even  of  the  better  Ibrt  of  People.  It  is  for 
 ^vant  of  this  intention^  that  you  ice  men  that, 
 profefs  religion,  yet  live  in  fwearing  and  Jen'- 
 Juality  ;  that  you  Ice  Clergymen  given  to  pride 
 and  covetoulnefs  ,  and  worldly  enjoy mcnts* 
 It  is  for  want  of  this  intention^  that  you  fee 
 women  that  profefs  Devotion,  yet  living  in  all 
 the  folly  and  vanity  of  drej]^   waiting  their 
 
 C  time 
 
1 8  A  SerioHT  Call 
 
 time  in  idlcnefs  and  pleufureSy  and  in  all  fuch 
 inftances  of  ftate  and  equipage  as  their  eftates 
 will  reach.  For  let  but  a  woman  feel  her 
 heart  full  of  this  intention^  and  Ihe  will  find  it 
 as  impoffible  to  patch  or  painty  as  to  curfe  or 
 fvvear  ;  Ihe  will  no  more  defire  to  Ihine  at 
 Balls  and  JJfemhlies^  or  make  a  figure  amongft 
 thofe  that  arc  moft  finely  drels'd,  than  ftie 
 will  defire  to  dance  upon  a  Kope  to  pleafe  Spe- 
 ftators :  She  will  know,  that  the  one  is  as  far 
 from  the  wtfdom  and  excellency  of  the  Chriftian 
 Spirit,  as  the  other. 
 
 It  was  this  general  intention^  that  made  the 
 primitive  Chrijiians  fuch  eminent  inftances  of 
 piety,  that  made  the  goodly  fellowfliip  of  the 
 JalntSj  and  all  the  glorious  army  of  martyrs 
 and  coytfejfors.  And  if  you  will  here  flop, 
 and  ask  your  felf,  why  you  are  not  as  pious 
 as  the  primitive  Chriftians  were,  your  own 
 heart  will  tell  you,  that  it  is  neither  through 
 Ignorance  nor  hiahlUty^  but  purely  becanfe  you 
 never  thoroughly  intended  it.  You  obferve  the 
 fame  Stmday-worjhip  that  they  did ;  and  you 
 are  Jlri3  in  it,  becaufe  it  is  your  full  intention 
 to  be  ib.  And  when  you  as  fully  intend  to 
 be  like  them  in  their  ordinary  common  life, 
 when  you  intend  to  pleale  God  in  all  your 
 cciions^  you  will  find  it  as  poffible,  as  to  be 
 ftridly  exad  in  the  fervice  of  the  Church. 
 And  when  you  have  this  intention  to  pleafe 
 God  in  all  your  attions^  as  the  happiefi  and  heft 
 thing  in  the  world^  you  will  find  in  you  as 
 great  an  ayerfion  to  every  thing  that  is  avin 
 
 and 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life,        ip 
 
 and  impertinent  in  common  life,  whether  of 
 bufincfs  or  pleafure,  as  you  now  have  to  any 
 thing  that  is  prophane.  You  will  be  as  fearful 
 of  living  in  any  foolilh  way,  either  of  fpend- 
 ing  your  time^  or  your  fortune^  as  you  are 
 now  fearful  of  negleding  the  publicfc  Wor- 
 fliip. 
 
 Now  who  that  wants  this  general  fincere 
 intention^  can  be  reckoned  a  Chriftian  ?  And 
 yet  if  it  was  amongft  Chriftians,  it  would 
 change  the  whole  face  of  the  world  ;  true  pie- 
 ty, and  exemplary  holinefs,  would  be  as  com- 
 mon and  vilible,  as  buying  and  fellings  or  any 
 trade  in  life. 
 
 Let  a  Clergyman  but  be  thus  pious^  and  he 
 will  converfe  as  if  he  had  been  brought  up  by 
 an  Apoflle^  he  will  no  more  think  and  talk  of 
 nolle  preferment^  than  of  noble  eatings  or  a  glo^ 
 rious  chariot.  He  will  no  more  complain  of 
 the  frowns  of  the  world^  or  a  fmall  cure^  or 
 the  want  of  a  patron^  than  he  will  complain 
 of  the  want  of  a  lac'd  coat^  or  a  running  horfe^ 
 Let  him  bur  i?2tend  to  plcafe  God  in  all  his  aBi- 
 cnsy  as  the  happiejr  and  beji  thing  in  the  worldy 
 and  then  he  will  know,  that  there  is  nothing 
 nohle  in  a  Clergyman,  but  a  burning  zeal  for 
 the  lalvation  of  Ibuls;  nor  any  thing  poor 
 in  his  profeiiion,  but  idlenefs  and  a  worldly 
 Spirit. 
 
 Again,  let  a  ^radefman  but  have  this  inten- 
 tion^ and  it  will  make  him  a  faint  in  his  fhop  ; 
 his  every-day  bufinels  will  be  a  courfe  of  wile 
 and  reaibnable  adions,  made  holy  to  God,  by 
 
 C  2  being 
 
^o  A  ^cTioMs  Call 
 
 being  done  in  obedience  to  his  will  and  plea- 
 lure.  He  will  hay  and  fell^  and  labour  and 
 travel,  becaufe  by  lb  doing  he  can  do  Ibme 
 good  to  himlelf  and  others.  But  then,  as- no- 
 thing can  pleafe  God  but  what  is  wile,  and 
 realbnable,  and  holy,  fo  he  will  neither  buy, 
 nor  Icll,  nor  labour  in  any  other  manner^  nor 
 to  any  other  end^  but  luch  as  may  be  fhewn 
 to  be  w'lfe^  and  reafonable^  and  holy.  He  will 
 therefore  confider,  not  what  arts,  or  methods, 
 or  application  will  Iboneft  make  him  richer 
 and  greater  than  his  brethren,  or  remove  him 
 from  2ipop  to  a  life  of  fiate .and  fleafure-^-  but 
 he  will  confider  what  arts ,  what  methods, 
 what  application  can  make  worldly  bufinefs 
 moll  acceptable  to  God,  and  make  a  life  of 
 trade  a  life  of  holinefs,  devotion  and  piety. 
 This  will  be  the  temper  and  fpirit  of  every 
 tradefman  \  he  cannot  Hop  fliort  of  thefe  de- 
 grees of  piety,  whenever  it  is  his  Intent  ion  to 
 fleafe  God  In  all  his  aEHonSy  as  the  hefl  and  ha f^^ 
 fiejl  thing  hi  the  zvorld. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  whoever  is  not  of 
 this  fpirit  and  temper  in  his  trade  and  profef- 
 jion^  and  does  not  carry  it  on  only  lb  far  as  is 
 beft  lubfervient  to  a  wife  and  holy  and  hea- 
 venly life;  it  is  certain  that  he  has  not  this 
 intention^  and  yet  without  it,  who  can  be  Ihewn 
 to  be  a  follower  of  Jefus  Chrift? 
 
 Again,  let  the  Gentleman  of  birth  and  for- 
 tune but  have  this  intention^  and  you  will  lee 
 how  it  will  carry  him  from  every  appearance  of 
 evil,  to  every  inftance  of  piety  and  goodneis. 
 
 He 
 
to  a  De^oJtt  and  Holy  Life.         2  i 
 
 He  cannot  live  by  chance^  or  as  humour  and 
 fcincy  carries  him,  becaufc  he  knows  that  no- 
 thing can  pleafe  God  but  a  wile  and  regular 
 courle  of  life.  He  cannot  live  in  idkjiefs  and 
 indulgencf^  m  f ports  and  gaming^  in  plealures 
 and  intemperance,  in  vain  expences  and  high 
 living,  becaufe  thele  things  cannot  be  turned 
 into  means  of  piety  and  holinels,  or  made  1lo 
 many  parts  of  a  wife  and  religious  life. 
 
 As  he  thus  removes  from  all  appearance  of 
 evil,  fo  he  haftcns  and  afpires  after  every  in- 
 itance  of  goodncls.  He  does  not  ask  what  is 
 allowable  and  pardonable^  but  what  is  comment 
 dable  and  pralfe^worthy.  He  does  not  ask 
 whether  God  will  forgive  the  folly  of  our  lives, 
 the  7nadnefs  of  our  pleafures,  the  vanity  of  our 
 expences,  the  richnefs  of  our  equipage^  and  the 
 carelels  conlumption  of  our  time ;  but  he  asks, 
 whether  God  is  pleated  w^ith  thefe  things,  or 
 Uhether  thele  are  the  i.ippointed  ways  of  gai- 
 ning his  favour.  He  does  not  enquire,  whe- 
 ther it  be  pardonable  to  hoard  up  money,  to 
 adorn  ourlclves  with  diamonds,  and  gild  our 
 chariots,  whilft  the  wldozv  and  the  orphan^ 
 thtJick^inAthQ prlpmer  w^nt  to  be  relieved; 
 but  he  asks,  whether  God  has  required  thefc 
 things  at  our  hands,  whether  we  fhall  be  caird 
 to  account  at  the  laft  day  for  the  negled  of 
 them;  becaufe  it  is  not  his  intent  to  live  in 
 fuch  ways  as,  for  ought  we  know,  God  may 
 p^erhaps  pardon,  but  to  be  diligent  in  liich 
 ways,  as  we  know,  that  God  will  Infallibly 
 reward. 
 
 C  3  He 
 
a^  A  Serious  Call 
 
 He  will  not  therefore  look  at  the  lives  of 
 Chriftians,  to  learn  how  he  ought  to  fpend  his 
 eftate,  but  he  will  look  into  the  Scriptures, 
 and  make  every  doBr'me^  parable^  freceptj  or 
 inftnS'wn  that  relates  to  rich  men,  a  law  to 
 himfelf  in  the  ule  of  his  eftate. 
 
 He  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  coftly  ap- 
 parel, becaufe  the  rich  man  in  the  Gofpel  was 
 cloathed  with  purple  and  fine  linnen.  He  denies 
 himfelf  the  pleajures  and  indulgences  which  his 
 eftate  could  procure,  becaufe  our  bleffed  Savi- 
 our faith,  Wb  unto  you  that  are  rich^  for  ye 
 have  received  your  confolation.  He  will  have 
 but  one  rule  for  charity,  and  that  will  be,  to 
 fpend  all  that  he  can  that  way,  becaufe  the 
 judge  of  quick  and  dead  hath  faid,  that  all 
 that  is  fo  given,  is  given  to  him. 
 
 He  will  have  no  hoj pit  able  table  for  the  rich 
 and  wealthy  to  come  and  feaft  with  him  in 
 good  eating  and  drinking ;  becaufe  our  blef- 
 fed Lord  faith.    When  thou  maheft  a  dinnery 
 call  not  thy  friends^  nor  thy  brethren^  neither 
 thy  hinfmen^  nor  thy  rich  7ieighbours^  left  they 
 alfo  bid  thee  again^  and  a  recompence  be  made 
 thee.     But  when  thou  make  ft  a  feaji^   call  the 
 poor^    the  maimed^    the   lame^    the 
 \t\ti^      ^/i;^^,  and  thou  jh alt  he  blefed.     For 
 they  cannot  recon^ence  thee^  for  thou 
 fhalt  be  recompenfed  at  the  refurreBion  of  the 
 jufi. 
 
 He  will  wafte  no  money  in  gilded  roofs,  or 
 coftly  furniture  :  He  will  not  be  carried  from 
 pleafure  to  pleafure   in   expenfive   ftate   and 
 
 equipage, 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  2  3 
 
 equipage,  becaufe  an  infpir'd  Apoftle  hath 
 laid,  that  ^11  that  Is  in  the  world^  the  lafi  of 
 theJJeJJj^  the  lufi  of  the  eyes^  and  the  fr'ide  of 
 life^  is  not  of  the  Father^  but  is  of  the  world. 
 
 Let  not  any  one  look  upon  this  as  an  ima- 
 ginary defcription  of  charity,  that  looks  fine 
 in  the  notion,  but  cannot  be  put  in  pradice. 
 For  it  is  lb  far  from  being  an  imaginary  im- 
 prafticable  form  of  life,  that  it  has.  been  pra- 
 ftiled  by  great  numbers  of  Chriftians  in  for- 
 mer ages,  who  were  glad  to  turn  their  whole 
 eftates  into  a  conftant  courfeof  charity.  And 
 it  is  ib  fir  from  being  impoflible  now,  that  if 
 we  can  find  any  Chriftians,  that  fincerely  in- 
 tend  to  pleafe  God  in  all  their  aBions  as  the  beji 
 and  happiefi  thing  in  the  worldj  whether  they 
 be  young  or  old,  fingle  or  married,  men  or 
 women,  if  they  have  but  this  intention^  it 
 will  be  impoflible  for  them  to  do  otherwife. 
 This  one  principle  will  infallibly  carry  them  to 
 this  height  of  charity,  and  they  will  find 
 themfelves  unable  to  flop  fhort  of  it. 
 
 For  how  is  it  poffible  for  a  man  that  in» 
 tends  to  pleafe  God  in  the  ufe  of  his  money^ 
 and  intends  it  becaufe  he  judges  it  to  be  his 
 greatejl  haffinefs^  how  is  it  poflible  for  fuch  a 
 one  in  fuch  a  ftate  of  mind,  to  bury  his  mo- 
 ney in  72eedlefs  impertinent  finery,  in  covering 
 himfelf  or  his  horfes  with  gold,  whilft  there 
 are  any  works  of  piety  and  charity  to  be 
 done  with  itj  or  any  ways  of  fpending  it 
 ivell, 
 
 C  4  This 
 
^  A  A  Serious  Call 
 
 This  is  as  ftriclly  impofTible,  as  for  a  man 
 that  intends  to  pleafc  God  in  his  words^  ^ogo 
 into  company  on  purpoie  to  J  wear  and  lye. 
 For  as  all  wafte  and  unreafonable  expcnce  is 
 done  dejignedly^  and  with  deliberation^  lb  no 
 one  can  be  guilty  of  it,  whofe  con fr ant  tnten^ 
 tion  is  to  pleale  God  in  theufeof  his  money, 
 
 I  have  chofe  to  explain  this  matter,  by  ap- 
 pealing ta  this  intention^  becaufe  it  makes  the 
 cafe  fo  plain,  and  becaufe  every  one  that  has 
 a  mind,  may  fee  it  in  the  cleareft  light,  and 
 feel  it  in  the  ftrongeft  manner,  only  by  looking 
 into  his  own  heart.  For  it  is  as  eafy  for  eve- 
 ry perfon  to  know,  whether  he  intends  to 
 plcafe  God  in  all  his  actions;  as  for  anyy^r- 
 z;^;;/' to  know,  whether  this  be  his  intention 
 towards  his  mafler.  Every  one  alfo  can  as  ea- 
 fily  tell  how  he  lays  out  his  money,  and  whe- 
 ther he  confiders  how  to  pleale  God  in  it.  as 
 he  can  tell  where  his  cftate  is,  and  whether 
 it  be  in  7nc7iey  or  land.  So  that  here  is  no  plea 
 left  for  ignorance  ox  frailty^  as  to  this  matter 
 every  body  is  in  the  light,,  and  every  body  has 
 fewer.  And  no  one  can  fail,  but  he  that  is 
 not  fo  much  a  Chriftian  as  to  intend  to  pleafc 
 God  in  the  ufe  of  his  eftate. 
 
 You  fee  two  perfons,  one  is  regular  in  pah^ 
 lick  and  private  Prayer,  the  other  is  not.  Now 
 the  reafon  of  this  difference  is  not  this,  that 
 one  has  Jlrength  and  pozver  to  obferve  Prayer, 
 and  the  other  has  not;  but  the  reaibn  is  this, 
 that  one  intends  to  pleaje  God  in  the  duties  of 
 Devotion;,  and  the  other  has  no  intention  a- 
 
 bout 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.         a  5 
 
 bout  it.  Now  the  cafe  is  the  lame  in  the 
 right  or  wrong  uie  of  our  time  and  money. 
 You  fee  one  perlon  throwing  away  his  time  in 
 Jlecp  and  idlenefs^  \nvi fifing  and  diverJions^Tind 
 his  money  in  the  moft  vain  and  unrcaibnable 
 expcnces.  You  lee  another  careful  of  every 
 day,  dividing  his  hours  by  rules  of  realbn 
 and  Religion,  and  fpending  all  his  money  in 
 works  of  charity;  now  the  difference  is  not 
 owing  to  this,  that  one  has  ftrength  and  pow- 
 er to  do  thus,  and  the  other  has  not;  but  it  is 
 owing  to  this,  that  one  intends  to  flenfe  God 
 in  the  right  ufe  of  all  his  time  and  all  his 
 money ^  and  the  other  has  no  intention  about 
 it. 
 
 Here  therefore  let  us  judge  our  felves  fin- 
 cercly,  let  us  not  vainly  content  our  felves 
 with  the  common  dilbrders  of  our  lives,  the 
 vanity  of  our  expences,  the  jolly  of  our  di- 
 verfions,  the  fride  of  our  habits,  the  idlenefs 
 of  our  lives,  and  the  wafting  of  our  time^ 
 fancying  that  thele  zx^fuch  imperfetfions  as  we 
 fail  into  thro'  the  unavoidable  weaknefs  and 
 frailty  of  our  natures ;  but  let  us  be  aflured, 
 that  thefe  dilbrders  of  our  ccnmon  life  are 
 owing  to  this,  that  wx  have  not  fo  much 
 Chriftianity,  as  to  intend  to  pleafe  God  in  all 
 the  actions  of  our  life^  as  the  heft  and  happiefi 
 thing  in  the  world.  So  that  we  muft  not  look 
 upon  our  felves  in  a  ftate  of  common  and 
 pardonable  imperfeAion,  but  in  fuch  a  ftate, 
 as  wants  the  frfi  and  raofi  fundamental  prin- 
 ciple 
 
^5  A  Serious  Call 
 
 ciple  of  Chriftianity,':;/,^.  an  intention  to  f  leaf e 
 God  in  all  our  aBions. 
 
 And  if  any  one  was  to  ask  himfelf,  how  it 
 comes  to  pafs,  that  there  are  any  degrees  of 
 fobricty  which  he  neglefts,  any  praBices  of 
 humility  which  he  wants,  any  method  oi  cha- 
 rity which  he  does  not  follow,  any  rules  of  re- 
 deeming time  which  he  does  not  obferve,  his 
 own  heart  will  tell  him,  that  it  is  becaufe  he 
 never  inte^ided  to  be  fo  exaft  in  thofe  duties. 
 For  whenever  we  fully  intend  it,  it  is  as  poC- 
 fible  to  conform  to  all  this  regularity  of  life, 
 as  'tis  pofTible  for  a  man  to  obferve  times  of 
 Prayer. 
 
 So  that  the  fault  does  not  lie  here,  that  we 
 defire  to  be  good  and  perfeft,  but  thro'  the 
 weaknefs  of  our  nature  fail  Ihort  of  it ;  but  it 
 is,  becaufe  wx  have  not  piety  enough  to  intend 
 to  be  as  good  as  we  can,  or  to  pleafe  God  in 
 all  the  aBions  of  our  life.  This  we  fee  is  plainly 
 the  cafe  of  him  that  fpends  his  time  in/ports^ 
 when  he  fliould  be  at  Church ;  it  is  not  his 
 want  of  power,  but  his  want  of  intention^  or 
 defire  to  be  there. 
 
 And  the  cafe  is  plainly  the  fame  in  every 
 other  folly  of  human  life.  She  that  fpends 
 her  time  and  money  in  the  unreafonable  ways 
 and  falhions  of  the  world,  does  not  do  fo,  be^ 
 caufe  Ihe  wants  power  to  be  wife  and  religious 
 in  the  management  of  her  time  and  money, 
 but  becaufe  flie  has  no  intention  or  defire  of  be- 
 ing fo.     When  fhe  feels  this  intention,   ftie 
 
 will 
 
to  a  De<voHt  and  Holy  Life.         iy 
 
 will  find  It  as  pofiible  to  ad  up  to  it,  as  to  be 
 ftriftly  foher  and  chajie^  becaufe  it  is  her  care 
 and  defire  to  be  lb. 
 
 This  dodrine  does  not  fuppofe,  that  we 
 have  no  need  of  divine  grace,  or  that  it  is  in 
 our  own  power  to  make  our  felves  perfed.  It 
 only  liippoles,  that  through  the  want  of  a 
 jincere  intention  of  pleafing  God  in  all  our  atil- 
 ons^  we  fall  into  fuch  irregularities  of  life,  as 
 by  the  ordinary  means  of  grace,  we  ftiould 
 have  power  to  avoid. 
 
 And  that  we  have  not  that  perfedion, 
 which  our  prefent  ftate  of  grace  makes  us  ca- 
 pable of,  becaufe  we  don't  i:^  much  as  intend 
 to  have  it. 
 
 It  only  teaches  us,  that  the  realbn  why  you 
 fee  no  real  mortification,  or  felf-denial,-  no  ^- 
 minent  charity,  no  profotmd  humility,  no  hea^ 
 venly  affedion,  no  true  conX.Qvn.^X.  of  the  world, 
 no  C^ri/?/^;^  meeknefs,  no  Jtncere  zq^I^  no  emi^ 
 nent  piety  in  the  common  lives  of  Chriftians,  is 
 this,  becaufe  they  don't  fo  much  as  interid  to 
 he  exa£t  and  exemplary  inthefe  virtues. 
 
 ^m^m 
 
 CHAP. 
 
a  8  A  Sericns  Call 
 
 CHAP.    IIL 
 
 Of  the  great  danger  j  and  folly  of  not  intending 
 to  be  as  eminent  and  exemplary ^  as  we  can^ 
 hi  the  fraBke  of  all  Chrijlian  virtues. 
 
 ■  A  Lthough  the  goodnefs  of  God,  and  his 
 /"^  rich  mercies  in  Chrift  Jefus  are  a  fuffici- 
 ent  alTurance  to  us,  that  he  will  be  merciful 
 to  our  unavoidable  weakneffes  and  infirmities, 
 that  is,  to  fuch  failings  as  are  the  effeds  of 
 ignorance  or  fur  prize ;  yet  we  have  no  reafon 
 to  expeft  the  fame  mercy  towards  thofe  fins 
 which  wx  have  liv'd  in,  through  a  want  of 
 intention  to  avoid  them. 
 
 For  infl:ance,  the  cafe  of  a  common  fwe are r 
 who  dies  in  that  guilt,  feems  to  have  no  title 
 to  the  divine  mercy,  for  this  reaibn,  becaufe 
 he  can  no  more  plead  any  weaknefs,  or  infir- 
 mity in  his  excuie,  than  the  man  that  hid  his 
 talent  in  the  earth,  could  plead  his  want  of 
 ftrength  to  keep  it  out  of  the  earth. 
 
 But  now  if  this  be  right  realbning  in  the 
 cafe  of  a  common  fwe  arer^  that  his  fin  is  not  to 
 be  reckoned  tl  pardonable  frailty  ^  becaufe  he  has 
 no  weaknefs  to  plead  in  its  excufe,  why  then 
 do  we  not  carry  this  way  of  realbning  to  its 
 true  extent  ?  Why  don't  we  as  much  condemn 
 every  other  error  of  life,  that  has  no  more 
 weaknefs  to  plead  in  its  excufe  than  common 
 fwearing  ? 
 
 For 
 
to  a  Vc'voni  and  Holy  Life.         ap 
 
 For  if  this  be  lb  bad  a  thing,  becaufe  it 
 might  be  avoided,  if  we  did  but  fincerely  in- 
 tend it,  muft  not  then  all  other  erroneous 
 ways  of  life  be  very  guilty,  if  we  live  in 
 them,  not  through  weaknefs  and  inabihty,  but 
 becaufe  we  never  fincerely  intended  to  avoid 
 them  ? 
 
 For  inftance,  you  perhaps  liave  made  no 
 progrefs  in  the  mioft  important  chriftian  vir- 
 tues, you  have  fcarce  gone  half  way  in  humi'- 
 lity  aad  charity ;  now  if  your  failure  in  thefe 
 duties  is  purely  mowing  to  your  want  of  inten* 
 tion  of  performing  them  in  any  true  degree, 
 have  you  not  then  as  little  to  plead  for  your 
 felf,  and  are  you  not  as  much  Y^ithout  vaJLex-!- 
 cufe  as  the  common  jw ear er  ?  - '?n  -m.-i-r  01  -cnr 
 
 Why,  therefore,  don't  you  prefs  thefe  things 
 home  upon  your  conlcience  ?  Why  do  you  not 
 think  it  as  dangerous  for  you  to  live  in  fuch 
 defefts  as  are  in  your  power  to  amend,  as  'tis 
 dangerous  for  a  common  fwearer  to  live  in  the 
 breach  of  that  duty,  which  it  is  in  his  power 
 to  obferve  ?  Is  not  negligence,  aaa  a  want  of 
 a  fincere  intention,  as  blameable  in  one  cafe, 
 .as  in  another  ? 
 
 You,  it  may  be,  are  as  far  from  Chriftian 
 <J^erfetlwn ,  as  the  common  fwearer  is  -from 
 keeping  the  third  Commandment  ^  are  you  not 
 therefore  as  much  condemned  by  the  doctrines 
 of  the  Gofpel,  as  the  fwearer  is  by  the  third 
 Commandment  ? 
 
 You  perhaps  will  fay,  that  all  People  fall 
 Ihort  of  the  Perfection  of  the  Gofpel,    and 
 
 there- 
 
5©  A  Serious  Call 
 
 therefore  you  are  content  with  your  fiiih'ngs. 
 But  this  is  faying  nothing  to  the  purpole. 
 For  the  queftion  is  not  whether  Gofpel  Perfe- 
 ftion  can  be  fully  attained,  but  whether  you 
 come  as  near  it  as  a  fincere  intention ,  and 
 careful  diligence  can  carry  you.  Whether  you 
 are  not  in  a  much  lower  ftate  than  you  might 
 be,  if  you  fincerely  intended,  and  carefully 
 laboured  to  advance  your  felf  in  all  Chriftian 
 virtues. 
 
 If  you  are  as  forward  in  the  Chriftian  Life, 
 as  your  beft  endeavours  can  make  you,  then 
 you  may  juftly  hope  that  your  imperfeBions 
 will  not  be  laid  to  your  charge ;  but  if  your 
 defeds  in  pety^  humUity^  and  charity^  are  ow- 
 ing to  your  negligence,  and  want  oi  Jincere 
 intention  to  be  as  eminent  as  you  can  in  thele 
 virtues,  then  you  leave  your  felf  as  much 
 without  excufe,  as  he  that  lives  in  the  fin  of 
 fwearing,  through  the  want  of  a  fincere  inten- 
 tion to  depart  from  it. 
 
 The  falvation  of  our  fouls  is  fet  forth  in 
 Scripture  as  a  thing  of  difficulty,  that  requires 
 all  our  diligence^  that  is  to  be  work!d  out  with 
 fear  and  trembling. 
 
 We  are  told,  that  ft  rait  is  the  gate^  and 
 narrow  is  the  way  that  leadeth  unto  life^  a^id 
 few  there  he  that  find  it.  That  many  are  called^ 
 but  few  are  chofen.  And  that  many  will  mils 
 of  their  lalvation,  who  feem  to  have  taken 
 fofne  pains  to  obtain  it.  As  in  thefe  words, 
 Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  fir  ait  gate^  for   many 
 
 Ifay 
 
^0  a  Ve'vout  and  Holy  Life:         5 1 
 
 I  Jay  unto  you  wlUfeek  to  enter  in^  and  Jh  all  not 
 he  ahle. 
 
 Here  our  blelTed  Lord  commands  us  to 
 Jfrive  to  enter  in,  becaufe  many  will  fail,  who 
 onlj/eek  to  enter.  By  which  we  are  plainly 
 taught,  that  Religion  is  a  ftate  of  labour  and 
 Jiriving^  and  that  many  will  fail  of  their  fal- 
 vation;  not  becaufe  they  took  no  pains  or 
 care  about  it,  but  becaufe  they  did  not  take 
 pains  and  care  enough ;  they  only  fought^  but 
 did  not  Jirive  to  enter  in. 
 
 Every  Chriftian,  therefore,  ihould  as  well 
 examine  his  life  by  thefe  DoBrineSj  as  by  the 
 Commandments.  For  thefe  Doftrines  are  as 
 plain  marks  of  our  condition,  as  the  Com- 
 mandments are  plain  marks  of  our  duty. 
 
 For  if  falvation  is  only  given  to  thofe  who 
 Jirive  for  it,  then  it  is  as  reafonable  for  me  to 
 confider ,  whether  my  courfe  of  life  be  a 
 courfe  of  ftriving  to  obtain  it,  as  to  confider 
 whether  I  am  keeping  any  of  the  Command- 
 ments. 
 
 If  my  Religion  is  only  a  formal  compliance 
 with  thofe  modes  of  worfhip  that  are  in  fa- 
 ftiion  where  I  live;  if  it  cofts  me  no  pains  or 
 trouble ;  if  it  lays  me  under  no  rules  and  re- 
 ftraints ;  if  I  have  no  careful  thoughts  and  ib^ 
 ber  refleftions  about  it,  is  it  not  great  weak- 
 nefs  to  think  that  I  am  Jirivtng  to  enter  in  at 
 the  Jiratt  gate? 
 
 If  I  am  leeking  every  thing  that  can  de- 
 light my  fenfes ,    and   regale  my  appetites  ; 
 Ipending  my  time  and  fortune  in  plealiires,  in 
 a  diver- 
 
52  A  Serious  Call 
 
 diverfions,  and  worldly  enjoyments,  a  ftran- 
 ger  to  watchings,  failings,  prayers,  and  mor- 
 tifications, how  can  it  be  laid  that  I  am 
 workhg  out  my  falvatmi  with  jear  and  trem^ 
 Ming  F 
 
 If  there  is  nothing  in  my  life  and  converla- 
 tion,  that  fliews  me  to  be  different  from  Jews 
 and  Heathens ;  if  I  uie  the  world,  and  world- 
 ly enjoyments,  as  the  generality  of  people  now 
 do,  and  in  all  ages  have  done,  why  fliould  I 
 think  that  I  am  amongft  thoje  few^  who  are 
 walking  in  the  narrow  way  to  heaven  ? 
 
 And  yet  if  the  way  is  narrow^  if  none  can 
 walk  in  it  but  thofe  that  Jirive^  is  it  not  as 
 necelfavy  for  me  to  confider,  whether  the  way 
 I  am  in  be  narrow  enough^  or  the  labour  I 
 take  be  a  fujfficient  ftriving,  as  to  confider  whe- 
 ther I  fufficiently  oblerve  the  lecond  or  third 
 Commandment  ? 
 
 The  fum  of  this  matter  is  this :  From  the 
 above-mentioned,  and  many  other  paffages  of 
 Scripture,  it  feems  plain,  that  our  falvation 
 depends  upon  the  Jincerity  and  j^erfeBion  of 
 our  endeavours  to  obtain  it. 
 
 Weak  and  imperfect  men  fiiall,  notwith- 
 ftanding  their  frailties  and  defefts,  be  received, 
 as  having  pleasVi  God,  if  they  have  done 
 tlieir  iitmofi  to  pleafe  him. 
 
 The  rewards  of  charity,  piety,  and  humi- 
 lity, will  be  given  to  thole,  whole  lives  have 
 been  a  careful  labour  to  exercife  thefe  virtues 
 in  as  high  a  degree  as  they  could. 
 
 We 
 
io  a  Dez^ont  and  Holy  Life.         3  5 
 
 We  cannot  offer  to  God  the  lervice  of  ^;?-. 
 gels ;  we  cannot  obey  him  as  man  in  a  ftate  of 
 perfection  could ;  but  jaJkn  men  can  do  their 
 heft^  and  this  is  the  perfection  that  is  required 
 of  us;  it  is  only  the  perfcftion  of  our  ^f/? en- 
 deavours, a  careful  labour  to  be  as  perfect  as 
 we  can* 
 
 But  if  we  flop  fhort  of  this,  for  ought  we 
 know,  we  flop  fhort  of  the  mercy  of  God, 
 and  leave  our  lelves  nothing  to  plead  from  the 
 terms  of  the  Gofpel.  For  God  has  there 
 made  no  promifes  of  mercy  to  the  Jlothftd 
 and  vegUgent,  His  mercy  is  only  offered  to 
 our  frail  and  imperfect,  but  bell  endeavours  to 
 praftife  all  manner  of  righteoufnefs. 
 
 As  the  law  to  angels  is  angelical  right eouC- 
 neis,  as  the  law  to  perfeft  beings  is  ftriCt  per- 
 fection, fo  the  law  to  our  imperfect  natures  is 
 the  bcfi  obedience  that  our  frail  nature  is  able 
 to  perform. 
 
 The  meafure  of  our  love  to  God,  feems  in. 
 juftice  to  be  the  jneafure  of  our  love  of  every 
 virtue.  We  are  to  love  and  practife  it  with 
 all  our  heart,  zvith  all  cur  foul^  with  all  our 
 mind.,  and  with  all  our  firength.  And  when, 
 we  ceafe  to  live  with  this  regard  to  virtue,  we 
 live  below  our  nature,  and  inftead  of  being 
 able  to  plead  our  infirmities.^  we  ftand  charge-* 
 able  with  neo-liz^nce. 
 
 It  is  for  this  reafon  that  we  are  exhorted, 
 to  work  out  our  falvation  with  fear  and  trem^ 
 Ming  ;  becaufe  unlels  our  heart  and  paJftGns  are 
 eagerly  bent  upon  the  w^ork  of  our  falvation  j 
 
 D  unlefs 
 
34  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 unlcfs  hofy  fears  animate  our  endeavours,  and 
 keep  our  confciences  ftrift  and  tender  about 
 every  part  of  our  duty,  conftantly  examining 
 how  we  live,  and  how  fit  we  are  to  die,  we 
 fliall  in  all  probability  fall  into  a  ftate  of  neg- 
 ligence, and  fit  down  in  fuch  a  courfe  of  life, 
 as  will  never  carry  us  to  the  rewards  of 
 heaven. 
 
 And  he  that  confiders,  that  a  juft  God  can 
 only  make  luch  allowances  as  are  fuitable  to 
 his  juftice,  that  our  works  are  all  to  be  exa- 
 mined by  fire,  will  find  thatj^^r  and  trembling 
 are  proper  tempers  for  thole  that  are  drawing 
 near  fo  great  a  trial. 
 
 And  indeed  there  is  no  probability  that  any 
 one  fhould  do  all  the  duty  that  is  expefted 
 from  him,  or  make  that  progrefs  in  piety, 
 which  the  holinefs  and  juftice  of  God  requires 
 of  him;  but  he  that  is  conftantly  afraid  of 
 falling  ftiort  of  it. 
 
 Now  this  is  not  intended  to  poflTefs  people's 
 minds  with  a  fcrupulous  anxiety  and  difcon- 
 tent  in  the  fervice  of  God,  but  to  fill  them 
 with  a  juft  fear  of  living  in  floth  and  idlenefs, 
 and  in  the  negled  of  luch  virtues  as  they  will 
 want  at  the  day  of  judgment. 
 
 It  is  to  excite  them  to  an  earneft  examina- 
 tion of  their  lives,  to  liich  zeal,  and  care  and 
 concern  after  chriftian  perfedion,  as  they  ule 
 in  any  matter  that  has  gained  their  heart  and 
 affeftions. 
 
 It  is  only  defiring  them  to  be  fo  apprehen- 
 
 fiye  of  their  ftate,  16  humble  in  the  opinion 
 
 2  of 
 
/ 
 to  a  Devout  and  Holy  'Life.        3  5 
 
 of  themfclves,  fo  earneft  after  higher  degrees 
 of  piety,  and  i^o  fearful  of  falhng  fhort  of 
 happineis,  as  the  great  Apoftlc  St.  Vaul  was, 
 when  he  thus  wrote  to  the  ^h'lUppians. 
 
 Not  as  though  I  had  already  attain' d^  either 
 
 were  already  perfeBj  < .  bat  this  one  thing  1 
 
 doj  forgetting  thoje  things  which  are  behind^ 
 and  reaching  forth  titito  thofe  things  which  are 
 before:  I  prefs  toward  the  7nark  for  the  prize 
 of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Chriji  Jeftis.  And 
 then  he  adds,  let  as  therejore^  as  7nany  as  are 
 perje^^  be  thus  minded. 
 
 But  now,  if  the  Apoftle  thought  it  necelTa- 
 ry  for  thofe  who  were  in  his  ftate  of  perfe6ti- 
 on,  to  be  thus  minded'^  that  is,  thus  labour- 
 ing, preffing  and  afpiring  after  fome  degrees  of 
 holinefs,  to  which  they  were  not  then  arrived; 
 furely  it  is  much  more  neceffary  for  us,  who 
 are  born  in  the  dregs  of  time,  and  labouring 
 under  great  imperfedions,  to  be  thus  minded'^ 
 that  is,  thus  earneft  and  ftriving  after  luch 
 degrees  of  a  holy  and  divine  life,  as  we  have 
 not  yet  attained. 
 
 The  beft  way  for  any  one  to  know  how 
 much  he  ought  to  afpire  after  holinefs,  is  to 
 confider,  not  how  much  will  make  his  prefent 
 life  eafy,  but  to  ask  himielf,  how  much  he 
 thinks  will  make  him  eafy  at  the  hour  of 
 death. 
 
 Now  any  man  that  dares  be  fo  ferious  as  to 
 put  this  queftion  to  himfelf,  will  be  forc'd  to 
 anlV.er,  that  at  death  every  one  will  wilh  that 
 
 D  ^  he 
 
i^  A  SerroHs  Call 
 
 he  had  been  as  perfeft  as  human  nature  can 
 be. 
 
 Is  not  this  therefore  fufficient  to  put  us  not 
 only  upon  wilhing,  but  labouring  after  all 
 that  perfeftion,  which  we  fliall  then  lament 
 the  want  of?  Is  it  not  exceffive  folly  to  be 
 content  with  fuch  a  courfe  of  piety  as  we  al- 
 ready know  cannot  content  us  ,  at  a  time 
 when  wc  Ihall  fo  want  it,  as  to  have  nothing 
 elfe  to  comfort  us  ?  How  can  we  carry  a  fe- 
 verer  condemnation  againft  our  felves,  than 
 to  believe,  that  at  the  hour  of  death  wx  fhall 
 want  the  virtues  of  the  Saints^  and  wilh  that 
 we  had  been  amongft  the  firjft  fervants  of 
 God,  and  yet  take  no  methods  of  arriving  at 
 their  height  of  piety  whilft  we  are  alive? 
 
 Though  this  is  an  abfurdlty  that  we  can  ea- 
 lily  pals  over  at  prefent,  whilft  the  health  of 
 our  bodies,  the  paffions  of  our  minds,  the 
 noife,  and  hurry,  and  pleafures,  and  bufinels 
 of  the  world,  lead  us  on  with  eyes  that  fee 
 not,  and  ears  that  hear  not,  yet  at  death  it 
 will  fet  it  fe]f  before  us  in  a  dreadful  magni- 
 tude, it  will  haunt  us  like  a  difmal  Ghoft, 
 and  our  confcience  will  never  let  us  take  our 
 eyes  from  it. 
 
 We  fee  in  w^orldly  matters,  what  a  torment 
 felf-condemnation  is;  and  how  hardly  a  man 
 is  able  to  forgive  himfelf,  when  he  has  brought 
 himfelf  into  any  calamity  or  difgrace,  purely 
 by  his  own  folly.  The  afflidion  is  made  doubly 
 tormenting  ;  becaufe  he  is  forc'd  to  charge  it 
 all  upon  himfelf,  as  his  own  ad  and  deed, 
 
 againft 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.         37 
 
 againft  the  nature  and  realbn  of  things,  and 
 contrary  to  the  advice  of  all  his  friends. 
 
 Now  by  this  we  may  in  fome  degree  guels, 
 how  terrible  the  pain  of  that  lelf-condemna- 
 tion  will  be,  when  a  man  fhall  find  himfelf  in 
 the  mileries  of  death,  under  the  fevcrity  of  a 
 1  elf-condemning  conlcicnce;  charging  all  his 
 diftrcfs  upon  his  own  folly  ,  and  madnefs , 
 againft  the  lenlc  and  reafon  of  his  own  mind, 
 againft  all  the  doftrines  and  precepts  of 
 religion,  and  contrary  to  all  the  inftrudions, 
 calls  and  warnings,  both  of  God  and  man. 
 
 ^enltens  was  a  bufy ,  notable  tradefman, 
 and  very  profperous  in  his  dealings,  but  diecj 
 in  the  thtrty-jifth  year  of  his  age. 
 
 A  little  before  his  death,  when  the  dodors 
 had  given  him  over,  Ibme  of  his  neighbours 
 came  one  evening  to  fee  him ;  at  which  time 
 he  Ipake  thus  to  them. 
 
 I  fee,  fays  he,  my  friends,  the  tender  con- 
 cern you  have  for  me,  by  the  grief  that  ap- 
 pears in  your  countenances,  and  I  know  the 
 thoughts  that  you  now  have  about  me.  You 
 think  how  melancholy  a  cafe  it  is  to  fee  ^o 
 young  a  man,  and  in  fuch  flouriftiing  bufinefi, 
 delivered  up  to  death.  And  perhaps,  had  I 
 vifited  any  of  you  \ti  my  condition,  I  fliould 
 have  had  the  fame  thoughts  of  you. 
 
 But  now,  my  friends,  my  thoughts  are  no 
 more  like  your  thoughts,  than  my  conditiou 
 ^5  like  yours. 
 
 It  is  no  trouble  to  me  now  to  think  that  lam 
 to  die  young,  or  before  I  have  rais'd  an  eftate^ 
 
 P  3  Thcfe 
 
A  Serious  Call 
 
 $8 
 
 Thefe  things  are  now  funk  into  fuch  mere 
 fiothlngs^  that  I  have  no  name  little  enough  to 
 call  them  by.  For  if  in  a  few  days,  or  hours, 
 I  am  to  leave  this  carcafe  to  be  buried  in  the 
 earth,  and  to  find  my  felf  either  for  ever  hap- 
 py in  the  favour  of  God,  or  eternally  fepara- 
 ted  from  all  light  and  peace,  can  any  words 
 fufficicntly  exprels  the  littlenels  of  every  thing 
 elfe? 
 
 Is  there  any  dream  like  the  dream  of  life, 
 which  amules  us  with  the  neglect  and  difre- 
 gard  of  thele  things  ?  Is  there  any  folly  like 
 the  folly  of  our  manly  ftate,  which  is  too 
 wife  and  bufy  to  be  at  leifure  for  thefe  reflexi- 
 ons ? 
 
 When  we  confider  death  as  a  mifery,  we 
 only  think  of  it  as  a  miferable  feparation  from 
 the  enjoyments  of  this  life.  We  feldom 
 mourn  over  an  old  man  that  dies  jich,  but 
 we  lament  the  young  that  are  taken  away  in 
 the  progrefs  of  their  fortune.  You  your  felves 
 look  upon  me  with  pity,  not  that  I  am  going 
 unprepared  to  meet  the  Judge  of  quick  and 
 dead,  but  that  I  am  to  leave  a  profperous 
 trade  in  the  flower  of  my  life. 
 
 This  is  the  wifdom  of  our  manly  thoughts. 
 And  yet  what  folly  of  the  fillieft  children  is 
 fo  great  as  this? 
 
 For  what  is  there  milerable  or  dreadful  in 
 death,  but  the  conlequences  of  it  ?  When  a 
 man  is  dead,  what  does  any  thing  fignify  to 
 him^  but  the  fl:ate  he  is  then  in  ? 
 
 Our 
 
 i 
 
to  a  TicvoHt  and  Holy  Life.        ^p 
 
 Our  poor  friend  Leptdus  dy'd,  you  know, 
 as  he  was  dreffing  himlelf  lor  ^  feafl  -^  do  you 
 think  it  is  now  part  of  his  trouble,  that  he 
 did  not  live  till  that  entertainment  was  over? 
 
 Feafisj  and  hujincjs^  and  pleajures^  and  ^;;- 
 joyme?its^  fecm  great  things  to  us,  whilft  we 
 think  of  nothing  elfc ;  but  as  foon  as  we  add 
 death  to  them,  they  all  fink  into  an  equal  lit- 
 tlenefs ;  and  the  foul  that  is  feparated  from  the 
 body,  no  more  laments  the  lofs  of  hajinefs^ 
 than  the  lofing  of  2ifcafi. 
 
 If  I  am  now  going  into  the  joys  of  God, 
 could  there  be  any  reafon  to  grieve,  that  this 
 happened  to  me  before  I  was  forty  years  of 
 age  ?  Could  it  be  a  fad  thing  to  go  to  heaven, 
 before  I  had  made  a  few  more  bargains^  or 
 flood  a  little  longer  behind  a  counter  ? 
 
 And  if  I  am  to  go  amonglt  loft  Ipirits, 
 could  there  be  any  reafon  to  be  content,  that 
 this  did  not  happen  to  me  till  I  was  old,  and 
 full  of  riches  ? 
 
 If  good  Angels  were  ready  to  receive  my 
 foul,  could  it  be  any  grief  to  me,  that  I  was 
 dying  upon  a  poor  bed  in  a  garret  <^ 
 
 And  if  God  has  delivered  me  up  to  evil  fpi- 
 rits,  to  be  dragged  by  them  to  places  of  tor- 
 ments, could  it  be  any  comfort  to  me  that 
 they  found  me  upon  a  bed  of  ftate  ? 
 
 When  you  are  as  near  death  as  I  am,  you 
 will  know,  that  all  the  different  ftates  of  life, 
 whether  of  youth  or  age,  riches  or  poverty, 
 greatnefs  or  mcannefs,  fignify  no  more  to  you, 
 
 D  4  than 
 
^o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 than  whether  you  die  in  a  poor  or  Ji at ely  apart- 
 ment. 
 
 The  greatncfs  of  thofe  things  which  follow 
 death,  makes  all  that  goes  before  it  fink  into 
 nothing. 
 
 Now  that  judgment  is  the  next  thing  that  I 
 look  for,  and  everlafting  happinefs  or  mifery  is 
 come  io  near  me,  all  the  enjoyments  and  pro- 
 fperities  of  life  feem  as  vain  and  infignificant, 
 and  to  have  no  more  to  do  with  my  happinefs, 
 than  the  cloaths  that  I  wore  before  I  could 
 ipeafc. 
 
 But,  my  friends,  how  am  I  furpriz*d  that  X 
 have  not  always  had  thefe  thoughts  ?  for  what 
 is  there  in  the  terrors  of  death,  in  the  vani- 
 ties of  life,  or  the  neceffities  of  piety,  but 
 what  I  might  have  as  eafily  and  fully  feen  in 
 any  part  of  my  life  ? 
 
 What  a  ftrange  thing  is  it,  that  a  little 
 healthy  or  the  poor  bufinefs  of  a  Jhop^  ftiould 
 keep  us  i'o  fenlelefs  of  thefe  great  things  that 
 are  coming  fo  fall  upon  us ! 
 
 Juft  as  you  came  into  my  chamber,  I  was 
 thinking  with  my  felf,  what  numbers  of  fouls 
 there  are  now  in  the  world,  in  my  condition 
 at  this  very  time,  lurpriz'd  with  a  fummons 
 to  the  other  world;  Ibme  taken  from  their 
 /hops  and  farms^  others  from  their  fports  and 
 pkafuresy  thefe  at  fults  at  Law^  tliofe  at 
 Gaming'tableSy  fome  on  the  roady  others  at 
 their  own  jire-Jides^  and  all  feiz'd  at  an  hour 
 when  they  thought  nothing  of  it ;  frighted  at 
 the  approach  of  death,  confounded  at  the  va- 
 
 pity 
 
io  a  Vcvoiii  and  Holy  Life.        4 1 
 
 nity  of  all  their  labours,  dcfigns,  and  projccbs, 
 aftonilli'd  at  the  folly  of  their  pail  lives,  and 
 not  knowing  which  way  to  turn  their  thoughts, 
 to  find  any  comfort.  Their  confciences  flying 
 in  their  faces,  bringing  all  their  fins  to  their 
 remembrance,  tormenting  them  w^ith  deepeft 
 convidions  of  their  own  folly,  prefentingthem 
 with  the  fight  of  the  angry  Judge,  the  worm 
 that  never  dies,  the  fire  that  is  never  quench'd^ 
 the  gates  of  hell,  the  powers  of  darknefs,  and 
 tJie  bitter  pains  of  eternal  death. 
 
 Oh  my  friends !  blcis  God  that  you  are  not 
 of  this  number,  that  you  have  time  and 
 fbrength  to  employ  your  felves  in  fuch  works 
 of  piety,  as  may  bring  you  peace  at  the  laft. 
 
 And  take  this  along  with  you,  that  there 
 is  nothing  but  a  life  of  great  piety,  or  a  death 
 of  great  ftupidity,  that  can  keep  off  thele  Ap- 
 prehcnfions. 
 
 Had  I  now  a  thoufand  worlds,  I  would  give 
 them  all  for  one  year  more,  that  I  might  pre- 
 sent unto  God,  one  year  of  fuch  devotion  and 
 good  works,  as  I  never  before  fo  much  as  in- 
 tended. 
 
 You  perhaps,  when  you  confider  that  I  have 
 liv'd  free  from  Icandal  and  debauchery,  and 
 in  the  communion  of  the  Church,  wonder  to 
 lee  me  fo  full  of  remorfe  and  felf-condemnati- 
 on  at  the  approach  of  death. 
 
 But  alas !  what  a  poor  thing  is  it,  to  have 
 liv*d  only  free  from  murder^  theft  and  adulter 
 rjy  \yhich  i§  all  that  I  can  lay  of  my  felf. 
 
 You 
 
ij.2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 You  know  indeed,  that  I  have  never  been 
 reckoned  a  fot^  but  you  are  at  the  fame  time 
 witnelTes,  and  have  been  frequent  companions 
 of  my  Intemperance^  fenfuallty^  and  great  hi- 
 diligence.  And  if  I  am  now  going  to  a  Judg- 
 ment, where  nothing  will  be  rewarded  but 
 good  works  J  I  may  well  be  concerned,  that  tho' 
 I  am  wofoty  yet  I  have  no  Chrijilan  fobrlety  to 
 plead  for  me. 
 
 It  is  true,  I  have  liv'd  in  the  communion 
 of  the  Church,  and  generally  frequented  its 
 woiiliip  and  iervice  on  Sunday s^  when  I  was 
 neither  too  idle^  or  not  otherwife  dilpos'd  of 
 by  my  hujinefs  and  pleafures.  But  then  my 
 conformity  to  the  publick  worfhip  has  been 
 rather  a  thing  of  courfe,  than  any  real  inten- 
 tion of  doing  that  which  the  fervice  of  the 
 tHhurch  fuppofes ;  had  it  not  been  fo,  I  had 
 been  oftner  at  Church,  more  devout  when 
 there,  and  more  fearful  of  ever  neglecting 
 it. 
 
 But  the  thing  that  now  furprizes  me  above 
 all  wonders  is  this,  that  I  never  had  fo  much 
 as  '^i  general  intention  of  living  up  to  the  piety 
 of  the  Gofpel.  This  never  fo  much  as  en- 
 tered into  my  head  or  my  heart.  I  never  once 
 in  my  life  confider'd,  whether  I  was  living  as 
 the  laws  of  Religion  dired,  or  whether  my 
 way  of  life  was  fuch  as  would  procure  me  the 
 mercy  of  God  at  this  hour. 
 
 And  can  it  be  thought  that  I  have  kept 
 the  Gofpel  terms  of  falvation,  without  ever 
 fo  much  as  Intending  in  any  ferious  and  deli* 
 
 berate 
 
to  a  Vc'vout  and  Holy  Life.        /^-^ 
 
 berate  manner  cither  to  know  them,  or  keep 
 them  ?  Can  it  be  thought  that  I  have  pleafcd 
 God  with  liTch  a  life  as  he  requires,  tho'  I 
 have  liv'd  without  ever  confidering  what  he 
 requires,  or  how  much  I  have  performed? 
 How  caly  a  thing  would  lalvation  be,  if  it 
 could  fall  into  my  carclels  hands,  who  have 
 never  had  ib  much  ferious  thoughts  about  it, 
 as  about  any  one  common  bargain  that  I  have 
 made  ? 
 
 In  the  bufineis  of  life  I  have  ufed  prudence 
 and  reflection,  I  have  done  every  thing  by 
 rules  and  methods.  I  have  been  glad  to  con- 
 verle  with  men  of  experience  and  judgment, 
 to  find  out  the  realbns  why  fome  fail,  and  o- 
 thers  fucceed  in  any  bufinefs.  I  have  taken  no 
 ftep  in  trade  but  with  great  care  and  caution, 
 confidering  every  advantage  or  danger  that 
 attended  it.  I  have  always  had  my  eye  upon 
 the  main  end  of  bufinefs,  and  have  ftudy'd 
 all  the  ways  and  means  of  being  a  gainer  by 
 all  that  I  undertook. 
 
 But  what  is  the  reafon  that  I  have  brought 
 none  of  thefe  tempers  to  Religion  ?  What  is 
 the  reaibn  that  I,  who  have  lb  often  talk'd  of 
 theneceflity  of  rules  d,nd  methods^  -^.nd  diligence 
 in  worldly  bufinefs,  have  all  this  while  never 
 once  thought  of  any  rules,  or  methods,  or 
 managements,  to  carry  me  on  in  a  life  of 
 Piety. 
 
 Do  you  think  any  thing  can  aftonifli,  and 
 confound  a  dying  man  like  this  ?  What  pain 
 do  you  think  a  man  mull  feel,  when  his  con- 
 
 fcicncc 
 
44  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 fcicnce  lays  all  this  folly  to  his  charge,  when 
 it  fhall  fhew  him  how  regular,  exact,  and  wife 
 he  has  been  in  fmall  matters,  that  are  paffed 
 away  like  a  dream,  and  howftupid  andfenfe- 
 lefs  he  has  liv'd,  without  any  refledion,  with- 
 out any  rules,  in  things  of  fuch  eternal  mo- 
 ment, as  no  heart  can  fufficiently  'conceive 
 them ! 
 
 Had  I  only  my  frailties  and  imperfeBions  to 
 lament  at  this  time,  I  fliould  lye  here  humbly 
 trufting  in  the  mercies  of  God.  But  alas  !  how 
 can  I  call  a  general  dii'regard,  and  a  thorough 
 negled  of  all  religious  improvement,  ?i  frailty 
 or  imperfeBion  ;  when  it  was  as  much  in  my 
 power  to  have  been  exaft,  and  careful,  and  dili- 
 gent in  a  courfe  of  piety,  as  in  the  bufinefs 
 of  my  trade. 
 
 I  could  have  call- d  in  as  many  helps,  have 
 pradiled  as  many  rules,  and  been  taught  as 
 many  certain  methods  of  holy  living,  as  of 
 thriving  in  my  fhop,  had  I  but  fo  intended 
 and  defir'd  it. 
 
 Oh  my  friends!  a  carclefs  life,  unconcerned 
 and  unattentive  to  the  duties  of  Religion,  is 
 ib  without  all  excufe,  fo  unworthy  of  the 
 mercy  of  God,  fuch  a  fhame  to  the  fenfe  and 
 realbn  of  our  minds,  that  I  can  hardly  conceive 
 a  greater  punifhment,  than  for  a  man  to  be 
 thrown  into  the  Hate  that  I  am  in,  to  refleft 
 upon  it. 
 
 Menkens  was  here  going  on,  but  had  his 
 mouth  ftopp'dby  a  conviiljion^  which  never  fuf- 
 fer'd  him  to  fpeak  ^ny  more.    H.e  lay  convulsed 
 
 abpuj 
 
to  a  DezfOHt  and  Holy  Life.        45 
 
 about  twelve  hours,   and  then   gave  up  the 
 ghoft. 
 
 Now  if  every  reader  would  imagine  this 
 ^Peuitem  to  have  been  Ibme  particular  acquain- 
 tance or  relation  of  his,  and  fancy  that  he  law 
 and  heard  all  that  is  here  deicrib'd,  that  he 
 flood  by  his  bed-fide  when  his  poor  friend  lay 
 in  luch  diftrelsand  agony,  lamenting  the  folly 
 of  his  paft  life,  it  would  in  all  probability 
 teach  him  fuch  wifdom  as  never  enter'd  into 
 his  heart  before.  If  to  this,  he  Ihould  confider 
 how  often  he  himlelf  might  have  been  fur  pri- 
 zed in  the  lame  ftate  of  negligence,  and  made 
 an  example  to  the  reft  of  the  world,  this  dou- 
 ble reflexion,  both  upon  the  dtfirefs  of  his 
 friend,  ;.nd  xh^  goodnefs  of  that  God,  who  had 
 preferv'd  him  from  it,  would  in  all  likelihood 
 foften  his  heart  into  holy  tempers,  and  make 
 him  turn  the  remainder  of  his  life  into  a  re- 
 gular courle  of  piety. 
 
 This  therefore  being  fo  ufeful  a  meditation, 
 I  Ihall  here  leave  the  reader,  as,  I  hope  fe- 
 rioufly  engaged  in  it. 
 
 CHAR 
 
^6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 CHAP.    IV. 
 
 iVe  can  ficcife  God  hi  no  Jlate^  or  employment  of 
 I'lfe^  but  by  intending  and  devoting  H  all  to 
 his  honour  and  Glory. 
 
 HAving  in  the  firft  Chapter  ftated  the 
 general  nature  of  Devotion,  and  Ihewn, 
 that  it  implies  not  ^i^j  form  of  ^rayer^  but  a 
 certain  form  of  life,  that  is  offered  to  God  not 
 at  any  particular  times ^  or  places ^  but  every 
 where  and  in  every  thing ;  I  fhall  now  defcend 
 to  Ibme  particulars,  and  fhevv  how  we  are  to 
 devote  our  labour  and  employm.ent^  our  time 
 and  fortunes  unto  God. 
 
 As  a  good  Chriftian  Ihould  confider  every 
 place  as  holy,  becaufe  God  is  there,  lb  he 
 Ihould  look  upon  every  part  of  his  life  as  a  mat- 
 ter of  holinefs,  becaufe  it  is  to  be  offered  unto 
 God. 
 
 The  profeffion  of  a  Clcrgyjnan^  is  an  holy 
 profeffion,  becaufe  it  is  a  miniftration  in  holy 
 things^  an  attendance  at  the  Altar.  But 
 worldly  bufinefs  is  to  be  made  holy  unto  the 
 Lord,  by  being  done  as  a  fervice  to  him,  and 
 in  conformity  to  his  divine  will. 
 
 For  as  all  men  and  all  things  in  the  World, 
 as  truly  belong  unto  God,  as  ?.iij places^  things^ 
 or  perfons  that  are  devoted  to  divine  fervice, 
 lb  all  things  are  to  be  ufedy  and  all  perfons  are 
 
 to 
 
to  a  Veojont  and  Holy  Life.        47 
 
 to  aB  in  their  feveral  ftates  and  employments 
 for  the  Glory  of  God. 
 
 Men  of  worldly  bufinefs  therefore  muft  not 
 look  upon  themi'elvcs  as  at  liberty  to  live  to 
 themfelves,  to  facriiice  to  their  own  humours 
 and  tempers^  becaufe  their  employment  it>  of  a 
 worldly  nature.  But  they  muft  confider,  that 
 as  theworldand  all  worldly  profeffions,  as  tru- 
 ly belong  to  God,  as  ferjons  and  things  that 
 are  devoted  to  the  Altar^  ^o  it  is  as  much  the 
 duty  of  men  in  worldly  bufinefs  to  live  wholly 
 unto  God,  as  'tis  the  duty  of  thole,  who  are 
 devoted  to  divine  fervice. 
 
 As  the  whole  world  is  God's,  ^o  the  whole 
 world  is  to  aft  for  God.  As  all  men  have  the 
 fame  relation  to  God,  as  all  men  have  all  their 
 powers  znd  faculties  from  God,  lb  all  men  are 
 obliged  to  aft  for  God  w^ith  all  their  powers 
 and  faculties. 
 
 As  all  things  are  God's,  fo  all  things  are  to 
 be  ufed  and  regarded  as  the  things  of  God. 
 For  men  to  abufe  things  on  earthy  and  live  to 
 themfelves,  is  the  fame  rebellion  againftGod, 
 as  for  Angels  to  abufe  things  in  Heaven  \  be- 
 caufe God  is  juft  the  fame  Lord  of  all  on  earth, 
 as  he  is  the  Lord  of  all  in  Heaven. 
 
 Things  may,  and  muft  differ  in  their  ujcy 
 but  yet  they  are  ail  to  be  ulcd  according  to  the 
 will  of  God. 
 
 Men  may,  and  muft  differ  in  their  employ^ 
 vientSy  but  yet  they  muft  all  aft  for  the  lame 
 ends,    as    dutiful    fervants   of    God,    in  the 
 
 right 
 
48 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 right  and  pious  performance  of  their  lerera! 
 callings. 
 
 Clergymen  muftlive  wholly  unto  God  in  one 
 fart'icuhtr  way,  that  is,  in  the  cxercile  oi Ho-< 
 ly  offices^  in  the  miniftration  of  'Prayers  and 
 Sacraments^  and  a  zealous  diftribution  of  fpi- 
 ritual  goods. 
 
 But  men  of  other  employments  are  in  their 
 particular  w^ays  as  much  obliged  to  aft  as  the 
 lervants  of  God,  and  live  wholly  unto  him  in 
 their  leveral  callings. 
 
 This  is  the  only  difference  between  Clergy- 
 men, and  People  of  other  callings. 
 
 When  it  can  be  fhewn,  that  men  might  be 
 vain,  covetous,  fenfual,  worldly  minded,  or 
 proud  in  the  exercife  of  their  worldly  bufincfs, 
 then  it  wull  be  allowable  for  Clergymen  to  in- 
 dulge the  fame  tempers  in  their  lacred  profel- 
 fion.  For  tho'  thefe  tempers  are  moft  odious 
 and  moft  criminal  in  Clergymen^  who  befidcs 
 their  baptifmal  vow,  have  a  fecond  time  de- 
 voted themlelves  to  God,  to  be  his  lervants, 
 not  in  the  common  offices  of  human  life,  but 
 in  the  /pi  ritual  few  icQ  of  the  moft  holy  J  acred 
 things ;  and  who  are  therefore  to  keep  them- 
 felves  as  feparate  and  different  from  the  com^ 
 mon  life  of  other  men,  as  a  Church  or  an  Altar 
 is  to  be  kept  feparate  from  houfes  and  tables  of 
 common  ufe.  Yet  as  all  Chriftians  are  by 
 their  baptifm  devoted  to  God,  and  made  pro- 
 felTors  of  holinefs,  io  are  they  all  in  their  feve- 
 ral  callings  to  live  as  holy  and  heavenly  per- 
 fons  \  doing  every  thing  in  their  common  life 
 
 only 
 
to  a  De^oHt  and  Holy'^  Life.        4^ 
 
 only  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  it  may  be  received 
 by  God,  as  a  fervice  done  to  him.  For  things 
 Ipiritual  and  temporal,  lacred  and  common, 
 muft,  like  meu  and  angels^  like  heaven  and 
 earthy  all  confpire  in  the  glory  of  God. 
 
 As  there  is  but  one  God  and  Father  of  us  all^ 
 whole  Glory  gives  light  and  life  to  every  thing 
 that  lives  \  wl\ole  pre  fence  fills  all  places, 
 whole  power  fupports  all  beings,  whole  pro- 
 vidence ruleth  all  events  \  lb  every  thing  that 
 lives,  whether  in  heaven  or  earthy  whether 
 they  be  thrones  or  frinclpalitles^  men  or  ayigelsy 
 they  rnuit  all  with  one  Ipirit,  live  wholly  to 
 the  praife  and  glory  of  this  one  God  and  Fa* 
 ther  of  them  all.  Jngels  as  angels  in  their 
 heavenly  miniftrations,  but  men  as  men,  wo-- 
 men  as  women,  htfloops  as  bifliops,  priejis  as 
 priefts,  and  deacons  as  cieacons;  fome  with 
 things  fpiritualj  and  fome  with  things  tempo^ 
 ral^  offering  to  God  the  daily  lacrifice  of  a 
 realbnable  life,  wife  adions,  purity  of  heart, 
 and  heavenly  affc6lions. 
 
 This  is  the  common  hajinefs  of  all  perfons  in 
 this  world.  It  is  not  left  to  any  women  \n  the 
 world  to  trifle  away  their  time  in  the  follies 
 and  impertinencies  of  'AJaJh'wnable  life^  nor  to 
 any  men  to  rcfign  themfelves  up  to  worldly 
 cares  and  concerns  \  it  is  not  left  to  the  r/r^ 
 to  gratify  their  paffions  in  the  indiihencles  and 
 pride  of  life,  nor  to  the  poor  to  vex  and  tor- 
 ment their  hearts  with  the  poverty  of  their 
 ftate*  but  men  and  women,  rich  and  poor, 
 muft  with  htjhops  and  prUJls  y    walk   before 
 
 E  God 
 
^o  A  Serious-  Call 
 
 God  in  the  lame  wile  and  holy  fpirit,  in  the 
 lame  denial  of  all  vain  tempers,  and  in  the 
 fame  dilcipline  and  care  of  their  fouls  ^  not 
 only  becaufc  they  have  all  the  fame  rational 
 nature,  and  are  fervants  of  the  fame  God , 
 but  becaufe  they  a /I  wa;/f  the  fame  holinels 
 to  make  them  fit  for  the  fame  happinefs,  to 
 which  they  are  all  called.  It  is  therefore  ab- 
 folutely  neceffary  for  all  chriftians,  whether 
 rrteri  or  women^  to  confider  themfelves  as  per- 
 ibns  that  are  devoted  to  holinels ;  and  fo  order 
 their  common  zvays  oj  life  by  fuch  rules  of  rea- 
 fon  and  piety,  as  may  turn  it  into  conUniial 
 jervtce  unto  almighty  God. 
 
 Now  to  make  our  labour  or  employment  an 
 acceptable  fcrvice  unto  God,  v^x  muft  carry  it 
 on  with  the  fame  Jpint  and  temper  that  is  re- 
 quired in  giWng  of  almsy  or  any  work  of 
 piety.  For,  if  whether  we  eat  or 
 I  Cor.  X.  31.  ^^7;;.t,  or  whatfoever  we  do^  we 
 muji  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God\--\S.  we  are  to  tife 
 this  world  as  If  we  ufed  It  not  ^  if  wx  are  to 
 ..  prefent  our  bodies  a  living  facrlfce^ 
 
 Rom.  XII.  7.  ^^^,^  acceptable  to  God'^  if  we  are 
 to  live  by  faith ^  and  not  by  fight ^  and  to  have 
 our  converfatlon  In  heaven-^  then  it  is  neceffary 
 that  the  common  w^y  of  our  life  in  every  ftate, 
 be  made  to  glorify  God  by  fuch  tempers^  as 
 make  our  prayers  and  adorations  acceptable  to 
 him.  For  if  we  are  worldly  or  earthly- 
 minded  in  our  employments^  if  they  are  carried 
 on  w^ith  vain  defircs,  and  covetous  tempers, 
 only  to  fatisfy  our  felves,  we  can  no  more  be 
 
 laid 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        1 1 
 
 laid  to  live  to  the  glory  of  God,  than  g/^atofis 
 and  drunkards  can  be  iiiid  to  cat  and  drink  to 
 the  glory  of  God. 
 
 As  the  glory  of  God  is  one  and  the  fame 
 thing,  \o  whatever  we  do  fuitable  to  it,  muft 
 be  done  with  one  and  the  fame  fpirit.  That 
 iame  ftate  and  temper  of  mind,  which  makes 
 our  alms  and  devotions  acceptable,  muft  alio 
 miake  our  labour  or  employment  a  proper  offer- 
 ing unto  God.  If  a  man  labours  to  be  richy 
 and  purines  his  bufineis,  that,  he  may  raife 
 himfelf  to  a  ftate  oi  fgtire  and  ghry  in  the 
 world,  he  is  no  longer  ferving  God  in  his  em- 
 ployment- he  is  acting  under  other  mafterSj 
 and  has  no  more  title  to  a  reward  from  God, 
 than  he  that  gives  alms  that  he  may  be  feen^ 
 or  prays  that  he  may  be  heard  of  men.  For 
 vain  and  earthly  defires  are  no  more  allowable 
 in  our  employments^  than  in  our  alms  and  devo^- 
 thns^  For  thefe  tempers  of  worldly  pride, 
 and  vain  glory,  are  not  only  evil  when  they 
 mix  with  our  good  works,  but  they  have  the 
 lame  evil  nature,  and  make  us  odious  to  God, 
 when  they  enter  into  the  common  bufineis  of 
 our  employment.  If  it  were  allowable  to  in- 
 dulge covetous  or  vain  pafTions  in  our  worldly 
 employments^  it  would  then  be  allowable  to  be 
 vain-glorious  in  our  devotions.  But  as  our 
 alms  and  devotions  are  not  an  acceptable  fer- 
 vice,  but  when  they  proceed  from  a  heart 
 truly  devoted  to  God,  fo  our  common  employ- 
 ment cannot  be  reckoned  a  lervice  to  him, 
 
 E  z  but 
 
i'^t.  A  Serious  Call 
 
 but  when  it  is  perform'd  with  the  fame  temper 
 and  piety  of  heart. 
 
 Moft  of  the  employments  of  life  are  in 
 their  own  nature  lawful ;  and  all  thofe  that 
 are  fo,  may  be  made  a  fubftantial  part  of  our 
 duty  to  God,  if  we  engage  in  them  only  Jo 
 fary  and  for  fuch  endsj  as  are  fuitable  to 
 iehgs  that  are  to  live  above  the  world,  all  the 
 time  that  they  live  in  the  world.  This  is  the 
 only  meafiire  of  our  application  to  any  worldly 
 bufinefs,  let  it  be  what  it  will,  where  it  will, 
 it  muft  have  no  more  of  our  handsy  our  heart Sy 
 or  our  time^  than  is  confiftent  with  an  hearty, 
 daily,  careful  preparation  of  our  felves  for 
 another  life.  For  as  all  chriftians,  as  fuch, 
 have  renounced  this  world,  to  prepare  them- 
 felves  by  dally  devotion,  and  iiniverfal  holi- 
 nefs,  for  an  eternal  ftate  of  quite  another  na- 
 ture, they  muft  look  upon  worldly  employ- 
 ments, as  upon  worldly  wants^  and  bodily  hi' 
 jirmlttes"^  things  not  to  be  defir'd,  but  only 
 to  be  endur'd  and  fuffer^d,  till  death  and  the 
 refurreftion  has  carry'd  us  to  an  eternal  ftate 
 of  real  happinels. 
 
 Now  he  that  does  not  look  at  the  things  of 
 this  life  in  this  degree  of  littlenefs,  cannot  be 
 laid  either  to  feel  or  believe  the  greatefl  truths 
 of  chriftianity.  For  if  he  thinks  any  thing 
 great  or  important  in  human  bufinels,  can  he 
 be  faid  to  feel  or  believe  thole  Scriptures 
 which  reprefent  this  life,  and  the  greateft 
 things  of  life,  as  bubblesy  vapoursy  dreams  and 
 jhadows. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life,         ^  3 
 
 If  he  thinks  Jigure^  zndJheWj  and  worldly 
 ghr)'j    to  be  any  proper  happinefs  of  a  chri- 
 ftian,    how  can  he  be  faid  to  feel  or  believe 
 this  dodrine,  Blejfed  are  ye  when  ?nenjhall  hate 
 you^  and  when  they  JJjall  feparate  you  fro7n  their 
 company^  and  Jlihill  reproach  yoti^    and  caji  out 
 your  name  as  evil  for  the  Son  of  mafi's  Jake  ? 
 For  furely  if  there  was  any  real  happinefs  in 
 jigure  and  Jhew^    and  worldly  glory  ;    if  thefe 
 things  delervcd  our  thoughts    and    care ,    it 
 could  not  be  matter  of  the  higheji  joy^  when 
 we  are  torn  from  them  by  perjecutions  zn^fuf-^ 
 ferings?  If,  therefore,  a  man  will  fo  live,  as 
 to  ftiew  that  he  feels  and  believes  the  molt 
 fundamental    dodrines     of     Chriftianity,     he 
 muft  live  above  the  w^orld  ?  this  is  the  temper 
 that  muft  enable  him  to  do  the  bufinefs  of 
 life,  and  yet  live  wholly  unto  God,  and  to  go 
 through  ibme  worldly  employment  with  a  hea-^ 
 venly  mind.     Aud  it  is  as  necelfary  that  peo- 
 ple live  in  their  employments  with  this  tem^^ 
 fer^  as  it  is  necefTary  that  their  employment 
 it  felf  be  lawful. 
 
 The  husbandman  that  tilleth  the  ground,  is 
 employed  in  an  honeft  bufinefs,  that  is  necel- 
 fary in  life,  and  very  capable  of  being  made 
 an  acceptable  jervice  unto  God.  But  if  he 
 labours  and  toils,  not  to  ferve  any  rcalbnable 
 ends  of  life,  but  in  order  to  have  his  plow 
 made  oi  Jilver^  and  to  have  his  horfes  harneC- 
 led  in  gold^  the  honefty  of  his  employment 
 is  loft  as  to  him,  and  his  labour  becomes  his 
 
 E  3  A  traief 
 
^4  A  Serious  Call 
 
 A  tradefman  may  juftly  think,   that  it  is 
 ngreeablc  to  the  will  of  God,   for  him  to  fell 
 fuch  things  as  are  innocent  and  ufefnl  in  life, 
 luch  as  help  both  himfelf,    and  others,  to  a 
 reafonable  lupport,  and  enable  them  to  affifb 
 thofe  that  want  to  be  affifted.     But  if  inftead 
 of  this,  he  trades  only  with  regard  to  hlmjelf] 
 without  any  other  rule  than  that  of  his  own 
 temper^  if  it  be  his  chief  end  in  it  to  grow 
 7'khj  that  he  may  live  mjigHre  and  indulgence^ 
 and  be  able  to  retire  from  bufinefs  to  tdlenefs 
 and  luxury^  his  trade,  as  to  him,  loles  all  its 
 hmocency^  and  is  lb  far  from  being  an  accepta- 
 ble fervice  to  God,  that  it  is  only  a  more  plau- 
 lible  courfe  of  covetoujhefs^  felj-^lovc  and  mnhi-^ 
 tion.     For  fuch  a  one  turns  the  neceffities  of 
 employment  into  pride  and  covctoufnels,  jult 
 as  the  Jot  and  epicure  turn  the  neceffities  of 
 eating  and  drinking  into  gluttony  and  drun^ 
 kennefs.     Now  he  that  is  up  early  and  late, 
 that  fweats  and  labours  for  thefe  ends,  that 
 he  may  be  fome  time  or  other  rich,  and  live 
 in  pleafure  and  indulgence^  lives  no  more  to 
 the  glory  of  God ,    than  he  that  plays  and 
 games  for  the  fame  ends.     For  though  there  is 
 a  great  diiference  between  trading  and  gamingy 
 yet  moft  of  that  difference  is  loft,  when  men 
 once  trade  with  the  fame  de fires  and  tempers^ 
 and  for  the  fame  ends  that  others  game.     Cha- 
 rity znAfne  drejftng^  are  things  very  different, 
 but  if  men  give  ahyis  for  the  lame  reafons  that 
 others  drefs  jine^  only  to  be  feen  and  admir'dy 
 charity  is  then  but  like  the  yanity  of  fne 
 0.  cloaths. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life,  5  5 
 
 i^loaths.  In  like  manner,  if  the  iame  motives 
 make  Ibme  people  painful  and  induftrious  in 
 their  trades^  which  make  others  conftant  at 
 gaming^  llich  pains  is  but  like  the  pains  of 
 gaming. 
 
 CaTidiis  has  traded  above  thirty  years  in  the 
 greateft  city  of  the  kingdom  ^  he  has  been  ^o 
 many  years  conftantly  increafing  his  trade  and 
 his  fortune.  Every  hour  of  the  day  is  with 
 him  an  hour  of  bufinels  ^  and  though  he  eats 
 and  dr'iJiks  very  heartily,  yet  every  7neal feems 
 to  be  in  a  hurry,  and  he  would  lay  grace  if 
 he  had  time,  Cal/das  ends  every  day  at  the 
 tavern^  but  has  not  leifure  to  be  there  till  near 
 nine  a  clock.  He  is  always  forc'd  to  drink  a 
 good  hearty  glafs^  to  drive  thoughts  of  bufi- 
 nels out  of  his  head,  and  make  his  Ipirits  drcwjy 
 enough  for  fleep.  He  does  bufinels  all  the 
 time  that  he  is  rifing,  and  has  lettled  leveral 
 matters  before  he  can  get  to  his  cofiiptlng-roofn^ 
 His  prayers  are  a  fhort  ejacalation  or  two, 
 which  he  never  milTes  in  /lormy  te?nj)ef}aous 
 weather,  becaufe  he  has  always  lomething  or 
 other  at  Sea.  Calidus  will  tell  you  with  great 
 plealure,  that  he  has  been  in  this  hurry  for  lb 
 many  years,  and  that  it  muft  have  kill'd  him 
 long  ago,  but  that  it  has  been  a  rule  with- 
 him  to  get  out  of  the  town  every  Saturday^ 
 and  make  the  Sunday  a  day  of  quiet  and  good 
 rejrejhmcnt  in  the  country. 
 
 He  is  now  lb  rich,  that  he  would  leave  off 
 his  bufinels,  and  amufe  his  old  age  with  build- 
 ing and  furnilhing  a  fine  houfe  in  the  country, 
 
 E  4  but 
 
5^ 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 but  that  he  is  afraid  he  fhould  grow  melan^ 
 choly^  if  he  was  to  quit  his  bufinefs.  He  will 
 tell  you  with  great  gravity,  that  it  is  a  dan- 
 gerous thing  for  a  man,  that  has  been  us'd  to 
 get  money,  ever  to  leave  it  off.  If  thoughts 
 of  Religion  happen  at  any  time  to  fteal  into 
 his  head,  CaVtdtis  contents  himfelf  with  think- 
 ing, that  he  never  was  a  friend  to  heretlcks 
 and  infidels^  that  he  has  always  been  civil  to 
 the  Minlfier  of  his  parilh,  and  very  often  gi- 
 ven fomething  to  the  chartty-Jchools. 
 
 Now  this  way  of  life  is  at  fach  a  dijiance 
 from  all  the  dodrines  and  difcipline  of  chri- 
 ftianity,  that  no  one  can  live  in  it  through 
 ignorance  oi  frailty.  Calidus  can  no  more  ima- 
 gine, that  he  is  born  again  oj  the 
 "  "^'  fp^^i^'-)  ^hat  he  is  /;/  Chrifi  a  new 
 iPet.  ii.  II.      creature'^  that  he  lives  here  as  a 
 
 CoUof.  iii.  I.  f^^'%e^  '^'^^  plgrtm,  Jetting  his 
 affe^ions  upon  things  ahove^  and 
 laying  tip  treafures  hi  heaven.  He  can  no  more 
 imagine  this,  than  he  can  think  that  he  has 
 been^all  his  life  an  ApoJiJe^  working  MiracleSy 
 and  preaching  the  GofpeL 
 
 It  muft  alio  be  own'd,  that  the  generality  of 
 trading  people,  efpecially  in  great  townSj  are 
 too  much  like  CaUdus.  You  lee  them  all  the 
 week  bury'd  in  bufinefs,  unable  to  think  of 
 any  thing  elfe ;  and  then  fpending  the  Sunday 
 in  idlenels  and  refrefhment,  in  wandring  into 
 the  country,  in  fuch  vifits  and  jovial  meet- 
 ings, as  make  it  often  the  worft  day  of  the 
 week. 
 
 Now 
 
to  a  T)e^oitt  and  Holy  Life.         5-7 
 
 Now  tlicy  do  not  live  thus,  becaufe  they 
 cannot  lupport  thcmfclvcs  with  lejs  care  and 
 application  to  bufinels  ;  but  they  live  thus^ 
 becaule  tliey  want  to  grow  rich  in  their  trades, 
 and  to  maintain  their  families  in  fomc  fuch 
 jjgtire  and  degree  of  jinery  as  a  reajonahle  Chri" 
 Jiian  life  has  no  occafion  for.  Take  away  but 
 this  temper^  and  then  people  of  all  tradeSy 
 will  find  themfelves  at  lei  lure  to  live  every 
 day  like  Chriftians,  to  be  careful  of  every 
 duty  of  the  Gofpel,  to  live  in  a  vifible  courle 
 of  Religion,  and  be  every  day  ftrict  obfervers 
 both  of  private  and  publick  Prayer. 
 
 Now  the  only  way  to  do  this,  is  for  people 
 toconfider  their  trade  as  fomething  that  they 
 are  oblig'd  to  devote  to  the  glory  of  God, 
 fomething  that  they  are  to  do  only  in  fuch  a 
 manner,  as  that  they  may  make  it  a  duty  to 
 him.  Nothing  can  be  right  in  hufinefs^  that 
 is  not  under  thefe  rules. The  Apoftle  com- 
 mands fervants,  to  he  obedient  to  their  inajters 
 in  jinglenefs  of  heart  as  unto  Chrlji.  Not  with 
 eye-fervtce  as  menfleafers^  but  as  the 
 fervants  of  Chri^^^  doing  the  will  of  ^^f'^^'  ^' 
 God  from  the  heart.  With  goodwill     2.-,  * 
 
 doing  fervice  as  imto  the  Lord^  and 
 tiot  to  men. 
 
 This  pafTage  fufficiently  fhcws,  that  all 
 Chriftiansare  to  live  wholly  unto  God  in  every 
 ftate  and  condition,  doing  the  work  of  their 
 co?nmon  calling  in  fuch  a  manner,  and  for  fuch 
 ends,  as  to  make  it  a  part  of  their  devotion  or 
 fervice  to  God«     For  certainly  M  por  Jlaves 
 
 arc 
 
^8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 arc  not  to  comply  with  their  bufinels  as  men 
 plecifersj  if  they  are  to  look  wholly  unto  God 
 in  all  their  actions,  and  lerve  in  Jingle nefs  of 
 heart  J  as  unto  the  Lord,  furely  men  of  other 
 employments  and  conditions  muft  be  as  much  ob- 
 liged to  go  thro'  their  bufineis  w^ith  the  fame 
 jinglcnefs  of  heart '^  not  as  pleafingthe  vanity  of 
 their  own  minds,  not  as  gratifying  their  own 
 felfifh,  worldly  paflions,  but  as  the  fervants  of 
 God  in  all  that  they  have  to  do.  For  furely 
 no  one  will  fay,  that  a  flave  is  to  devote  his 
 ftate  of  life  unto  God,  and  make  the  will  of 
 God,  thQ^fole  rule  and  end  of  his  fervice,  but 
 that  a  trade/man  need  not  aft  with  the  iame 
 fpirit  of  devotion  in  his  bufinels.  For  this  is 
 as  abfurd  as  to  make  it  neceffary  for  one  man 
 to  be  vnoxQ  jufi  or  faithful  than  another. 
 
 It  is  therefore  abfolutcly  certain,  that  no 
 Chriftian  is  to  enter  any  farther  into  bufinels, 
 nor  for  any  other  ends^  than  fuch  as  he  can  in 
 Jinglenefs  of  heart  offer  unto  God,  as  a  reajona- 
 hie  fervice.  For  the  Son  of  God  has  redeemed 
 us  for  this  only  end^  that  we  fliould  by  a  life 
 of  reajbn  and  fiety  live  to  the  glory  of  God  ; 
 this  is  the  only  rule  and  meafure  for  every  or- 
 der and  ftate  of  life.  Without  this  rule  the 
 moft  lawful  employment,  becomes  a  fnjul 
 ftate  of  life. 
 
 Take  away  this  from  the  life  of  a  Clergy man^ 
 and  his  holy  profeiTion  ferves  only  to  expofe 
 him  to  a  greater  damnation.  Take  away  this 
 from  tradejmen^  and  fhops  are  but  fo  many 
 houfes  of  greedinefs  and  filthy  lucre.     Take 
 
 away 
 
to  a  DeT^out  njid  Holy  Life.         ^p 
 
 a\vay  this  from  gentlemen^  and  the  courfe  of 
 their  life,  becomes  a  courfe  of  fenfuality,  pride 
 and  wantonncfs.  Take  away  this  rule  from 
 our  tables^  and  all  falls  into  gluttony  and 
 drunkennefs.  Take  away  this  mealure  from 
 our  drejs  and  hab'its^  and  all  is  turn'd  into fuch 
 painty  ^nA.  glittery  and  ridiculous  ornaments  as 
 are  a  real  fhame  to  the  wearer.  Take  away 
 this  from  the  ufe  of  o\xx  fortunes y  and  you  will 
 find  people  iparing  in  nothing  but  charity. 
 Take  away  this  from  our  dtverfonsy  and  you 
 will  find  no  Iports  too  filly,  nor  any  entertain- 
 ments too  Vain  and  corrupt  to  be  the  pleafure 
 of  Chriftians. 
 
 If  therefore  we  defire  to  live  unto  God,  it 
 is  neceflary  to  bring  our  whole  Dfe  under  this 
 law,  to  make  his  glory  the  fole  rule  and  ;;2^^- 
 fure  of  our  acling  in  every  employment  of  life. 
 For  there  is  no  other  true  devotion^  but  this  of 
 living  devoted  to  God  in  the  common  bufinefs 
 of  our  lives. 
 
 So  that  men  muft  not  content  themfelves 
 with  the  lawful nefs  of  their  employments,  but 
 muft  confider  whether  they  uje  them,  as  they 
 are  to  ufe  every  things  as  ft  rangers  ?ind  pilgrims  y 
 that  are  baptized  into  the  relurre- 
 ction  of  Jeius  Chrift,  that  are  to     Col.  iii.  i. 
 follow  him  in  a  wife  and  heavenly     t  .^'^'^'^•^y 
 courleot  liie,  in  the  mortification     27. 
 of  all  worldly  defires,and  in  puri- 
 fying and  preparing  their  IbuJs  for  the  blefled 
 enjoyment  of  God. 
 
 For 
 
6o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 For  to  be  vain,  or  proud,  or  covetous,  or 
 ambitious  in  the  common  courje  of  our  bufinefs, 
 is  as  contrary  to  thele  holy  tempers  of  Ghri- 
 ftianity,  as  cheating  and  dilhonefty. 
 
 If  a  glutton  was  to  fay  in  excufe  of  his 
 gluttony,  that  he  only  eats  fuch  things  as  it 
 is  lawful  to  eat,  he  would  make  as  good  an 
 excufe  for  himfclf,  as  the  greedy,  covetous, 
 ambitious  tradefman,  that  ftiould  fay,  he  on- 
 ly deals  in  lawful  bufinels.  For  as  a  Chriftian 
 is  not  only  required  to  be  honeft,  but  to  be  of 
 a  Chriftian y/^/ri/",  and  make  his  life  an  exer- 
 cife  of  humility y  repentance  and  heavenly  afFe- 
 ftion,  fo  all  tempers  that  are  contrary  to  thefe^ 
 are  as  contrary  to  Chriftianity,  as  cheating  is 
 contrary  to  honejiy. 
 
 So  that  the  matter  plainly  comes  to  this,  all 
 irregular  tempers  in  trade  and  hujinefsj  are  but 
 like  irregular  tempers  in  eating  and  drinking, 
 ^roud  vlewSy  and  vain  dejires  in  our  worldly 
 employments,  are  as  truly  vices  and  corrupti- 
 ons, as  hypocrljy  in  prayer,  or  vanity  in  alms. 
 And  there  can  be  no  realbn  given,  why  vanity 
 in  our  almsj  fhould  make  us  odious  to  God, 
 but  what  will  prove  any  other  kind  of  pride 
 to  be  equally  odious.  He  that  labours  and 
 toils  in  a  callings  that  he  may  make  a  figure 
 in  the  world,  and  draw  the  eyes  of  People  up- 
 on the  fplendor  of  his  condition,  is  as  far  from 
 the  pious  humility  of  a  Chriftian,  as  he  that 
 gives  alms  that  he  may  be  feen  of  men.  For 
 the  reafon,  why  pride  and  vanity  in  our 
 prayers  and  alms  renders  them  an  unacceptable 
 
 fcrvice 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        6  t 
 
 fcrvice  to  God,  is  not  becaufc  there  is  any 
 thing  particular  in  prayers  and  alms  that  can- 
 not allow  of  pride,  but  becaufe  pride  is  in  no 
 refpecl,  nor  in  any  thing  made  for  man^^  it 
 dcftroys  the  piety  of  our  prayers  and  alms,  be- 
 caufe it  deftroys  the  piety  of  every  thing  that 
 it  touches,  and  renders  every  action  that  it  go- 
 verns, incapable  of  being  offered  unto  God. 
 
 So  that  if  we  could  fo  divide  our  felves,  as 
 to  be  humble  in  fome  refpeds,  and  proud  in 
 others,  fuch  humility  would  be  of  no  fervice 
 to  us,  becaufe  God  requires  us  as  truly  to  be 
 humble  in  all  our  aBions  and  defigns,  as  to  be 
 true  and  honeft  in  all  our  adions  and  defigns. 
 
 And  as  a  man  is  not  honeit  and  true,  becaufe 
 he  is  fo  to  a  great  many  People,  or  u^on  Jeveral 
 occafions,  but  becaufe  truth  and  honefty  is  the 
 meafiire  of  all  his  dealings  with  every  body; 
 io  the  cafe  is  the  fame  in  humility,  or  any  o- 
 ther  temper,  it  muft  be  the  general  ruling 
 habit  of  our  minds,  and  extend  it  felf  to  all 
 our  aftions  and  defigns,  before  it  can  be  im- 
 puted to  us. 
 
 We  indeed  fometimes  talk,  as  if  a  man 
 might  be  humble  in  fome  things,  and  proud  in 
 others,  humble  in  hrs  ^r<?/j  but  proud  of  his 
 learning^  humble  in  his  perfon^  but  proud  in 
 his  views  and  dcjigns.  But  tho'  this  may  pals 
 in  common  diicourfe,  where  few  things  arc 
 laid  according  to  ftritt  truth,  it  cannot  be  al- 
 lowed when  we  examine  into  the  nature  of  our 
 anions. 
 
 It 
 
62  A  Serious  Call 
 
 It  IS  very  poffiblc  for  a  man  that  lives  by 
 cheating,  to  be  very  punctual  in  paying  for 
 what  he  buys ;  but  then  every  one  is  afTur'd, 
 that  he  docs  Jiot  do  fo,  out  of  any  principle 
 of  true  honefty. 
 
 In  like  manner  it  is  very  pofTible  for  a  man, 
 that  is  proud  of  his  eftate^  ambitious  in  his 
 v'tews^  or  vain  of  his  learnhig^  to  dilregard  his 
 drefs^  and  perjon^  in  fuch  a  manner  as  a  truly 
 humble  man  would  do-  but  to  luppofe  that 
 he  does  fo  out  of  a  true  principle  of  religious 
 humility,  is  full  as  abfurd,  as  to  fuppofe  that 
 a  cheat  pays  for  what  he  buys,  out  of  a  prin- 
 ciple of  religious  honefty. 
 
 As  therefore  all  kinds  of  diftionefty  deftroy 
 our  pretences  to  an  hone  ft  principle  of  mind, 
 fo  all  kinds  of  pride  deftroy  our  pretences  to 
 an  humble  J p'lrtt. 
 
 No  one  wonders  that  thofe  prayers^  and 
 alms^  which  proceed  from  pride  and  oftentation 
 are  odious  to  God ;  but  yet  it  is  as  eafie  to 
 Ihew,  that  pride  is  as  pardonable  there,  as 
 any  where  elfe. 
 
 If  we  could  fuppofe,  that  God  rejects  pride 
 in  our  prayers  and  ahns^  but  bears  with  pride 
 in  our  drefs^  our  perfons^  or  efiates^  it  would 
 be  the  fame  thing  as  to  fuppofe  that  God  con- 
 demns falfhood  in  Ibme  actions,  but  allows  it  in 
 others.  For  pride  in  one  thing  differs  from 
 pride  in  another  thing,  as  the  robbing  of 
 one  man  differs  from  the  robbing  of  ano-* 
 ther. 
 
 Again^ 
 
to  a  Devout  audHoly  Life.  63 
 
 Agiiin,  if  pride  and  often  tat  ion  is  fo  oclious 
 that  it  dcftroys  the  merif  and  wortb  of  the 
 moft  reafonablc  actions,  liircly  it  muft  be  c- 
 qually  odious  in  thole  aft  ions,  which  are  only 
 founded  in  the  vjcahjcfs  and  hijirmlty  of  our 
 nature.  As  thus,  alms  arc  commanded  by  God, 
 as  excellent  in  themfelves,  as  true  inftances  of 
 a  divine  temper,  but  cloaths  are  only  allow'd 
 to  cover  our  ftiame ;  furely  therefore  it  muft 
 at  leaft  be  as  odious  a  degree  of  pride  to 
 be  vain  in  our  cloaths^  as  to  be  vain  in  our 
 alms. 
 
 Again,  we  are  commanded  to  pray  without 
 ceafing^  as  a  means  of  rendering  our  ibuls  more 
 exalted  and  divine,  but  we  are  forbidden  to 
 lay  up  treajhres  upon  earth  j  and  can  we  think 
 that  it  is  not  as  bad,  to  be  vain  of  thofe  trea- 
 furcs^  which  we  3.1^  forbidden  to  lay  up,  as  to 
 be  vain  of  thofe  prayers^  which  we  are  com^ 
 rnanded  to  make. 
 
 Women  are  required  to  have  \\\€\x  heads  cover' d^ 
 and  to  adorn  thcmiclvQs\\ithJl:?amefacedneys'^  if 
 therefore  they  are   vain    in  thole 
 things  which  are  exprefly  forbidden,      ^^^^^*  ^^* 
 if  they  patch  and  paint  that  part,      i^Tim.ii.  9. 
 w^hich  can  only  be  adorn'd  hj  fjame- 
 facednefs^  furely  they  have  as  much  to  repent 
 of  for  fuch  a  pride,    as  they  have,  whofe  pricie 
 is   the    motive  to  their  prayers  and  charity. 
 This  muft  be  granted,  unlefs  we  will  fay,  that 
 it  is  more  pardonable  to  glory  in  our  Jhanrcy 
 ^han  to  glory  in  our  v'lrtuc, 
 
 AU 
 
64  A  Serious  Call 
 
 All  thefe  inftances  are  only  to  fliew  us  the 
 great  neceffity  of  fuch  a  regular  and  uniform 
 piety,  as  extends  it  felf  to  all  the  adions  of 
 our  common  life. 
 
 That  we  muft  eat^  and  drluky  and  drefs  and 
 ^jfcourfe  according  to  the  ibbriety  of  the  Chri-^ 
 ftian  Ipirit,  engage  in  no  employments  but 
 fuch  as  we  can  truly  devote  unto  God,  nor 
 purine  them  any  farther,  than  io  far  as  condu- 
 ces to  the  realbnable  ends  of  a  holy  devout 
 life. 
 
 That  we  muft  be  honefl^  not  only  on  fartU 
 cidar  occafions,  and  in  fuch  inftances  as  are  ap- 
 f  lauded  in  the  world,  eafy  to  be  performed  and 
 free  from  danger^  or  lojs^  but  from  fuch  a  /;- 
 vlng  principle  of  juftice,  as  makes  us  love  truth 
 and  integrity  in  all  its  injiancesy  follow  it 
 through  all  dangers,  and  againft  all  oppoliti- 
 on  \  as  knowing  that  the  more  we  pay  for  a- 
 ny  truth,  the  better  is  our  bargain^  and  that 
 then  our  integrity  becomes  a  pearly  when  we 
 have  parted  with  all  to  keep  it. 
 
 That  we  muft  be  hnmhley  not  only  in  fuch 
 inftances  as  are  expeBedm  the  world,  oy //uta^ 
 hie  to  our  tempers,  or  confined  to  particular 
 oecafions,  but  in  fuch  an  humility  of  fpirit,as 
 renders  us  meek  and  lowly  in  the  whole  courfe 
 of  our  lives,  as  fliews  it  felf  in  our  drefs^  our 
 ferfoHy  our  conv^rfatioUj  our  enjoyment  of  the 
 world,  the  tratiqiitlity  of  our  minds,  patience 
 under  myantSj  fubmijjion  to  fuperiors^  and  conr^ 
 detentions  to  thofe  that  are  below  us,  and  in 
 all  the  outward  actions  of  our  lives. 
 
 That 
 
to  a  Ve^vont  and  Holy  Life.        6^ 
 
 That  we  muft  devote,  not  only  times  and 
 f  laces  to  prayer,  but  be  every- where  in  the 
 Jplrit  of  devotion,  with  hearts  always  let  to- 
 wards heaven,  looking  up  to  God  in  all  our 
 aftions,  and  doing  every  thing  as  his  fervants, 
 living  in  the  world  as  in  a  holy  temple  of  God, 
 and  always  worfhipping  him,  though  not  with, 
 our  lips,  yet  with  the  thankfulnefs  of  our 
 hearts,  the  hollnefs  of  our  aftions,  and  the 
 fious  and  charitable  ufe  of  all  his  gifts.  Th'at 
 we  muft  not  only  lend  up  petitions  and 
 thoughts  now  and  then  to  heaven,  but  mult 
 go  through  all  our  worldly  bufinefs  with  aa 
 heavenly  fpirit,  as  members  of  Chrift's  myfti- 
 cal  body,  that  with  new  hearts^  and  new 
 minds ^  are  to  turn  an  earthly  life  into  a  pre- 
 paration for  a  life  of  greatnels  and  glory  ia 
 the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
 
 Now  the  only  way  to  arrive  at  this  piety 
 of  fpirit,  is  to  bring  all  your  actions  to  the 
 Jhme  rule  as  your  devotions  3.nd  alms.  You  ve- 
 ry well  know  what  it  is,  that  makes  the  pety 
 of  your  alms  or  devotions  ;  now  the  lame 
 rules,  the  fame  regard  to  God,  muft  render 
 every  thing  elfe  that  you  do,  a  lit  and  accep- 
 table fervice  unto  God. 
 
 Enough,  I  hope,  has  been  laid,  to  Ihew 
 you  the  necellity  of  thus  introducing  Religion 
 into  all  the  anions  of  your  common  life,  and 
 of  living  and  acting  with  the  fame  regard  to 
 God  in  all  that  you  do,  as  in  your  prayers 
 and  alms. 
 
 Eating 
 
66  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Eating  IS  one  of  the  lovveft  aftions  of  our 
 lives,  it  is  common  to  us  with  mere  aynmahy 
 yet  we  fee  that  the  piety  of  all  ages  of  the 
 world,  has  turned  this  ordinary  action  of  an 
 animal  life,  into  a  ftety  to  God,  by  making 
 every  meal  to  begin  and  end  with  devotion. 
 
 We  fee  yet  fome  remains  of  this  cuftom  in 
 moft  chriftian  families;  fome  liich  little  for^ 
 malltyj  as  fhews  you,  that  people  us'd  to  call 
 upon  God  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  their 
 meals.  But,  indeed,  it  is  now  generally  Hy 
 performed,  as  to  look  more  like  a  mockery  up- 
 on devotion,  than  any  jblemn  application  of 
 the  mind  unto  God.  In  one  houfe  you  may 
 perhaps  lee  the  head  of  the  family  juft  pulling 
 off  his  hat^  in  another  half  getting  up  from 
 his  feat ;  another  ftiall,  it  may  be,  proceed  fo 
 far,  as  to  make  as  if  he  faid  fomethlng  \  but, 
 however,  thele  little  attempts  are  the  remains 
 of  fome  devotion  that  was  formerly  us'd  at 
 fuch  times,  and  are  proofs  that  religion  has 
 formerly  belonged  to  this  part  of  common 
 life. 
 
 But  to  fuch  a  pafs  are  we  now  come,  that 
 though  the  cuftom  is  yet  prefer v'd,  yet  we 
 can  hardly  hear  with  him,  that  feems  to  per- 
 form it  with  any  degree  of  fcrloufnefs^  and 
 look  upon  it  as  a  fign  of  a  fanatical  temper, 
 if  a  man  has  not  done  as  foon  as  he  begins. 
 
 I  would  not  be  thought  to  plead  for  the 
 neceffity  of  long  prayers  at  thefe  times  ;  but 
 thus  much  I  think  may  be  faid,  that  if 
 prayer  is  proper  at  thele  times,  w^  ought  to 
 
 oblige 
 
to  a  Dczfont  artel  Holy  Life.        6j 
 
 oblige  our  Iclves  to  ufe  liich  a  form  of  words, 
 as  Ihould  fhew,  that  wc  folemnly  appeal  to 
 God  for  fiich  graces  and  blcflings  as  arc  thca 
 proper  to  the  occafion.  Otherwife  the  mock 
 ceremony,  inftead  of  bleffing  our  victuals, 
 does  but  accuftom  us  to  trifle  with  devotion, 
 and  give  us  a  habit  of  being  unaffeded  with 
 our  prayers. 
 
 If  every  head  of  a  family  was,  at  the  re- 
 turn of  every  meal.,  to  oblige  himfelf  to  make 
 a  folemn  adoration  of  God,  in  fuch  a  decent 
 manner,  as  becomes  a  devout  mind,  it  would 
 be  very  likely  to  teach  him,  that  Jivearlngy 
 fenfuality^  gluttony^  and  loofe  dilcourfe,  were 
 very  improper  at  thofe  meals,  which  were  to 
 heo-'in  and  end  with  devotion. 
 
 And  if  in  thefe  days  of  general  corruption, 
 this  part  of  devotion  is  fallen  into  a  ^nock  ce- 
 remony ,  it  muft  be  imputed  to  this  caufe, 
 that  Jenfuality  and  intemperance  have  got  too 
 great  a  power  over  us,  to  fuffer  us  to  add  any 
 devotion  to  our  meals.  But  thus  much  muft 
 be  faid,  that  when  we  are  as  pious  as  yews 
 and  Heathens  of  all  ages  have  been,  we  fhall 
 think  it  proper  to  pray  at  the  beginning  and 
 end  of  our  meals. 
 
 I  have  appealed  to  this  pious  cuftom  of  all 
 ages  of  the  world,  as  a  proof  of  tfie  rcafona- 
 blcnels  of  the  dodrine  of  this  and  the  fore- 
 going chapters;  that  is,  as  a  proof  that  reli- 
 gion is  to  be  the  rule  and  meajure  of  all  the 
 adions  of  ordinary  life.  For  lurely,  if  we  are 
 not  to  eaty  but  under  fucli  rules  of  devotion, 
 
 V    2  it 
 
68  A  Serious  Call 
 
 it  muft  plainly  appear,  that  whatever  elfe  we 
 do,  muft  in  its  proper  way,  be  done  with  the 
 fame  regard  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  agreea- 
 bly to  the  principles  of  a  devout  and  pious 
 mind. 
 
 CHAP.     V. 
 
 ^erfons  that  are  free  from  the  necejjity  of  la- 
 bour, and  employments^  are  to  conjtder  them-- 
 felves  as  devoted  to  God  m  a  higher  degree. 
 
 GReat  part  of  the  world  are  free  from  the 
 neceffitics  of  labour  and  employments, 
 ana  have  their  time  and  fortunes  in  their  own 
 difpofal. 
 
 But  as  no  one  is  to  live  in  his  employment 
 according  to  his  own  humour,  or  for  fuch 
 ends  as  pleafe  his  own  fancy,  but  is  to  do  all 
 his  bufinefs  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  to  make  it 
 a  fervice  unto  God ;  io  thofe  who  have  no 
 particular  employment,  are  lb  far  from  being 
 left  at  greater  liberty  to  live  to  themlelves,  to 
 purfue  their  own  humours,  and  fpend  their 
 time  and  fortunes  as  they  pleafe,  that  they 
 are  under  greater  obligations  of  living  wholly 
 unto  God  in  all  their  actions. 
 
 Tho,  freedom  of  their  ftate  lays  them  under 
 a  greater  necejjity  of  always  chufing  and  doing 
 the  heji  things. 
 
 They 
 
to  a  Ve^ont  and  Holy  Life.        6p 
 
 They  are  thofe,  of  whom  9m^ch  zvUl  he  re-^ 
 qui/d^  becaufe  much  is  given  unto  them, 
 
 KJlave  can  only  live  unto  God  in  one  /'^r- 
 ticular  way ;  that  is,  by  religious  patience 
 and  fubmiffion  in  his  ftate  of  flavery. 
 
 But  all  ways  of  holy  living,  all  inftances, 
 and  all  kinds  of  virtue,  lie  open  to  thofe,  who 
 are  mailers  of  themfelves,  their  time  and 
 their  fortune. 
 
 It  is  as  much  the  duty,  therefore,  of  fuch 
 perfons,  to  make  a  wife  ufe  of  their  liberty, 
 to  devote  themfelves  to  all  kinds  of  virtue, 
 to  afpire  after  every  thing  that  is  holy  and 
 pious,  to  endeavour  to  be  eminent  in  all  good 
 works,  and  to  pleafe  God  in  the  higheft  and 
 moft  perfeft  manner;  it  is  as  much  their  duty 
 to  be  thus  wile  in  the  condud  of  themfelves, 
 and  thus  extenfive  in  their  endeavours  after 
 holinefs,  as  it  is  the  duty  of  -xjlave  to  be  re^ 
 jjgn'd  unto  God  in  his  ftate  of  flavery. 
 
 You  are  no  labourer^  or  tradefman^  you  are 
 neither  merchajit^  nor  foldler  ;  confide r  your 
 felf,  therefore,  as  plac'd  in  a  ftate,  in  fome 
 degree  like  that  of  good  angels^  who  are  fent 
 into  the  world  as  fnmijiring  fpirits^  for  the 
 general  good  of  mankind,  to  ajjijl^  protect 
 and  mimjler  for  them  who  fhall  be  heirs  of 
 falvation. 
 
 For  the  more  you  are  free  from  the  coynmon 
 neceflities  of  men^  the  more  you  are  to  imi- 
 tate the  higher  perfedions  of  angels. 
 
 Had  you,  Serena^  been  obliged  by  the  ne- 
 ceflities of  life^  to  wafli  cloaths  for  your  main- 
 
 F  3  tenance. 
 
yo  A  Serious  C  a  L  n 
 
 tenance,  or  to  wait  upon  fome  mijtrefs^  that 
 demanded  all  your  labour^  it  would  then  be 
 your  duty  to  ferve  and  glorify  God,  by  fuch 
 humUlty^  obedience^  and  fatthfulnefs^  as  might 
 adorn  that  ftate  of  life. 
 
 It  would  then  be  recommended  to  your 
 care,  to  improve  that  one  talent  to  its  greateft 
 height.  That  when  the  time  came  ,  that, 
 mankind  were  to  be  rewarded  for  their  la- 
 bours by  the  great  Judge  of  quick  and  dead, 
 you  might  be  received  with  a  well  done  good 
 
 and  faith  fill  fervant ,   enter   thoiir 
 St.  Mat.xxv.       .^^^^  ^j^^'^^y  ^^  ^j^y  ^^^.j^ 
 
 But  as  God  has  given  you  jive  talents^  as 
 he  has  placed  you  above  the  neceffities  of 
 life,  as  he  has  left  you  in  the  hands  of  your 
 felf,  in  the  happy  liberty  of  chufing  the  moll 
 exalted  ways  of  virtue,  as  he  has  enrich'd  you 
 with  many  gifts  of  fortune,  and  left  you  no- 
 thing to  do,  but  to  make  the  beft  ufe  of  va- 
 riety of  bleffings,  to  make  the  moft  of  a 
 fhort  life,  to  ftudy  your  own  perfedion,  the 
 honour  of  God,  and  the  good  of  your  neigh- 
 bour; fc  it  is  now  your  duty  to  imitate  the 
 greateft  fervants  of  God,  to  enquire  how  the 
 moft  eminent  faints  have  Jiv'd,  to  ftudy  all 
 the  arts  and  methods  of  perfection,  and  to  fet 
 no  bounds  to  your  love  and  gratitude  to  the 
 bountiful  author  of  fo  many  bleffings. 
 
 It  is  now  your  duty  to  turn  yowxjive  talents 
 into  five  more,  and  to  confider  how  your  fune^ 
 and  leifure^  and  healthy  and  fortune^  may  be 
 jnade  fo  many  happy  means  of  purifying  your 
 
 own 
 
to  a  T)e^oHt  and  Holy  Life.        7 1 
 
 own  foul,  improving  your  fellow-creatures  fn 
 the  ways  of  virtue,  and  of  carrying  you  at 
 laft  to  the  greateft  heights  of  eternal  glory. 
 
 As  you  have  no  in'ifirefs  to  fervc,  lb  let 
 your  own  foul  be  the  object  of  your  daily 
 care  and  attendance.  Be  ibrry  for  its  impu- 
 rities, its  fpots  and  imperfcdions,  and  ftudy 
 all  the  holy  arts  of  reftoring  it  to  its  natural 
 and  primitive  purity. 
 
 Delight  in  its  fervice,  and  beg  of  God  to 
 adorn  it  with  every  grace  and  perfedion. 
 
 Nourifli  it  with  good  works j  give  it  peace  in 
 folittide^  get  it  Itrength  in  prayer^  make  it 
 wife  with  readings  enlighten  it  by  meditation^ 
 make  it  tender  with  love^  fweeten  it  w^ith  ha- 
 mlUty ^  humble  it  with  penance^  enliven  it 
 with  '^falms  and  Hymns j  and  comfort  it  with 
 frequent  rejie&lons  upon  future  glory.  Keep 
 it  in  the  frefence  of  God,  and  teach  it  to  imi- 
 tate thofe  guardian  angels^  which  though  they 
 attend  on  human  affairs,  and  the  loweft  of 
 mankind,  yet  always  behold  the 
 jace  oj  our  rather  which  ts  m  ^^ 
 heaven. 
 
 This,  Serena^  is  your  profeffion.  For  as 
 fure  as  God  is  one  God,  fo  lure  is  it,  that  he 
 has  but  one  command  to  all  mankind,  whe- 
 ther they  be  bond  or  free,  rich  or  poor ;  and 
 that  is,  to  aft  up  to  the  excellency  of  that  na- 
 ture which  he  has  given  them,  to  live  by 
 rcafon^  to  walk  in  the  Tight  of  religion,  to 
 ufe  every  thing  as  wifdom  direfts,  to  glorify 
 
 F  4  God 
 
^^  A  Serious  Call 
 
 God  in  all  his  gifts,  and  dedicate  every  con- 
 dition of  life  to  his  fervice. 
 
 This  is  the  one  common  command  of  God  to 
 all  mankind.  If  you  have  an  employment, 
 you  are  to  be  thus  reafonable,  and  pious  and 
 holy  in  the  exercife  of  it ;  if  you  have  time 
 and  a  fortune  in  your  own  power,  you  are 
 oblig'd  to  be  thus  reafonable,  and  holy,  and 
 pious,  in  the  ufe  of  all  your  time,  and  all 
 your  fortune. 
 
 The  right  rehgious  ufe  of  every  thing,  and 
 every  talent,  is  the  indilpenfable  duty  of 
 every  being  that  is  capable  of  knowing  right 
 and  wrong. 
 
 For  the  reafon  why  we  are  to  do  any  things 
 as  unto  God,  and  with  regard  to  our  duty, 
 and  relation  to  him,  is  the  fame  reafon  why 
 we  are  to  do  every  thing  as  unto  God,  and 
 with  regard  to  our  duty ,  and  relation  to 
 him. 
 
 That  which  is  a  realbft  for  our  being  wife 
 and  holy  in  the  difcharge  of  all  our  hujinejsy 
 is  the  fame  realbn  for  our  being  wife  and  hply 
 in  the  ufe  of  all  our  money. 
 
 As  we  have  always  the  fame  natures,,  and 
 are  every-where  the  fervants  of  the  fame  God, 
 as  every  place  is  equally  full  of  his  prefence, 
 and  every  thing  is  equally  his  gift,  io  w^e  mull 
 always  ad  according  to  the  realbn  of  our  na- 
 ture ^  we  muil  do  every  thing  as  the  fervants 
 of  Godj  we  muft  live  in  every  place,  as  in 
 his  prefence ;  we  muft  ufe  every  thing,  as  that 
 ^ught  to  be  us'd,  which  belongs  to  God. 
 
 Either 
 
to  a  De^oHt  and  Holy  Life.        7  5 
 
 Either  this  piety^  and  wifdom,  and  devotion 
 is  to  go  thro'  every  way  of  life,  and  to  extend 
 to  the  ufe  of  every  thing,  or  it  is  to  go  through 
 no  part  of  life. 
 
 If  we  might  forget  our  Jehes ,  or  forget 
 God,  if  we  might  difregard  our  reafon,  and 
 live  by  humonr  and  fcuicy  in  any  thing,  or  at 
 any  time,  or  in  any  place,  it  would  be  as  law- 
 ful to  do  the  fame  in  every  thing,  at  every 
 time,  and  every  place. 
 
 If  therefore  fome  People  fancy,  that  they 
 mull  be  grave  and  folemn  at  Churchy  but  may 
 htjilly  and  frantkk  at  home;  that  they  muft 
 live  by  Ibme  rule  on  the  Sunday^  but  may  fpend 
 other  days  by  chance;  that  they  mull  have 
 fome  times  of  '^Prayer ^  but  may  wafte  the  reft 
 of  their  time  as  they  pleafe,  that  they  muft 
 give  fome  money  in  charity^  but  may  fquan- 
 der  away  the  reft  as  they  have  a  mind  ;  luch 
 People  have  not  enough  confider'd  the  nature 
 of  Religion,  or  the  true  reafons  of  Piety, 
 For  he  that  upon  principles  of  realbn  can  tell, 
 why  it  is  good  to  be  wife  and  heavenly-min- 
 ded at  Churchy  can  tell  that  it's  always  dcfira- 
 ble,  to  h^.YQXhQ  Jhne  tempers  m  all  other  places. 
 He  that  truly  knows,  why  he  ftiould  fpcnd 
 any  time  well,  knows  that  it  is  never  allowa- 
 ble to  throw  anytime  away.  He  that  rig;htly 
 underftands  the  reaibnablenefs,  and  excellen- 
 cy of  Charity^  will  know,  that  it  can  never 
 be  excufable  to  wafte  any  of  our  money  in 
 pride  and  folly,  or  in  any  needlefs  expenccs. 
 
 For 
 
74  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 For  every  argument  that  fliews  the  vvilciom 
 and  excellency  of  Charity,  proves  the  wifdom 
 of  fpending  M  our  fortune  well.  Every  ar- 
 gument that  proves  the  wifdom  and  reafona- 
 blenefs  of  having  times  of  prayer,  fhews  the 
 wifdom  and  reafonablenefs  of  lofing  none  of 
 our  time. 
 
 If  any  one  could  {hew,  that  we  need  not 
 always  ad  as  in  the  divine  prelence,  that  we 
 need  not  confider  and  ufe  every  thing j  as  the 
 gift  of  God,  that  we  need  not  always  live  by 
 reafon,  and  make  Religion  the  rule  of  all  our 
 adions,  the  fame  arguments  would  Ihew,  that 
 we  need  never  aft  as  in  the  prefence  of  God, 
 nor  make  Religion  and  reafon  the  meafure  of 
 any  of  our  aftions.  If  therefore  we  are  to 
 live  unto  God  at  any  time,  or  in  any  place^ 
 we  are  to  live  unto  him  at  all  times,  and  all 
 places.  If  we  are  to  ufe  any  thing  as  the  gift 
 of  God,  we  are  to  ufe  every  thing  as  his  gift. 
 If  we  are  to  do  any  thing  by  ftrift  rules  of  rea- 
 fon and  piety,  we  are  to  do  every  thing  in  the 
 fame  manner.  Becaufe  reafon^  and  wlfdoniy 
 and  pety  are  as  much  the  beft  things  at  all 
 times ^  and  in  all  places^  as  they  are  the  beft 
 things  at  any  tlme^  or  in  a?iy  place. 
 
 If  it  is  our  glory  and  happinefs  to  have  a 
 rational  nature^  that  is  endued  with  wifdom 
 and  reafon,  that  is  capable  of  imitating  the 
 Divine  nature,  then  it  muft  be  our  glory  and 
 happinefs,  to  improve  our  reafon  and  wifdom, 
 to  aft  up  to  the  excellency  of  our  rational 
 nature,  and  to  imitate  God  in  all  our  aftions, 
 to  the  utmoft  of  our  power.     They  therefore 
 
 who 
 
to  a  Vevout  and  Holy  Life.         7  5 
 
 who  confine  Religion  to  tmes  and  places^  and 
 fome  little  rules  of  retirement ^  who  think  that 
 it  is  being  too  ftrid  and  rigid  to  introduce  re- 
 ligion into  common  life^  and  make  it  give  laws 
 to  all  their  actions  and  ways  of  living,  they 
 who  think  thus,  not  only  miftakc,  but  they 
 miftake  the  whole  nature  of  Religion.  For 
 furely  they  miftake  the  whole  nature  of  Reli- 
 gion, who  can  think,  any  part  of  their  life  is 
 made  more  eafy,  for  being  free  from  it.  They 
 may  well  be  faid  to  miftake  the  whole  nature 
 of  wifdom,  who  don't  think  it  defireablc,  to 
 be  always  wife.  He  has  not  learnt  the  nature 
 of  piety,  who  thinks  it  too  much  to  be  pious 
 in  all  his  aftions.  He  does  not  i'ufficiently  un- 
 derftand  what  reafon  is,  w^ho  does  not  earneftly 
 defire  to  live  in  every  thing  according  to  it. 
 
 If  we  had  a  Religion  that  confift-ed  in  abfurd 
 fuperftitions,  that  had  no  regard  to  the  per- 
 feftion  of  our  nature.  People  might  well  be 
 glad  to  have  fome  part  of  their  life  excufed 
 from  it.  But  as  the  Religion  of  the  Gofpel 
 is  only  the  reiSnement,  and  exaltation  of  our 
 beft  faculties,  as  it  only  requires  a  life  of  the 
 higheft  Rcafbn,  as  it  only  requires  us  to  ufe  this 
 w^orld  as  ia  reafon  it  ought  to  be  ufcd,  to  live 
 in  fuch  tempers  as  are  the  glory  of  intelligent 
 beings,  to  walk  in  fuch  wifdo?n  as  exalts  our 
 nature,  and  to  praftife  fuch  piety,  as  will 
 raife  us  to  God;  who  can  think  it  grievous,  to 
 live  always  in  the  fpirit  of  fuch  a  Religion, 
 to  have  eveyy  part  of  his  life  full  of  it,  but 
 he  that  would  think  it  much  more  grievous, 
 to  be  as  the  Angels  of  God  in  heaven  ? 
 
 Farther, 
 
y6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Farther,  as  God  is  one  and  the  fame  being, 
 always  afting  like  himfelf,  and  fuitably  to  his 
 own  nature,  fo  it  is  the  duty  of  every  being 
 that  he  has  created,  to  live  according  to  the 
 nature  that  he  has  given  it,  and  always  to  aft 
 like  it  felf. 
 
 It  is  therefore  an  immutable  law  of  God, 
 that  all  rational  beings  fhould  aft  reafonably 
 in  all  their  aftions  ;  not  at  this  time^  or  in  that 
 flace^  or  upon  this  occajion^  or  in  theufe  of 
 fome  particular  thing,  but  at  all  times,  in  all 
 places,  at  all  occafions,  and  in  the  ufe  of  all 
 things.  This  is  a  law  that  is  as  unchangeable  as 
 God,  and  can  no  more  ceafe  to  be,  than  God 
 can  ceale  to  be  a  God  of  wifdom  and  order. 
 
 When  therefore  any  being  that  is  endued 
 with  rcaibn,  does  an  tinreafonahle  thing  at  any 
 time,  or  in  any  place,  or  in  the  ufe  of  any 
 thing,  it  fins  againft  the  great  law  of  its  na- 
 ture, abufes  its  felf,  and  fins  againft  God  the 
 author  of  that  nature. 
 
 They  therefore  who  plead  for  tndiilgefKes  and 
 vanities^  for  any  fooVijh  fafhions,  cufloms  and 
 humours  of  the  world,  for  the  mifufe  of  our 
 t'lrne  or  money ^  plead  for  a  rebellion  againft 
 our  nature,  for  a  rebellion  againft  God,  who 
 has  given  us  reafon  for  no  other  end,  than  to 
 make  it  the  rule  and  niecifure  of  all  our  ways 
 of  life. 
 
 When  therefore  you  are  guilty  of  any  folly 
 or  extravagance^  or  indulge  any  vain  temper, 
 don't  confider  it  as  a  fmall  matter,  becaufe  it 
 may  fcem  lb,  if  compared  to  fome  other  fins ; 
 
 but 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        yj 
 
 but  confider  it,  as  it  is  ading  contrary  to  your 
 nature^  and  then  you  will  lee  that  that  there 
 IS  nothing y;/2(^//,  tlvMis  tin reafonabk.  Becaufc 
 all  unrealbnable  ways,  are  contrary  to  the  na- 
 ture of  all  rational  beings,  whether  men^  or 
 j4ngels.  Neither  of  which  can  be  any  longer 
 agreeable  to  God,  than  fo  fir  as  they  ad  accor- 
 ding to  the  reafon  and  excellence  of  their  na- 
 ture. 
 
 The  infirmities  of  human  life  make  fuch 
 food  and  raiment  neceflary  for  us,  as  Angels  do 
 not  want ;  but  then  it  is  no  more  allowable  for 
 us  to  turn  thefe  neceflities  into  follies^  and  in- 
 dulge our  felves  in  the  luxury  of  food j  or  the 
 vanities  of  drejs^  than  it  is  allowable  for  An- 
 gels to  ad  below  the  dignity  of  their  proper 
 ftate.  For  a  realbnable  life,  and  a  wife  ufe  of 
 our  proper  condition,  is  as  much  the  duty  of 
 all  men^  as  it  is  the  duty  of  all  Jngels  and  /;;- 
 tclTtgent  beings.  Thefe  are  not  Jpecalative 
 flights,'  or  imaginary  notions,  but  are  plain 
 and  iindeniahle  law^^  that  are  founded  in  the  na-- 
 ture  of  rational  beings,  who  as  luch  are  obli- 
 ged to  live  by  reafon,  and  glorify  God  by  a 
 continual  right  ufe  of  their  feveral  talents  and 
 faculties.  So  that  tho'  men  are  not  Angels^ 
 yet  they  may  know  for  what  ends,  and  by 
 what  rules  men  are  to  live  and  ad,  by  confider- 
 ing  the  ftate  and  perfedion  of  Angels.  Our 
 blelTed  Saviour  has  plainly  turn 'dour  thoughts 
 this  way,  by  making  this  petition  a  conftant 
 part  of  all  our  Prayers,  I'hy  will  he  done  on 
 earth  y  as  it  is  in  heaven.     A  plain  proof,  that 
 
 4  the 
 
yS  A  Serious  Call 
 
 the  obedience  of  me^^j  is  to  imitate  the  obedi- 
 ence of  yhgelsj  and  that  rational  beings  on 
 earth,  are  to  live  unto  God,  as  rational  beings 
 in  Heaven  live  unto  him. ' 
 
 When  therefore  you  would  reprefent  to 
 your  mind,  how  Chriftians  ought  to  live  unto 
 God,  and  in  what  degrees  of  wifdom  and 
 holinels,  they  ought  to  ufe  the  things  of  this 
 life,  you  muft  not  look  at  the  world,  but  you 
 mull  lookup  to  God,  and  the  fociety  of  Angels, 
 and  think  what  wifdom  and  holinefs  is  fit  to 
 prepare  you  for  fuch  a  ftate  of  glory.  You 
 muft  look  to  all  the  hlgheji  precepts  of  the 
 Gofpel,  you  muft  examine  your  felf  by  the 
 fpirit  of  Chrift,  you  muft  think  how  the  wt- 
 Jefl  men  in  the-  world  have  liv'd,  you  muft 
 think  how  departed  folds  would  live,  if  they 
 were  again  to  a6l  the  Ihort  part  of  human 
 life,  you  muft  think  what  degrees  of  wiidom 
 and  holinefs,  you  will  wifh  for,  when  you  are 
 leaving  the  World. 
 
 Now  all  this  is  not  over-ftraining  the  mat- 
 ter, or  propofing  to  our  felves,  any  needlefi 
 perfection.  It  is  but  barely  complying  with 
 the  Apoftle's  advice,  where  he  fays.  Finally^ 
 brethren ,  whatjbever  things  are  true^  what- 
 fcever  things  are  juft^  whatjbever  things  are 
 .  pure  J  whatfoever  things  are  oj  good 
 
 report'^  if  there  be  any  virtue^  and 
 if  there  he  a^iy  praife^  think  on  thefe  things. 
 For  no  one  can  come  near  the  doftrine  of  this 
 paffage,  but  he  that  propofcs  to  himfelf  to  do 
 
 every 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        j^ 
 
 every  thing  in  this  life  as  the  fervant  of  God, 
 to  live  by  reafon  in  every  thing  that  he  does, 
 and  to  make  the  wifdom  and  hohnefs  of  the 
 Gofpel,  the  rule  and  mealiire  of  his  defiring 
 and  ufing  every  gift  of  God. 
 
 C  HA  P.     VI. 
 
 Containing  the  great  cbligatlonsy  and  the  great 
 advantages  of  making  a  wife  and  religious  ufe 
 of  our  eftates  and  fortunes. 
 
 AS  the  holinefs  of  Chriftianity  confecrates 
 all  flates  and  employments  of  life  unto 
 God,  as  it  requires  us  to  afpire  after  an  uni- 
 verfal  obedience,  doing  and  ufing  every  thing 
 as  the  fervants  of  God,  fo  are  we  more  efpe- 
 cially  oblig'd  to  obferve  this  religious  exaft- 
 nels,  in  the  ufe  of  our  eftates  d,nd  fortunes. 
 
 The  reafon  of  this  would  appear  very  plain, 
 if  we  were  only  to  confider,  that  our  eftate  is 
 as  much  the  gift  of  God,  as  our  eyeSj  or  our 
 hands  J  and  is  no  more  to  be  buried,  or  thrown, 
 away  at  pleafure,  than  we  are  to  put  out  our 
 eyes,  or  throw  away  our  limbs,  as  we  pleafe. 
 
 But  befides  this  confideration,  there  are 
 feveral  other  great  and  important  realbns, 
 why  we  ihould  be  religioufly  exad  in  the  uie 
 of  our  eftates. 
 
 Flrf, 
 
8o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Fir  ft  y  Becaufe  the  manner  of  ufing  our 
 money,  or  ipending  our  eftate,  enters  lb  far 
 into  the  bufinefs  of  every  day,  and  makes  fo 
 great  a  part  of  our  common  life,  that  our 
 common  life  muft  be  much  of  the  fame  nature, 
 as  our  common  way  of  fpending  our  eftate.  If 
 reafon  and  religion  govern  us  in  this,  then 
 realbn  and  religion  hath  got  great  hold  of  us  ; 
 but  if  humour y  pride ^  dind  fancy y  are  the  mea- 
 fures  of  our  Ipending  our  eftate,  then  hu- 
 mour, pride  and  fancy,  will  have  the  diredi- 
 on  of  the  greateft  part  of  our  life. 
 
 Secondly y  Another  great  reafon  for  devoting 
 all  our  eftate  to  right  ufes,  is  this,  becaufe  it 
 is  capable  of  being  ufed  to  the  moft  excellent 
 purpofes,  and  is  fo  great  a  means  of  doing 
 good.  If  we  wafte  it,  we  don't  wafte  a  trifle^ 
 that  fignifies  little,  but  we  wafte  that  which 
 might  be  made  as  eyes  to  the  bllndy  as  a  hut- 
 band  to  the  w'ldoWy  as  a  father  to  the  orphan : 
 We  wafte  that ,  which  not  only  enables  us  to 
 minifter  worldly  comforts  to  thofe  that  are  in 
 diftrefs,  but  that  which  might  purchafe  for  our 
 felves  everlafting  treafures  in  heaven.  So  that  if 
 we  part  with  our  money  in  foolilh  ways,  we  part 
 with  a  great  power  of  comforting  our  fellow 
 creatures,  and  of  making  our  felves  for  ever 
 bleffed. 
 
 If  there  be  nothing  fo  glorious  as  doing 
 good ,  if  there  is  nothing  that  makes  us  fo 
 like  to  God,  then  nothing  can  be  fo  glorious 
 in  the  ufe  of  our  money,  as  to  ufe  it  all  in 
 works  of  love  and  gooduefs,   making  our 
 
 felves 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        8 1 
 
 felves  friends^  d.ndfithersj  and  benefaBors^  to 
 all  our  fdlow-crcaturcs,  imitating  the  divine 
 love,  and  turning  all  our  power  into  afts  of 
 generofity,  care  and  kindnels,  to  fuch  as  are 
 in  need  of  it. 
 
 If  a  man  had  eyes ,  and  hati^s ,  and  feet^ 
 that  he  could  give  to  thofe  that  wanted  them ; 
 if  he  fhould  either  lock  them  up  in  a  chejl^ 
 or  pleafe  himfelf  with  Ibme  nee  die fs  or  ridicu^ 
 Ions  uie  of  them,  inftead  of  giving  them  to 
 his  brethren  that  were  blind  and  lame^  fhould 
 we  not  juftly  reckon  him  an  inhuman  wretch? 
 If  he  ftiould  rather  chufe  to  amufe  himfelf 
 with  fiirmjJnng  his  houle  with  thofe  things, 
 than  to  entitle  himfelf  to  an  eternal  reward, 
 by  giving  them  to  thofe  that  wanted  eyes  and 
 hands ,  might  we  not  jultly  reckon  him 
 mad? 
 
 Now  7noncy  has  very  much  the  nature  of 
 eyes  and  feet'^  if  w^e  either  lock  it  up  in  cheftsy 
 or  wafte  it  in  needlefs  and  ridiculous  expences 
 upon  our  felves,  whilft  the  poor  and  the  di- 
 ftreffed  want  it  for  their  necejfary  ufes,  if 
 we  con  fume  it  in  the  ridiculous  ornainents 
 of  apparel,  whilft  others  are  ftarving  in  na^ 
 heduefs^  wc  are  not  far  from  the  cruelty  of 
 him  that  chufes  rather  to  adorn  his  houfc 
 with  the  hands  and  eyes^  than  to  give  them  to 
 thofe  that  want  them.  If  we  chufe  to  in- 
 dulge our  felves  in  fuch  expenfive  enjoyments, 
 as  have  no  r^^/  ufc  in  them,  fuch  as  fatisfy 
 no  real  want^  rather  than  to  entitle  our  felves 
 to  an  eternal  reward,   by  dilpofing   of  our 
 
 G  money 
 
8x  A  Serious   Call 
 
 money  well,  we  are  guilty  of  his  madnefs, 
 that  rather  chufes  to  lock  up  ejes  and  hands y 
 than  to  make  himfelf  for  ever  blcffed,  by 
 giving  them  to  thofe  that  want  them. 
 
 For  after  we  have  fatisfy'd  our  own  Jbber 
 and  reajbnable  wants,  all  the  reft  of  our  mo- 
 ney is  but  likey^^r^  eyes^  or  hands^  it  is  fome- 
 thing  that  we  cannot  keep  to  our  felves, 
 without  being  fooltflj  in  the  ufe  of  it,  Ibme- 
 thing  that  can  only  be  us'd  well,  by  giving  it 
 to  thole  that  w^ant  it. 
 
 Thirdly^  If  we  wafte  our  money,  we  are 
 not  only  guilty  of  wafting  a  talent  which  God 
 has  given  us,  we  are  not  only  guilty  of  ma- 
 king that  ufclefs,.  which  is  fo  powerful  a 
 means  of  doing  good,  but  we  do  our  felves 
 this  farther  harm,  that  we  turn  this  ufeful 
 talent  into  a  fowerftd  means  of  corrupting  our 
 felves ;  becauie  fo  far  as  it  is  fpent  wrongs  lb 
 far  it  is  fpent  in  the  lupport  of  fome  wrong 
 temper^  in  gratifying  fome  vain  and  unrea- 
 fonable  defires,  in  conforming  to  thofe  falhions, 
 and  pride  of  the  world,  which  as  chriftians 
 and  reafonable  men,  we  are  obliged  to  re- 
 nounce. 
 
 As  Wit  and  fine  parts  cannot  be  trifled  away, 
 and  only  loft,  but  will  expofe  thofe  that  have 
 them  into  greater  follies,  if  they  are  not  ftrift- 
 ly  devoted  to  piety ;  fo  money ^  if  it  is  not  us'd 
 ftridly  according  to  reafon  and  religion,  can- 
 not only  be  trifled  away,  but  it  will  betray 
 people  into  greater  follies ,  and  make  them 
 live  a  more  filly  and  extravagant  life,  than 
 
 they 
 
to  a  De^ont  and  Holy  Life.  83 
 
 they  could  have  done  without  it.  If,  there- 
 fore, you  don't  fpend  your  money  in  doing 
 good  to  others,  you  muft  fpend  it  to  the  hurt 
 of  your  felf.  You  will  ad,  like  a  man,  that 
 fhould  refuie  to  give  that  as  a  cordial  to  a  fick 
 friiend,  though  he  could  not  drink  it  himfelf 
 without  hijliiraing  his  blood.  For  this  is  the 
 cafe  of  fuferjiiiOHs  money;  if  you  give  it  to 
 thofe  that  want  it,  it  is  a  cordial:^  if  you 
 fpend  it  upon  your  felf  in  Ibmething  that  you 
 do  not  want,  it  only  inflames  and  difordcrs 
 your  mind,  and  makes  you  worle  than  you 
 w^ould  be  without  it. 
 
 Confider  again  the  foremention'd  compa- 
 rlfon;  if  the  man  that  would  not  make  a 
 right  ufe  of  fpare  eyes  and  hands^  fliould  by 
 continually  trying  to  ufe  them  himlelf,  fpoil 
 his  own  eyes  and  hands,  we  might  juftly  ac- 
 cufe  him  of  ftill  greater  madnefs. 
 
 Now  this  is  truly  the  cafe  of  riches  fpent 
 upon  our  fclves  in  vam  and  needlefs  expences  ; 
 in  trying  to  ufe  them  where  they  have  no 
 real  ufe^  nor  we  any  real  want^  we  only  ufe 
 them  to  our  great  hurt,  in  creating  unrea- 
 fonable  defires,  in  nourifliing  ill  tempers,  in 
 indulging  our  pafiions,  andfupporting  a  world- 
 ly, vain  turn  of  mind.  For  high  eating  and 
 drinking^  fine  deaths^  and  line  hoafes^  Jiate  and 
 equipage^  gay  pkajiires  and  divcrfons^  do  all 
 of  them  naturally  hurt  and  dilbrder  our  hearts  ; 
 they  are  the  food  and  nourifliments  of  all  the 
 folly  and  weakneis  of  our  nature,  and  are  cer- 
 tain means  to  make  us  vain  and  w^orldly  in 
 
 G  2  our 
 
84 
 
 A  Sermn  Call 
 
 our  tempers.  They  are  all  of  them  the  fup- 
 port  of  Ibmething  that  ought  not  to  be  lup- 
 ported;  they  are  contrary  to  that  fobriety  and 
 piety  of  heart,  which  relilhes  divine  things; 
 they  are  like  ib  many  weights  upon  our 
 jninds,  that  make  us  lefs  able,  and  lefs  in- 
 clined to  raife  up  our  thoughts  and  affcftions 
 to  the  things  that  are  above. 
 
 So  that  money  thus  fpent,  is  not  merely 
 wafted  or  lofl^  but  it  is  fpent  to  bad  purpoles, 
 and  miferable  effeds,  to  the  corruption  and 
 dilbrder  of  our  hearts,  and  to  the  making  us 
 lefs  able  to  live  up  to  the  fublime  doctrines 
 of  the  Gofpel.  It  is  but  like  keeping  mo- 
 ney from  the  poor,  to  buy  poifon  for  our 
 felves. 
 
 For  fo  much  as  is  fpent  in  the  vanity  of 
 drefs^  may  be  reckoned  lb  much  laid  out  to 
 Jlx  A^anity  in  our  minds.  So  much  as  is  laid 
 out  for  tdlenefs  and  indulgence^  may  be  reck- 
 oned fo  much  given  to  render  our  hearts  dull 
 '^xvAJhifaaJ.  So  much  as  is  fpent  in  flate  and 
 equipage^  may  be  reckoned  fo  miuch  Ipent  to 
 dazzle  your  own  eyes,  and  render  you  the  idol 
 of  your  own  imagination.  And  lo  in  every 
 thing,  w^hen  you  go  from  reajonahle  w^ants, 
 you  only  fupport  Ibme  unreafonable  temper^ 
 Ibme  turn  of  mind,  which  every  good  chrifti- 
 an  is  called  upon  to  renounce. 
 
 So  that  on  all  accounts,  whether  we  confi- 
 der  our  fortune  as  a  talent  and  truft  from  God, 
 or  the  great  good  that  it  enables  us  to  do,  or 
 th^  great  harm  that  it  does  to  our  felves,  if 
 
 idly 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  §5 
 
 idly  fpent ;  on  all  thcfc  great  accounts  it  ap-^ 
 pears,  that  it  is  ablblutely  neccfTary  to  make 
 realbn  and  religion  the  ftrid  rule  of  ufing  all 
 our  fortune. 
 
 Every  exhortation   in   Scripture  to  be  wife 
 and  realbnable,  fatisfying  only  fuch  wants  as 
 God  would  have  fatisfy'd  ;  every  exhortation 
 to  be  fpiritual  and  heavenly,  prefiing  after  a 
 glorious  change  of  our  nature^  every  exhor- 
 tation to  love  our  neighbour  as  our  lelves,  to 
 love  all  mankind  as  God  has  loved  them,  is  a 
 command  to  be  ftrlBly  religious  in  the  ufe  of 
 our  money.     For  none  of  thefe  tempers  can 
 be  comply 'd  with,  unlefs  we  be  wife  and  rea- 
 Ibnable,    I'piritual  and  heavenly,  exercifing  a 
 brotherly  love,  a  godlike  charity  in  the  ufe  of 
 all  our  fortune.     Thefe  tempers,  and  this  ufe 
 of  our  worldly  goods,  is  lb  much  the  doctrine 
 of  all  the  nev/  Teftament,  that  you  can't  read 
 a  chapter,  without  being  taught  fomething  of 
 it.     I  Ilia  11  only  produce  one  remarkable  pal- 
 fage  of  fcripture,  which  is  fufficient  to  juftify 
 all  that  I  liave  faid  concerning  this  religious 
 ufe  of  all  our  fortune. 
 
 JVhen  the  Son  of  man  JJjall  come  in  his  glory y 
 
 and  all  the  holy  Angels  with  him^  then  Jhall  he 
 
 fit  upon  the  throne  of  his  glory.     And  before 
 
 him  foall  he  gathered  all  nations  ^  and  he  jhall 
 
 fefarate  them  one  jrom    another^  as  a  floepherd 
 
 divideth  the  peep  from  the  goats  ;  and  he  Jhall 
 
 fet  the  f jeep  on  his  right  hand^  hut  the  goats  on 
 
 the  left.     Then  foall  the  King  fay  unto  them  oil 
 
 his  right  handy  come  ye  hleffedof  my  Father^  in^ 
 
 G  5  herit 
 
86  A  SertoHS  Call 
 
 fjerit  the  ktiigdom  prepared  for  you  from  the 
 foundation  of  the  world.  For  I  was  an  hungred^ 
 and  ye  gave  me  meat ;  I  was  thtrfiy^  and  ye  gave 
 mc  drink  :  I  was  a  flranger  and  ye  took  me  in ; 
 iiaked^  and  ye  cloathed  me :  I  was  fick^  and  ye 
 vifited  me'^  I  was  in  prifonj  and  ye  came  unto  me. 
 
 . ^'Then  fhall  he  Jay  tint  a  them  on  the  left 
 
 handj  depart  from  me^  ye  curfed^  into  everlafi-- 
 in^f'  fire^  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels ; 
 for  I  was  an  hungred^  and  ye  gave  me  no  ?neat  ^ 
 I  was  thirfiy^  and  ye  gave  me  no  drink :  I  was  a 
 (Ir anger  and  ye  took  me  not  in ;  nakedy  and  yc 
 cloathed  me  not '^  Jick^  and  in  prifon^  and  ye  w- 
 Hted  me  not.  Thefe  Jljall  go  away  into  everlafl- 
 ing  punifhment  y  but  the  righteous  into  life  e^ 
 ternaL 
 
 I  have  quoted  this  paffage  at  length,  be- 
 caufe,  if  one  looks  at  the  way  of  the  world, 
 one  would  hardly  think,  that  chriftians  had 
 ever  read  this  part  of  Scripture.  For  what 
 is  there  in  the  lives  of  chriftians,  that  looks 
 as  if  their  falvation  depended  upon  thefe  good 
 works?  And  yet  the  neceffity  of  them  is 
 here  affcrted  in  the  higheft  manner,  and  prel- 
 ledupon  us  by  a  lively  deicription  of  the  glo- 
 ry and  terrors  of  the  day  of  judgment. 
 
 Some  people,  even  of  thofe  who  may  be 
 reckoned  virtuous  chriftians,  look  upon  this 
 text  only  as  a  general  recommendation  of  oc-- 
 cafonal  v/orks  of  charity;  w^hereas  it  fliews 
 the  neceftity  not  only  of  occafional  charities 
 now  and  then,  but  the  neceffity  of  liich  an 
 tntire  charitable  Ufcy  as  is  a  continual  exercife 
 
 of 
 
to  a  Devout  ajtdUoly  Life.  87 
 
 of  all  fuch  works  of  chanty  as  we  are  able  to 
 perform. 
 
 You  own,  that  you  have  no  title  to  falva- 
 tion,  if  you  have  ncgleftcd  thefe  good  worksj 
 becaufe  fuch  perfons  as  have  neglefted  them, 
 are  at  the  lafl  day  to  be  placed  on  the  left 
 hand,  and  banifh'd   with  a  depart  ye   ciirfed. 
 There  is,  therefore,  no  liilvation  but  in  the 
 performance  of  thefe  good  works.     Who  is  it, 
 therefore,  that  may  be  laid  to  have  performed 
 thefe  good  works  ?  Is  it  he  that  has  fometlme  • 
 afTiiled   a  prijoner  y    or  relieved  the  poor  or 
 fick  ?  This  would  be  as  abfurd,  as  to  fay,  that 
 he  had  performed  the  duties  of  devotion y  who 
 hidi  fometlme  faid  his  prayers.     Is  it  therefore, 
 he  that  has  feveral  times  done  thefe  works  of 
 charity?  This  can  no  more  be  faid,  than  he 
 can  be  faid  to  be  the  UvXj  juf  man,  who  had 
 done  ads  of  'yjAicc  feveral  times.     What  is  the 
 rule     therefore ,    or    mealure   of  performing 
 thefe  good  works  ?  How  fhall  a  man  truft  that 
 he  performs  them  as  he  ought  ? 
 
 Now  the  rule  is  very  plain  and  eafy^    and 
 fuch  as  is  common  to  every  other  virtue  ^    or 
 
 good  temper^  as  well  as  to  charity.  -Who 
 
 is  the  humble^  or  meek,  or  devout,  or  juft, 
 or  fiithful  man  ?  Is  it  he  that  h.2iS  feveral  times 
 done  ads  of  humility,  mceknels,  devotion, 
 juftice,  or  fidelity  ?  No.  But  it  is  he  that  lives 
 in  the  habitual  exerclfe  of  thefe  virtues.  In  like 
 manner,  he  only  can  be  faid  to  have  performed 
 thefe  works  of  charity,  who  lives  in  the  habl" 
 tual  exerclfe  of  them  to  the  utmoll  of  his  power. 
 
 G  4  He 
 
88  A  Serious  Call 
 
 He  only  has  performed  the  duty  of  divine 
 love,  who  loves  God  with  all  his  hearty  and 
 with  all  his  ramd^  and  w'lth  all  h'ls  flrength. 
 And  he  only  has  performed  the  duty  of  thele 
 good  works,  who  has  done  them  with  all  his 
 heart,  and  with  all  his  mind,  and  with  all  his 
 Ttrength.  For  there  is  no  other  meafure  of 
 our  doing  good,  than  our  'power  of  doing 
 it. 
 
 The  Apoftle  St.  ^eter  puts  this  queftion  to 
 our  bleffed  Saviour,    hord^    hozv  oft  (hall  my 
 brother  Jin  again  ft  me^  and  I  forgive  hira^  'till 
 feven  times  P    Jf^^s  faith  unto  him^  ^  fij  ^^^^ 
 unto  thee^    until  feven   times ;  hut 
 iaat.xvm.22.     until  feventy  times  feven.     Not  as 
 if  after  this  number  of  offences,  a  man  might 
 then  ccafe  to  forgive  j  but  the  expreffion  of 
 feventy  times  feven,  is  to  fhew  us,  that  we  are 
 not  to  bound  our  forgivenefs  by  any  nutnher 
 of  offences,  but  are  to  continue  forgiving  the 
 moft  repeated  offences  againft  us.     Thus  our 
 Saviour  faith  in  another  place,  Tf  he  trefpals 
 agalnjl  thee  feven  times  In  a  day^  and  feven 
 times  in  a  day  turn  again  to  thee^ 
 Luke  xvii.  4.      faying^  I  repent^  thou  Ihalt  forgive 
 him.     If,   therefore,  a  man  ceafes  to  forgive 
 his  brother,  becaufe  he  has  forgiven  him  often 
 already;  if  he  excufes  himfelf  from  forgiving 
 this   man,    becaule   he   has  forgiven  fever al 
 others  \  Inch  a  one  breaks  this  law  of  Chrift, 
 concerning  the  forgiving  ones  brother. 
 
 Now 
 
to  a  Dezfout  and  Holy  Life.        8p 
 
 Now  the  ml  e  of  forgiving^  is  alfo  the  rule 
 of  gro'ing ;  you  arc  not  to  glve^  or  do  good  to 
 feven^  but  to  f event y  times  feven.     You  are  not 
 to  ceafe  from  giving,  becaule  you  have  given 
 often  to  the  fame  perlbn,  or  to  other  peribns; 
 but  muft  look  upon  your  felf  as  much  obliged 
 to  continue  relieving  thole  that  continue  in 
 wants,    as  you  was  obliged  to  relieve  them 
 once,    or  twice.      Had  it  not   been   in   your 
 power,  you  had  been  excufed  from  relieving 
 any  perlbn  once  \  but  if  it  is  in  your  power  to 
 relieve  people  often^  it  is  as  much  your  duty 
 to  do  it  often,  as  it  is  the  duty  of  others  to  do 
 it  but  feldom,  becaule  they  are  but  feldom 
 able.     He  that  is  not  ready  to  forgive  every 
 brother,  as  often  as  he  wants  to  be  forgiven, 
 does  not  forgive  like  a  difciple  of  Chrift.  And 
 he  that  is    not  ready  to    give    to   every  bro- 
 ther,   that    wants  to  have    fome  thing   given 
 him,  does  not  give  like  a  Difciple  of  Chrifb. 
 For  it  is  as  neceffary  to  give  to  feventy  times 
 feven,  to  live  in  the  continual  exercife  of  ail 
 good  works  to  the  utmofi:  of  our  power,  as  it 
 is  neceflliry  to  forgive  until  feventy  times  fe- 
 ven, and  live  in  the  habitual  exerciie  of  this 
 forgiving  temper  towards  all  that  want  it. 
 
 And  the  reafon  of  all  this  is  very  plain, 
 becaufe  there  is  the  fame  goodnefs,  the  fame 
 excellency  ,  and  the  fame  necejjity  of  being 
 thus  charitable  at  one  time,  as  at  another. 
 It  is  as  much  the  beft  ufe  of  our  money,  -to 
 be  ^/z£;^?/j  doing  good  with  it,  as  it  is  the  beft  ufe 
 of  it  at  any  particular  timc^  lb  that  that  which 
 
 4  is 
 
po  A  Serious  Call 
 
 is  a  reafon  for  a  charitable  aB'wn^  is  as  good  a 
 realbn  for  a  charitable  life.  That  which  is  a 
 reafon  for  forgiving  one  offence,  is  the  fame  rea- 
 fon for  forgiving  all  offences.  For  fuch  cha- 
 rity has  nothing  to  recommend  it  to  day,  but 
 what  will  be  the  lame  recommendation  of  it 
 to  morrow ;  and  you  cannot  neglect  it  at  one 
 time,  without  being  guilty  of  the  fame  fin, 
 as  if  you  negleded  it  at  another  time. 
 
 As  lure,  therefore,  as  thefe  w^orks  of  cha- 
 rity are  neceffary  to  ialvation,  ib  lure  is  it, 
 that  we  are  to  do  them  to  the  utmoft  of  our 
 power ;  not  to  day ,  or  to  morrow ,  but 
 through  the  whole  coiirfe  of  our  life.  If 
 therefore,  it  be  our  duty  at  any  time  to  deny 
 our  felves  any  needlejs  expences,  to  be  moderate 
 znd  frugal^  that  we  may  have  to  give  to  thofe 
 that  want,  it  is  as  much  our  duty  to  do  io  at 
 all  times,  that  wx  may  be  firther  able  to  do 
 more  good :  For  if  it  is  at  any  time  a  fin  to 
 prefer  needlejs  vain  expence  to  works  of  cha- 
 rity, it  is  fo  at  all  times:  Becaufe  charity  as 
 much  excels  all  needlefs  and  vain  expences  at 
 one  time,  as  at  another.  So  that  if  it  is  ever 
 neceffary  to  our  falvation ,  to  take  care  of 
 thefe  works  of  charity,  and  to  fee  that  we 
 make  our  felves  in  fome  degree  capable  of  do- 
 ing them  ;  it  is  as  neceffary  to  our  falvation, 
 to  take  care  to  make  our  felves  as  capable  as 
 we  can  be,  of  performing  them  in  all  the  parts 
 of  our  life. 
 
 Either  therefore  you  mull  fb  far  renounce 
 your  Chriflianity,  as  to  fay,  that  you  need 
 
 never 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  p  I 
 
 never  perform  any  of  thefe  good  works ;  or 
 you  mull  own,  that  you  are  to  perform  them 
 all  your  life  in  as  high  a  degree  as  you  are  able. 
 There  is  no  middle  way  to  be  taken,  any  more 
 tfian  there  is  a  middle  way  betwixt  pride  and 
 humility,  or  temperance  and  intemperance.  If 
 you  do  not  ftrive  to  fulfil  all  charitable  works, 
 if  you  ncgleft  any  of  them  that  arc  in  your 
 power,  and  deny  alTiftance  to  thole  that  want 
 what  you  can  give,  let  it  be  when  it  will,  or 
 where  it  will,  you  number  your  felf  amcngft 
 thofc  that  want  Chriftian  charity.  Becaule  it 
 is  as  much  your  duty  to  do  good  with  all  that 
 you  have,  and  to  live  in  the  continual  exercife 
 of  good  works,  as  it  is  your  duty  to  be  tem- 
 perate in  all  that  you  eat  and  drink. 
 
 Hence  alio  appears  the  ncceffity  of  renoun- 
 cing all  tho^Q JGol'iJh  and  imreajbnahle  expences, 
 which  the  pride  and  folly  of  mankind  has  made 
 fo  common  and  faihionable  in  the  world.  For 
 if  it  is  neceffary  to  do  good  works  as  fir  as  you 
 are  able,  it  muft  be  as  neceffary  to  renounce 
 thole  needlefs  waysof  fpending  money,  which 
 render  you  unable  to  do  works  of  Charity. 
 
 You  muft  therefore  no  more  conform  to 
 thefe  ways  of  the  world;  than  you  muft  conform 
 to  the  vices  of  the  world,  you  muft  no  more 
 Ipend  with  thofc  that  idly  wafte  their  money 
 as  their  own  humour  leads  them,  than  you 
 muft  drink  with  the  drunken,  or  indulge  your 
 felf  with  the  Epicure'^  becaule  a  courfe  of 
 fuch  expences  is  no  more  confiftent  with  a  life 
 of  chanty y  than  excels  in  drinking  is  confiftent 
 
 with 
 
p2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 with  a  l}Je  of  fobriety.  When  therefore  any- 
 one tells  you  of  the  lawfahiels  of  expenfive 
 apparel,  or  the  innocency  of  pleafing  your  felf 
 with  coitly  fatisfadions,  only  imagine  that 
 the  fame  perfon  was  to  tell  you,  that  you  need 
 not  do  works  of  charity,  that  Chrift  does  not 
 require  you  to  do  good  unto  your  poor  bre- 
 thren, as  unto  him,  and  then  you  will  lee  the 
 wickednefs  of  fuch  advice ;  for  to  tell  you,  that 
 you  may  live  in  fuch  expences,  as  make  itim- 
 pofiible  for  you  to  live  in  the  exercife  of  good 
 works,  is  the  fame  thing  as  telling  you  that 
 you  need  not  have  any  care  about  llich  good 
 works  themielvcs. 
 
 CHAR     VII. 
 
 How  the  Imprudent  ttfe  of  an  eftatc  corrupts  all 
 the  tempers  of  the  ?nmdy  and  fills  the  heart 
 with  poor  and  ridiculous  pajfions  through  the 
 whole  courfe  of  life ;  reprefented  in  the  cha^ 
 rathr  of  Flavia. 
 
 IT  has  already  been  obferv'd,  that  a  prudent  I 
 
 and   religious   care  is  to  be  us'd,  in   the  | 
 
 manner  of  fpending  our  money  or  ejlate^  be-  |j 
 
 caule  the  manner  oflpending  oureftate  makes  " 
 
 fo  great  a  part  of  our  common  life,  and  is  fo  \ 
 much  the  bufinefs  of  every  day,  that  accor- 
 ding as  we  are  wife,  or  imprudent,  in  this  re- 
 
 fpea,  I 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.         93 
 
 pcd,  the  whole  courfe  of  our  lives,  will  be 
 rendered  either  very  wile,  or  very  full  of  folly. 
 Perlbns  that  are  well  affeBed  to  Religion, 
 that  receive  inftruclions  of  piety  with  ^/^^///V/-^ 
 2LndJatisfati}on^  often  wonder  how  it  comes  to 
 pafs,  that  they  make  no  o^YCiitcv  frogre/s  in  that 
 Religion  which  they  lb  much  cidm'ire. 
 
 Now  the  rcalon  of  it  is  this  ;  it  is  becaufe 
 Religion  lives  only  in  their  head^hnt  Ibmething 
 elle  has  pofleffion  of  their  hearts-^  and  there- 
 fore they  continue  from  year  to  year  mere  ad- 
 7nirersy  and  praifers  of  piety,  without  ever 
 coming  up  to  the  reality  and  perfedion  of  its 
 precepts. 
 
 If  it  be  ask'd,  why  Religion  does  not  get 
 pofleffion  of  their  hearts,  the  reafon  is  this. 
 It  is  not  becaufe  they  live  mgrojs  Jins^  or  de^ 
 baacheries^  for  their  regard  to  Religion  pre- 
 lerves  them  from  luch  diforders. 
 
 But  it  is  becaule  their  hearts  are  conftantly 
 employ' d^  perverted^  and  kept  in  a  wrong  ft  ate, 
 by  the  indifcreet  ufe  of  Itich  things  as  are  law^ 
 ful  to  be  us'd. 
 
 The  ufe  and  enjoyment  of  their  efiates  is 
 lawful.,  and  therefore  it  never  comes  into  their 
 heads  to  imagine  any  great  danger  from  that 
 quarter.  They  never  reflect,  that  there  is  a 
 vain.,  and  hriprudent  ufe  of  their  eftates,  which 
 though  it  does  not  deftroy  \\k.Q  grofs  Jins.,  yet 
 fo  diforders  the  heart,  and  iiipports  it  in  fuch 
 fenJiiaUty  and  dalnefs^  fuch  pride  and  vajiity^ 
 as  makes  it  incapable  of  receiving  the  life  and 
 fplrlt  of  Piety, 
 
 For 
 
p^  A  Serious  Call 
 
 For  our  fouls  may  receive  an  infinite  hurt, 
 and  be  rendered  incapable  of  all  virtue,  mere- 
 ly by  the  ufe  of  imiocent  and  lawful  things. 
 
 What  is  more  innocent  than  reji  and  retire- 
 ment? And  yet  what  more  dangerous,  than 
 floth  and  idlenefs  ?  What  is  more  lawful  th^an 
 eating  and  drinking  ?  And  yet  what  more  de- 
 ftrudive  of  all  virtue,  what  more  fruitful  of 
 all  vice,  th'AnJenJuaUty  and  Indulgence  P 
 
 How  lawful  and  pralfc-worthy  is  the  care  of 
 a  family?  And  yet  how  certainly  are  many 
 people  rendered  incapable  of  all  virtue,  by  a 
 worldly  and  folicitous  temper? 
 
 Now  it  is  for  want  of  religious  exaftnefs  in 
 the  ufe  of  thefe  Innocent  and  lawful  things^ 
 that  Religion  cannot  get  poifeffion  of  our 
 hearts.  And  it  is  in  the  right  and  prudent 
 management  of  our  felves,  as  to  thefe  things, 
 that  all  the  art  of  holy  living  chiefly  confifts. 
 
 Grcfs  fins  are  plainly  feen,  and  eafily  avoi- 
 ded by  perfons  that  profefs  Religion.  But  the 
 indlfcreet  and  dangerous  ufe  of  innocent  and 
 lawful  things,  as  it  does  not  fiock  and  offend 
 our  confciences,  fo  it  is  difficult  to  make  peo- 
 ple at  all  lenfibie  of  the  danger  of  it. 
 
 A  Gentleman  that  expends  ail  his  eftate  in 
 fports^  and  a  woman  that  lays  out  all  her  for- 
 tune upon  her  lelf,  can  hardly  be  perfwaded, 
 that  the  fpirit  of  Religion  cannot  fubfilt  in 
 fuch  a  way  of  life. 
 
 Thefe  peifons,  as  has  been  obferv'd,  may 
 live  free  from  debaucheries,  they  may  be 
 friends  of  Religion,   fo  far  as  to  pralfe  and 
 
 fpeak 
 
to  a  T)evout  and  Holy  Life.  9  5 
 
 Jpeak  well  of  it,  and  admire  it  in  their  imagi- 
 nations; but  it  cannot  govern  their  hearts,  and 
 be  the  Ipirit  of  their  adions,  till  they  change 
 their  way  of  life,  and  let  Religion  give  laws 
 to  the  ufe  and  fpending  of  their  eftates. 
 
 For  a  JVoman  that  loves  drefsy  that  thinks 
 no  expence  too  great  to  beftow  upon  the  ador-- 
 ning  of  her  perfon,  cannot  flop  there.  For 
 that  temper  draws  a  thoufand  other  follies  a- 
 long  w^ith  it,  and  will  render  the  whole  courie 
 of  her  life,  her  bujinejs^  her  converfation^  her 
 hopes  J  her  fears^  her  tafie^  her  fleafures^  and 
 diverfonsy  all  fuitable  to  it. 
 
 Fhivla  and  Mirajida  are  two  maiden  lifters, 
 that  have  each  of  them  two  hundred  pounds  a 
 year.  They  buried  their  parents  twenty  years 
 ago,  and  have  fince  that  time  fpent  their 
 eftate  as  they  pleafed. 
 
 Flavla  has  been  the  wonder  of  all  her  friends, 
 for  her  excellent  management,  in  making  lb 
 furprizing  a  figure  in  lb  moderate  a  fortune. 
 Several  Ladles  that  have  twice  her  fortune,  are 
 not  able  to  be  always  lb  genteel^  and  lb  con- 
 jlant  at  all  places  of  pkajiire  and  expence.  She 
 has  every  thing  that  is  in  th^fa/h/on^  and  is  in 
 every  place  where  there  is  any  diver  (ion.  Fla- 
 vla is  very  orthodox^  ihe  talks  warmly  againft 
 heretlcks  ^Si^fchlfmatlcks^  is  generally  at  Churchy 
 and  often  at  the  facrament.  She  once  com- 
 mended Tifermon  that  was  againft  the /t;^/^  and 
 vanity  of  drefs,  and  thought  it  was  very  jufi 
 againft  Luclnda^  whom  fhe  takes  to  be  a  great 
 deal  finer  than  Ihe  need  to  be.     If  any  one 
 
 asks 
 
96 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 asks  Flav'ta  to  do  Ibmcthing  in  charity,  if  flic 
 likes  the  perfon  who  makes  the  propoM,  or 
 happens  to  be  in  a  right  temper^  flie  will  tofs 
 him  half-ik  crown  or  a  crown^  and  tell  him,  if 
 he  knew  what  a  long  Milliner's  hill  flie  had  juft 
 received,  he  would  think  it  a  great  deal  for  her 
 to  give.  A  quarter  of  a  year  after  this,  flic 
 hears  z,fermon  upon  the  necejftty  of  charity ;  flie 
 thinks  the  man  preaches  well,  that  it  is  a  very 
 f  roper  fubjed,  that  people  want  much  to  be 
 put  in  mind  of  it ;  but  flie  applies  nothing  to 
 herfelf,  becaufe  flie  remembers  that  file  gave  a 
 crown  Ibme  time  ago,  when  flie  could  fo  ill 
 Ipare  it. 
 
 As  for  poor  people  themfelves,  flie  will  ad- 
 mit of  no  complaints  from  them  \  flie  is  very 
 pofitive  they  are  all  cheats  and  lyars^  and  will 
 lay  any  thing  to  get  relief,  and  therefore  it 
 mufl:  be  a  fin  to  encourage  them  in  their  evil 
 ways. 
 
 You  would  think  Ylavia  had  the  tcndereft 
 |:onfcience  in  the  world,  if  you  was  to  fee, 
 how  Jcriiptilous  and  appreheniive  flie  is  of  the 
 guilt  and  danger  of  giving  amifs. 
 
 She  buys  all  books  of  wit  and  humour^  and 
 has  made  an  expenfive  coUedion  of  all  our 
 ^nglijfj  'Poets.  For  flie  fays,  one  cannot  have 
 a  true  tajle  of  any  of  them,  without  being 
 very  converfant  with  them  all. 
 
 She  will  fometimes  read  a  hooh  of  ^iety^  if 
 it  is  a  fliort  one,  if  it  is  much  commended  for 
 ftile  and  latiguage^  and  flie  can  tell  where  to 
 borrow  it. 
 
 ^lavm 
 
to  a  Dez^otit  and  Holy  Life.       97 
 
 Flavia  is  very  idlcy  and  yet  very  fond  oijine 
 work:  this  makes  her  often y?/"  working  in  bed 
 until  noon^  and  be  told  many  a  long  jiory  be- 
 fore ftie  is  up ;  fo  that  I  need  not  tell  you,  that 
 her  morning  devotions  are  not  always  rightly 
 performed. 
 
 Flav'ia  would  be  a  miracle  of  Piety,  if  flie 
 was  but  half  lb  careful  of  her  foul,  as  flie  is 
 of  her  body.  The  rifing  of  a  pimple  in  her 
 face,  the  fting  of  a  gnat^  will  make  her  keep 
 her  room  two  or  three  days,  and  Ihe  thinks 
 they  are  very  rajh  people,  that  don't  take  care 
 of  things  in  time.  This  makes  her  lb  over- 
 careful  of  her  healthy  that  fiie  never  thinks  flie 
 is  wxll  enough ;  and  Ho  over  indulgent ^  that  flie 
 never  can  be  really  well.  So  that  it  cofl:s  her 
 a  great  deal  in  yfc^i/^^-draughts  and  wakings 
 draughts,  in  Jpirlts  for  the  head,  in  drops  for 
 the  nerves,  in  cordials  for  the  ftomach,  and  in. 
 Jaffron  for  her  tea. 
 
 If  .you  vifit  Flavia  on  the  Sunday^  you  will 
 always  meet  good  company^  you  will  know 
 w^hat  is  doing  in  the  world,  you  will  hear  the 
 laft  lampoon^  be  told  w^ho  wrote  it,  and  who  is 
 meant  by  every  name  that  is  in  it.  You  will 
 hear  what  plays  were  aded  that  week,  which 
 is  the  fineft  long  in  the  opera^  who  was  intole- 
 rable at  the  laft  aff^mbly,  and  what  games  are 
 moft  in  faftiion.  Flavia  thinks  they  are  Atheijis 
 that  play  at  cards  on  the  Sunday^  but  flie  will 
 tell  you  the  nisety  of  all  the  games,  what  cards 
 flie  lield,  how  flie  play'd  them,  and  the  hijlory 
 of  »11  that  happened  at  play^   as  foon  as  flie 
 
 H  comes 
 
pS  A  Serious  Call 
 
 comes  from  Church.  If  you  would  know  who 
 is  rude  and  iU-natur'd^  who  is  z^'j/;;  zndjoppijhy 
 who  lives  too  ^i^^,  and  who  is  in  debt.  If  you 
 w^ould  know  what  is  the  quarrel  at  a  certain 
 houfe.^  or  who  and  who  are  in  love.  If  you 
 woukl  know  how  late  Belinda  comes  home  at 
 night,  what  cloaths  fbe  has  bought,  how  ihe 
 loves  compliments^  and  what  a  long  ftory  Ihc 
 told  at  iiich  a  place.  If  you  would  know 
 how  crofs  Luc'ius  is  to  his  wlfe^  what  ill-natur'd 
 things  he  fays  to  her,  when  no  body  hears  him  j 
 if  you  would  know  how  they  hate  one  ano- 
 ther in  their  hearts^  tho'  they  appear  fo  kind 
 in  publick ;  you  muft  vifit  Flavia  on  the  Sun-^ 
 day.  But  ftill  Ihe  has  lb  great  a  regard  for  the 
 holinefs  of  the  Sunday j  that  Ihe  has  turned  a 
 poor  old  widow  out  of  her  houfe,  as  a  pro-^ 
 fhane  wretch^  for  having  been  found  once 
 mending  her  cloaths  on  the  Sunday  night. 
 
 Thus  lives  Flavia  •  and.  if  Ihe  lives  ten  years 
 longer,  flie  wiJl  have  Ipent  about  fifteen  hun^ 
 dred  and  fixty  Sundays  after  this  manner.  She 
 will  have  wore  about  two  hundred  different 
 fuits  of  cloaths.  Out  of  this  thirty  years  of 
 her  life,  fifteen  of  them  will  have  been  difpo- 
 fed  of  in  bed\  and  of  the  remaining  fifteen, 
 ^owt  fourteen  of  them  will  have  been  confu- 
 med  in  eating,  drinking,  drefTmg,  rifiting, 
 converfation,  reading  and  hearing  Plays  and 
 Romances,  at  Opera's,  Affemblies,  Balls  and 
 Diverfions.  For  you  may  reckon  all  the  time 
 that  fhe  is  ^^,  thus  Ipent,  except  about  an 
 hour  and  half,  that  is  diijpofed  of  at  Church, 
 
 molt 
 
to  a  De^voHt  and  Holy  Life.        pp 
 
 moft  Sundays  in  the  year.  With  great  ma- 
 nagement, and  under  mighty  rules  of  oecono- 
 my,  ihe  will  have  fpent  Jixty  hundred  pounds 
 upon  herlelf,  bating  only  ibmeJh}I/ingSy  crozvnsy 
 or  half'-crozvnsy  that  have  gone  from  her  in  ac- 
 cidental charities. 
 
 I  Ihall  not  take  upon  me  to  fay,  that  it  is 
 impofiible  for  Flavia  to  be  faved;  but  thus 
 much  muft  be  faid,  that  fnc  has  no  grounds 
 from  Scripture  to  think  flie  is  in  the  way  of  fal- 
 vation.  For  her  whole  life  is  in  direft  oppo- 
 fition  to  all  thofe  tempers  and  pra^kes^  which 
 the  Gofpel  has  made  neceflary  to  falvation. 
 
 If  you  was  to  hear  her  fay,  that  fiie  had 
 lived  all  her  life  like  Jnna  the  Prophetefs,  who 
 departed  not  jrora  the  temple^  hut  ferved  God 
 ivlth  jafiings  and  prayers  night  and  day^  you 
 would  look  upon  her  as  very  extravagant  ^  and 
 yet  this  would  be  no  greater  an  extravagance, 
 than  ibr  her  to  fay,  that  fhe  had  been  ftriving 
 to  enter  in  at  the  fir  ait  gate^  or  making  any 
 one  doBrine  of  the  Gofpel,  a  rule  of  her  life. 
 
 She  may  as  well  fay,  that  ftie  lived  with 
 our  Saviour  when  he  was  upon  earth,  as  that 
 fhe  has  lived  in  imitation  of  him,  or  made  it 
 any  part  of  her  care  to  live  in  fuch  tempers,  as 
 he  required  of  all  thofe  that  would  be  his  diC- 
 ciples.  She  may  as  truly  fay,  that  Ihe  has 
 every  day  wajhed  the  faints  feet  ^  as  that  Ihe  has 
 lived  in  chriftian  humility  and  poverty  of  fpi-' 
 rit'^  and  as  reafonably  think,  that  Ihc  has 
 taiigiit  a  Charity-Jchooly  as  that  fee  has  lived  in 
 works  of  charity.    She  has  as  much  reafon  to 
 
 H  a  think^ 
 
1 00  A  Serious  Call 
 
 think,  that  fhe  has  been  a  centinel  in  an  army, 
 as  that  flie  has  lived  in  watch'mg^  ^ndfelf-de- 
 mal.  And  it  may  as  fairly  be  laid,  that  fhe 
 lived  by  the  labour  of  her  hands,  as  that  Ihe 
 had  given  all  diligence  to  make  her  calling  and 
 eleBionJhre. 
 
 And  here  it  is  to  be  well  obferved,  that 
 the  poor  J  vain  turn  of  mind,  the  irreligion^ 
 the  folfy  and  vanity  of  this  whole  life  of  F/^- 
 via^  is  all  owing  to  the  manner  of  ufing  her 
 eftate.  It  is  this  that  has  formed  hexjpirit^ 
 that  has  given  life  to  every  idle  temper^  that 
 has  fupported  every  trifling  pajjion^  and  kept 
 her  from  all  thoughts  of  a  prudent,  ufeful, 
 and  devout  life. 
 
 When  her  parents  dy'd,  fhe  had  no  thought 
 about  her  two  hundred  pounds  a  year,  but 
 that  fhe  had  lb  much  money  to  do  what  flie 
 would  with,  to  fpend  upon  herfelf,  and  pur- 
 chafe  the  pleafures  and  gratifications  of  all  her 
 paflions. 
 
 And  it  is  this  fetting  out,  this  falfe  judg- 
 ment, and  indifcreet  ufe  of  her  fortune,  that 
 has  filled  her  whole  life  with  the  fame  indil- 
 crction,  and  kept  her  from  thinking  of  what 
 is  right^  and  wife  and  pious  in  every  thing 
 elfe. 
 
 If  you  have  feen  her  delighted  in  plays  and 
 romances^  infcandal  and  backbit ingy  eafily^^/*- 
 ter'dy  and  loon  affronted.  If  you  have  feen 
 her  devoted  to  pleafures  and  diverfons^  a  flave 
 to  every  pajfton  in  its  turn,  nice  in  every  thing 
 that  concerned  her  body  or  drefsy  carelefs  of 
 
 every 
 
to  a  Devout  a?id  Holy  Life.       loi 
 
 every  thing  that  might  benefit  hery^///,  al- 
 ways wanting  ibme  new  entertainment,  and 
 ready  for  every  hjppy  invention  in  JIjcw  or 
 drejs^  it  was  becaule  Ihe  had  pnrchajed2i\\  thele 
 tempers  with  the  yearly  revenue  oi  her  for- 
 tune. 
 
 She  miglit  have  been  hamhle^fer'tous^  devout ^ 
 a  lover  of  good  books y  an  admirer  oi prayer  and 
 retirernent^  careful  of  her  t'lnic^  diligent  in  good 
 ivorksy  full  of  charity  and  the  love  of  God,  but 
 that  the  imprudent  ufe  of  her  eftate  forc'd  all 
 the  contrary  tempers  upon  her. 
 
 And  it  was  no  wonder,  that  file  fliou'd  turn 
 her  t'lmcy  her  in'indy  her  health  and  flrength  to 
 the  fame  ufes  that  flie  turn'd  her  fortune.  It 
 is  owing  to  her  being  wrong  in  lb  great  an  ar^ 
 tide  of  life,  that  you  can  fee  nothing  wife,  or 
 rcaibnabk,  or  pious  in  any  other  part  of  it. 
 
 Now  though  the  irregular  trifling  Ipirit  of 
 this  char  ad  er  belongs,  I  hope,  but  to  few 
 people,  yet  many  may  here  learn  Ibme  in- 
 Ixruclion  from  it,  and  perhaps  fee  fomething 
 of  their  own  fpirit  in  it. 
 
 For  as  Ylav'ia  ieems  to  be  undone  by  the  un- 
 realbnable  ufe  of  her  fortune,  fo  the  lownefs  of 
 mofl:  peoples  virtue,  the  trnperfeB'ions  of  their 
 piety,  and  the  difcrders  oi  xhdr  pajjionsy  is  ge- 
 nerally ov/ing  to  their  imprudent  ule  and  en- 
 joyment of  lawful  and  innocent  things. 
 
 More  people  are  kept  from  a  true  lenfe  and 
 tafte  of  Religion,  by  a  regular  kind  of  fen*- 
 iuality  and  indulgence,  than  by  grofs  dran-^ 
 kennefs.     More  itacn  live  r^gardlefs  of  the  great 
 
 H  3  duties 
 
I02  A  Serious  Call 
 
 duties  of  piety,  through  too  great  a  concern 
 for  worldly  goods,  than  through  dtreB  in- 
 jujike. 
 
 This  man  would  perhaps  be  devout,  if  he 
 was  not  fo  great  a  Vtrtuojb.  Another  is  deaf 
 to  all  the  motives  to  piety,  by  indulging  an 
 Idle^  Jhthfid  temper. 
 
 Could  you  cure  This  man  of  his  great  cur'tO" 
 
 Jity  and  inquijitwe  temper,  or  That  of  his  falje 
 
 fatisfa£l:ion  and  thirji  after  learnings  you  need 
 
 do  no  more  to  make  them  both  become  men 
 
 of  great  piety. 
 
 If  This  woman  would  make  fewer  v'ljits^  or 
 That  not  be  always  talking^  they  would  neither 
 of  them  find  it  half  fo  hard  to  be  affeded 
 with  Religion. 
 
 For  all  thefe  things  are  only  little^  when 
 they  are  compared  to  ^r^^/^y/^jj  and  though 
 they  are  little  in  that  refped,  yet  they  are 
 great,  as  they  arc  hn^edinients  and  hindrances 
 of  a  pious  li3irit. 
 
 For  as  conpdcraUon  is  the  only  eye  of  the 
 foul,  as  the  truths  of  Religion  can  be  feen  by 
 nothing  elfe,  fo  whatever  raifes  a  levity  of 
 mind,  a  trifling  fpirit,  renders  the  foul  inca^ 
 pable  of  feeing,  apprehending,  and  relifhing 
 the  doftrincs  of  piety. 
 
 Would  we  therefore  make  a  real  progrefs  in 
 Religion,  we  mull  not  only  abhor  grofs  and 
 fiotorious  fins,  but  we  muft  regulate  the  inno-^ 
 cent  and  lawful  parts  of  our  behaviour,  and 
 put  the  moft  common  and  allow'd  actions  of 
 life  "u^idex  the  rules  of  difcretion  and  piety. 
 
 C  H  A  Po 
 
to  a  devout  and  Holy  Life.      103 
 
 CHAP.     VIIL 
 
 How  the  wife  and  fious  Vfe  of  an  Efiate  72atu* 
 rally  carrleth  us  to  great  jperfeiiion  In  all  the 
 virtues  of  the  Chriftian  Life  j  re^refented  in 
 the  charatfer  of  Miranda. 
 
 ANY  one  pious  regularity  of  any  one 
 part  of  our  life,  is  of  great  advantage, 
 not  only  on  its  own  account,  but  as  it  ufes  us 
 to  live  by  rule,  and  think  of  the  government 
 of  ourfelvcs. 
 
 A  man  of  bufinefs,  that  has  brought  one 
 part  of  his  affairs  under  certain  rules,  is  in  a 
 fair  way  to  take  the  fame  care  of  the  reft. 
 
 So  he  that  has  brought  any  one  part  of  his 
 life  under  the  rules  of  religion,  may  thence 
 be  taught  to  extend  the  fame  order  and  regu- 
 larity into  other  parts  of  his  life. 
 
 If  any  one  is  fo  wife  as  to  think  his  time 
 too  precious  to  be  difpofed  of  by  chance,  and 
 left  to  be  devoured  by  anything  that  happens 
 in  his  way.  If  he  lays  himfclf  under  a  necel^ 
 lity  of  obferving  how  every  day  goes  through 
 his  hands,  and  obliges  himfelf  to  a  certain 
 order  of  time  in  his  bujtnefsj  his  retirements^ 
 and  devotions^  it  is  hardly  to  be  imagined, 
 how  foon  fuch  a  condud  would  reform,  im-^ 
 .prove,  and  perfed  the  whole  courfe  of  his 
 Jife. 
 
 H  4  He 
 
104  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 He  that  once  thus  knows  the  value,  and 
 reaps  the  advantage  of  a  well-order'd  time, 
 will  not  long  be  a  ftranger  to  the  value  of  any- 
 thing elfc  that  is  of  any  real  concern  to  him, 
 
 A  rule  that  relates  even  to  the  fmallefl:  part 
 of  our  life,  is  of  great  benefit  to  us,  merely  as 
 it  is  a  rule. 
 
 For,  as  the  Proverb  faith.  He  that  has  be- 
 gun welly  has  half  done  :  So  he  that  has  begun 
 to  live  by  rule,  has  gone  a  great  way  towards 
 the  perfedion  of  his  life. 
 
 By  rtiky  muft  here  be  conftantly  underftood, 
 a  religious  ruky  obferved  upon  a  principle  of 
 duty  to  God. 
 
 For  if  a  man  fliould  oblige  himfelf  to  be 
 moderate  in  his  meals ^  only  in  regard  to  his 
 jiomach  ;  or  abftain  from  drinking^  only  to  a- 
 void  the  head-ach^  or  be  moderate  in  his  Jleep^ 
 through  fear  of  a  lethargy ^  he  might  be  exad 
 in  thefe  rules,  without  being  at  all  the  better 
 man  for  them. 
 
 But  when  he  is  moderate  and  regular  in  any 
 of  thefe  things,  out  of  a  fenfe  oi  Chrlfilanfo" 
 hrlety  ?indjelf'-demalj  that  he  may  offer  unto 
 God  a  more  reafonable  and  holy  life,  then  it 
 is  that  xh^fmalleji  rule  of  this  kind,  is  natu- 
 rally the  beginning  of  great  piety. 
 
 For  the  fmallefl:  rule  in  thefe  matters  is  of 
 great  benefit,  as  it  teaches  us  fome  part  of  the 
 government  of  our  felves,  as  it  keeps  up  a 
 tender nefs  of  rmnd,  as  it  prelcnts  God  often  to 
 our  thoughts,  and  brings  a  fenfe  of  religion 
 into  the  ordinary  a(3:ion$  of  our  common  life. 
 
 u 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      105 
 
 If  a  man,  whenever  he  was  in  company, 
 where  any  on^  J  wore  ^  talk'd  lewdly^  or  ipoke 
 evil  of  his  neighbour,  fhould  make  it  a  rule 
 to  himfelf,  cither  gently  to  reprove  him,  or 
 if  that  was  not  proper,  then  to  leave  the  com- 
 pany as  decently  as  he  could ;  he  would  lind 
 that  this  little  rule,  like  a  little  leaven  hid  in 
 a  great  quantity  of  meal^  would  fpread  and 
 extend  it  felf  through  the  whole  form  of  his 
 life. 
 
 If  another  fliould  oblige  himfelf  to  abftain 
 on  the  Lords-day  from  many  innocent  and  law- 
 ful things,  as  travellings  v'ljiting^  common  con- 
 verfatlon^  and  difcourfing  upon  worldly  mat- 
 ters^  as  trade^  news^^nd  the  like ;  if  he  fhould 
 devote  the  day,  befides  the  publick  worfhip, 
 to  greater  retirement,  reading,  devotion,  in- 
 ftrudion,  and  works  of  Charity:  Though  it 
 may  feem  but  a  fmall  thing,  or  a  needlels  ni- 
 cety, to  require  a  man  to  abftain  from  fuch 
 things,  as  may  be  done  without  fin,  yet  who- 
 ever would  try  the  benefit  of  \o  little  a  rule, 
 would  perhaps  thereby  find  I'uch  a  change 
 made  in  his  Ipirit,  and  fuch  a  tafte  of  piety 
 jailed  in  his  mind,  as  he  was  an  entire  ftran- 
 ger  to  before. 
 
 It  would  be  eafy  to  fhew  in  many  other  in- 
 llances,  how  little  and  fmall  matters,  are  the 
 firfl:  fteps,  and  natural  beginnings  of  great 
 perfedion. 
 
 But  the  two  things  which  of  3!!  others, 
 moft  want  to  be  under  a  ilric  '  which 
 
 are  the  greateft  bleffings  bou  ..  leives 
 
io6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 and  others,  when  they  are  rightly  us'd,  arc 
 our  timey  and  our  money.  Thcfc  talents  are 
 continual  means  and  opportunities  of  doing 
 good. 
 
 He  that  is  pioufly  ftrid,  and  exad  in  the 
 wife  management  of  either  of  thefe,  cannot 
 be  long  ignorant  of  the  right  ufe  of  the  other. 
 And  he  that  is  happy  in  the  religious  care 
 and  difpofal  of  them  both,  is  already  afcen- 
 dcd  ieveral  fteps  upon  the  ladder  of  Chriftian 
 perfection. 
 
 Miranda^  ( the  fifter  of  Flavia )  is  a  Ibber 
 realbnable  Chriftian;  as  fbon  as  Ihe  was  mi- 
 ftrefs  of  her  time  and  fortune^  it  was  her  firft 
 thought,  how  file  might  heft  fulfil  every  thing 
 that  God  required  of  her  in  the  ufe  of  them, 
 and  how  flie  might  make  the  beft  and  happi- 
 eft  ufe  of  this  fliort  life.  She  depends  upon 
 the  truth  of  what  our  bleffed  Lord  hath  laid, 
 that  there  Is  hat  one  thing  needful^  and  there- 
 fore makes  her  whole  life  but  one  continual 
 labour  after  it.  She  has  but  one  reafon  for 
 doing  or  not  doing,  for  liking  or  not  liking 
 any  thing,  and  that  is  the  will  of  God.  She 
 is  not  fo  weak,  as  to  pretend  to  add,  what  is 
 caird  xh^  fine  lady^  to  the  true  Chriftian;  Af/- 
 randa  thinks  too  well,  to  be  taken  with  the 
 fotmd  of  fuch  filly  words ;  flie  has  renounc'd 
 the  world,  to  follow  Chrift  in  the  exercife  of 
 humility,  charity,  devotion,  abftinence,  and 
 heavenly  affeftions ;  and  that  is  Miranda's  fin^ 
 breeding, 
 
 WhUft 
 
to  a  De^oHt  and  Holy  Life.       loj 
 
 Whilft  Ihc  was  under  her  mother^  fhe  was 
 forced  to  be  g^enteel^  to  live  in  ceremony ^  to 
 fit  up  late  at  nlghts^to  be  in  the  folly  of  eveiy 
 fcifJjtoH^  and  always  v'lfiting  on  Sundays.  To 
 go  fatch'd^  and  loaded  with  a  burden  of  jinery^ 
 to  the  holy  Sacrament ;  to  be  in  every  polite 
 converfat'ion^  to  hear  prophanenefs  at  the  phy^ 
 houje^  and  wanton  longs  and  love  intrigues 
 at  the  opera^  to  dance  at  publick  places,  that 
 fops  and  rakes  might  admire  the  finenels  of 
 her  Jhape^  and  the  beauty  of  her  motions. 
 The  remembrance  of  this  way  of  life,  makes 
 her  exceeding  careful  to  at  one  for  it,  by  a 
 contrary  behaviour. 
 
 Miranda  does  not  divide  her  duty  between 
 God,  her  neighbour,  and  her  felf ;  but  flie  con- 
 fiders  all  as  due  to  God,  and  lb  does  every 
 thing  in  his  name,  and  for  his  fake.  This 
 makes  her  confider  her  Jortune^  as  the  gift  of 
 God,  that  is  to  be  ufed  as  every  thing  is,  that 
 belongs  to  God,  for  the  wife  and  realbnable 
 ends  of  a  Chriftian  and  holy  life.  Itlcx  fortune 
 therefore  is  divided  betwixt  hqr  lelf,  and  feve- 
 ral  other  poor  ^eople^  and  fhe  has  only  her 
 part  of  relief  from  it.  She  thinks  it  the  fame 
 folly  to  indulge  her  felf  in  needlefs,  vain  ex-> 
 pences,  as  to  give  to  other  People  to  fpend  in 
 the  fame  way.  Therefore  as  fhe  will  not  give 
 a  poor  man  money  to  go  fee  a  '^uppet^fhew^ 
 neither  will  ftie  allow  her  felf  any  to  fpend  in 
 the  fame  manner;  thinking  it  very  proper  to 
 be  as  wife  her  felf,  as  Ihe  expeds  poor  men 
 
 fliould 
 
lo8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 fliould  be.  For  it  is  a  folly  and  a  crime  in  a 
 foor  man,  fays  Miranda^  to  wafte  what  is 
 given  him^  in  foolifh  trifles,  whilft  he  wants 
 ?}2eatj  dr'ink  and  cloaths. 
 
 And  is  it  lefs  folly,  or  a  lefs  crime  in  me  to 
 fpend  that  money  in  filly  diverfions,  which 
 might  be  fo  much  better  fpent  in  imitation  of 
 the  divine  goodnefs,  in  works  of  kindnefs 
 and  charity  towards  my  fellow  creatures,  and 
 fellow  Chriftians  ?  If  a  poor  man's  own  necej^ 
 Jities  are  a  reafon  why  he  fhould  not  wafte  any 
 of  his  money  idly,  furely  the  neceffities  of 
 the  foor^  the  excellency  of  Charity,  which  is 
 received  as  done  to  Chrift  himfelf,  is  a  much 
 greater  reafon^  why  no  one  fhould  ever  wafte 
 any  of  his  money.  For  if  he  does  fo,  he  does 
 not  only  do  like  the  poor  man,  only  wafte 
 that  which  he  wants  himfelf,  but  he  waftes 
 that  which  is  wanted  for  the  moft  noble  ufe, 
 and  which  Chrift  himfelf  is  ready  to  receive  at 
 his  hands.  And  if  we  are  angry  at  a  poor 
 man,  and  look  upon  him  as  a  wretch^  when 
 he  throws  away  that  which  ftiould  buy  his  own 
 bread ;  how  muft  w*e  appear  in  the  fight  of 
 God,  if  we  make  a  wanton  idle  ufe  of  that, 
 which  Ihould  buy  bread  and  cloaths  for  the 
 hungry  and  naked  brethren,  who  are  as  near 
 and  dear  to  God,  as  we  are,  and  fellow  heirs 
 of  the  fame  ftate  of  future  Glory  ?  This  is 
 the  fpirit  of  Miranda^  and  thus  fhe  ufes  the 
 gifts  of  God ;  f^e  is  only  one  of  a  certain 
 number  of  por  People y  that  are  relieved  oxxtoi 
 
 her 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       109 
 
 her  fortune,  and  fhe  only  differs  from  them 
 in  the  hJeJfedneJs  of  giving. 
 
 Excepting  her  victuals,  fhe  never  fpent 
 near  ten  pound  a  year  upon  her  felf.  If  you 
 was  to  fee  her,  you  would  wonder  what  poor 
 body  it  was,  that  was  lb  furprizingly  neat  and 
 clean.  She  has  ?)ut  one  rule  that  fhe  obferves 
 in  her  drefs,  to  be  always  clean^  and  in  the 
 cheapefi  things.  Every  thing  about  her  refem- 
 bles  the  purity  of  her  foul,  and  fhe  is  always 
 clean  without,  becaule  fhe  is  always  pure 
 within*- 
 
 Every  morning  fees  her  early  at  her  Prayers, 
 fhe  rejoices  in  the  beginning  of  every  day, 
 becaule  it  begins  all  her  pious  rules  of  holy 
 living,  and  brings  the  frefh  pleafure  of  repea- 
 ting them.  She  feems  to  be  as  a  guardian 
 Angel  to  thofe  that  dwell  about  her,  with  her 
 watchings  and  prayers  bleffing  the  place  where 
 fhe  ciwells,  and  making  interceffion  w^th  God 
 for  thole  that  are  afleep. 
 
 Her  devotions  have  had  fome  intervals, 
 and  God  has  heard  feveral  of  her  private 
 Prayers,  before  the  light  is  fuffer'd  to  enter 
 into  her  filter's  room.  Miranda  does  not  know 
 what  it  is  to  have  a  dull  half-day*  the  re- 
 turns of  her  hours  of  Prayer,  and  her  rehgi- 
 ous  exercifes,  come  too  often  to  let  any  confi- 
 derable  part  of  it  lye  heavy  upon  her  hands. 
 
 When  you  fee  her  at  -z^w-fe,  you  fee  the 
 fame  wifdom  that  governs  all  her  other 
 adions,  fhe  is  either  doing  Ibmething  that  is 
 neceffary  for  her  felf^  ^r  necelTary  for  others. 
 
 who 
 
j\o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 who  want  to  be  affifted.  There  is  fcairce  a 
 poor  fcimily  in  the  neighbourhood,  but  wears 
 fomething  or  other  that  has  had  the  labour  of 
 her  hands.  Her  wife  and  pious  mind  neither 
 wants  the  amulement,  nor  can  bear  with  the 
 folly  of  idle  and  impertinent  work.  She  can 
 admit  of  no  fuch  folly  as  this  in  the  day,  be- 
 caufe  fhe  is  to  anfwer  for  all  her  adions  at 
 night.  When  there  is  no  wifdom  to  be  ob- 
 ferv'd  in  the  employment  of  her  hands,  when 
 there  is  no  tifeful  or  charitable  work  to  be 
 done,  Miranda  will  work  no  more.  At  her 
 table  ftie  lives  ftrictly  by  this  rule  of  holy 
 Scripture,  whether  ye  eat^  or  drlnk^  or  what-- 
 ever  ye  do^  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God,  This 
 makes  her  begin  and  end  every  meal,  as  flie 
 begins  and  ends  every  day,  with  ads  of  de- 
 votion :  She  eats  and  drinks  only  for  the  fake 
 of  living,  and  with  fo  regular  an  abftinence, 
 that  every  meal  is  an  exercife  of  felf-denlal^ 
 and  fhe  humbles  her  body,  every  time  that 
 ihe  is  forc'd  to  feed  it.  If  Miranda  was  to 
 run  a  race  for  her  life,  Ihe  would  fubmit  to  a 
 diet  that  was  proper  for  it.  But  as  the  race 
 which  is  let  before  her,  is  a  race  of  hoUnefsj 
 purity^  and  heavenly  affection,  which  fhe  is  to 
 finifh  in  a  corrupt,  diforder'd  body  of  earthly 
 paifions,  fo  her  every  day  diet  has  only  this 
 one  end,  to  make  her  body  fitter  for  this 
 fpiritual  race.  She  does  not  weigh  her  meat 
 in  a  pair  o{ Jcalcs^  but  fhe  weighs  it  ir  x 
 much  better  balance;  lb  much  as  p-  -  \ 
 proper  llrength  to  her  body,  and  xciUcUns    t 
 
to  a  Vez^ont  and  Holy  Life.      1 1  i 
 
 able  and  willing  to  obey  the  foul,  to  join  in 
 Piklms  and  Prayers,  and  lift  up  eyes  and 
 hands  towards  Heaven  with  greater  rcadi- 
 nefs,  fo  much  is  Miranda's  meal.  So  that 
 Miranda  will  never  have  her  eyes  fwell  with 
 fatnefs,  or  pant  under  a  heavy  load  of  flefli, 
 'till  fhe  has  changed  her  rehgion. 
 
 The  holy  Scriptures,  efpecially  of  the  new 
 Teftanient,  are  her  daily  ttudy;  thefe  flic 
 reads  with  a  watchful  attention,  conftantly 
 calling  an  eye  upon  her  lelf,  and  trying  her 
 lelf,  by  every  dodrine  that  is  there.  When 
 flic  has  the  new  Teftament  in  her  hand,  ftie 
 fuppofcs  her  felf  at  the  feet  of  our  Saviour 
 and  his  Apoftles,  and  makes  every  thing  that 
 flie  learns  of  them,  fo  many  laws  of  her  life. 
 She  receives  their  lacred  words  with  as  much 
 attention,  and  reverence,  as  if  flie  law  their 
 perfons,  and  knew  that  they  were  juft  come 
 from  Heaven,  on  purpofe  to  teach  her  the 
 way  that  leads  to  it. 
 
 She  thinks,  that  the  trying  of  her  felf  eve- 
 ry day  by  the  doftrines  of  Scripture,  is  the 
 only  poffible  way  to  be  ready  for  her  trial  at 
 the  laft  day.  She  is  Ibmetimes  afraid  that  flie 
 lays  out  too  much  m.oney  in  books,  becaufe 
 flie  cannot  forbear  buying  all  practical  books 
 of  any  note  ;  efpecially  fuch  as  enter  into  the 
 heart  of  religion,  and  defcribe  the  inward  ho- 
 linefs  of  the  chriftian  life.  But  of  all  human 
 writings,  the  lives  of  pious  perfons,  and  emi- 
 nent faints,  are  her  greateft  delight.  In  thefc 
 ihe  fearches  as   for  hidden  treafure,  hopino;  to 
 
 find 
 
1 1  a  A  Serious  Call 
 
 find  fome  fecret  of  holy  living,  fome  uncom- 
 mon degree  of  piety,  which  Ihe  may  make 
 her  own.  By  this  means  Mirandcir  has  her 
 head  and  her  heart  fo  ftor'd  w^ith  all  the  prin- 
 ciples of  wifdom  and  holinels,  fhe  is  fo  full 
 of  the  one  main  bufinels  of  life,  that  Ihe  finds 
 it  difficult  to  converfe  upon  any  other  fubjed; 
 and  if  you  are  in  her  company,  when  flie 
 thinks  it  proper  to  talk,  you  mull  be  made 
 wifer  and  better,  whether  you  will  or  no. 
 
 To  relate  her  charity,  w^ould  be  to  relate 
 the  hiftory  of  every  day  for  twenty  years ;  for 
 fo  long  has  all  her  fortune  been  fpent  that 
 w^ay.  She  has  let  up  near  twenty  poor  tradel- 
 men  that  had  fiiird  in  their  bufinefs,  and 
 faved  as  many  from  failing.  She  has  educa- 
 ted feveral  poor  children,  that  were  picked  up 
 in  the  ftreets,  and  put  them  in  a  way  of  an 
 honeft  employment.  As  foon  as  any  labourer 
 is  confin'd  at  home  with  ficknels,  Ihe  fends 
 him,  till  he  recovers,  twice  the  value  of  his 
 w^ages,  that  he  may  have  one  part  to  give  to 
 his  family,  as  ufual,  and  the  other  to  provide 
 things  convenient  for  his  ficknefs. 
 
 If  a  family  feems  too  large  to  be  fupported 
 by  the  labour  of  thole  that  can  work  in  it, 
 flie  pays  their  rent,  and  gives  them  fomething 
 yearly  towards  their  cloathing.  By  this  means 
 there  are  feveral  poor  families  that  live  in  a 
 comfortable  manner,  and  are  from  year  to 
 year  blciling  her  in  their  prayers. 
 
 If  there  is  any  poor  man  or  woman,  that 
 is  more  than  ordinarily  wicked  and  reprobate, 
 
 Miranda 
 
to  a  Devout  aitd  Holy  Life.        113 
 
 Mtranda  has  her  eye  upon  them,  llie  watches 
 their  time  of  need  and  advcrfity ;  and  if  Ihe 
 can  dilcover  that  they  are  in  any  great 
 ftreights  or  affliftion,  fhe  gives  them  fpcedy 
 rehef.  She  has  this  care  for  this  fort  of  peo- 
 ple, becaufe  fhe  once  favcd  a  very  profligate 
 perfon  from  being  carry*d  to  prifon,  who  im- 
 mediately became  a  true  penitent. 
 
 There  is  nothing  in  the  character  o^  Miranda 
 more  to  be  admir'd,  than  this  temper.  For 
 this  tendernefs  of  affection  towards  the  moft 
 abaudon'd  finners,  is  the  higheft  inftance  of  a 
 divine  and  godlike  foul. 
 
 Mtranda  once  paffed  by  a  houfe,  Avhere  the 
 man  and  his  wife  were  curfing  and  fwearing  at 
 one  another  in  a  moft  dreadful  manner,  and 
 three  children  crying  about  them  ;  this  fight 
 fo  much  affeded  her  compaffionate  mind,  that 
 Ihe  went  the  next  day,  and  bought  the  three 
 children,  that  they  might  not  be  ruin'd  by 
 living  with  fuch  wicked  parents;  they  now 
 live  with  Miranda^  are  bleifed  with  her  care 
 and  prayers,  and  all  the  good  works  which 
 flie  can  do  for  them.  They  hear  her  talk, 
 they  fee  her  live,  they  join  with  her  in  Pfalms 
 and  Prayers.  The  eldeft  of  them  has  already 
 converted  his  parents  fro;m  their  v/icked  life, 
 and  Ihews  a  turn  of  mind  fo  remarkably  pi- 
 ous, that  Miranda  intends  him  for  koly  orders ; 
 that  being  thus  fav'd  himfelf,  he  may  be  zea- 
 lous in  the  lalvation  of  fouls,  and  do  to  other 
 miferable  objefts,  as  Ihe  has  done  to  him. 
 
 I  Mtranda 
 
1 1 A  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Mirtwda  is  a  conftant  relief  to  poor  people 
 in  their  misforttnies  and  accidents  ;  there  are 
 fometimcs  httle  misfortunes  that  happen  to 
 them,  which  of  themfelves  they  could  never 
 be  able  to  overcome.  The  death  of  a  cow^  or  a 
 hor/e^  or  fome  little  robbery^  would  keep  them 
 in  diftrefs  all  their  lives.  She  does  not  fuffer 
 them  to  grieve  under  fuch  accidents  as  thefe. 
 She  immediately  gives  them  the  full  value  of 
 their  lols,  and  makes  ufe  of  it  as  a  means  of 
 laifing  their  minds  towards  God. 
 
 She  has  a  great  tendcrnefs  for  old  people  that 
 are  grown  paft  their  labour.  The  parifti  al- 
 lowance to  luch  people,  is  very  feldom  a  com- 
 fortable maintenance.  For  this  reafon,  they 
 are  the  conftant  objefts  of  her  care ;  flie  adds 
 fo  much  to  their  allowance,  as  Ibmewhat  ex- 
 ceeds the  wages  they  got  when  they  were 
 young.  This  Ihe  does  to  comfort  the  infirmi- 
 ties of  their  age,  that  being  free  from  trouble 
 and  diftrefs,  they  may  ferve  God  in  peace  and 
 tranquility  of  mind.  She  has  generally  a 
 large  number  of  this  kind,  who  by  her  cha- 
 rities and  exhortations  to  holinefs,  fpend  their 
 laft  days  in  great  piety  and  devotion. 
 
 Miranda  never  wants  compaffion,  even  to 
 common  beggars  \  efpecially  towards  thofe  that 
 are  old  or  Jick^  or  full  oi  fores ^  that  want  eyes 
 or  limbs.  She  hears  their  complaints  with 
 tendernefs,  gives  them  fome  proof  of  her 
 kindnels,  and  never  rejefts  them  with  hard, 
 or  reproachful  language,  for  fear  of  adding  af- 
 fliftion  to  her  fellow  creatures. 
 
 If 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       i  i  5 
 
 If  a  poor  old  traveller  tells  her,  that  he  has 
 neithery?/Y7/g/y&,  nor  Joodj  nor  77iomy  left,  fhe 
 never  bids  him  go  to  the  place  from  whence 
 he  came ;  or  tells  him,  that  fhe  cannot  relieve 
 him,  becaufe  he  may  be  a  cheat^  or  fhe  does 
 not  know  him ;  but  Ihe  relieves  him  for  that 
 reafon,  becaufe  he  is  a  finwger^  and  unkmwn 
 to  her.  For  it  is  the  moll  noble  part  of  cha- 
 rity, to  be  kind  and  tender  to  thole  whom  we 
 never  law  before,  and  perhaps  never  may  fee 
 again  in  this  life.  I  was  a  jiranger^  and  ye 
 took  7116  172^  faith  our  blelled  Saviour ;  but  who 
 can  perform  this  duty,  that  will  not  relieve 
 perfons  that  are  unknown  to  him  ? 
 
 Miranda  confiders,  that  Lazarus  w^as  a  com- 
 mon beggar,  that  he  Was  the  care  of  Angelsy 
 and  carry Yl  into  Abraham*^  bolbm.  She  con- 
 fiders, that  our  blefTed  Saviour,  and  his  Apo- 
 files,  were  kind  to  beggars'^  that  they  fpoke 
 comfortably  to  them,  healed  their  difeafes, 
 and  reftor'd  eyes  and  limbs  to  the  lame  and 
 blin^.  That  ^eter  laid  to  the  beggar  that 
 wanted  an  alms  from  him,  filver  and  gold  have 
 I  no7ie^  hut  Juch  as  I  have  give  I  thee ;  /;;  the 
 name  of  Jejus  Chriji  of  Nazareth^  rife  up  and 
 walk,  Miranda^  therefore,  never  treats  beg- 
 gars w^ith  difregard  and  averfion,  but  fhe  imi- 
 tates the  kindnefs  of  our  Saviour  and  his 
 Apoftles  towards  them ;  and  though  flie  can- 
 not, like  them,  w^ork  miracles  for  their  relief, 
 yet  fhe  relieves  them  with  that  power  that  fhe 
 hath ;  aud  may  fay  with  the  Apoftle,  Jiich  as 
 I  have  give  I  thee^  in  the  72a7ne  of  Jefus  Chrifi. 
 
 \  X  It 
 
1 1 6  A  Serious   Call 
 
 It  may  be,  fays  Miranda^  that  I  may  often 
 give  to  thole  that  do  not  deferve  it,  or  that 
 \vill  miJve  an  ///  uje  of  my  alms.  But  what 
 then?  Is  not  this  the  very  method  of  divine 
 eoodnefs  ?  Does  not  God  make  h's  fun  to  rife 
 ^on  the  evil^  dnd  on  the  good  F  Is  not  this  the 
 very  goodnefs  that  is  recommended  to  us  in 
 Scripture,  that  by  imitating  of  it,  we  may 
 be  children  of  our  Father  which  is  in  Heaven, 
 rohofendcth  ra'm  on  the  jnfl^  and  on  the  tinjiijl? 
 And  Ihall  I  with-hold  a  little  mcney^  or  food^ 
 from  my  fellow  creature,  for  fear  he  fhould 
 not  be  good  enough  to  receive  it  of  me  ?  Do 
 I  beg  of  God  to  deal  w^ith  me,  not  according 
 to  my  merit,  but  according  to  his  own  great 
 goodnefs  ^  and  fhall  I  be  fo  abfurd,  as  to 
 with-hold  my  charity  from  a  poor  brother, 
 becaufe  he  may  perhaps  not  deferve  it  ?  fhall 
 I  ufe  a  meafiire  towards  him,  which  I  pray 
 God  never  to  ufe  towards  me  ? 
 
 Befides,  where  has  the  Scripture  made  me-' 
 Tit  the  rule  or  meafure  of  charity  ?  On  the 
 contrary,  the  Scripture  faith,  f  thy  enemy 
 hunger^  feed  htm  \  if  he  thtrji^  g'we  him  drink. 
 
 Now  this  plainly  teaches  us,  that  the  merit 
 of  perfons  is  to  be  no  rule  of  our  charity,  but 
 that  we  arc  to  do  ads  of  kindnefs  to  thofe 
 that  leaf}  of  all  dclerve  it.  For  if  I  am  to 
 love  and  do  good  to  my  wortt  enemies  *  if  I 
 am  to  be  charitable  to  them,  notwithftanding 
 all  their  fpght  and  malice^  furely  merit  is  no 
 meafure  of  charity.  If  I  am  not  to  with- 
 liold  my  charity  from  fuch  bad  people,  and 
 
 who 
 
to  a  T)evoHt  and  Holy  Life.        1 1 7 
 
 who  are  at  the  fame  time  my  enemies,  furely 
 I  am  not  to  deny  alms  to  poor  beggars,  whom 
 I  neither  know  to  be  bad  people,  nor  any 
 way  my  enemies. 
 
 You  will  perhaps  lay,  that  by  this  means 
 I  encourage  people  to  be  beggars.  But  the 
 lame  thoughtlels  objeftion  may  be  made 
 againft  cill  kinds  of  charities,  for  they  may  en- 
 courage people  to  depend  upon  them.  The 
 lame  may  be  laid  againft  jorgiving  our  ene- 
 mies, for  it  may  encourage  people  to  do  us  hurt. 
 The  fame  may  be  laid,  even  againft  the  good- 
 nels  of  God,  that  by  pouring  his  bleffings  on 
 the  evil  and  on  the  good,  on  the  juft  and  on 
 the  unjuft,  evil  and  unjuft  men  are  encouraged 
 in  their  wicked  ways.  The  fame  may  be  laid 
 againft  cloathing  the  naked,  or  giving  medi- 
 cines to  the  flck,  for  that  may  encourage  peo- 
 ple to  negleB  themfelves,  and  be  carelefs  of 
 their  health.  But  when  the  love  of  God  dwel- 
 leth  in  you^  when  it  has  enlarged  your  heart, 
 and  filled  you  v/ith  bowels  of  mercy  and  com- 
 panion, you  will  make  no  more  luch  objedi^ 
 ons  as  thele. 
 
 When  you  are  at  any  time  turning  away 
 the  foor^  the  old^  the  jick  and  helplefs  travel- 
 ler, the  lame^  or  the  blind^  ask  your  felf  this 
 queltion ;  do  I  fincerely  wifti  thefe  poor  crea-^ 
 tures  may  be  as  happy  as  LazaruSj  that  was 
 carry'd  by  Angels  into  Abraham's  bofom?  Do 
 I  fincerely  defire  that  God  would  make  them 
 fellow-heirs  with  me  in  eternal  Glory  ?  Now 
 if  you  fearch  into  your  foul,   you  will  find 
 
 I  3  that 
 
1 1 8  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 that  there   is  none  of   thefe  motions  there  5, 
 that  you  are  wifhing  nothing  of  this.     For  it 
 is  impofi'iblc  for  any  one  heartily  to  wifli  a 
 poor  creature  lb  great  a  happinefs,    and  yet 
 not  have  a  heart  to  give  him  a  fmall  ahiis. 
 For  this  rcaibn,  fays  Miranda^  as  far  as  I  can^ 
 I  give  to  all^  becaufe  I  pray  to  God  to  forgive 
 t7/7;  and   I  cannot  refule  an  ahis  to  thole, 
 \vhom  I  pray  God  to  blels,  whom  I  wifli  to 
 be  partakers  of  eternal  glory  ^  but  am  glad  to 
 ftcw  Ibme  degree  of  love  to  luch,  as  I  hope, 
 will  be  the  objects  of  the  infinite  love  of  God. 
 And   if,  as  our  Saviour  has  aflur'd  us,  it  he 
 more  hJeJJtd  to  give  than  to  receive^  we  ought 
 to  look  upon  thole  that  ask  our  alms,  as  lb 
 many  friends  and  benefaBors^  that  come  to  do 
 us  a  greater  good  than  they  can  receive,  that 
 come  to  exalt  our  virtue,  to  be  witfiejfcs   of 
 our  charity,  to  be  monuments  of  our  love,  to 
 be  our  advocates  with   God,   to  be  to  us  in 
 Chrift's  ftead,  to  appear  for  us  at  the  day  of 
 judgment ,    and  to  help  us  to   a  bleflednefs 
 greater  than  our  alms  can  bellow  on  them. 
 
 This  is  the  Ipirit,  and  this  is  the  life  of  the 
 devout  Miranda ;  and  if  flie  lives  ten  years 
 longer  ,  fhe  will  have  fpent  fixty  hundred 
 pounds  in  charity,  for  that  which  fhe  allows 
 her  fclf,  may  fairly  be  reckoned  amongft  her 
 dhns. 
 
 When  fhe  dies,  fhe  muft  fhine  amongft  ^^- 
 ftlcs^  and  Saints^  and  Martyrs^  fhe  muft  ftand 
 4mongft  xhtjirjifervants  of  God^  and  be  glo- 
 rious 
 
to  a  De<vout  and  Holy  Life.       i  1 9 
 
 nous  amongft  thofe  that  have  fought  the  good 
 fight,  and  linilh'd  their  courle  with  joy. 
 
 CHAP.    IX. 
 
 Cot2tainhig  fome  refietl'ions  upon  the  life  of 
 Miranda,  and  (Jjewing  how  it  inay^  and  ought 
 to  he  imitated  by  all  herfex. 
 
 NO  W  this  life  of  Miranda^  which  I 
 heartily  recommend  to  the  imitation 
 of  her  fex,  however  contrary  it  may  feem  to 
 the  w^ay  and  fafliion  of  the  w^orld,  is  yet  fui- 
 table  to  the  true  fpirit,  and  founded  upon  the 
 plaineft  doftrines  of  chriftianity. 
 
 To  live  as  flie  does,  is  as  truly  fuitable  to 
 the  Gofpel  of  Chrift,  as  to  be  baptiz'dy  or 
 receive  the  Sacrament, 
 
 Her  fpirit  is  that,  which  animated  the 
 Saints  of  former  ages ;  and  it  is  becaufe  they 
 liv'd  as  Ihe  does,  that  we  now  celebrate  their 
 memories,  and  praife  God  for  their  examples. 
 
 There  is  nothing  that  is  whlmjical^  trlfl'ingj 
 or  tmreafonaUe  in  her  charader^  but  every 
 thing  there  defcrib'd,  is  a  right  and  proper 
 inftance  of  a  folid  and  real  piety. 
 
 It  is  as  eafy  to  fhew,  that  it  is  whmjical  to 
 go  to  church,  or  to  fay  ones  prayers,  as  that 
 it  is  whimfical  to  obferve  any  of  thefe  rules 
 of  life.  For  all  Miranda's  rules  of  living  un- 
 to God,  of  Ipending  her  time  and  fort  me  ^  of 
 
 I  4  eating, 
 
110  A  Serious  Call 
 
 eating,  working,  drefling,  and  convcrfing,  are 
 as  lubftantiiil  parts  of  a  realbnable  and  holy 
 life,  as  devotion  and  prayer. 
 
 For  there  is  nothing  to  be  faid,  for  the  wit» 
 doni  o^  Johriety^  the  wifdom  of  devotion^  the 
 wifdom  oUharlty^  or  the  wifdom  of  humility ^ 
 but  what  is  as  good  an  argument  for  the  wile 
 and  rcafonable  ufe  of  apparel 
 
 Neither  can  any  thing  be  faid  againft  the 
 folly  of  luxury^  the  folly  oi  Jenjliality^  the  fol- 
 ly of  extravagance^  the  folly  of  prodlgaUty^ 
 the  folly  of  amb'jt'wi?^  of  tdlenejsy  or  Indulgence^ 
 but  what  mull  be  faid  againft  the  folly  of 
 drefs.  For  religion  is  as  deeply  concerned  in 
 the  one,  as  in  the  other. 
 
 If  you  may  be  vain  in  one  thing,  you  may- 
 be vain  in  every  thing ;  for  one  kind  of  vani-- 
 ty  only  differs  from  another,  as  one  kind  of 
 intemperance  differs  from  another. 
 
 If  you  fpend  your  fortune  in  the  needlels 
 vain  finery  of  drefs,  you  cannot  condemn  pro- 
 digality, or  extravagance,  or  luxury,  without 
 condemning  your  felf 
 
 If  you  fancy  that  it  is  your  only  folly ^  and 
 that  therefore  there  can  be  no  great  matter  in 
 it  \  you  are  like  thole  that  think  they  are  on- 
 ly guilty  of  the  folly  of  coretoufnefs,  or  the 
 folly  of  ambition.  Now  though  fome  people 
 may  live  fo  plaufible  a  life,  as  to  appear 
 chargeable  with  no  other  fault,  than  that  of 
 covetoufnefs  or  ambition;  yet  the  cafe  is  not 
 as  it  appears,  for  covetoufnefs  or  ambition  can- 
 not fubfift  in  a  heart  that  is  in  other  refpeds. 
 rightly  devoted  to  God,  In 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life. 
 
 \2  I 
 
 In  like  manner,  though  ibme  people  may* 
 fpend  moft  that  they  have  in  necdlefs  expen- 
 five  ornaments  of  drels,  and  yet  leem  to  be 
 in  every  other  refpecl  truly  pious,  yet  it  is 
 certainly  falie;  for  it  is  as  impoflible  for  a 
 mind  that  is  in  a  true  ftate  of  religion,  to  be 
 vain  in  the  ule  of  cloaths,  as  to  be  vain  in 
 the  ufe  of  alms^  or  devoUons,  Now  to  con- 
 vince you  of  this  from  your  own  reflections, 
 let  us  luppofe  that  Ibme  e rain ent  faint ^  as  for 
 inftance,  that  the  holy  Virgin  Mary  was  lent 
 into  the  world,  to  be  again  in  a  ftate  of  trial 
 for  a  few  years,  and  that  you  was  going  to 
 her,  to  be  edify'd  by  her  great  piety.  Would 
 you  expect  to  find  her  drels'd  out  and  adornVl 
 in  fine  and  expenfive  cloaths  ?  No.  You 
 would  know  in  your  own  mind,  that  it  was 
 as  impoffible,  as  to  find  her  learning  to  dance. 
 Do  but  add  Jlnnt^  or  holy^  to  any  perfon, 
 either  rnan^  or  woman^  and  your  own  mind 
 tells  you  immediately,  that  liich  a  charafter 
 cannot  admit  of  the  vanity  of  fine  apparel. 
 KJaint  genteely  drels'd,  is  as  great  nonlenle, 
 as  an  jlpojile  in  an  ernhro'ider'd  fait  ;  every 
 ones  own  natural  lenle  convinces  him  of  the 
 inconfiftency  of  thefe  things. 
 
 Now  w^hat  is  the  reafon,  that  when  you 
 think  of  2i  fa'mt^  or  eminent  fervant  of  God, 
 you  cannot  admit  of  the  vanity  of  apparel  ? 
 Is  it  not  becaufe  it  is  inconfiftent  w^ith  fuch  a 
 right  ftate  of  heart,  fuch  true  and  exalted 
 piety?  And  is  not  this  therefore,  a  demon- 
 ftration,  that  where  fuch  vanity  is  admitted, 
 
 there 
 
122  A  Serious  Call 
 
 there  a  right  ftate  of  heart,  true  and  exalted 
 piety  mnft  needs  be  wanted  ?  For  as  certainly 
 as  the  holy  Virgin  Mary  could  not  indulge  her 
 iclf,  or  conform  to  the  vanity  of  the  world  in 
 drejs  'Andfgure-^  fo  certain  is  it,  that  none 
 CAW  indulge  themfelves  in  this  vanity,  but 
 thofe  who  w^ant  her  piety  of  heart ;  and  con- 
 fequcntly  it  mull  be  own'd,  that  all  needlefs 
 and  expenfive  finery  of  drefs,  is  the  efFeft  of  a 
 diforder'd  heart,  that  is  not  governed  by  the 
 true  Ipirit  of  religion. 
 
 Covetoujhefs  is  not  a  crime,  becaufe  there  is 
 any  harm  in  gold  or  fiver  ^  but  becaufe  it  fup- 
 pofcs  a  foolifli  and  unreafonable  ftate  of  mind, 
 that  is  flillen  from  its  true  good,  and  funk  in- 
 to ihch  a  poor  and  wretched  fatisfadion. 
 
 In  like  manner,  the  expenjive  Jinery  of  drefs 
 is  not  a  crime,  becaufe  there  is  any  thing 
 good  or  evil  in  cloaths,  but  becaufe  the  ex- 
 penfive ornaments  of  cloathing  fhews  zfoolijlj 
 and  unreafonahle  ftate  of  heart,  that  is  fallen 
 from  right  notions  of  human  nature,  that  a- 
 bufcs  tlie  end  of  cloathing,  and  turns  the  nc- 
 cefiities  of  life,  into  fo  many  inftances  of  pride 
 and  filly. 
 
 All  the  vv'orld  agree  in  condemning  remarha^ 
 hie  fops.  Now  what  is  the  reafon  of  it  ?  Is  it 
 becaufe  there  is  any  thing  finful  in  their  par-^ 
 ticnlar  drefs^  or  affeBed  manners  ?  No :  but  it 
 is  becaufe  all  people  know,  that  it  Ihews  the 
 ftate  of  a  man's  mind,  and  that  it  is  impofli- 
 ble  for  fo  ridiculous  an  outfide  to  have  any 
 thing  wife,    or  reafonable,    or  good  within^ 
 
 And 
 
to  a  Vc'voHt  and  Holy  Life.      123 
 
 And  indeed  to  fuppole  a  fop  of  great  piety ^  is 
 as  much  nonfenfe,  as  to  fuppofe  a  coward  of 
 great  courage.  So  tliat  all  the  world  agree  in 
 owning,  that  the  7ife  and  manner  of  cloaths  is 
 a  mark  of  the  ftate  of  a  man's  mind,  and 
 conlequently  that  it  is  a  thing  highly  eflential 
 to  religion.  But  then  it  fhould  be  well  conlider- 
 ed,  that  as  it  is  not  only  xhQ  Jot  that  is  guil- 
 ty of  intemperance,  but  every  one  that  trani- 
 grefTes  the  right  and  religious  mealures  of  eat- 
 ing and  drinking  ^  fo  it  fhould  be  confidered, 
 that  it  is  not  only  the  fop  that  is  guilty  of  the 
 vanity  and  abufe  of  drefs,  but  every  one  that 
 departs  from  the  realbnable  and  religious  ends 
 of  cloathing. 
 
 As  therefore  every  argument  3.gz'mG:  Jott/Jh- 
 nefs^  is  as  good  an  argument  againft  all  kinds 
 of  intemperance ;  ^o  every  argument  againft 
 the  vanity  of  J  ops  ^  is  as  good  an  argument  a- 
 gainft  all  vanity  and  abui'e  of  drefs.  For  they 
 are  all  of  the  fame  kind,  and  only  differ,  as 
 one  degree  of  intemperance  may  differ  from 
 another.  She  that  only  paints  a  little,  may 
 as  juftly  accufe  another,  becaufe  Ihe  paints  a 
 great  deal;  as  Ihe  that  ufes  but  a  common 
 finery  of  drefs,  accufe  another  that  is  excel- 
 five  in  her  finery. 
 
 For  as  in  the  matter  of  temperance,  there 
 is  no  rule^  but  the  Ibbriety,  that  is  according 
 to  the  doctrines  and  Ipirit  of  our  religion;  lb 
 in  the  matter  of  apparel,  there  is  no  rule  to  be 
 obferved,  but  liich  a  right  ufe  of  cloaths,  as 
 ^s  ftriaiy  according  to  the  doftrines  and  fpirit 
 
 of 
 
124  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 of  our  religion.     To  pretend  to  make  the  way 
 of'  the  world  our  mealure  in  thefe  things,  is  as 
 weak  and  ablurd,  as  to  make  the  way  of  the 
 world  the  meafure  of  our  fobriety,  abftinence, 
 or  humility.     It  is  a  pretence  that  is.  exceed- 
 ingly abfurd  in  the  mouths  of  Chriftians,  who 
 arc  to  be  lb  far  from  conforming  to  the  fafhi- 
 cns    of   this  life,    that   to  have  overcome  the 
 world^  is  made  an  eilential  mark  of  Chriftia- 
 nity. 
 
 This  therefore  is  the  way  that  you  are  to 
 judge  of  the  crime  of  vain  apparel:  You  are 
 to  coniider  it  as  an  offence  againft  the  proper 
 nfe  of  cloaths,   as  covetoufnefs  is  an  offence  a- 
 gainft  the  proper  uie  of  money  ;  you  are  to 
 confider  it  as  an  indulgence  of  proud  and  im^ 
 reajbii.ihle  tempers,  as  an  offence  againft  the 
 hnmility  and  fobrlety  of  the  Chriftian  Ipirit ; 
 you  are  to  confider  it  as  an  offence  againft  all 
 thofe  doctrines  that  require  you  to  do  all  to 
 X.\\Q  glory  of  God,  that  require  you  to  make  a 
 right  life  of  your  talents  \  you  are  to  confider 
 it  as  an  offence  againft  all  thofe  texts  of  Scri- 
 pture, that  command  you  to  love  your  neigh- 
 bour as  yourfelf,  to  feed  Xh.^  hungry,  to  cloath 
 the  naked,  and  do  all  works  of  charity  that 
 you  tire  able :  fo  that  you  muft  not  deceive 
 yourielf  with  faying.  Where  can  be  the  harm 
 oi    cloaths?   for  the  covetous  man  might  as 
 well  fay,  Where  can  be  the  harm  of  gold  or 
 Jiloer?    bat  yoa  muft  confider,    that   it    is  a 
 great  deal  of  harm  to  want  that  w'lfe^  and  rea-^ 
 JonMey    and  himhk  ftate  of  heart,    which  is 
 
 4  accord- 
 
to  a  T)e<voiit  and  Holy  'Life.  i  a  5 
 
 according  to  the  fpirit  of  religion,  and  which 
 no  one  can  have  in  the  manner  that  he  ought 
 to  have  it,  who  indulges  himlelf  either  in 
 the  vanity  of  dreis,  or  the  dejjre  of  riches. 
 
 There  is  therefore  nothing  right  in  the  ufe 
 of  ihaths^  or  in  the  ufe  of  any  thing  elfe  in 
 the  world,  but  Xhcplahwefs  '<inA  Jim  pit  city  o^ 
 the  Gofpel.  Every  other  ufe  of  things  (how- 
 ever polite  and  fafliionable  in  the  world)  di- 
 ftrafts  and  diibrders  the  heart,  and  is  incon- 
 fiftent  with  that  inward  ftate  of  piety,  that 
 purity  of  heart,  that  wifdom  of  mind  and 
 regularity  of  affection,  which  Chriftianity  re- 
 quireth. 
 
 If  you  would  be  a  good  Chriftian,  there  is 
 but  one  way,  you  mull  live  wholly  unto  God ; 
 and  if  you  would  live  wholly  unto  God,  you 
 muft  live  according  to  the  wifdom  that  comes 
 from  God ;  you  muft  act  according  to  right 
 judgments  of  the  nature  and  value  of  things; 
 you  muft  live  in  the  exercife  of  holy  and  hea- 
 venly affections,  and  ufe  all  the  gifts  of  God 
 to  his  praife  and  glory. 
 
 Some  perfons  perhaps,  who  admire  the  pu- 
 rity and  perfedion  of  this  life  of  Miranda^ 
 may  fay.  How  can  it  be  proposed  as  a  com- 
 mon example  ?  How  can  we  who  are  marry'd, 
 or  we  who  are  under  the  direction  of  our  pa- 
 rents, imitate  fuch  a  life? 
 
 It  is  anfwered,  Juft  as  you  may  imitate  the 
 life  of  our  bleffed  Saviour  and  his  apoftles. 
 The  circumftances  of  our  Saviour's  life,  and 
 the  ftate  and  condition  of  his  apoftles,    was 
 
 more 
 
126  A  Serious  Call 
 
 more  different  from  yours  than  that  of  Miran- 
 da's Is;  and  yet  their  life,  the  purity  and  per- 
 fection of  their  behaviour,  is  the  common  ex- 
 ample that  is  propoied  to  all  Chriftians, 
 
 It  is  their  Jpint  therefore,  their  piety,  their 
 love  of  God,  that  you  are  to  imitate,  and 
 not  the  particular  form  of  their  life. 
 
 Ad  under  God  as  they  did,  dired  your 
 common  adions  to  that  end  which  they  did, 
 glorify  your  proper  ftate  with  fuch  love  of 
 God,  fuch  charity  to  your  neighbour,  fuch 
 humility  and  felf-denial,  as  they  did^  and 
 then,  though  you  are  only  teaching  your  own 
 children,  and  St.  ^aul  is  converting  whole 
 nations,  yet  you  are  following  his  fteps,  and 
 afting  after  his  example. 
 
 Don't  think  therefore  that  you  can't,  or 
 need  not  be  like  Mirancky  becaufe  you  are  not 
 in  her  ftate  of  life^  for  as  the  fame  fpirit  and 
 temper  would  have  made  Miranda  a  faint, 
 though  fhe  had  been  forc'd  to  labour  for  a 
 maintenance,  fo  if  you  will  but  afpire  after 
 her  fpirit  and  temper,  every  form  and  condi^ 
 tton  of  life  will  furnifh  you  with  fufficicnt 
 means  of  employing  it. 
 
 Miranda  is  what  fhe  is,  becaule  fhe  does 
 every  thing  in  the  name,  and  with  regard  to 
 her  duty  to  God  ;  and  when  you  do  the  fame, 
 you  will  be  exadly  like  her,  though  you  are 
 never  fo  different  from  her  in  the  outward 
 ttat^  of  your  life. 
 
 You  are  marry'd,  you  fay;  therefore  you 
 have  not  your  thne  ^nd  fcrtifne  in  your  power 
 as  flic  has.  It 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      1 2  7 
 
 It  is  very  true ;  and  therefore  you  cannot 
 fpendy^  much  time,  nor/o  much  money,  in  the 
 manner  that  fhe  does. 
 
 But  now  Miranda's  perfection  does  not  con- 
 fift  in  this,  that  fhe  fpends  Jo  much  time,  or 
 fo  much  money  in  fuch  a  manner,  but  that 
 ihe  is  careful  to  make  the  beft  ule  of  ail  that 
 time,  and  all  that  fortune,  which  God  has 
 put  into  her  hands.  Do  you  therefore  make 
 the  beft  ufe  of  all  that  time  and  money  which 
 is  in  your  dilpofal,  and  then  you  are  like  Mi- 
 randa. 
 
 If  j[he  has  two  hundred  pounds  a  year,  and 
 you  have  only  two  mltes^  have  you  not  the 
 more  reafon  to  be  exceeding  exad  in  the  wi- 
 fcft  ule  of  it  ?  If  fhe  has  a  great  deal  of  time, 
 and  you  have  but  a  little,  ought  you  not  to 
 be  the  more  watchful  and  circumJpeSij  left  that 
 little  ihould  be  loft? 
 
 You  fay,  if  you  was  to  imitate  the  cleanly 
 flainnefs  and  cheapnefs  of  her  drefs,  you  ftiould 
 offend  your  husbands, 
 
 Firjt^  Be  very  lure  that  this  is  true^  before 
 you  make  it  an  excufe. 
 
 Secondly^  If  your  husbands  do  really  require 
 you  to  patch  your  faces,  to  expofe  your  breafts 
 naked  J  and  to  be  Jine  and  expenjive  in  all  your 
 apparel^  then  take  thefe  two  reiblutions : 
 
 Firji^  To  forbear  from  all  this,  as  loon  as 
 your  husbands  will  permit  you. 
 
 Secondly^  To  ufe  your  utmoft  endeavours  to 
 recommend  your  felves  to  their  affeftions  by 
 fuch  Jolid  virtues^  as  may  corred  the  vanity  of 
 
 their 
 
1  a  8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 their  minds,  and  tcacli  them  to  love  you  for 
 liich  qualities,  as  will  make  you  amiable  in 
 the  fight  of  God  and  his  holy  angels. 
 
 As  to  this  dodrine  conceming  the  plainnels 
 and  modcfty  of  drcfs,  it  may  perhaps  be 
 thou8;ht  by  Ibme  to  be  lufficiently  confuted  by 
 asking,  Whether  all  perlbns  are  to  be  cloathed 
 in  the  flime  inanncr  ? 
 
 Thcie  queftions  arc  generally  put  by  thofe, 
 who  had  rather  perplex  the  plaineft  truths, 
 than  be  obliged  to  follow  them. 
 
 Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  I  had  recommend- 
 ed an  univerlal  plain nefs  of  diet.  Is  it  not  a 
 thing  fufficiently  realbnable  to  be  umverfaUy 
 recommended  ?  But  would  it  thence  follow, 
 that  the  nohlcman  and  the  labourer  were  to  live 
 upon  the  fame  JoodP 
 
 Suppoie  I  had  preiTed  an  tintverfal  tempe^ 
 ranee ^  does  not  religion  enough  jallify  luch  a 
 doftrine  ?  But  would  it  therefore  follow,  that 
 all  people  were  to  drink  th^fame  llquorsy  and 
 in  the  lame  quantity  ? 
 
 In  like  manner,  though  plalnnefs  and  yS- 
 br'iety  of  dreis  is  recommended  to  all.,  yet  it 
 does  by  no  means  follow,  that  all  are  to  be 
 cloathed  in  \hefafne  manner. 
 
 Now  what  is  the  particular  rule  with  regard 
 to  temperance?  How  ftiall  particular  perlbns 
 that  ule  different  liquors ^  and  in  different  quan^ 
 tities^  prelcrve  tlieir  temperance  ? 
 
 Is  not  this  the  rule?  Are  they  not  to  guard 
 
 againft  indulgence^  to  make  their  ufe  of  liquors 
 
 a  fnatter  of  conjcience^  and  allow  of  m  rejrejl:?^ 
 
 ^  mentSy 
 
\ 
 
 to  a  De'voHt  and  Holy  Life.       129 
 
 menf'Sy  but  fuch  as  are  confiftcnt  with  the 
 JlriBefl  rules  of  Chriftian  Ibbriety? 
 
 Now  transfer  this  >-ule  to  the  matter  of  ap- 
 farelj  and  all  queitions  about  it  are  anfwer'd. 
 
 Let  every  one  but  guard  againll  the  vanity 
 of  drels,  let  them  but  make  their  tij'e  of 
 cloaths  a  matter  of  confctence^  let  them  but 
 defire  to  make  the  beji  tife  of  their  money, 
 and  then  every  one  has  a  rule  that  is  fufficient 
 to  dired:  them  in  every  ftate  of  life.  This 
 rule  will  no  more  let  the  great  be  va'in  in  their 
 drefs^  than  Intemperate  in  their  liquor s\  and  yet 
 w4Jl  leave  it  as  lawful  to  hzN^fome  difference  in 
 their  apparel,  as  to  have  lome  difference  in 
 their  drink. 
 
 But  now  w^ill  you  fay,  that  you  may  ufe 
 the  fneflj  rlcheji  wlnes^  when  and  as  you 
 pleale,  that  you  may  be  as  expenjivem  them  as 
 you  have  a  mind,  becaufe  different  liquors  are 
 allowed  ?  If  not,  how  can  it  be  laid,  that  you 
 may  ufe  cloaths  as  you  pleafe,  and  wear  the 
 rlcheji  things  you  can  get,  becaufe  the  hare 
 difference  of  cloaths  is  lawful? 
 
 For  as  the  lawfulnefs  of  different  liquors 
 leaves  no  roan^  nor  any  excufc  for  the  fmallejl 
 degrees  of  intemperance  in  drinking,  \b  the 
 lawfulnefs  of  different  apparel  leaves  no  room, 
 nor  any  excufe  for  the  fmalleft  degrees  of 
 vanity  in  drefs. 
 
 To  ask  what  is  vanity  in  drefs^  is  no  more 
 a  puzzling  queftion,  than  to  ask,  what  is 
 intemperance  in  drlnkhig.  And  though  Reli- 
 gion does  not  here  ftate  tht  particular  meajlire 
 
 K  for 
 
i2o  A  Serious  Ca  L  L 
 
 for  all  individuals,  yet  it  gives  fuch  general 
 rtdes^  as  are  a  fufficient  direction  in  every  ftate 
 of  life. 
 
 He  that  lets  Religion  teach  him,  that  the 
 end  of  drinking  is  only  lb  far  to  refrelh  our 
 JpirltSj  as  to  keep  us  in  good  healthy  and  make 
 Jhul  and  body  fitter  for  all  the  offices  of  a  holy 
 and  pious  life,  and  that  he  is  to  delire  to  glo- 
 rify God  by  a  right  ufe  of  this  liberty^  will 
 always  know  what  Intemperance  is,  in  his 
 particular  ftate. 
 
 So  he  that  lets  Religion  teach  him,  that 
 the  end  of  cloathing  is  only  to  hide  owx  fiame 
 and  nakednefs^  and  to  fecure  our  bodies  from 
 the  injuries  of  weather^  and  that  he  is  to  de- 
 lire  to  glorify  God  by  2ifober  and  wife  ufe  of 
 this  necefftty^  will  always  know  what  vanity  of 
 drcfs  is,  in  his  particular  ftate. 
 
 And  he  that  thinks  it  a  needlefs  nicety^  to 
 talk  of  the  religious  ufe  of  apparel,  has  as 
 much  reafon  to  think  it  a  needlefs  nicety,  to 
 talk  of  the  religious  ufe  of  liquors.  For 
 luxury  and  indulgence  in  drefs^  is  as  great  an 
 abufe^  as  luxury  and  indulgence  in  eating  and 
 drinking.  And  there  is  no  avoiding  either  of 
 them,  but  by  making  religion  the  /IrlB^  mea- 
 fure  of  our  allowance  in  both  cafes.  And 
 there  is  nothing  in  Religion  to  excite  a  man 
 to  this  pious  exaBnefs  in  one  cafe,  but  what  is 
 as  good  a  motive  to  the  fame  cxaftneis  in 
 *the  other. 
 
 Farther,  as  all  things  that  are  lawful^  are 
 not  therefore  expedient^  fo  there  are  fome  things 
 
 lawful 
 
to  a  Devout  a?id  Holy  Life.      131 
 
 lawful  in  the  ufe  of  liquors  and  apparel^ 
 which  by  abftaining  from  them  for  pious 
 ends^  may  be  made  means  of  great  perfe- 
 ftion. 
 
 Thus  for  inftancc,  if  a  man  fliould  deny 
 himfelf  fuch  ufe  of  liquors  as  is  lawful^  if 
 he  fhould  refrain  from  fuch  ex  pence  in  his 
 drink  as  might  be  allow'd  without  fin;  if  he 
 Ihould  do  this,  not  only  fortheiake  of  a  more 
 pious  J  elf-den  I  it  I  J  but  that  he  might  be  able 
 to  relieve  and  refrefh  the  helplefs  poor,  and 
 fick. 
 
 If  another  fhould  abftain  from  the  ufe  of 
 that  which  is  lawful  in  drefs^  if  he  Ihould  be 
 more  frugal  and  mean  in  his  habit,  than  the 
 neceffities  of  religion  ahfolutely  require  ;  if  he 
 ihould  do  this  not  only  as  a  means  of  a  het-^ 
 ttr  humility^  but  that  he  may  be  more  able  to 
 cloath  other  People ;  thefe  perlbns  might  be 
 faid  to  do  that  which  was  highly  fuitable  to 
 the  true  fpirit^  though  not  ahfjlutely  requir'd 
 by  the  letter  oi  the  law  of  Chrift. 
 
 For  if  thole  who  give  a  cup  of  cold  water  to 
 ^  d'lfciple  of  Chrift^  fall  not  loje  their  rewardy 
 how  dear  muft  they  be  to  Chrift,  w^ho  often 
 give  themfelves  water,  that  they  may  be  able 
 to  give  wine  to  the  fick  and  languifhing 
 rnembers  of  Chrift's  body! 
 
 But  to  return.  All  that  has  been  here  faid 
 to  marry' d  women,  may  ferve  for  the  fame  in- 
 ftrudion  to  fuch  as  are  ftill  under  the  di-» 
 redion  of  their  Barents. 
 
 K  2  Now 
 
177  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Now  thout>;h  the  obedience  which  is  due  to 
 parents,  does  not  oblige  them  to  carry  their 
 virtues  no  higher  than  their  parents  require 
 them  •  yet  their  obedience  requires  them  to 
 fubmit  to  their  direction  in  all  things  not 
 contrary  to  the  laws  of  God. 
 
 If  therefore,  your  parents  require  you  to 
 live  more  in  the  fajhion  and  converfation  of 
 the  world,  or  to  be  more  ex  pen  five  in  your 
 drcfs  and  perfon,  or  to  difpole  of  your  time 
 otherwife  than  fuits  with  your  defires  after 
 greater  ferjeBwn^  you  muft  fubmit,  and  bear 
 it  as  your  crofs^  till  you  are  at  liberty  to  follow 
 the  higher  counlels  of  Chrift,  and  have  it  in 
 your  power  to  chufe  the  beft  ways  of  railing 
 your  virtue  to  its  greateft  height. 
 
 Now  although  whilft  you  are  in  this  ftate, 
 you  may  be  obliged  to  forego  fome  means  of 
 improving  your  virtue,  yet  there  are  fome 
 others  to  be  found  in  it,  that  are  not  to  be 
 had  in  a  life  of  more  liberty. 
 
 For  if  in  thisftate,  where  obedience  h  fo  great 
 a  virtue,  you  comply  in  all  things  lawful,  out 
 of  a  flotis^  tender  feni'e  of  duty,  then  thofe 
 things  which  you  thus  perform,  are  inftead 
 of  being  hindrances*  of  your  virtue,  turn'd  into 
 means  of  improving  it. 
 
 What  you  lofe  by  being  reftrain'd  from  fuch 
 things,  as  you  w^ould  chufe  to  obferve,  you 
 gain  by  that  excellent  virtue  of  obedience, 
 in  humbly  complying  againft  your  tem- 
 per. 
 
 Now 
 
to  a  T^evoitt  and  Holy  Life.      133 
 
 Now  what  is  here  granted,  is  only  in  things 
 lawful'^  and  therefore  the  diverfion  of  our 
 Englijh  ftage  is  here  excepted ;  being  elfe- 
 where  prov'd,  as  I  think,  to  be  abjolutely 
 iinhiivful. 
 
 Thus  much  to  fliew,  how  perfbns  under 
 the  direftion  of  others,  may  imitate  the  wife 
 and  pious  h*fe  of  Miranda, 
 
 But  as  for  thole  who  are  altogether  in  their 
 own  hands,  if  the  Hbertyof  their  ftate  makes 
 them  covet  the  be  ft  gifts  ^  if  it  carries  them  to 
 chufe  the  mofl  excellent  ways,  if  they  having 
 all  in  their  own  power,  fliould  turn  the  whole 
 form  of  their  life  into  a  regular  exercife  of 
 the  higheft  virtues,  happy  are  they  who  have 
 io  learned  Chrift ! 
 
 All  perfons  cannot  receive  this  faying. 
 They  that  are  able  to  receive  it,  let  them  re- 
 ceive it,  and  blels  that  Spirit  of  God  which 
 has  put   Ihch  good  motions  into  their  hearts. 
 
 God  may  be  lerv'd,  and  glorified  in  every 
 ftate  of  life.  But  as  there  are  fome  Itates  of 
 life  more  defirable  than  others,  that  more  pu- 
 rify our  natures,  that  more  improve  our  vir- 
 tues, and  dedicate  us  unto  God  in  a  higher 
 manner,  lb  thole  who  are  at  liberty  to  chufe 
 for  themfelves,  feem  to  be  called  by  God  to 
 be  more  eminently  devoted  to  his  fervice. 
 
 Ever  fince  the  beginning  of  Chriftianity, 
 there  hath  been  two  orders^  or  ranks  of  Peo- 
 ple amongft  good  Chriftians. 
 
 K   3  The 
 
I  2  A,  A  Serious  Call 
 
 The  one  that  fear'd  and  ferv'd  God  in 
 the  common  offices  and  bufinefs  of  a  leculaij 
 worldly  life. 
 
 The  other  renouncing  the  common  bufinefi, 
 jind  common  enjoyments  of  life,  as  riches^ 
 marriage^  homurs^  and  fleafiires^  devoted  them- 
 felves  to  voluntary  poverty^  v'trglnlty^  devotion y, 
 and  retirement  J  that  by  this  means  they  might 
 live  wholly  unto  God  in  the  daily  exercile  of 
 a  divine  and  heavenly  life. 
 
 This  tcftimony  I  have  from  the  fiimous  ec-^ 
 clefiaftical  hiftorian,  EuJlbiiiSy  wholiv'd  at  the 
 time  of  the  jirji  general  council ^  when  the 
 faith  of  our  nicene  Creed  was  eftablifti'd,  when 
 the  Church  was  in  its  greateft  glory  and  parity ^ 
 wdien  its  Bifhops  were  fo  many  holy  fathers  y 
 and  eminent y^//;;^.f. 
 
 "  Therefore  faith  he,  there  hath  been  infti- 
 "  tuted  in  the  Church  of  Chrift,  tzvo  waysy 
 ^^  or  manners  of  living.  The  one  rais'd  above 
 ^'  the  ordinary  ftate  of  nature,  and  common 
 ^^  ways  of  living,  rejefts  wedlocky  poJfeffiGnSy 
 ^'  3.nd  worldly  goods^  and  being  w^holly  fepa- 
 '^  rate  and  removed  from  the  ordinary  con- 
 ^'  verfation  of  common  life,  is  appropriated 
 "  and   devoted    folely    to    the   worfhip   and 
 
 fcrvice  of  God,  through  an  exceeding  degree 
 
 of  heavenly  love. 
 
 ^^  They  who  are  of  this  order  of    people, 
 
 feem  dead  to  the  life  of  this  world,  and  ha- 
 ^^  ving  their  bodies  only  upon  earthy  are  in 
 
 their  ?7iindsy  and  contemplations  dwelliflg  in 
 
 heaven.     From  w^hencC;,  like  fo  many  hea- 
 
 *^  venly 
 
 u 
 
 iC 
 
 u 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        155 
 
 ^^  venly   inhabitants  they  look   down   upon 
 *-'  human  life,  making  tntercejftons  and  oblatl- 
 "  o?js  to  Almighty  God  for  the  whole  race  of 
 ^'  mankind.     And  this  not  with  the  blood  of 
 "  beafts,  or  the  fat,  or  Imoak,  and  burning 
 *'  of  hod'ies^  but  with  the  higheft  exercifes  of 
 *'  true  piety,  with  cleans'd  and  purified  hearts, 
 "  and  with  an  whole  form  of  life  ftridly  de- 
 "  voted  to  virtue.     Thefe  are  their  facrifices, 
 ''  which  they  continually  offering  unto  God, 
 '^  implore  his  mercy  and  favour  for  themfelves, 
 ''  and  their  fellow  creatures. 
 
 "  Chriftianity  receives   this  as  the  perfeft 
 "  manner  of  life. 
 
 "  The  other  is  of  a  lowxr  form,  and  fuiting 
 ^'  it  felf  more  to  the  condition  of  human  na- 
 ture, admits  of  chajte  wedlock^  the  care  of 
 children  and  family,  of  trade  and  bufinefs, 
 and  goes  through  all  the  employments  of 
 life  under  a  fenfe  of  piety,  and  fear  of 
 God. 
 
 ^'  Now  they  who  have  chofen  thi^  manner 
 of  life,  have  their  let  times  for  retirement 
 and  jpritiial  exercifes^  and  particular  days 
 ^'  are  let  apart  for  their  hearing     ^^r^y^  jy^^ 
 "  and  learning  the  word  of  God.     Eva?i.  1. 1.  c. 
 ^^  And  this   order  of  people    are      ^' 
 "  confider'd,  asin  the/^r^;2jy?j/-^of  piety. 
 Thus  this  learned  hiftorian. 
 If  therefore  perlbns  of  either  fex,    mov'd 
 with  the  life  of  Miranda^  and  defiroas  of  pcr- 
 fedion,  fhould  unite    themlclves    into    ''^Yeiry 
 Ibcietics,  profeffing  voluntary pvertyy  vlr^.ho-' 
 
 K  4  ly 
 
 cc 
 
j^6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 /)',  ret'iranent  and  devotion^  living  upon  hare 
 iieccjfaues^  that  fome  might  be  relieved  by 
 their  chanties^  and  all  be  bleffed  with  their 
 prayers,  and  benefited  by  their  examfle  :  Or 
 if  for  want  of  this,  they  fliould  praftife  the 
 fame  manner  of  life,  in  as  high  a  degree  as 
 they  could  by  themfelves ;  fuch  perlbns  would 
 be  fo  far  from  being  chargeable  wirh  anyy^^^r- 
 (I'lt'ion^  or  hTmd  devoUon^  that  they  might  be 
 juflly  laid  to  reftore  that  pety^  which  was  the 
 boafl  and  glory  of  the  Church,  when  its  grea-* 
 tz^  faints  were  alive. 
 
 Now  as  this  learned  hlflortan  obferves,  that 
 it  was  an  exceeding  great  degree  of  heavenly 
 love  J  that  carried  theie  perfons,  fo  much  above 
 the  common  ways  of  life,  to  fuch  an  eminent 
 ftate  of  holineis ;  fo  it  is  not  to  be  wonder'd  at, 
 that  the  Religion  of  Jetiis  Chrift,  fhould  fill 
 the  hearts  of  many  Chriftians  w^ith  this  high 
 degree  of  love. 
 
 For  a  Religion  that  opens  fuch  a  fcene  of 
 Glory,  that  difcovers  things  fo  infinitely  above 
 all  the  world,  that  lb  triumphs  over  death, 
 that  afiures  us  of  liich  manfions  of  blifs,  where 
 we  fliall  fo  foon  be  as  the  Jngels  of  God  in 
 Heaven ;  w^hat  wonder  is  it,  if  fuch  a  Reli- 
 gion, fuch  truths  and  expedations,  ftiould  in 
 fome  holy  fouls,  deftroy  all  earthly  defires, 
 and  make  the  ardent  love  of  heavenly  things, 
 be  the  one  continual  paffion  of  their  hearts  ? 
 
 If  the  Religion  of  Chriftians  is  founded  up- 
 
 V-^v  ^he  infinite  hurniliatmi^  the  cruel  mochings 
 
 ^^fcoiirgtngs^  the  prodigious  fnfferings^  the 
 
to  a  Ve^oHt  and  Holy  Life.       157 
 
 foor^  ferfecated  life,  and  painful  death  of  a 
 crucified  Son  of  God;  what  wonder  is  it,  if 
 m?iny  humble  adorers  of  this  profound  myllery, 
 many  affeB'tonate  lovers  of  a  crucified  Lord, 
 Ihould  renounce  their  fliare  of  worldly  plea- 
 fures,  and  give  themlelves  up  to  a  continual 
 couiie  of  mortification  and  lelf-denial :  That 
 thus  fuffering  with  Chrift  here,  they  may  reign 
 with  him  hereafter? 
 
 If  truth  itfelf  hath  afTur'dus,  that  there  is 
 hat  one  thhig  needful^  what  wonder  is  it,  that 
 there  ftiould  be  Ibme  amongft  Chriftians  ^o 
 full  of  faithjas  to  believe  this  in  the  higheft  fenfe 
 of  the  words,  and  to  defire  fuch  a  leparation 
 from  the  world,  that  their  care  and  attention  to 
 the  one  thing  needful  may  not  be  interrup- 
 ted? 
 
 If  our  bleffed  Lord  hath  faid.  If  thou  wilt 
 he  perfeB^  go  and  fell  that  thou  hafl^  and  give  to 
 the  foor^  and  thou  fh alt  have  treajure  in  heaven : 
 And  come  and  follow  me :  What  wonder  is  it, 
 that  there  Ihould  be  amongft  Chriftians,  fome 
 fuch  zealous  followers  of  Chrift,  {o  intent  up- 
 on heavenly  treafure,  fo  defirous  of  perfection, 
 that  they  Ihould  renounce  the  enjoyment  of 
 their  eftates,  chufe  a  voluntary  poverty,  and 
 relieve  all  the  poor  that  they  are  able  ? 
 
 If  the  chofen  vejpl^  St.  ^aul^  hath  faid,  He 
 that  is  unmarry'd  careth  for  the  things  that  he^ 
 long  to  the  Lord^  how  he  may  pleafc  the  Lord : 
 And  that  there  is  this  difference  aljo  hetween  a 
 wife  and  a  virgin ;  the  unmarry*d  woman  careth 
 for  the  things  of  the  Lordy  that  fhe  may  be  ho-^ 
 
 ly 
 
I  ;8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 ly  both  in  hody  and  Spirit  :  What  wonder  is  it, 
 if  the  purity  and  perfection  of  the  virgin  ftate, 
 hath  been  the  praife  and  glory  of  the  Church 
 in  its  firft  and  pureft  ages? 
 
 That  there  hath  always  been  fome  ^o  dejp- 
 roas  of  pleafing  God,  fo  zealous  after  every 
 degree  of  purity  and  perfection,  ib  glad  of 
 every  means  of  improving  their  virtue,  that 
 they  have  renounc'd  the  comforts  and  enjoy- 
 ments of  wedlock,  to  trim  their  hmps^  to  pu- 
 rify their  fouls,  and  wait  upon  God  in  a  ftatc 
 of  perpetual  virginity? 
 
 And  if  now  in  thele  our  days,  we  want  ex- 
 amples of  thefe y?i;^r^/  degrees  of  perfedion, 
 if  neither  Clergy ^  nor  laity  are  enough  of  this 
 fpirit ;  if  we  are  i^o  far  departed  from  it,  that 
 a  man  feems,  like  St.  ^atd  at  Athens^  ^fetter 
 forth  of  ftrange  doBrines^  when  he  recommends 
 f elf-denial^  renunciation  of  the  world,  regular 
 devotion^  retirement^  virginity^  and  voluntary 
 fffverty^  'tis  becaufe  we  are  fallen  into  an  age, 
 v/here  the  love  not  only  of  many^  but  of  moft, 
 is  zvaxed  cold. 
 
 I  have  made  this  little  appeal  to  Jntiquityy 
 and  quoted  thele  few  paffages  of  Scripture, 
 to  fupport  fome  uncommon  praftices  in  the 
 life  of  Miranda  ;  and  tofliew,  that  her  higheft 
 rules  of  holy  living,  her  devotion^  felf  denial ^ 
 renunciation  of  the  world,  her  charity^  virgt" 
 filty^  and  voluntary  poverty.,  are  founded  in  the 
 J'uhlimeft  counfcls  of  Chrift  and  his  Apoftles, 
 fuitabie  to  the  high  expeBatlons  of  another 
 life,  proper  inftances  of  4  heavenly  lovcy  and 
 
 al! 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       i  39 
 
 all  followed  by  the  greatefl  faints  of  the  heft 
 and  purcft  ages  of  the  Church. 
 
 He  that  hath  ears  to  hear^  let  htm  hear. 
 
 CHAP.     X. 
 
 Shewing  how  all  orders  and  ranks  of  men  and  wo~ 
 me n  of  all  ages y  are  obliged  to  devote  the mj elves 
 unto  God. 
 
 I  Have  in  the  foregoing  Chapters  gone 
 through  the  feveral  great  inftances  of  Chri- 
 ilian  devotion,  and  fhewn  that  all  the  parts  of 
 our  common  life,  our  employments ^  our  talents 
 and  gifts  oi  fortune ^  are  all  to  be  made  holy 
 and  acceptable  unto  God,  by  a  wife  and  reli- 
 gious ule  of  every  thing,  and  by  directing 
 our  actions  and  defigns  to  fuch  ends,  as  are 
 fui  table  to  the  honour  and  glory  of  God. 
 
 I  Ihall  now  Ihevv,  that  this  regularity  of 
 devotion,  this  holinefs  of  common  life,  this 
 religious  ufe  of  every  thing  that  we  have,  is 
 a  devotion  that  is  the  duty  of  all  orders  of 
 Chrifti an  people. 
 
 Fulvhis  has  had  a  learned  education,  and  ta- 
 ken his  degrees  in  the  Unlverjityy  he  came 
 from  thence,  that  he  might  be  free  from  any 
 rules  of  life.  He  takes  no  employment  upon 
 him,  nor  enters  into  any  bufineis,  becaufe  he 
 thinks  that   every   employment  or  bufineis, 
 
 calls 
 
lAo  A  Serious  Call 
 
 calls  people  to  the  careful  performance  and 
 juft  dilcharge  of  its  feveral  duties.  When  he 
 is  grave,  he  will  tell  you  that  he  did  not  enter 
 into  holy  orders,  becaule  he  looks  upon  it  to 
 be  a  ftatc,  that  requires  great  holinels  of  life, 
 and  that  it  does  not  luit  his  temper  to  be  lb 
 i^ood.  He  will  tell  you  that  he  never  intends 
 to  marry,  becaufe  he  cannot  oblige  himfelf  to 
 that  regularity  of  life,  and  good  behaviour, 
 which  he  takes  to  be  the  duty  of  thole  that 
 are  at  the  head  of  a  family.  He  refufed  to 
 be  Godfather  to  his  nephew,  becaufe  he  will 
 have  no  truft  of  any  kind  to  aniwer  for. 
 
 Fidvlus  thinks  that  he  is  confcientious  in 
 this  conduft,  and  is  therefore  content  with 
 the  moft  idle^  tmpertlneyit  and  carelefs  life. 
 
 He  has  no  Religion,  no  Devotion,  no  pre- 
 tences to  Piety.  He  lives  by  no  rules,  and 
 thinks  all  is  very  well,  becaufe  he  is  neither  a 
 frteji^  nor  a  jather^  nor  a  guardtcm^  nor  has 
 any  e?nployment  ox  family  to  look  after. 
 
 But  Fulvmsj  you  are  a  rational  creature,  and 
 as  fuch,  are  as  much  obliged  to  live  according 
 to  reafou  and  order ^  as  z,priefi  is  obliged  to  at- 
 tend at  the  altar ^  or  a  guardian  to  be  faithful 
 to  his  truft ;  if  you  live  contrary  to  reafon^ 
 you  don't  commit  a  fmall  crime,  you  don't 
 break  a  fmall  truft;  biit  you  break  the  law  of 
 your  nature,  you  rebel  againft  God  who  gave 
 you  that  nature,  and  put  your  felf  amongft 
 thofe  whom  the  God  of  reafon  and  order  w^ill 
 punilh  as  apojiates  and  deferters. 
 
 Though 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      14,1 
 
 Though  you  have  no  employment,  yet  as 
 you  are  baptized  into  the  prolinion  of  Chrift's 
 rehgion,  you  are  as  much  obliged  to  live  ac- 
 cording to  the  holinels  of  the  chriftian  fpirit, 
 and  perform  all  the  promiles  made  at  your 
 baptifm,  as  any  man  is  oblig'd  to  be  honeft 
 and  faithful  in  his  calling.  If  you  abufe  this 
 great  calling,  you  are  not  falle  in  a  fmall  mat- 
 ter ,  but  you  abufe  the^  precious  blood  of 
 Chrift;  you  crucify  the  Son  of  God  afrefh  ; 
 you  negled  the  higheft  inftances  of  divine 
 goodnefs ;  you  dilgrace  the  church  of  God ; 
 you  blemiih  the  body  of  Chrift ;  you  abufe 
 the  means  of  Grace ,  and  the  promifes  of 
 Glory ;  and  it  will  be  more  tolerable  for  Tyre 
 and  Stdoriy  at  the  day  of  judgment^  than  for 
 you. 
 
 It  13  therefore  great  folly,  for  any  one  to 
 think  himfelf  at  liberty  to  live  as  he  plcafes, 
 becaufe  he  is  not  in  fuch  a  ftate  of  life  as 
 Ibme  others  are :  For  if  there  is  any  thing 
 dreadful  in  the  abufe  of  any  triift ;  if  there 
 is  any  thing  to  be  feared  for  the  negled  of 
 any  calling,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  fear'd 
 than  the  wrong  ufe  of  our  reafun^  nor  any 
 thing  more  to  be  dreaded,  than  the  negled  of 
 our  chriftian  calling ;  which  is  not  to  ferve  the 
 little  uies  of  a  Ihort  life,  but  to  redeem  ibuls 
 unto  God,  to  fill  Heaven  with  faints,  and  fi- 
 nilh  a  kindom  of  eternal  glory  unto  God. 
 
 No  man    therefore,    muft    think    himfelf 
 excufed  from  the  exaBnefs  of  piety  and  mora- 
 lity, becaufe  he  has  chofen  to  be  idle  and  ///- 
 I  dependent 
 
JA2  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 ■depejidctit  in  the  world ;  for  the  necefftUes  of  a 
 reafonable  and  holy  life,  are  not  founded  in 
 the  feveral  conditions  and  employments  of 
 this  life,  but  in  the  immutable  nature  of 
 God,  and  the  nature  of  man.  A  man  is  not 
 to  be  reafonable  and  holy,  becaufe  he  is  a 
 fr'iefl^  or  -^i  father  ol  a  family;  but  he  is  to 
 be  a  pious  prieft,  and  a  good  father ,  becaufe 
 piety  and  goodnefs  are  the  laws  of  human 
 nature.  Could  any  man  pleafe  God,  without 
 living  according  to  reajon  and  order  ^  there 
 •would  be  nothing  difpleafing  to  God  in  an  idle 
 prielt,  or  a  reprobate  father.  He  therefore, 
 that  abulcs  his  reajbn^  is  like  him  that  abufes 
 the  prtefthood'^  and  he  that  negleds  the  holi- 
 nefs  of  the  chrtftian  Itfe^  is  as  the  man  that 
 difregards  the  moll  important  trufi. 
 
 If  a  man  was  to  chufe  to  put  out  his  eyesy 
 rather  than  enjoy  the  light ,  and  fee  the 
 works  of  God,  if  he  Ihould  voluntarily  kill 
 himlelf,  by  refiifing  to  eat  and  drink,  every 
 one  would  owx,  that  fuch  a  one  w^as  a  rebel 
 againlt  God,  that  juftly  deferved  his  higheft 
 indignation.  You  would  not  fay,  that  this 
 was  only  fmful  in  a  priejl^  or  a  majler  of  a 
 llimily,  but  in  every  man  as  fuch. 
 
 Novv  wherein  does  the  finfulnefs  of  this  be- 
 haviour confift  ?  Does  it  not  confift  in  this, 
 that  he  abufes  his  nature^  and  refufes  to  ad  that 
 part  for  which  God  had  created  him?  But  if 
 this  be  true,  then  all  perfons  that  abufe  their 
 reafon^  that  aft  a  different  part  from  that  for 
 which  God  created  them,  are  like  this  man, 
 
 rebels 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       143 
 
 rebels  againft  God,  and  on  the  lame  account 
 fubjed  to  his  wrath. 
 
 Let  us  fuppofe  that  this  man,  inftcad  of 
 putting  out  his  eyes,  had  only  employed  them 
 in  looking  at  ridiculous  things^  or  Ihut  them 
 up  in  Jleep  ;  that  inftead  o^  fiay^'ing  himiclf 
 to  death,  by  not  eating  at  all,  he  Ihould  turn 
 evxry  meal  into  a  feafl^  and  eat  and  drink 
 like  ^nEp'icure\  could  he  be  laid  to  have  liv'd 
 more  to  the  glory  of  God  ?  could  he  any 
 more  be  laid  to  aft  the  part  for  which  God 
 had  created  him,  than  if  he  had  put  out  his 
 eyes,  and  ftarvcd  himfelf  to  death  ? 
 
 Now  do  but  fuppofe  a  man  acling  unrea- 
 Ibnably  ;  do  but  fuppofe  him  extinguilhing 
 his  reafon^  inftcad  of  putting  out  his  eyes  ;  and 
 living  in  a  courfe  of  folly  and  impertinence, 
 inftead  of  ftarving  himfelf  to  death ;  and  then 
 you  have  found  out  as  great  a  rebel  againft  God. 
 For  he  that  puts  out  his  eyes,  or  murders 
 himfelf,  has  only  this  guilt,  that  he  abufes 
 the  powers  that  God  has  given  him ;  that  he 
 refufes  to  ad  that  part  for  which  he  was  crea- 
 ted, and  puts  himfelf  into  a  ftate  that  is  con- 
 trary to  the  divine  v/ill.  And  furely  this  is 
 the  guilt  of  every  one  that  lives  an  unreafon- 
 able,  unholy,  and  foolifli  life. 
 
 As  therefore,  no  particular  ftate  ,  or  pri- 
 vate life,  is  an  excufe  for  the  abuie  of  our 
 hodies^  or  felj-murder^  lb  no  particular  ftate, 
 or  private  life,  is  an  excufe  for  the  abufe  of  our 
 reafon,  or  the  negleft  of  the  holinefs  of  the 
 chriftian  religion.     For  furely  it  is  as  much 
 
 the 
 
144  -^  Serious  C  A  t  L 
 
 the  will  of  God  that  we  fhould  make  the  beft 
 life  of  our  rational  faculties,  that  we  fliould 
 conform  to  the  purity  and  holineis  of  chriftia- 
 nity,  as  it  is  the  will  of  God,  that  we  fhould 
 ufe  our  eyes,  and  eat  and  drink  for  the  pre- 
 fervation  of  our  lives. 
 
 'Till  therefore,  a  man  can  fliew,  that  he 
 fincerely  endeavours  to  live  according  to  the 
 will  of  God,  to  be  that  which  God  requires 
 him  to  be  ^  "till  he  can  ftiew,  that  he  is  ftriving 
 to  live  according  to  the  holinefs  of  the  chri- 
 ftian  religion  ^  whofoever  he  be,  or  wherefo- 
 ever  he  be ,  he  has  all  that  to  anfwer  for ,  • 
 that  they  have ,  who  refufe  to  live,  who 
 abule  the  greateft  trufts,  and  negled  the  high- 
 eft  calling  in  the  world. 
 
 Every  body  acknowledges,  that  all  orders 
 of  men  are  to  be  equally  and  exaftly  honefi 
 and  faithful ;  there  is  no  exception  to  be 
 made  in  thefe  duties^  for  any  private  or  par- 
 ticular ftate  of  life.  Now  if  we  would  but 
 attend  to  the  realbn  and  nature  of  things ;  if 
 we  would  but  confidcr  the  nature  of  God, 
 and  the  nature  of  man,  we  Ihould  find  the 
 fame  neceflity  for  every  other  right  ufe  of  our 
 reafon,  for  every  grace,  or  religious  temper  of 
 the  chriftian  life:  We  fhould  find  it  as  ablurd 
 to  fuppoie,  that  one  man  muft  be  exad  in 
 piety,  and  another  need  not,  as  to  fuppoie 
 that  one  man  muft  be  exaft  in  honefty^  but 
 another  need  not.  For  chriftian  humility ^  fo- 
 briety^  devotion^  and  piety ^  are  as  great  and 
 neceffary  parts  of  a  reafonable  life,  as  ]uftice 
 and  hofhjiy.  And 
 
to  a  Devout  dv^  Holy  Life.      145 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand^  f^ndej  fejifuaVity^ 
 and  covetoujhefsy  arc  as  great  dilbrdcrs  of  the 
 foul,  are  as  high  an  abule  of  our  rcalbn,  and 
 as  contrary  to  God,  as  cheating  and  difho^ 
 aejly. 
 
 Theft  and  dijljonefly  fecm  indeed,  to  vulgar 
 eyes,  to  be  greater  fins,  becaule  they  arc 
 fo  hurtful  to  civil  fociety,  and  are  fo  feverely 
 punifh'd  by  human  laws. 
 
 But  if  we  confider  mankind  in  a  higher 
 view,  as  God's  order  or  Jbdety  of  rational  be-* 
 ings,  that  are  to  glorify  him  by  the  right  ufe 
 of  their  realbn,  and  by  ading  conformably  to 
 the  order  of  their  nature,  we  fhall  find,  that 
 every  temper  that  is  equally  contrary  to  rea- 
 fon  and  order ,  that  oppofes  God's  ends  and 
 defigns,  and  diforders  the  beauty  and  glory  of 
 the  rational  world,  is  equally  finful  in  man^ 
 and  equally  odious  to  God.  This  would  fhe>v 
 lis,  that  the  fin  oi  fenfaality  is  like  the  fin  of 
 difJjoneJly^  and  renders  us  as  great  objeds  of 
 the  divine  difpleafure. 
 
 Again,  if  we  confider  mankind  in  a  farthei^ 
 View,  as  a  redeemed  order  of  fallen  fptrits^ 
 that  are  baptiz'd  into  a  fellowlliip  with  the 
 Son  of  God;  to  be  temples  of  the  holy 
 Ghoft;  to  live  according  to  his  holy  infpira- 
 tions ;  to  offer  to  God  the  reafonable  facrifice 
 of  an  humble,  pious,  and  thankful  life  •  to 
 purify  themfelves  from  the  diforders  of  their 
 fall;  to  make  a  right  ufe  of  the  means  of 
 grace,  in  order  to  be  fons  of  eternal  glory :  If 
 we  look  at  mankind  in  this  true  light,  then 
 
14^ 
 
 A  Serious  C  A  L  t 
 
 we  fliall  find,  that  all  tempers  that  are  con- 
 trary to  this  holy  fociety,  that  are  abufes  of 
 this  infinite  mercy  ;  all  actions  that  make  us 
 unlike  to  Chrift,  that  difgrace  his  body,  that 
 abufe  the  means  of  grace ,  and  oppofe  our 
 hopes  of  glory,  have  every  thing  in  them, 
 that  can  make  us  for  ever  odious  unto  God. 
 So  that  though  pride  ^nd  Jenjualityy  and  other 
 vices  of  the  like  kind,  do  not  hurt  civil  fo- 
 ciety,  as  cheating  and  dljhonejiy  do ;  yet  they 
 hurt  that  fociety ,  and  oppofe  thofe  ends , 
 which  are  greater  and  more  glorious  in  the 
 eyes  of  God,  than  all  the  focieties  that  relate 
 to  this  world. 
 
 Nothing  therefore,  can  be  more  falfe,  than 
 to  imagine ,  that  becaufe  we  are  private 
 perfons,  that  have  taken  upon  us  no  charge 
 or  employment  of  life,  that  therefore  we  may 
 live  more  at  large,  indulge  our  appetites,  and 
 be  lefs  careful  of  the  duties  of  piety  and  holi- 
 nefs ;  for  it  is  as  good  an  excufe  for  cheating 
 and  dijhojiejiy.  Becaufe  he  that  abufes  his 
 reafon^  that  indulges  himfelf  in  liiji  and  fen^ 
 faal'ity^  and  negletts  to  act  the  wife  and  rea- 
 fonable  part  of  a  true  chriftian,  has  every 
 thing  in  his  life  to  render  him  hateful  to  God, 
 that  is  to  be  found  in  cheating  and  dljJoO'-* 
 tiejly. 
 
 If  therefore,  you  rather  chufe  to  be  an  idle 
 Epicure^  than  to  be  unfaithful'^  if  you  rather 
 chufe  to  live  in  liift  and  fenfuality ,  than 
 to  injure  your  neighbour  in  his  goods,  you 
 baye  made  no  better  a  proyifion  for  the  favour 
 
 of 
 
to  a  Dezfont  and  Holy  Life.       1^7 
 
 of  God,  than  he  that  rather  chufes  to  rob  a 
 houfe^  than  to  rob  a  church. 
 
 For  the  abufing  of  our  own  nature,  is  as5 
 great  a  difobedience  againft  God,  as  the  inju-» 
 ring  our  neighbour;  and  he  that  wants  piety 
 towards  God,  has  done  as  much  to  damn 
 himfelf ,  as  he  that  wants  honcfty  towards 
 men.  Every  argument  therefore,  that  proves 
 it  neceflary  for  all  men,  in  all  ftations  of  life^ 
 to  be  truly  honeft,  proves  it  equally  necelfary 
 for  all  men,  in  all  ftations  of  life,  to  be  truly 
 holy  and  pious,  and  do  all  things  in  fuch  a 
 manner,  as  is  fuitable  to  the  glory  of  God, 
 
 Again,  another  argument  to  prove  that  all 
 orders  of  men  are  obliged  to  be  thus  holy  and 
 devout  in  the  common  courfe  of  their  lives^ 
 in  the  ufc  of  every  thing  that  they  enjoy^ 
 may  be  taken  from  our  obligation  to  prayer* 
 
 It  is  granted,  theit  prayer  is  a  duty  that  be-* 
 longs  to  all  ftates  and  conditions  of  men; 
 now  if  we  enquire  into  the  reafbn  of  this^, 
 why  no  ftate  of  life  is  to  be  excufed  from 
 prayer,  we  fhall  find  it  as  good  a  reafon,  v.hy 
 every  ftate  of  life  is  to  be  made  a  ftate  of 
 piety  and  holinefs  in  all  its  parts. 
 
 For  the  realbn  why  we  are  to  pray  unto 
 God ,  and  praife  him  with  Hymns ,  and 
 Pfalms  of  Thankfgiving,  is  this,  becaufe 
 we  are  to  live  wholly  unto  God,  and  glorify 
 him  all  pofTible  ways.  It  fs  not  becaufe  the 
 praifes  of  zvords^  or  forms  of  thankfgiving, 
 are  more  particularly  parts  of  piety,  or  more 
 the  vvorfhip  of  God  than  other  things  j  but  it 
 
 La  is 
 
i^S  A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 h  bccaufc  they  arc  poffible  ways  of  exprefling 
 our  depcndance,  our  obedience  and  devotion. 
 to  God.     Now  if  this  be  the  reafon  of  ver- 
 bal praifcs  and  thanklgivings  to  God,  bccaufc 
 we  are  to   live  unto   God   all  poffible  ways, 
 then  it  plainly  follows,  that  wx  are  equally 
 obliged  to  worfhip   and    glorify  God    in    all 
 other  aftions  that  can  be  turned  into  acts  of 
 piety  and  obedience  to  him.     And  as  adions 
 are  of  much  more  lignificancy  than  words,  it 
 muft  be  a  much  more  acceptable  worfhip  of 
 God,  to  glorify  him  in  all  the  aftions  of  our 
 common  life,    than  with  any  little  form  of 
 words  at  any  particular  times. 
 
 Thus,  if  God  is  to  be  worfhipped  with 
 forms  of  thanklgivings,  he  that  makes  it  a 
 rule  to  be  content  and  thankful  in  every  part 
 and  accident  of  his  life,  becaufe  it  comes 
 from  God,  praiies  God  in  a  much  higher  man- 
 ner, than  he  that  has  fome  fet  time  for  fing- 
 ing  of  Pfalms.  He  that  dares  not  to  fay  an 
 ill-natur'd  word,  or  do  an  unrealbnable  thing, 
 becaufe  he  confidcrs  God  as  every-where  pre- 
 fent,  performs  a  better  devotion  than  he  that 
 dares  not  mifs  the  church.  To  live  in  the 
 world  as  a  ftranger  and  a  pilgrim,  ufing  all 
 its  enjoyments  as  if  we  ufed  them  not,  ma- 
 king all  our  aftions  fo  many  fteps  towards  a 
 better  life,  is  offering  a  better  lacrifice  to 
 God,  than  any  forms  of  holy  and  heavenly 
 prayers. 
 
 To  be  humble  In  all  our  actions,  to  avoid 
 
 cyery  appearance  of  pride  and  vanity,  to  be 
 
 •1  meek 
 
to  a  Deri/ont  ajid  Holy  Life,       i^p 
 
 meek  and  lowly  in  our  words,  adions,  drcfs, 
 behaviour  and  defigns,  in  imitation  of  our 
 blefled  Saviour,  is  woriliipping  God  in  a  higher 
 manner,  than  they  who  have  only  times  to 
 fall  low  on  their  knees  in  devotions.  He  that 
 contents  himlelf  with  necejpines^  that  he  may 
 give  the  remainder  to  thofe  that  w^ant  it ; 
 that  dares  not  to  Ipend  any  money  foolifhly, 
 becaufe  he  confiders  it  as  a  talent  from  God, 
 which  muft  be  ufed  according  to  his  will, 
 praifes  God  with  fomething  that  is  more  glo- 
 rious than  longs  of  praife. 
 
 He  that  has  appointed  times  for  the  ufe  of 
 wife  and  pious  prayers,  performs  a  proper  in- 
 ftance  of  devotion ;  but  he  that  allows  him- 
 felf  no  times,  nor  any  places,  nor  any  aftions, 
 but  fuch  as  are  ftridly  conformable  to  wifdom 
 and  holinefs,  worfhips  the  divine  nature  with 
 the  moft  true  and  fubftantial  devotion.  For 
 w^ho  does  not  know,  that  it  is  better  to  be 
 pure  and  holy,  than  to  talk  about  purity  and 
 holinels?  Nay,  who  does  not  know,  that  a 
 man  is  to  be  reckoned  no  farther  pure,  or  ho- 
 ly, or  juft,  than  as  he  is  pure,  and  holy,  and 
 juft  in  the  common  courle  of  his  life?  But  if 
 this  be  plain,  then  it  is  alio  plain,  that  it  is 
 better  to  be  holy,  than  to  have  holy  prayers. 
 
 Prayers  therefore  are  lb  far  from  being  a 
 fufficient  devotion,  that  they  are  the  fmalleft 
 parts  of  it.  We  are  to  praife  God  with  words 
 and  prayers,  becaufe  it  is  a  polTible  w^ay  of 
 glorifying  God,  who  has  given  us  fuch  facuW 
 tie$,  ^s  may  be  fo  ufed.     But  then  as  words 
 
I  ^o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 are  but  fmall  things  in  themfelves,  as  times 
 of  prayer  are  but  little,  if  compar'd  with  the 
 reft  of  our  lives  ;  fo  that  devotion  which  con- 
 fifts  in  times  and  forms  of  prayer,  is  but  a  ve- 
 ry fmail  thing,  if  compared  to  that  devotion 
 which  is  to  appear  in  every  other  part  and 
 circumftance  of  our  lives. 
 
 Again;  as  it  is  an  eafy  thing  to  worihip 
 God  with  forms  of  words,  and  to  obferve 
 times  of  offering  them  unto  him,  fo  it  is  the 
 fmaileft  kind  of  piety. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  as  it  is  more  diffi- 
 cult to  worihip  God  with  our  fubftance,  to 
 honour  him  with  the  right  ufe  of  our  time, 
 to  offer  to  him  the  continual  facrifice  of  felf- 
 denial  and  mortification ;  as  it  requires  more 
 piety  to  eat  and  drink  only  for  fuch  ends  as 
 may  glorify  God,  to  undertake  no  labour, 
 nor  allow  of  any  diverfion,  but  where  we  can 
 ad  in  the  name  of  God;  as  it  is  more  difficult 
 to  facrifice  all  our  corrupt  tempers,  corred  all 
 our  paflions,  and  make  piety  to  God  the  rule 
 and  meafure  of  all  the  aftions  of  our  common 
 life:  fo  the  devotion  of  this  kind  is  a  much 
 more  acceptable  fervice  unto  God,  than  thole 
 words  of  devotion  which  we  offer  to  him  ei- 
 ther in  the  Churchy  or  in  our  clofet. 
 
 Every  fober  reader  will  eafily  perceive,  that 
 I  don't,  intend  to  leffen  the  true  and  great  va- 
 lue of  Prayers,  either  publick  or  private ;  but 
 only  to  fhew  him,  that  they  are  certainly  but 
 a  very  flender  part  of  devotion^  when  com- 
 pared to  a  devout  life. 
 
 To 
 
to  a  Dez^oHt  and  Holy  Life.       151 
 
 To  lee  this  in  a  yet  clearer  light,  let  us 
 fappofe  a  peribn  to  have  appointed  times  for 
 praifing  God  with  Plalms  and  Hymns,  and  to 
 be  Uriel  in  the  obiervation  of  them ;  let  it  be 
 fuppoled  alio,  that  in  his  common  life  he  is 
 reftlcis  and  unealy,  full  of  murmur ings  and 
 complaints  at  every  thing,  never  plealed  but 
 by  chance,  as  his  temper  happens  to  carry 
 him,  but  murmuring  and  repining  at  the  ve- 
 ry fealbns,  and  having  fomething  to  diflike 
 in  every  thing  that  happens  to  him.  Now 
 can  you  conceive  any  thing  more  abfurd  and 
 unreafonable,  than  luch  a  charader  as  this  ?  Is 
 fuch  a  one  to  be  reckoned  thankful  to  God,  be- 
 cauie  he  h^ds  forms  of  fratfe  which  he  offers  to 
 him  ?  Nay,  is  it  not  certain,  that  liich  forms 
 of  praife  muft  be  lb  far  from  being  an  accep- 
 table devotion  to  God,  that  they  muft  be  ab- 
 hon'd  as  an  abomination?  Now  the  abfurdity 
 w^hich  you  fee  in  this  inftance,  is  the  fame  in 
 any  other  part  of  our  life ;  if  our  common  life 
 hath  any  contrariety  to  our  prayers,  it  is  the 
 fame  abomination,  as  fongs  of  thankfgiving 
 in  the  mouths  of  murmurers. 
 
 Bended  knees,  whilft  you  are  cloathed  with 
 pride;  heavenly  petitions,  whilft  you  are 
 hoarding  up  trcafures  upon  earth ;  holy  de- 
 votions, whilft  you  live  in  the  follies  of  the 
 world ;  prayers  of  meeknefs  and  charity,  whilft 
 your  heart  is  the  feat  of  fpight  and  relent- 
 ment;  hours  of  prayer,  whilft  you  give  up 
 days  and  years  to  idk  diverfions,  impertinent 
 vifits,  and  foolifli  pleafures  j  are  as  abfurd,  un- 
 
 L  4  acccp* 
 
I  <  2  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 acceptable  lervice  to  God,  as  forms  of  thankC- 
 giving  from  a  perlbn  that  lives  in  rcpinings 
 and  difcontent. 
 
 So  that  unlefs  the  common  courfe  of  our 
 lives  be  according  to  the  common  fpirit  of 
 our  prayers,  our  prayers  are  fo  far  from  being 
 a  real  or  liifficient  degree  of  devotion,  that 
 they  become  an  empty  lip-labour,  or,  what  is 
 worfe,  a  notorious  hypocrify. 
 
 Seeing  therefore  we  are  to  make  the  ffint 
 and  temper  of  our  prayers  the  common  Jp'irii^ 
 and  temper  of  our  lives,  this  may  ferve  to 
 convince  us,  that  all  orders  of  people  are  to 
 labour  and  afpire  after  the  Ja  me  tit  mo  ft  perfe- 
 ftion  of  the  Chriftian  life.  For  as  all  Chrifti- 
 ans  are  to  ufe  the  fame  holy  and  heavenly  de- 
 votions, as  they  are  all  with  the  fame  earnell- 
 nefs  to  pray  for  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  lb  is  it  a 
 liifficient  proof,  that  all  orders  of  people  are, 
 to  the  utmoft  of  their  power,  to  make  their 
 life  agreeable  to  that  one  fpirit,  for  which  they 
 are  all  to  pray. 
 
 As  certain  therefore  as  the  fame  holincfs  of 
 prayers  requires  the  fame  holinefs  of  life,  fo 
 certain  is  it,  that  all  Chriftians  are  called  to 
 the  fame  holinels  of  life. 
 
 K  joldler^  or  a  tradejman^  is  not  called  to 
 minifter  at  the  altar^  or  preach  the  Gofpel^ 
 but  every  Ibldier  or  tradefman  is  as  much  obli- 
 ged to  be  devout,  humble,  holy,  and  hea^ 
 vcnly-minded  in  all  the  parts  of  his  common 
 Tife^  as  a  clergyman  is  obliged  to  be  zealous, 
 
 &ith« 
 
to  a  Dcz'ont  and  Holy  Life.       155 
 
 faithful,  and  laborious  in  all  the  parts  of  his 
 profcjlion. 
 
 And  all  this  for  this  one  plain  reafon,  be- 
 caufe  all  people  are  to  pray  for  the  fame  holi- 
 nefs,  wildom,  and  divine  tempers,  and  to 
 make  themfelves  as  fit  as  they  can  for  the 
 fame  heaven. 
 
 All  men  therefore,  as  men,  have  one  and 
 the  fame  imfortafit  bufinels,  to  a6t  up  to  the 
 excellency  of  their  rational  nature,  and  to 
 make  rea/on  and  order  the  law  of  all  their  de- 
 figns  and  adions.  All  Chriftians,  as  Chri- 
 ftians,  have  one  and  the  lame  calling,  to  live 
 according  to  the  excellency  of  the  Chriftian 
 Ipirit,  and  to  make  the  fublime  precepts  of 
 the  Gofpel,  the  rule  and  meafure  of  all  their 
 tempers  in  common  life.  The  one  thing 
 needful  to  one,  is  the  one  thing  needful  to 
 all. 
 
 The  merchant  is  no  longer  to  hoard  up  trea-; 
 fures  upon  earth ;  Xh^Jbldter  is  no  longer  to 
 fight  for  glory ;  the  ^xccitjchohr  is  no  longer 
 to  pride  himielf  in  the  depths  of  fcience;  but 
 they  muft  all  with  one  Ipirit  count  all  things 
 but  lofs^  jor  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
 Chift  Jifus. 
 
 The  fine  lady  muft  teach  her  eyes  to  weep, 
 and  be  cloathed  with  humility.  The  polite 
 gentleman  muft  exchange  the  gay  thoughts  of 
 wit  and  fancy,  for  a  broken  and  a  contrite 
 heart.  The  man  of  quaUty  muft  ^o  far  re- 
 nounce the  dignity  of  his  birth,  as  to  think 
 Jiimfelf  milerable  till  he  is  horn  again.    Ser^ 
 
 vants 
 
1^4  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 vants  muft  confidcr  their  fervice  as  done  unto 
 God.  Maflers  muft  confider  their  fervants  as 
 their  brethren  in  Chrift,  that  are  to  be  treated 
 as  their  fellow-members  of  the  myftical  body 
 of  Chrift. 
 
 Toung  Ladies  muft  either  devote  themfelves 
 to  piety,  prayer,  felf-denial,  and  all  good 
 works,  in  a  virgin  Jiate  of  life ;  or  elfe  marry 
 to  be  holy,  Ibber,  and  prudent  in  the  care  of 
 a  family,  bringing  up  their  children  in  piety, 
 humility,  and  devotion,  and  abounding  in  all 
 other  good  works,  to  the  utmoft  of  their  ftate 
 and  capacity.  They  have  no  choice  of  any 
 thing  elie,  but  muft  devote  themfelves  to  God 
 in  one  of  thefe  ftates.  They  may  chufe  a 
 marry'd,  or  a  fingle  life ;  but  it  is  not  left  to 
 their  choice,  whether  they  will  make  either 
 ftate,  a  ftate  of  holinefs,  humility,  devotion, 
 and  all  other  duties  of  the  Chriftian  life.  It 
 is  no  more  left  in  their  power,  becaulc  they 
 have  fortunes,  or  are  born  of  rich  parents,  to 
 divide  themfelves  betwixt  God  and  the  world, 
 or  take  fuch  pleafures  as  their  fortune  will  af- 
 ford them,  than  it  is  allowable  for  them  to  be 
 fometimes  chafte  and  modeft,  and  Ibmetimes 
 not. 
 
 They  are  not  to  confider,  how  much  reli- 
 gion may  fecure  them  2ifair  charaBer^  or  how 
 they  may  add  devotion  to  an  impertinent ^  vain 
 and  giddy  life ;  but  muft  look  into  the  Jpirif 
 and  temper  of  their  prayers,  into  the  nature 
 and  end  of  Chriftianity,  and  then  they  will 
 find,  that  whether  marry'd  or  unmarry'd,  they 
 
 haye 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      1^5 
 
 have  but  one  bufinefs  upon  their  hands;  to  be 
 wife  and  pious,  and  holy,  not  in  little  modes 
 and  forms  of  worfliip,  but  in  the  whole  turn 
 of  their  minds,  in  the  whole  form  of  all  their 
 behaviour,  and  in  the  daily  courle  of  their 
 common  life. 
 
 Toang  Gentlemen  muft  confider,  what  our 
 bleifed  Saviour  laid  to  the  young  Gentleman 
 in  the  Golpel,  he  bid  him  Jell  all  that  he  hadj 
 and  give  to  the  poor.  Now  tho'  this  text 
 Jhould  not  oblige  all  people  to  fell  all^  yet  it 
 certainly  obliges  all  kinds  of  people  to  emphy 
 all  thth  cftates  in  luch  wife  and  realbnable 
 and  charitable  ways,  as  may  fufficiently  ftiew 
 that  all  that  they  have  is  devoted  to  God, 
 and  that  no  part  of  it  is  kept  from  the  poor, 
 to  be  Ipent  in  needlels,  vain,  and  fooliih  ex- 
 pences. 
 
 If  therefore  young  Gentlemen  propofe  to 
 themfelves  a  life  of  pleafure  and  indulgence, 
 if  they  fpend  their  eftatcs  in  high  living,  in 
 luxury  and  intemperance,  in  ftate  and  equi- 
 page, in  pleafures  and  diverfions,  in  fports 
 and  gaming,  and  fuch  like  wanton  gratifica- 
 tions of  their  fooliih  paffions,  they  have  as 
 much  reafon  to  look  upon  themfelves  to  be 
 Angels^  as  to  be  difciples  of  Chrift. 
 
 Let  them  be  afTur'd,  that  it  is  the  one  only 
 bufinefs  of  a  Chriftlan  dentleman^  to  diftinguifh 
 himfelf  by  good  works,  to  be  eminent  in  the 
 mofi:  fublime  virtues  of  the  Gofpel,  to  bear 
 
 (with  the  ignorance  and  weaknefs  of  the  vul- 
 gar, to  be  a  friend  and  patron  to  all  that  dwell 
 about 
 
i5<5 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 about  him,  to  live  in  the  utmoft  heights  of 
 ^vifdom  and  holineis,  and  fhew  thro'  the 
 whole  coiirfe  of  his  life  a  true  religious  great- 
 ncls  of  mind.  They  mult  afpire  after  fuch  a 
 gentility,  as  they  might  have  learnt  from  fee- 
 ing the  blelTed  Jefus,  and  fhew  no  other  fpi- 
 lit  of  a  gentleman,  but  lueh  as  they  might 
 have  got  by  living  with  the  holy  Apoftles. 
 They  muft  learn  to  love  God  with  all  their 
 heart,  with  all  their  foul,  and  with  all  their 
 Itrength,  and  their  neighbour  as  themfelves; 
 and  then  they  have  all  the  greatnefs  and  di- 
 ftinclion  that  they  can  have  here,  and  are  fit 
 for  an  eternal  happinefs  in  heaven  hereafter. 
 
 Thus  in  all  orders  and  conditions,  either  of 
 men  or  women,this  is  the  one  common  holinefs, 
 which  is  to  be  the  coinmon  life  of  all  Chriftians, 
 
 The  Merchant  is  not  to  leave  devotion  to 
 the  Clergyman,  nor  the  Clergyman  to  leave 
 humility  to  the  labourer  \  women  di  fortune 
 are  not  to  leave  it  to  the  poor  of  their  lex, 
 to  he  difcreet^  chajiej  keepers  at  home^  to  adorn 
 themfelves  in  modeji  apparel^  foarnefacednefs 
 ^LTiAfobrlety  •  nor  poor 'women  leave  it  to  the 
 rich  to  attend  at  the  worlhip  and  fervice  of 
 God.  Great  men  muft  be  eminent  for  true 
 poverty  of  fp'irit^  and  people  of  a  low  and 
 affif^ed  ftate  mult  greatly   rejoyce   in  God, 
 
 The  man  oi  firength  and  power  is  to  for- 
 give and  pray  for  his  enemies,  and  the  tnno'* 
 cent  fafferer  that  is  chained  in  prifon,  muft 
 with  ^atil  and  Silas^  at  midnight  fing  praifcs 
 to  God,     For  God  is  to  be  glorified^  holinels 
 
 is 
 
to  a  Devout  avd  Holy  Life.       157 
 
 IS  to  be  praftifed,  and  the  fpirit  of  Religion 
 is  to  be  the  common  Ipirit  of  every  Chriftian 
 in  every  ftate  and  condition  of  life. 
 
 For  the  Son  of  God  did  not  come  from  a- 
 bove,  to  add  an  external  form  of  worlhip  to 
 the  feveral  ways  of  life  that  are  in  the  world  ; 
 and  lb  to  leave  people  to  live  as  they  did  before, 
 in  fuch  tempers  and  enjoyments  as  the  fafhion 
 and  fpirit  of  the  world  approves.  But  as  he 
 came  down  from  heaven,  altogether  divine  and 
 heavenly  in  his  own  nature,  lb  it  was  to  call 
 mankind  to  a  divine  and  heavenly  life ;  ta 
 the  higheft  change  of  their  w^hole  nature  and 
 temper;  to  be  born  again  of  the  holy  Spirit; 
 to  walk  in  the  wifdom  and  light  and  love  of 
 God ;  and  be  like  him  to  the  utmoft  of  their 
 power  ;  to  renounce  all  the  molt  plaunble 
 ways  of  the  world,  whether  of  greatneis, 
 bufinefs,  or  plealure ;  to  a  mortification  of  all 
 their  moft  agreeable  paffions;  and  to  live  in 
 fuch  wifdom,  and  purity  and  holinefs,  as 
 might  fit  them  to  be  glorious  in  the  enjoy- 
 ment of  God  to  all  eternity. 
 
 Whatever  therefore  is  fooliJJj^  r'ld'icuhus^ 
 vain^  or  earthly^  or  fenjual  in  the  life  of  a 
 Chriftian,  is  fomething  that  ought  not  to  be 
 there,  it  isay^^/'and  a  dejil e men t  th-^it  muft  be 
 wafied  away  with  tears  of  repentance.  But 
 if  any  thing  of  this  kind  runs  thro'  the 
 coarfe  of  our  whole  life,  if  we  allow  our  felvcs 
 in  things  that  are  either  vain,  fooliih,  or 
 fenfual,  we  renounce  our  profeilion. 
 
 For  as  fure  as  Jefus  Chrift  was  wifdom  and 
 holinels,  as  fure  as  he  came  to  make  us  like 
 
 himfelf^ 
 
ij^S 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 himfelf,  and  to  be  baptized  into  his  fpirit,  ib 
 fure  is  it,  that  none  can  be  laid  to  keep  to 
 their  Chriftian  profeffion,  but  they  who  to 
 the  utmoft  of  their  power,  live  a  wile  and 
 holy  and  heavenly  life.  This  and  this  alone 
 is  Chriftianity,  an  univerfal  holinefs  in  every 
 part  of  life,  a  heavenly  wifdom  in  all  our  afti- 
 ons,  not  conforming  to  the  fpirit  and  temper 
 of  the  world,  but  turning  all  worldly  enjoy- 
 ments into  means  of  piety  and  devotion  to 
 God. 
 
 But  now  if  this  devout  ftate  of  heart,  if 
 thefe  habits  of  inward  holinefs  be  true  Reli- 
 gion, then  true  Religion  is  equally  the  duty 
 and  happinefs  of  all  orders  of  men  ^  for  there 
 is  nothing  to  recommend  it  to  one,  that  is 
 not  the  fame  recommendation  of  it  to  all  ftates 
 of  people. 
 
 If  it  be  the  happinefs  and  glory  of  a  B'lfiop 
 to  live  in  this  devout  ipirit,  full  of  thefe  ho- 
 ly tempers,  doing  every  thing  as  unto  God, 
 it  is  as  much  the  glory  and  happinefs  of  all 
 men  and  women,  whether  young  or  old,  to 
 live  in  the  fame  fpirit.  And  whoever  can 
 find  any  reafons,  why  an  antlent  Bijhop  Ihould 
 be  intent  upon  divine  things,  turning  all  his 
 life  into  the  higheft  exercifes  of  piety,  wif- 
 dom, and  devotion,  will  find  them  lb  many 
 reafons,  why  he  Ihould  to  the  utmoft  of  his 
 power,  do  the  fame  himfelf. 
 
 If  you  fay  that  a  Bijhop  muft  be  an  eminent 
 example  of  Chriftian  holinefs,  becaufe  of  his 
 high  and  facred  calling,  you  fay  right.     But 
 
 if 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      1 59 
 
 if  you  fay  that  it  is  more  to  his  advantage  to 
 be  exemplary,  than  it  is  yours,  you  greatly 
 miftake.  For  there  is  nothing  to  make  the 
 higheft  degrees  of  holinefs  defirable  to  a 
 Billiop,  but  what  makes  them  equally  defi- 
 rable to  every  young  perjbn   of  every    fami- 
 
 For  an  exalted  piety,  high  devotion,  and 
 the  religious  ufe  of  every  thing,  is  as  much 
 the  glory  and  happinefs  of  one  ftate  of  life, 
 as  it  is  of  another. 
 
 Do  but  fancy  in  your  mind  what  a  fpirit  of 
 piety  you  would  have  in  the  beji  Bifhop  in  the 
 world,  how  you  would  have  him  love  God, 
 how  you  would  have  him  imitate  the  life  of  our 
 Saviour  and  his  Apoftles,  how  you  w^ould 
 have  him  live  above  the  world,  Jhtning  in  all 
 the  inftances  of  a  heavenly  life^  and  then  you 
 have  found  out  that  Ipirit,  which  you  ought 
 to  make  the  Ipirit  of  your  own  life. 
 
 I  defire  every  reader  to  dwell  a  w^hilc  upon 
 this  refledion,  and  perhaps  he  will  find  more 
 convidion  from  it,  than  he  imagines.  Every 
 one  can  tell  how  good  and  pious  he  would 
 have  fome  people  to  be;  every  one  knows 
 how  wife  and  reafonable  a  thing  it  is  in  a 
 Bifljop^  to  be  entirely  above  the  world,  and 
 be  an  eminent  example  of  Chrifliian  perfeftion: 
 As  foon  as  you  think  of  a  ivife  and  antient 
 Bipjop^  you  fancy  fome  exalted  degree  of  pie- 
 ty, a  living  example  of  all  thofe  holy  tempers, 
 which  you  find  delcrib'd  in  the  Golpel. 
 
 Now 
 
i6o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Now  if  you  ask  your  fdf,  what  is  the 
 happicft  thing  for  a  young  Clergy ?nan  to  do? 
 You  muft  be  forc'd  to  anlwer,  that  nothing 
 can  be  fo  happy  and  glorious  for  him,  as  to 
 be  hke  that  excellent,    holy  Bifnop. 
 
 If  you  go  on,  and  ask  what  is  the  happieft 
 thing,  for  any  young  Ge?2tleman  or  his  jffiers 
 to  do?  The  anfwer  muft  be  the  lame*  that 
 nothing  can  be  fo  happy  or  glorious  for  them, 
 as  to  live  in  fuch  habits  of  piety,  in  fuch  ex- 
 ercifes  of  a  divine  life,  as  this  good  old  BilTiop 
 does.  For  every  thing  that  is  great  and  glo- 
 rious in  Religion,  is  as  much  the  true  glory 
 of  every  man  or  woman,  as  it  is  the  glory  of 
 any  Bilhop.  If  high  degrees  of  divine  love, 
 if  fervent  charity,  if  fpotlefs  purity,  if  hea- 
 venly affection,  if  conttant  mortification,  if 
 frequent  devotion  be  the  beft  and  happieft 
 way  of  life  for  any  Chriftian  ^  it  is  fo  for  e- 
 very  Chriftian. 
 
 Confider  again  ;  if  you  was  to  fee  a  Bifliop 
 in  the  whole  courfe  of  his  life,  living  below 
 his  character,  conforming  to  all  the  foolifti 
 tempers  of  the  w^orid,  and  governed  by  the 
 lame  cares  and  fears  which  govern  vain  and 
 worldly  men,  what  would  you  think  of  him? 
 Would  you  think  that  he  was  only  guilty  of 
 a  fmall  mtjlake'i  No.  You  would  condemn 
 him,  as  erring  in  that  which  is  not  only  the 
 mofl^  but  the  only  Important  matter  that  relates 
 to  him.  Stay  a  while  in  this  confideration, 
 till  your  mind  is  fully  convinced,  how  mife- 
 
 rable 
 
to  a  Devout  a?7d  Holy  Life.      i6i 
 
 rable  a   miftakc  it  is  in  a  Bifliop,  to  live  a 
 carelefs,  worldly  life. 
 
 Whilft  you  are  thinking  in  this  manner, 
 turn  your  thoughts  towards  fome  of  your 
 acquaintance 5  your  brother  or  filler,  or 
 any  young  perfon.  Now  if  you  fee  the 
 common  courfe  of  their  lives  to  be  not  ac- 
 cording to  the  doftrines  of  the  Gofpel,  if 
 you  fee  that  th^ir  way  of  life  cannot  be 
 laid  to  be  a  fincere  endeavour  to  enter  in 
 at  the  ftraight  gate,  you  fee  fomething 
 that  you  are  to  condemn  in  the  fame  de- 
 gree, and  lor  the  fame  reafons.  They 
 don't  commit  a  Jmall  mi/lake^  but  are  wrong 
 in  that  which  is  their  all^  and  miitake 
 their  true  happinefs,  as  much  as  that  Bt(1oop 
 does,  who  negleds  the  high  duties  of  his 
 calling.  Apply  this  realbning  to  your  felf^ 
 if  you  find  your  ielf  living  an  idle,  in** 
 dulgent,  vain  life,  chufing  rather  to  gra- 
 tify your  pafiions,  than  to  live  up  to  the 
 doctrines  of  Chriftianity,  and  praclife  .t-Le 
 pl^in  precepts  of  our  bleflfed  Lord,  you 
 have  all  that  blindnefs  and  unrealbnable- 
 nefs  to  charge  upon  your  felf,  that  you 
 can%:harge  upon   any   irregular   Bifhop. 
 
 For  all  the  virtues  of  the  Chriftiaa 
 life,  its  perfed  purity,  its  heavenly  tern*' 
 pers,  are  as  much  the  fole  rule  of  your 
 life,  as  the  fole  rule  of  the  life  of  a  Bi- 
 fhop.  If  you  negleft  thefe  holy  tempers,  if 
 you    don't    eagerly    afpire    after    them,    if 
 
 M  yoii 
 
l62  A  Serious   Call 
 
 you  do  not  fliew  your  felf  a  vifible 
 example  of  them,  you  are  as  much  fallen 
 from  your  true  happinefs,  you  are  as 
 grqat  an  enemy  to  your  lelf,  and  have 
 jTiade  as  bad  a  choice^  as  that  Bilhop  that 
 chufcs  rather  to  enrich  his  family,  than  to 
 be  like  an  Jpojile.  For  there  is  no  rea- 
 Ibn,  why  you  lliould  think  the  higheft 
 holinefs,  the  moft  heavenly  tempers,  to  be 
 the  duty  and  happinefs  of  a  BtJJjop ;  but 
 what  is  as  good  a  reafon,  why  you  fhould 
 think  the  fame  tempers,  to  be  the  duty 
 anc^  happinefs  of  all  Chriftians,  And  as 
 the  wifeft  Biflmp  in  the  world,  is  he  who 
 lives  in  the  greateft  heights  of  holinefs, 
 who  is  moft  exemplary  in  all  the  exercifes 
 of  a  divine  life,  fo  the  wifeji  yotith^  the 
 wileft  woman^  whether  marry'd  or  unmar- 
 ry'd,  is  Ihe,  that  lives  in  the  higheft  de-^ 
 grees  of  Chriftian  holinefs,  and  all  the  ex- 
 ercifes  of   a  divine  and  heayenly  life. 
 
 Cj  xX  a  1  k) 
 
to  a  T)c^ont  a?id  Holy  Life.        1^5 
 
 CHAP.     XL 
 
 Shewing  how  great  devot'ion  Jills  our  lives  with 
 the  great efi  peace  and  happnejs^  that  can  be 
 enjoy'd  in  this  zvorld. 
 
 SOme  people  will  perhaps  objeft,  that  all 
 thefe  rules  of  holy  living  unto  God  in 
 all  that  we  do,  are  too  great  a  refiraint  upon 
 human  life  ;  that  it  will  be  made  too  anxious 
 a  ftate,  by  thus  introducing  a  regard  to  God 
 in  all  our  actions.  And  that  by  depriving  our 
 lelves  of  fo  many  feemingly  innocent  plea- 
 fures,  we  ftiall  render  our  lives  dully  tmeajy^ 
 and  melancholy. 
 
 To  which  it  may  be  anf\\xr'd  : 
 
 Firjl  J  That  thefe  rules  are  prefcrib'd  for, 
 and  will  certainly  procure  a  quite  contrary 
 end.  That  inftead  of  making  our  lives  dull 
 and  melancholy,  they  will  render  them  full 
 of  content  and  ftrong  fatisfaftions„  That  by 
 thefe  rules  we  only  change  the  childifli  fatifc 
 fadions  of  our  vain  and  Jickfy  paffions ,  for 
 the  fblid  enjoyments,  and  real  happinefs  of  ;a 
 found  mind^ 
 
 Secondly y  That  as  there  is  no  foundation  for 
 
 comfort  in  the  enjoyments  of  this  life,  but  ia 
 
 the  affurance  that  a  wife  and  good  God  go^ 
 
 M  2,  vexnejJi 
 
1^4 
 
 A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 verneth  the  world,  fo  the  more  we  lind  out 
 God  in  every  thing,  the  n-iore  we  apply  to 
 him  in  every  place,  the  more  we  look  up  to 
 him  in  all  our  aftions,  the  more  we  conform 
 to  his  will,  the  more  we  ad  according  to  his 
 wifdom,  and  imitate  his  goodnefs ,  by  fo 
 much  the  more  do  we  enjoy  God,  partake  of 
 the  divine  nature,  and  heighten  and  incrcafe 
 all  that  is  haj^j)y  and  co}:?f or  tabic  in  human 
 life. 
 
 thirdly ^  He  that  is  endeavouring  to  fubdue 
 and  root  out  of  his  mind  all  thofe  pafiions  of 
 fride^  envy^  and  ambition^  which  religion  op- 
 pofes,  is  doing  more  to  make  himfelf  happy, 
 even  in  this  life,  than  he  that  is  contriving 
 means  to  indulge  them. 
 
 For  theie  pafiions  are  the  caufes  of  all  the 
 difquiets  and  vexations  of  human  life :  They 
 are  the  dropjies  dind  fevers  of  our  minds,  vex- 
 ing them  v/ith  ialie  appetites ,  and  relllefs 
 cravings  after  fuch  things  as  we  do  not  want, 
 and  fpoiling  our  tafte  for  thole  things  which 
 are  our  proper  good. 
 
 Do  but  imagine  that  you  fqme  where  or 
 other  law  a  man,  that  proposed  reafon  as  the 
 rule  of  all  his  actions,  that  had  no  defires  but 
 aftei  fuch  things  as  nature  wants,  and  religion 
 approves,  that  was  as  pure  from  all  the  mo- 
 tions of  frlde^  envy^  and  covetoufnefsy  as  from 
 thoughts  of  murder*^  that  in  this  freedom 
 from  worldly  pafiions,  he  had  a  foul  full  of 
 
 divine 
 
to  a  Ve^joiit  and  Holy  Life.       i6^ 
 
 divine  love,  wifhing  and  praying  that  all  men 
 may  have  what  they  want  of  worldly  things, 
 and  be  partakers  of  eternal  glory  in  the  life 
 to  come. 
 
 Do  but  fancy  a  man  living  in  this  manner, 
 and  your  own  conlcience  will  immediately 
 tell  you,  that  he  is  the  happleft  man  in  the 
 w^orld,  and  that  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  the 
 licheft  fancy  to  invent  any  higher  happinefs  in 
 the  prelcnt  ftate  of  life. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  if  you  fuppofe 
 him  to  be  in  any  degree  lefs  perfeB'^  if  you 
 fuppofe  him  but  fubjed  to  one  foolifli  fond- 
 nels,  or  vain  paffion,  your  own  confcience 
 will  again  tell  you,  that  he  i^o  far  leffens  his 
 own  happinefs,  and  robs  himfelf  of  the  true 
 enjoyment  of  his  other  virtues.  So  true  is  it, 
 that  the  more  we  live  by  the  rules  of  religion, 
 the  more  peaceful  and  happy  do  we  render 
 our  lives. 
 
 Again,  as  it  thus  appears,  that  real  happi- 
 nefs is  only  to  be  had  from  the  greatejl  degrees 
 of  piety,  the  greate/i  denials  of  our  paflions, 
 and  the  flr'iBeft  rales  of  religion,  \h  the  fame 
 truth  will  appear  from  a  confideration  of  hu^ 
 man  m'lfery.  If  we  look  into  the  world,  and 
 view  the  difquicts  and  troubles  of  human 
 life,  we  ihall  find  that  they  are  all  owing  to 
 our  violent  and  irreligious  pallions. 
 
 Now  all  trouble  and  uncafinels  is  founded 
 in  the  want  of  Ibmething  or  other ;  would 
 we  therefore  know  the  true  caufe  of  our  trou- 
 bles and  difquicts,  we  muft  find  out  the  caufc 
 
 M  3  of 
 
i66  A  Serious   Call 
 
 of  our  wants  ;  becaufe  that  which  creates  and 
 increafeth  our  wants,  does  in  the  fame  de-- 
 gree  create  and  increafe  our  trouble  and  dif- 
 quiets. 
 
 God  ahnighty  has  fent  us  into  the  world 
 with  very  few  wants ;  meat^  and  drmk^  and 
 chathlng^  are  the  only  things  neceifary  in  life  ; 
 and  as  thefe  are  only  our  prefent  needs,  lb  the 
 prefent  world  is  well  furnilh'd  to  fiipply  thefe 
 needs. 
 
 If  a  man  had  half  the  world  in  his  power, 
 he  can  make  no  more  of  it  than  this ;  as  he 
 wants  it  only  to  lupport  an  animal  life,  ib  is 
 it  unable  to  do  any  thing  elfe  for  him,  or  to 
 afford  him  any  other  happinefs. 
 
 This  is  the  ftate  of  man,  born  w^ith  few 
 wants,  and  into  a  large  world,  very  capable 
 of  fupplying  them.  So  that  one  would  rea- 
 Ibnably  fuppofe,  that  men  Ihould  pafs  their 
 lives  in  content  and  thankfulnefs  to  God,  at 
 leaft  that  they  fliould  be  free  from  violent 
 difquiets  and  vexations,  as  being  placed  in  a 
 world,  that  has  more  than  enough  to  relieve 
 all  their  wants. 
 
 But  if  to  all  this  we  add,  that  this  Ihort 
 life,  thus  furnifii'd  with  all  that  we  want  in 
 it,  is  only  a  Ihort  palfage  to  eternal  glory, 
 w^here  we  Ihall  be  cloathed  with  the  bright- 
 nefs  of  angels  J  and  enter  into  the  joys  of  God, 
 we  might  ftill  more  reafonably  expeft,  that 
 human  life  Ihould  be  a  ftate  of  peace ,  and 
 joy,  and  delight  in  God,  Thus  it  would  cer- 
 tainly 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        1 6^ 
 
 tainly  be,    if  realbn  had  its  full  power  ovet 
 us. 
 
 But  alas,  though  God,  and  Nature,  and 
 Realbn,  make  human  life  thus  free  from 
 wants,  and  fo  full  of  happinefs,  yet.  our  paC* 
 fions,  in  rebellion  againft  God,  againft  natiire 
 and  reajon^  create  a  new  world  of  evils,  and 
 fill  human  life  with  imaginary  wants,  and 
 vain  difquiets. 
 
 The  man  oi  frlde  has  a  thoufand  wants^ 
 which  only  his  own  pride  has  created:^  and 
 thefe  render  him  as  full  of  trouble,  as  if  God 
 had  created  him  with  a  thoufand  appetites^ 
 without  creating  any  thing  that  was  proper  to 
 fatisfy  them.  Envy  and  Amhttton  have  alio 
 their  endlefs  wants,  which  difquiet  the  fouls  of 
 men,  and  by  their  contradiftory  motions,  ren- 
 der them  as  foolifhly  miferable,  as  thole  that 
 want  to  fly  and  creep  at  the  fame  time. 
 
 Let  but  any  complaining,  difquieted  man 
 tell  you  the  ground  of  his  uneafinefs ,  and 
 you  will  plainly  lee,  that  he  is  the  author  of 
 his  own  torment;  that  he  is  vexing  himfelf 
 at  fome  imaginary  evil,  which  will  ccafe  to 
 torment  him,  as  loon  as  he  is  content  to  be 
 that  which  God,  and  nature,  and  reafon  require 
 him  to  be. 
 
 If  you  Ihould  fee  a  man  palling  his  days  in 
 difquiet,  becaufe  he  could  not  walk  upon  the 
 water ,  or  catch  birds  as  they  fly  by  him  ^ 
 you  would  readily  confels,  that  liich  a  one 
 might  thank  himfelf  for  fuch  uneafinefs. 
 But  now  if  you  look  into  all  the  moft  tor- 
 
 M  4  menting 
 
1^8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 mcnting  difquiets  of  life,  you  will  find  them 
 all  thus  abiurd;  where  people  are  only  tor- 
 mented by  their  own  folly,  and  vexing  them- 
 felves  at  iiich  things  as  no  more  concern  them, 
 nor  are  any  more  their  proper  good  ,  than 
 walking  upon  the  water\  or  catching  Virds, 
 
 What  can  you  conceive  more  filly  and  ex- 
 travagant ,  than  to  iiippofe  a  man  racking 
 his  brains,  and  Itudying  night  and  day  how 
 to  fly  ?  -wandnng  from  his  own  houle  and 
 home,  wearying  himielf  with  cjimb'mg  upon 
 every  afccnt,  cringing  and  courting  every  body 
 he  meets,  to  lift  him  up  from  the  ground, 
 bruifing  himielf  w^ith  continual  fallsj  and  at 
 ]aft  breaking  his  neck  ?  And  all  this,  from  an 
 imagination  that  it  would  be  glorious  to  h^ve 
 the  eyes  of  people  gazing  up  at  him,  and 
 mighty  happy  to  eatj  and  drink^  and  Jleepj 
 at  the  top  of  the  highefl:  trees  in  the  king- 
 dom. Would  you  not  readily  own,  that  fuch 
 a  one  was  only  difquieted  by  his  own  jolly  r* 
 
 If  you  ask,  what  it  fignifies  to  luppole  fuch 
 filly  creatures  as  thefe,  as  are  no  where  to  be 
 found  in  human  life  ? 
 
 It  may  be  anfwer'd,  that  where-ever  you 
 fee  an  ambitious  man,  there  you  fee  this  vain 
 and  jenftlejs  flyer. 
 
 Again,  if  you  fhould  fee  a  man  that  had  a 
 large  j^ond  of  zvater^  yet  living  in  co72tinual 
 thirjl^  not  lufFering  himielf  to  drink  half  a 
 draughty  for  fear  of  leflening  his  pond ;  if  you 
 Ihould  iee  him  wafting  his  time  and  ftrength, 
 in  jetching  more  water  to  his  pond,    always 
 
 thirfly^ 
 
to  a  T>c^ont  and  Holy  Life.       169 
 
 thlrff)'^  yet  always  carrying  a  bucket  of  water 
 in  his  hand,  watching  early  and  late  to  catch 
 the  drops  of  rain,  gaping  after  every  cloud, 
 and  running  greedily  into  every  7njre  and  mtidy 
 in  hopes  of  water,  and  always  ftudying  how 
 to  make  every  d'ltrb  empty  it  lelf  into  his 
 forid.  If  you  fliould  lee  him  grow  grey  and 
 old  in  thefe  anxious  labours,  and  at  laft  end  a 
 careful^  thirfty  life,  by  falling  into  his  own. 
 fond^  would  you  not  lay  that  fuch  a  one  w^as 
 not  only  the  author  of  all  his  own  difquiets, 
 but  w^as  foolifh  enough  to  be  reckoned  amongft 
 ideots  and  madmen?  But  yet  foolifti  and  ab- 
 liard  as  this  character  is,  it  does  not  reprelent 
 half  the  follies,  and  abfurd  difquiets  of  the 
 covetous  man, 
 
 1  could  now  eafily  proceed  to  fliew  the  fame 
 effefts  of  all  our  other  paffions ;  and  make  it 
 plainly  appear,  that  all  our  mileries,  vexa- 
 tions, and  complaints,  are  entirely  of  our  own 
 making,  and  that  in  the  fame  abfurd  manner, 
 as  in  thefe  inftances  of  the  covetous  and  ambi- 
 tious man.  Look  where  you  will,  you  w^ill 
 lee  all  worldly  vexations  but  like  the  vexation 
 of  him,  that  was  always  in  mire  and  mud  in 
 fearch  of  water  to  drink,  when  he  had  more 
 at  home  than  was  lufRcient  for  an  hundred 
 horfes, 
 
 delta  is  always  telling  you  hov^  frovoh! d  ^q 
 is,  what  intolerable  Jhocktng  things  happen  to 
 her,  what  mo7iJlrous  ulage  flie  luffers,  and 
 what  vexations  fhe  meets  with  every-where. 
 She  tells  you  that  her  patience  is  quite  wore 
 
 out. 
 
170  A  Serious  Call 
 
 out,  and  there  is  no  bearing  the  behaviour  of* 
 people.     Every  ajfemhly  that  fhe  is  at,  fends 
 her  home  provok'd  ^  Ibmething  or  other  has 
 been  laid,  or  done,  that  no  rei^fonahle^  well- 
 bred  perlbn  ought  to  bear,     ^oor  people  that 
 want  her  charity,  are  lent  away  with  hafty  an- 
 fwers,  not  becaule  Ihe  has  not  a  heart  to  part 
 with  any  money,  but  becaule  fhe  is  too  fall  of 
 fome  trouble  of  her  own,  to  attend  to  the 
 complaints  of  others,     delia  has   no  bufinefs 
 upon  her  hands,  but  to  receive  the  income  of 
 a  plentiful  fortune ;  but  yet  by  the  doleful 
 turn  of  her  mind,  you  would  be  apt  to  think, 
 that  fhe  had  neither  food  nor  lodging.     If  you 
 fee  her  look  more  pale  than  ordinary,  if  her 
 lips  tremble  when  fhe  fpeaks  to.  you,  it  is  be- 
 caule fhe  is  juft  come  from  a  vift^  where  Lupus 
 took  no  notice  at   all  of  her,  but  talked  all 
 the  time  to  Lucinda^  who  has  not  half  her 
 fortune.     When  crofs  accidents  have  lb   dii- 
 order'd  her  ipirits,  that  fhe  is  forc'd  to  fend 
 for  the  Doctor  to  make  her  able  to  eat ;  flie 
 tells  him,  in  great  anger  at  providence,  that 
 ihe  never  was  well  fince  fhe  was  born,  and 
 that  fhe  envies  every  beggar  that  fhe  fees  in 
 health. 
 
 This  is  the  difquiet  life  of  C^lia^  who  has 
 nothing  to  torment  her  but  her  ownfptnt. 
 
 If  you  could  infpire  her  with  chnjl'ian  hum't^ 
 llty^  you  need  do  no  more  to  make  her  as 
 happy  as  any  perfon  in  the  world.  This  vir- 
 tue would  make  her  thankful  to  God  for  half 
 fo  much  health  as  Ihe  has  had,  and  help  her 
 a  to 
 
to  a  T)e^ont  and  Holy  Life.  171 
 
 to  enjoy  more  for  the  time  to  come.  This  vir- 
 tue would  keep  off  trembluigs  of  the  Ijpirits, 
 and  lojs  of  appetite,  and  her  blood  would  need 
 nothing  elfe  to  fweeten  it. 
 
 I  have  juft  touched  upon  thefe  abfurd  cha- 
 radters  for  no  other  end,  but  to  convince  you 
 in  the  plainelt  manner,  that  the  JiriBefl  rules 
 of  religion  are  ^o  far  from  rendering  a  life  dully 
 anxious^  and  unccmjortable^  (as  is  above  objeft- 
 ed)  that,  on  the  contrary,  all  the  miferies, 
 vexations,  and  complaints  that  are  in  the 
 world,  are  all  owing  to  the  want  of  religion  ; 
 being  direftly  caufed  by  thofe  abfurd  paffions, 
 which  religion  teaches  us  to  deny. 
 
 For  all  the  wants  which  difturb  human  life, 
 which  make  us  uneafy  to  ourfelves,  quarrel- 
 Ibme  with  others,  and  unthankful  to  God; 
 which  weary  us  in  vain  labours  and  foolifli 
 anxieties ;  which  carry  us  from  project  to  pro- 
 jeft,  from  place  to  place,  in  a  poor  purfuit  of 
 we  don't  know  w  hat,  are  the  wants  which  nei- 
 ther God,  nor  nature,  nor  reafon  hath  fubjed- 
 cd  us  to,  but  are  folely  infufed  into  us  by 
 pride,  envy,  ambition,  and  covetoufnefs. 
 
 So  far  therefore  as  you  reduce  your  defires 
 to  fuch  things  as  nature  and  reafon  require  ;  lb 
 far  as  you  regulate  all  the  motions  of  your 
 heart  by  tho^flrlB  rules  of  religion,  fo  far  you 
 remove  yourfelf  from  that  infinity  of  wants 
 and  vexations,  which  torment  every  heart  that 
 is  left  to  itfelf. 
 
 Moft  people  indeed  confefs,  that  religion 
 preferyes  us  from  a  great  many  eyils,    and 
 
 helps 
 
172  A  Serious  Call 
 
 helps  us  in  many  relpefts  to  a  more  happy  en- 
 joyment of  ourfelvcs^  but  then  they  imagine, 
 that  this  is  only  true  of  luch  a  moderate  jhars 
 of  religion,  as  only  gently  reftrains  us  from 
 the  excefles  of  our  paffions.  They  fuppofe 
 that  the  y?r/(^  rales  and  reftraints  of  an  exalted 
 piety,  are  fuch  contrad'iBmis  to  our  nature,  as 
 muft  needs  make  our  lives  dull  and  uncomfor- 
 table. 
 
 Altho'  the  weaknefs  of  this  objeftion  fuffi- 
 ciently  appears  from  what  hath  been  already 
 faid,  yet  I  ihall  add  one  word  more  to  it. 
 
 This  objeftion  fuppofes,  that  religion  mode-- 
 rately  pradis'd,  adds  much  to  the  happinefs  of 
 life  \  but  that  fuch  heights  of  piety  as  the 
 perfection  of  religion  requireth,  have  a  con- 
 trary effcft. 
 
 It  fuppofes  therefore,  that  it  is  happy  to  be 
 kept  from  the  excejfes  of  envy,  but  unhappy 
 to  be  kept  from  other  degrees  of  envy.  That 
 it  is  happy  to  be  delivered  from  a  homidlefs 
 ambition,  but  unhappy  to  be  without  a  more 
 moderate  ambition.  It  fuppofes  alfo,  that  the 
 happinefs  of  life  confifts  in  a  ?nlxtiire  of  virtue 
 and  vice,  a  mixture  of  ambition  and  humili- 
 ty, charity  and  envy,  heavenly  affedion  and 
 covetouliiefs.  All  w^hich  is  as  abfurd,  as  to 
 fuppofe  that  it  is  happy  to  be  free  from  exceC- 
 live  pains,  but  unhappy  to  be  w^ithout  more 
 moderate  pains ;  or  that  the  happinefs  of  health 
 confiftcd  in  being  partly  fick,  and  partly  well. 
 
 For  if  humility  be  the  peace  and  reft  of  the 
 foul,  then  no  one  has  lb  much  happinefs  from 
 
 iium»- 
 
to  a  Vc'vout  and  Holy  Life.       175 
 
 humility,  as  he  that  is  the  moft  humble.  If 
 excefiive  envy  is  a  torment  of  the  foul,  he 
 moft  perfectly  delivers  himfelf  from  torment, 
 that  moft  perfeftly  cxtinguifties  every  fpark  of 
 envy.  If  there  is  any  peace  and  joy  in  doing 
 any  adion  according  to  the  will  of  God,  he 
 that  brings  the  moft  of  his  aftions  to  this 
 rule,  does  moft  of  all  increale  the  peace  and 
 joy  of  his  life. 
 
 And  thus  it  is  in  every  virtue;  if  you  aft 
 up  to  every  degree  of  it,  the  more  happinels 
 you  have  from  it.  And  fb  of  every  vice;  if 
 you  only  abate  its  exceffes,  you  do  but  little 
 for  yourfelf ;  but  if  you  rejed  it  in  all  de- 
 grees, then  you  feel  the  true  eafe  and  joy  of  a 
 reformed  mind. 
 
 As  for  example:  If  religion  only  reftrains 
 the  excejps  of  revenge,  but  lets  the  fpirit  ftill 
 live  within  you  in  leiTer  inftances,  your  religi- 
 on may  have  made  your  life  a  little  more  out- 
 wardly decent,  but  not  made  you  at  all  hap- 
 pier or  eafier  in  yourfelf  But  if  you  have 
 once  facrific'd  all  thoughts  of  revenge,  in  obe- 
 dience to  God,  and  are  refolv'd  to  return  good 
 for  evil  at  all  times,  that  you  may  render 
 yourlelf  more  like  to  God,  and  fitter  for  his 
 mercy  in  the  kingdom  of  love  and  glory ; 
 thi?  is  a  height  of  virtue  that  will  make  you 
 feel  Its  happineis. 
 
 Secondly^  As  to  thofe  fatisfaftions  and  en- 
 joyments which  an  exalted  piety  requireth  us 
 to  deny  ourlelves,  this  deprives  us  of  no  real 
 comfort  of  lifco  For, 
 
174  -^  Serious  Call 
 
 For,   i/?,  Piety  requires  us  to  renounce  no 
 ways  of  life,  where  we  can  aft  reafonahly^  and 
 offer  what  we  do  to  the  glory  of  God.     All 
 ways  of  life,  all  fatisfactions  and  enjoyments 
 that  are  within  thefe  bounds,  are  no  way  de-^ 
 ny'd  us  by  the  ftrideft  rules  of  piety.     What- 
 ever you  can  do,  or  enjoy,  as  in  the  prefence  of 
 God,  as  his  fervant,  as  his  rational  creature, 
 that  has  received  realbn  and  knowledge  from 
 him^  all  that  you  can  perform  conformably 
 to  a  rational  nature,  and  the  will  of  God,  all 
 this  is  allowed  by  the  laws  of  piety?    And 
 will  you  think  that  your  life  will  be  uncom- 
 fortable, unlels  you  may  difpleafe  God,  be  a 
 fool  and  mad,  and  aft  contrary  to  that  realbn 
 and  wifdom  w^hich  he  has  implanted  in  you  ? 
 And  as  for  thole  fatisfaftions,    which  we 
 dare  not  offer  to  a  holy  God,    which  are  only 
 invented  by  the  folly  and  corruption  of  the 
 world,  which  inflame  our  paffions,  and  fink 
 our  fouls  into  grofsnefs  and  fenfuality,    and 
 render  us  incapable  of  the  divine  favour  either 
 here  or  hereafter;  furely  it  can  be  no  uncom- 
 fortable ftate  of  life,  to  be  relcu'd  by  religion 
 from  fuch  felf-murder,  and  to  be  rendered  ca- 
 pable of  eternal  happinefs. 
 
 Let  us  fuppofe  a  perfgn  deftitute  of  that 
 knowledge  which  we  have  from  our  fenfes, 
 placed  fomewhere  alone  by  himfelf,  in  the 
 midft  of  a  variety  of  things  which  he  did  not 
 know  how  to  ufe :  that  he  has  by  him  Iready 
 w'lnc^  water  J  goldtn  dujij  iron  chains^  gravely 
 garment s^  jire^  i^c.     Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that 
 
 he 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  17^ 
 
 he  has  no  knowledge  of  the  right  tifc  of  thefe 
 things,  nor  any  dircftion  from  his  Jhifcs  how- 
 to  quench  his  thlrft^  or  ilitisfy  his  hunger^  or 
 make  any  ufe  of  the  things  about  him.  Let 
 it  be  fuppofed,  that  in  his  drought  he  puts 
 golden  diifl  into  his  eyes  ;  when  his  eyes  fmart, 
 he  puts  "uj'ine  into  his  ears\  that  in  his  hunger, 
 he  puts  gravel  in  his  mouth  ^  that  in  pain,  he 
 loads  himfcif  with  the  iron  chains ;  that  feel- 
 ing cold,  he  puts  his  feet  in  the  water;  that 
 being  frighted  at  the  fire,  he  runs  away  from 
 it ;  that  being  weary,  he  makes  a  feat  of  his 
 bread.  Let  it  be  fuppoled,  that  thro'  his  ig- 
 norance of  the  right  ufe  of  the  things  that  are 
 about  him,  he  will  vainly  torment  himfelf 
 whilft  he  lives ;  and  at  laft  dye,  blinded  with 
 dufiy  choaked  with  gravely  and  loaded  with 
 hons.  Let  it  be  fuppos'd,  that  Ibme  good 
 Being  came  to  him,  and  Ihew'd  him  the  na- 
 ture and  ufe  of  all  the  things  that  were  about 
 him,  and  gave  him  fuch  JlriB  rules  of  ufing 
 them,  as  would  certainly,  if  obferv'd,  make 
 him  the  happier  for  all  that  he  had,  and  deli- 
 ver him  from  the  pains  of  hunger,  and  thirft, 
 and  cold. 
 
 Now^  could  you  with  any  reafon  affirm,  that 
 thole  ftricl  rules  of  ufing  thole  things  that 
 were  about  him,  had  rendered  that  poor  man's 
 life  dull  and  uncomjcrtable. 
 
 Now  this  is  in  fome  meafure  a  reprefenta- 
 tion  of  the  (IriB  rules  of  religion ;  they  only 
 T.elieye  our  ignorance,  fave  us  from  torment- 
 ing 
 
iy6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 ing  ourfelves,  and  teach  us  to  ufe  every  thing 
 about  us  to  our  proper  advantage. 
 
 Man  is  placed  in  a  world  flill  of  variety  of 
 things ;  his  ignorance  makes  him  ule  many  of 
 them  as  abfurdly,  as  the  man  that  put  clnfi  in 
 his  eyes  to  relieve  his  thtrji^  or  put  on  chains 
 to  remove  pain. 
 
 Religion  therefore  here  comes  in  to  his  re- 
 lief, and  gives  him  fir'iB  rules  of  ufing  every 
 thing  that  is  about  him;  that  by  fo ufing  them 
 liiitably  to  his  own  nature,  and  the  nature  of 
 the  things,  he  may  have  always  the  pleafure 
 of  receiving  a  right  benefit  from  them.  It 
 ftiews  him  what  is  ftrictly  right  in  meat,  and 
 drink,  andcloaths;  and  that  he  has  nothing 
 elfe  to  exped  from  the  things  of  this  world, 
 but  to  fatisfy  fuch  wants  of  his  own ;  and 
 then  to  extend  his  affifl:anceto  all  his  brethren, 
 that  as  far  as  he  is  able,  he  may  help  all  his 
 fellow-creatures  to  the  fame  benefit  from  the 
 world  that  he  hath. 
 
 It  tells  him,  that  this  world  is  incapable  of 
 giving  him  any  other  happinefs ;  and  that  all 
 endeavours  to  be  happy  in  heaps  of  money ^  or 
 acres  of  land,  in  fine  cloathsj  rich  beds^  ftate- 
 ly  equipage^  and  Jhew  and  Jplendor^  are  only 
 vain  endeavours,  ignorant  attempts  after  im-^ 
 poffibilities ;  thefe  things  being  no  more  able 
 to  give  the  leaft  degree  of  happinefs,  than 
 duji  in  the  eyes  can  cure  thirfl:,  or  ^r<^:;^/ in  the 
 mouth  fatisfy  hunger;  but,  like  dull  and 
 gravel  mifapply'd,   will  only  ferye  to  render 
 
 him 
 
to  a  Dez/out  and  Holy  Life.       ijj 
 
 him  more  unhappy  by  fuch  an  ignorant  mif- 
 ule  of  them. 
 
 It  telis  him,  that  altho'  this  world  can  do 
 no  more  for  him,  than  fatisfy  thefe  wants  of 
 the  body  ;  yet  that  there  is  a  much  greater 
 good  prepared  for  man,  than  eating,  drinking, 
 and  drcfling*  that  it  is  yet  invifible  to  his 
 eyes,  being  too  glorious  for  the  apprehenfion 
 of  flefli  and  blood ;  but  referved  for  him  to 
 enter  upon,  as  loon  as  this  fhort  life  is  over; 
 w^here  in  a  new  body,  form'd  to  an  angclick 
 likenefs,  he  fiiall  dwell  in  the  light  and  glory 
 of  God  to  all  eternity. 
 
 It  tells  him,  that  this  ftate  of  glory  will  be 
 given  to  all  thole,  that  make  a  right  tife  of  the 
 things  of  this  prefent  world  ;  who  do  not  blind 
 themlelves  with  goldeji  diiji^  or  eat  gravely  or 
 groan  under  loads  of  iron  of  their  own  putting 
 on ;  but  ule  bread.,  water ^  wine.,  and  garwentSy 
 for  fuch  ends  as  are  according  to  nature  and 
 reafon  ^  and  who  with  faith  and  thankfulneis 
 worfhip  the  kind  giver  of  all  that  they  enjoy 
 here,  and  hope  for  hereafter. 
 
 Now  can  any  one  fay,  that  the  ftrldeft  rules 
 of  fuch  a  religion  as  this,  debar  us  of  any  of 
 the  comforts  of  life  ?  Might  iX.  not  as  juftly  be 
 faid  of  thofe  rules,  that  only  hindred  a  man 
 from  choaklng  himfelf  with  gravel?  For  the 
 ftriclnefs  of  thefe  rules  only  confifts  in  the 
 cxaftnefs  of  their  rectitude. 
 
 Vv'^ho  would  complain  of  the  fevere  fcriftnefs 
 of  a  law,  that  without  any  exception  forbad 
 the  putting  of  dull  into  our  eyes  ?  Who  could 
 
 N  thinly 
 
178  A  Serions  C  Jl  L  L 
 
 think  it  too  rigid,  that  there  were  no  abate- 
 ments? Now  this  is  the  fir'iBfieJs  of  religion, 
 it  requires  nothing  of  us  ftriftly,  or  without 
 abatements,  but  where  every  degree  of  the 
 thing  is  wrong,  where  every  indulgence 
 does  us  fome  hurt. 
 
 If  relio;ion  forbids  all  inllances  of  revenue 
 without  any  exception,  'tis  becaufe  all  revenge 
 is  of  the  nature  of  potfon:^  and  though  we 
 don't  take  fo  much  as  to  put  an  end  to  life, 
 yet  if  we  take  any  at  all,  it  corrupts  the  whole 
 mafs  of  blood,  and  makes  it  difficult  to  be 
 reftor'd  to  our  former  health. 
 
 If  religion  commands  an  unlverfal  charity ^ 
 to  love  our  neighbour  as  ourfelves,  to  forgive 
 and  pray  for  all  our  enemies  without  any  re- 
 ferve'^  'tis  becaufe  all  degrees  of  love  are  de- 
 grees of  happinefs,  that  ftrengthen  and  fup- 
 port  the  divine  life  of  the  Ibul,  and  are  as  ne- 
 cefTary  to  its  health  and  happinefs,  as  proper 
 food  is  neceflary  to  the  health  and  happinefs 
 of  the  body. 
 
 If  religion. has  laws  againft  laying  up  trea-^ 
 fures  upon  earthy  and  commands  us  to  be  con- 
 tent with  food  and  raiment;  'tis  becaufe  eve- 
 ry other  ufe  of  the  world  is  abafing  it  to  our 
 own  vexation,  and  turning  all  its  convenien- 
 cics  into  fnares  and  traps  to  deftroy  us.  'Tis 
 becaufe  this  plain nefs  ^ixid  JimpUctty  of  life,  fe- 
 curcs  us  fiom  the  cares  and  pains  of  reftlels 
 pride  and  envy,  and  makes  it  eafier  to  keep 
 that  ftrait  road  that  will  carry  us  to  eternal 
 life. 
 
 If 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      ij^ 
 
 If  religion  faith,  Sell  that  thou  hajl^  and 
 give  to  the  poor\  'tis  becaufe  there  is  no  other 
 natural  or  realbnable  ufe  of  our  riches,  no  o- 
 ther  way  of  making  ourielves  happier  for 
 them  ;  'tis  becaufe  it  is  as  firiBly  right  to  give 
 others  that  which  wc  do  not  want  ourfclves,  as 
 'tis  right  to  ufe  fo  much  as  our  own  wants  re- 
 quire. For  if  a  man  has  more  food  than  his 
 own  nature  requires,  how  bale  and  unreafon- 
 able  is  it,  to  myQntfooIiJh  ways  of  wafting  it, 
 and  make  fport  for  his  own  full  belly ^  rather 
 than  let  his  fellow-creatures  hare  the  lame 
 comfort  from  food,  which  he  hath  had.  It  is 
 fo  far  therefore  from  being  a  hard  law  of  reli- 
 gion, to  make  this  ufe  of  our  riches,  that  a 
 reafonable  man  would  rejoice  in  that  religion, 
 which  teaches  him  to  be  happier  in  that  which 
 he  gives  away,  than  in  that  wliich  he  keeps 
 for  himlelf ;  which  teaches  him  to  make  fpare 
 food  and  raiment  be  greater  bleffings  to  him, 
 than  that  which  feeds  and  cloaths  his  own 
 body. 
 
 If  religion  requires  us  fometimes  to  fajl^  and 
 deny  our  natural  appetites,  'tis  to  leffcn  that 
 ftruggle  and  war  that  is  in  our  nature  ^  'tis  to 
 render  our  bodies  fitter  inftruments  of  purity, 
 and  more  obedient  to  the  good  motions  of  di- 
 vine grace ;  'tis  to  dry  up  the  fprings  of  our 
 paliions  that  war  againft  the  Ibul,  to  cool  the 
 flame  of  our  blood,  and  render  the  mind  nv^rc 
 capable  of  divine  meditations.  So  that  al- 
 tho'  thefe  abftinences  give  fome  pain  to  the 
 body,   yet  they  fo  Itflen  the  power  of  bodily 
 
 N  a  appe- 
 
I  So  A  Serious  Call 
 
 appetites  and  pafiions,  and  lb  increafe  our 
 tafte  of  fpiritual  Joys,  that  even  thele  leveri- 
 ties  of  religion,  when  praftis'd  with  difcretion, 
 add  much  to  the  comfortable  enjoyment  of 
 our  jives. 
 
 If  religion  calleth  us  to  a  life  of  watching 
 and  prayer^  'tis  becaufe  we  live  amongft  a 
 crowd  of  enemies,  and  are  always  in  need  of 
 the  affiftance  of  God.  If  we  are  to  confcfs  and 
 bewail  our  fins,  'tis  becaufe  fuch  confeffions  re- 
 lieve the  mind,  and  reftore  it  to  eafe  *  as  bur- 
 dens  and  weights  taken  off  the  fhoulders,  relieve 
 the  body,  and  make  it  eafier  to  itfelf.  If  we 
 are  to  be  frequent  and  fervent  in  holy  petiti- 
 ons,, 'tis  to  keep  us  fteady  in  the  fight  of  our 
 true  good,  and  that  we  may  never  want  the 
 happinefs  of  a  lively  fiith,  a  joyful  hope,  and 
 well-grounded  truft  in  God.  If  we  are  to 
 pray  often,  'tis  that  we  may  be  often  happy 
 in  fuch  fecret  joys  as  only  prayer  can  give ;  in 
 fuch  communications  of  the  divine  prefence, 
 as  w^ill  fill  our  minds  with  all  the  happinefs, 
 that  beings  not  in  heaven  are  capable  of. 
 
 .Was  there,  any  thing  in  the  world  more 
 •worth  our  care,  was  there  any  exercife  of  the 
 mind,  or  any  converfation  with  men,  that 
 turned  more  to  our  advantage  than  this  inter- 
 courfe  with  God,  we  fliould  not  be  called  to 
 fuch  a  continuance  in  prayer.  But  if  a  man 
 confiders  what  it  is  that  he  leaves  when  he  re- 
 tires to  devotion,  he  will  find  it  no  fmall  hap- 
 pinels  to  be  lb  often  relieved  from  doing  no- 
 thingy  or  nothing  to  the  purpofej  from  dull 
 I  idle- 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       1 8 1 
 
 idlcnefs,  unprofitable  labour,  or  vain  conver- 
 fation.  If  he  confidcrs,  that  all  that  is  in  the 
 world,  and  all  that  is  doing  in  it,  is  only  for 
 the  body,  and  bodily  enjoyments,  he  will 
 have  realbn  to  rejoyce  at  thole  hours  of  prayer, 
 which  carry  him  to  higher  conlblations,  which 
 raife  him  above  thelc  poor  concerns,  which 
 open  to  his  mind  a  Icene  of  greater  things, 
 and  accuftom  his  foul  to  the  hope  and  expefta- 
 tion  of  them. 
 
 If  religion  commands  us  to  live  wholly  un- 
 to God,  and  to  do  all  to  his  glory,  'tis  becaufe 
 every  other  way,  is  living  wholly  againft  our 
 lelves,  and  will  end  in  our  own  fhame  and 
 confufion  of  face. 
 
 As  every  thing  is  dark^  that  God  does  not 
 enlighten  ;  as  every  thing  is fenfelefs^  that  has 
 not  its  fliare  of  knowledge  from  him  ;  as  no- 
 thing liveSj  but  by  partaking  of  life  from 
 him ;  as  nothing  exlfis^  but  becaufe  he  com- 
 mands it  to  be;  lb  there  is  no^^r)^,  or  great- 
 iiefs^  but  what  is  the  glory  or  greatnefs  of 
 God. 
 
 We  indeed  may  talk  of  human  glory ^  as  we 
 may  talk  of  human  Itfe^  or  human  knowledge  ; 
 but  as  w^e  are  lure  that  human  life  implies 
 nothing  of  our  own^  but  a  dependant  living 
 in  God,  or  enjoying  fb  much  life  in  God;  lb 
 human  glory,  whenever  we  find  it,  muft  be 
 only  lb  much  glory  as  we  enjoy  in  the  glory  of 
 God. 
 
 This  is  the  ftate  of  all  creatures,  whether 
 men  or  angels ;  as  they  make  not  themfelves, 
 
 N  3  lb 
 
igi  A  Serious  Call 
 
 fbthey  enjoy  nothing  fiom  themfelves  ;  if  they 
 are  great,  it  muft  be  only  as  great  receivers  of 
 the  gifts  of  God;  their  pozver  can  only  be  fo 
 much  of  the  divine  Power  afting  in  them; 
 their  wtfdom  can  be  only  fo  much  of  the  di- 
 vine Wildom  fhining  within  them,  and  their 
 light  and  glory ^  only  fo  much  of  the  light 
 and  glory  of  God  fnining  upon  them. 
 
 As  they  are  not  men  or  migels^  becaufe  they 
 had  a  mind  to  be  fo  themfelves,  but  becaufe 
 the  will  of  God  formed  them  to  be  wh?ct  they 
 are ;  fo  they  cannot  enjoy  this  or  that  happi- 
 nefs  of  men  or  angels,  becaufe  they  have  a 
 mind  to  it,  but  becaufe  it  is  the  will  of  God, 
 that  fuch  things  be  the  happinefs  of  men,  and 
 fuch  things  the  happinefs  of  angels.  But  now 
 if  God  be  thus  all  in  all ;  if  his  will  is  thus 
 the  meafure  of  all  things,  and  all  natures ;  if 
 nothing  can  be  done,  but  by  his  power;  if 
 nothing  can  be  feen,  but  by  alight  from  him  \ 
 if  we  have  nothing  to  fear,  but  from  his  ju- 
 frice;  if  we  have  nothing  to  hope  for,  but 
 from  his  goodnels;  if  this  is  the  nature  of  man^ 
 thus  helplefs  in  himfelf ;  if  this  is  the  ftate  of 
 ail  creatures,  as  well  thofe  in  heaven^  as  thole 
 on  earth ;  if  they  are  nothing,  can  do  nothing, 
 can  fuffer  no  pain,  nor  feel  any  happinefs,  but 
 fo  far,  and  in  luch  degrees,  as  the  power  of  God 
 does  all  this :  if  this  be  the  ftate  of  things, 
 then  how  can  we  have  the  leaft  glimpfe  of  joy 
 oi;'  comfort ,  how  can  we  have  any  peaceful  en- 
 joyment of  ourfelves,  but  by  living  wholly 
 uato  that  God^  ufing  and  doing  every  thing 
 
 conform* 
 
to  a  De'voHt  and  Holy  Life,        183 
 
 conformably  to  his  will  ?  A  life  thus  devoted 
 unto  God,  looking  wholly  unto  him  in  all 
 our  aftions,  and  doing  all  things  fuitably  to 
 his  glory,  is  fo  far  from  being  dull,  and  un- 
 comfortable, that  it  creates  new  comforts  in 
 every  thing  that  we  do. 
 
 On  the  contrary,  would  you  fee  how  happy 
 they  are  who  live  according  to  their  own 
 wills,  who  cannot  lubmit  to  the  dull  and  me- 
 hujcholy  bufinefs  of  a  life  devoted  unto  God ; 
 look  at  the  man  in  the  parable^  to  whom  his 
 Lord  had  given  one  talent? 
 
 He  could  not  bear  the  thoughts  of  ufing 
 his  talent  according  to  the  will  of  him  from 
 whom  he  had  it,  and  therefore  he  chofe  to 
 make  himfelf  happier  in  a  way  of  his  own. 
 Lordj  lays  he,  I  knew  thee^  that  thou  art  an 
 hard  man^  reaping  where  thou  had  ft  not  fowji^ 
 and  gathering  where  thou  hadfl  not  ftrawed. 
 And  I  was  afraid^  and  went  and  hid  thy  talent 
 in  the  earth,     Lo  there  thou  haft  Vhat  is  thine. 
 
 His  Lord  having  convided  him  out  of  his 
 
 own  mouth,  difpatches  him  with     ., 
 
 ,  .     ^  ^    /7    7       7  r       Mat.  XXV.  24. 
 
 this  lentence,  Caji  the  the  unproji-  ^ 
 
 table  fervant  into  outer  darknefs  ^  there  Jh all  be 
 
 weepings  and  gnajhing  of  teeth. 
 
 Here  you  fee  how  happy  this  man  made 
 
 himfelf  by  not  afting  wholly  according  to  his 
 
 Lord's   will.     It  was,    according  to  his  own 
 
 account,  a  happinefs  of  murmuring  and  dijcon-' 
 
 tent  ;  I  knew  thee,  fays  he,  that  thou  waft  an 
 
 hard  7nan\  It  was  an  happinefs  o^  fears  and 
 
 apprehenjions\  I  was, fays  he^  afraid'.  It  was 
 
 N  4  an 
 
184- 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 an  happinels  of  vara  labours  2inA  frnttlefs  tra^ 
 vails '.  I  zvent^  lays  he,  and  hid  thy  talent'^ 
 and  after  having  been  a  while  the  fport  of 
 foolifh  paffions,  tormenting  fears,  and  fmitlefs 
 labours,  he  is  rewarded  with  darknefs,  eternal 
 weeping  and  gnafliing  of  teeth. 
 
 Now  this  is  the  happinels  of  all  thofe,  who 
 look  upon  a  Pri3  and  exalted  piety,  that  is, 
 a  right  uie  of  their  talent,  to  be  a  dull  and 
 melancholy  ftate  of  life. 
 
 They  may  \\v<:  a  while  free  from  the  re- 
 ftraints  and  directions  of  Religion,  butinftead 
 thereof,  they  mull  be  under  the  ablurd  go- 
 vernment of  their  paffions :  They  muft  like 
 the  man  in  the  f arable^  live  in  marmur'tngSy 
 and  dl f contents y  in  fears  and  apprehenjjons. 
 They  may  avoid  the  labour  of  doing  good, 
 of  Ipending  their  time  devoutly,  of  laying 
 up  treafures  in  heaven,  of  cloathing  the  na- 
 ked, of  vifiting  the  fick;  but  then  they  muft, 
 like  this .  man,  have  labour s^  and  fains  in 
 vain,  that  tend  to  no  ufe  or  advantage,  that 
 do  no  good  either  to  themfelves,  or  others ; 
 they  muft  travail^  and  labour^  and  zvork^  and 
 dig  to  hide  their  talent  in  the  earth.  They 
 muft  like  him,  at  their  Lord's  coming,  be  con- 
 victed out  of  their  own  mouths,  ^  be  accused 
 by  their  own  hearts,  and  have  every  thing 
 that  they  have  laid  and  thought  of  Religion, 
 be  made  to  fhew  the  juftice  of  their  condem-e 
 nation  to  eternal  darknefs,  weeping  and 
 gnafhing  of  teeth. 
 
 This 
 
to  a  Devout  aud  Holy  Life.      185 
 
 This  is  the  purchafe  that  they  make,  who 
 avoid  theftridiiefs  and  pcrfedion  of  Rchgion^ 
 in  order  to  live  happily. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  would  you  fee  a  fhort 
 defcription  of  the  happinefs  of  a  Hfe  rightly 
 employed,  wholly  devoted  to  God,  you  mull 
 look  at  the  man  in  the  parable^  to  whom  his 
 Lord  had  given  five  talents.  Lon/,  lays  he, 
 thon  delivered  ft  unto  me  Jive  talents :  behold  I 
 have  gain'd  bejides  them  jive  talents  more.  His 
 Lord  Jaid  unto  bim^  zvell  done  thoa  good  and 
 
 faithful  Jerv  ant  '^  thou  ha  ft  been  faithful  over 
 a  jew  things^  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over  many 
 things  \  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord. 
 
 Here  you  fee  a  life  that  is  wholly  intent  up- 
 on the  improvement  of  the  talents,  that  is 
 devoted  wholly  unto  God,  is  a  ftate  of  hap- 
 pineis,  profperous  labours,  and  glorious  fuc- 
 cefs.  Here  are  not,  as  in  the  former  cafe,  any 
 mieajy  pafjions^    rnurmurings^    vain  fearsy    and 
 
 fruitlejs  labours.  The  man  is  not  toiling,  and 
 digging  in  the  earth  for  no  end  or  advantage ; 
 but  his  pious  labours  profper  in  his  hands,  his 
 happinefs  increafes  upon  him,  the  bleffing  of 
 live  becomes  the  bleffing  of  ten  talents ;  and 
 he  is  received  with  a  well  done  good  andjalthjul 
 
 fervanty  enter  thou  into  the  joy  oj  thy  Lord. 
 
 Now  as  the  cafe  of  thefe  men  in  the  para-- 
 bkj  left  nothing  elfe  to  their  choice,  but  either 
 to  be  happy  in  ufing  their  gifts  to  the  glory 
 of  the  Lord,  or  milerable  by  ufing  them  ac- 
 cording to  their  own  humours  and  fancies ;  ib 
 
 the 
 
1 8^  A  Serious  Call 
 
 the  Hate  of  Chriftianity  leaves  us   no  other 
 choice. 
 
 All  that  we  have,  all  that  we  are,  all  that 
 we  enjoy,  are  only  lb  many  talents  from 
 God :  if  we  ufe  them  to  the  ends  of  a  pious 
 and  holy  life,  our  live  talents  will  become  ten, 
 and  our  labours  will  carry  us  into  the  joy  of 
 our  Lord ;  but  if  we  abufe  them  to  the  grati- 
 fications of  our  own  paflions,  lacrificing  the 
 gifts  of  God  to  our  own  pride  and  vanity,  we 
 Ihall  live  here  in  vain  labours  and  foolifli 
 anxieties,  fhunning  Religion  as  a  melancholy 
 thing,  accufing  our  Lord  as  a  hard  mafter, 
 and  then  fall  into  everlafting  mifery. 
 
 We  may  for  a  while  amufe  our  ielves  with 
 names ^  ?LrA  founds^  3,ndJhadows  of  happinefs; 
 we  may  talk  of  this  or  that  greatnefs  and  dig- 
 nity^ but  if  we  defire  real  happinels,  we 
 have  no  other  poffible  way  to  it,  but  by  im- 
 proving our  talents,  by  ib  holily  and  pioufly 
 ufing  the  powers  3.nd  faculties  of  men  in  this 
 prefent  ftatc,  that  we  may  be  happy  and 
 glorious  in  the  powers  ^nd  factilfics  of  angels 
 in  the  world  to  come. 
 
 How  ignorant  therefore  are  they,  of  the 
 nature  of  Religion,  of  the  nature  of  man, 
 and  the  nature  of  God,  who  think  a  life  of 
 ftr'iB  piety  and  devotion  to  God,  to  be  a  dull 
 uncomfortahle  ftate ;  when  it's  fo  plain  and  cer- 
 tain, that  there  is  neither  comfort  or  joy  to 
 be  found  in  any  thing  elfe  ? 
 
 C  H  A  P. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       187 
 
 CHAP.    xir. 
 
 7'he  hupphiefs  of  a  Vife  wholly  devoted  unto  God^ 
 farther  frov'd^  from  the  vanity,  the  lenfaa- 
 Hty,  and  the  ridiculous,  poor  enjoy?nents^ 
 which  they  are  forced  to  take  up  iv'ith^  zvho 
 live  according  to  their  own  humours,  This 
 reprefented  In  various  chambers, 
 
 WE  may  ftill  fee  more  of  the  happinels 
 of  a  life  devoted  unto  God,  by  con- 
 fidcring  the  poor  contrivances  for  happinefs, 
 and  the  contemptible  ways  of  life,  which  they 
 are  thrown  into,  w  ho  are  not  under  the  dire- 
 (Sions  of  a  Uriel:  piety,  but  leeking  after  hap- 
 pinels by  other  methods. 
 
 If  one  looks  at  their  lives,  who  live  by 
 no  rule  but  their  own  humours  and  fancies  j 
 if  one  fees  but  what  it  is,  which  they  call  Joy ^ 
 3.nd  greatnef  J  and  happlncfs'^  if  one  fees  how 
 they  rejoice,  and  repent,  change  and  fly  from 
 one  delufion  to  another*  one  fhall  find  great 
 reaibn  to  rejoyce,  that  God  hath  appointed  a 
 Jiratght  and  narrow  w^ay,  that  Icadeth  unto 
 life,  and  that  we  are  not  left  to  the  folly  of 
 our  own  minds,  or  forc'd  to  take  up  with  luch 
 fhadows  of  joy  and  happinels,  as  the  wcak- 
 nefs  and  folly  of  the  world  has  invented.  1 
 fay  Invented^  becaufe  thofe  things  wliich  make 
 up  the  joy  and  happlnefs  of  the  world,  are 
 mere  Inventions^  which  haye  no  foundation  in 
 
 nature 
 
1 88  yi  Serious  Call 
 
 nature  and  reafbn,  arc  no  way  the  proper 
 good  or  happinels  of  man^  no  way  perfeft 
 cither  his  body,  or  his  mind,  or  carry  him  to 
 his  true  end. 
 
 As 'for  inftance,  when  a  man  propofes  to 
 be  happy  in  ways  of  ambition ^  by  raifing  him- 
 felf  to  Ibme  imaginary  heights  above  other 
 people ;  this  is  truly  an  invention  of  happinels 
 which  has  no  foundation  in  nature,  but  is  as 
 mere  a  cheat,  of  our  own  making,  as  if  a 
 man  Ihould  intend  to  make  himfclf  happy  by 
 climbing  up  a  ladder. 
 
 If  a  woman  leeks  for  happinefs  from  Jine 
 colours  or  J  pots  upon  her  face,  from  jewels  and 
 rich  cloaths^  this  is  as  merely  an  invention  of 
 happinels,  as  contrary  to  nature  and  reafon^ 
 as  if  Ihe  Ihould  propofe  to  make  her  felf  hap- 
 py, by  painting  a  foft^  and  putting  the  lame 
 finery  upon  it.  It  is  in  this  refpcd  that  I 
 call  theie  joys  and  happinels  of  the  world, 
 mere  inventions  of  happinels,  becaufe  neither 
 God  nor  nature,  nor  realbn,  hath  appointed 
 them  as  fuchj  but  whatever  appears  joyful, 
 or  great,  or  happy  in  them,  is  entirely  created 
 or  invented  by  the  blindnels  and  vanity  of 
 our  own  minds. 
 
 And  it  is  on  thefe  inventions  of  happinels, 
 that  I  delire  you  to  call  your  eye,  that  you 
 may  thence  learn,  \vo\yf  great  ^  ^y?c? J  Religion 
 is,  which  delivers  you  from  fuch  a  multitude 
 of  follies,  and  vain  purfuits,  as  are  the  tor- 
 ment and  vexation  of  minds,  that  wander 
 from  their  true  happinefs  in  God. 
 
 Look 
 
to  a  De^oHt  and  Holy  Life.      1 8p 
 
 Look  at  Flatus^  and  learn  how  mlfcrable 
 they  arc,  who  are  left  to  the  folly  of  their 
 own  paflions. 
 
 Flatus  is  rich  and  in  health,  yet  always  un- 
 eafy,  and  always  learching  after  happinefs. 
 Every  time  you  viflt  him,  you  find  Ibme 
 new  projed  in  his  head,  he  is  eager  upon  it 
 as  fomething  that  is  more  worth  his  while, 
 and  will  do  more  for  him,  than  any  thing 
 that  is  already  paft.  Every  new  thing  lb 
 leizcs  him,  that  if  you  was  to  take  him  from 
 it,  he  would  think  himfelf  quite  undone. 
 His  languine  temper,  and  ftrong  pailions, 
 promile  him  lb  much  happinefs  in  everything, 
 that  he  is  always  cheated,  and  is  latisfied 
 with   nothing. 
 
 At  his  firft  letting  out  in  life,  fne  cloaths 
 was  his  delight,  his  enquiry  was  only  after  the 
 beft  Baylors  and  ^eruke-inakers^  and  he  had 
 no  thoughts  of  excelling  in  any  thing  but 
 drefs.  He  Ipar'd  no  expence,  but  carry'd 
 every  nicety  to  its  greateft  height.  But  this 
 happinels  not  anlwering  his  expeftations,  he 
 left  off  his  Brocades^  put  on  a  plain  coat, 
 raird  at  fops  and  beaux ^  and  gave  himfelf  up 
 to  gaming  with  great  eagerneis. 
 
 This  new  plealure  latisfy'd  him  for  Ibme 
 time,  he  envy'd  no  other  way  of  life.  But 
 being  by  the  fate  of  flay  drawn  into  a  duel^ 
 where  he  narrowly  elcap'd  his  death,  he  left 
 off  the  dke^  and  fought  for  happinels  no  long- 
 er amongft  the  gamejhrs. 
 
 The 
 
ipo  A  Serious  Call 
 
 The  next  thing  that  feiz'd  his  vvandring 
 imagination,  was  the  divcrfions  of  the  town ; 
 and  for  more  than  a  twelvemonth,  you  heard 
 him  talk  of  nothing  but  Ladies^  Drawing-' 
 rcomsy  Birth'V'ights^  Vlays^  BaUs^  and  JJ/em- 
 Mies.  But  growing  fick  of  thefe,  he  had  re- 
 courfe  to  hard  drinking.  Here  he  had  many 
 a  merry  night,  and  met  with  ftronger  joys 
 than  any  he  had  felt  before.  Here  he  had 
 thoughts  of  fetting  up  his  ftaff,  and  looking 
 out  no  farther  ^  but  unluckily  falling  into  a 
 fever  y  he  grew  angry  at  all  ftrong  liquors, 
 and  took  his  leave  of  the  happinefs  of  being 
 drunk. 
 
 The  next  attempt  after  happinefs,  carry 'd 
 him  into  the  Jjeldy  for  two  or  three  years  no- 
 thing was  fo  happy  as  hunting*^  he  enter'd  up- 
 on it  with  all  his  foul,  and  leap'd  more  hedges 
 and  ditches  than  had  ever  been  known  in  lb 
 ll^ort  a  time.  You  never  faw  him  but  in  a 
 green  coat  j  he  was  the  envy  of  all  that  blow 
 the  horn^  and  always  fpoke  to  his  dogs  in 
 great  propriety  of  language.  If  you  met 
 him  at  home  in  a  bad  day,  you  would  hear 
 him  blow  his  horn,  and  be  entertained  with 
 the  furprizing  accidents  of  the  laft  noble  chafe. 
 No  fooncr  had  Flatus  outdone  all  the  w^orld  in 
 the  breed  and  education  of  his  dogs^  built 
 new  kennclsy  new  fables^  and  bought  a  new 
 hunting  feat^  but  he  immediately  got  fight  of 
 another  happinefs,  hated  the  fenfelefs  noife 
 and  hurry  of  hunting,  gave  away  his  dogs, 
 
 and 
 
to  a  Vc^oiit  and  Holy  Life.       1 9 1 
 
 and  was  for  fome  time  alter  deep  in  the  plea- 
 fares  of  building. 
 
 Now  he  invents  new  kinds  of  dove-cotes^ 
 and  has  fuch  contrivances  in  his  hams  and  fia^ 
 hles^  as  were  never  feen  before  :  He  wonders 
 at  the  dulnefs  of  the  old  builders,  is  wholly 
 bent  upon  the  improvement  of  Architeiiure^ 
 and  will  hardly  hang  a  door  in  the  ordinary 
 way.  He  tells  his  friends,  that  he  never  was 
 fo  delighted  in  any  thing  in  his  life;  that  he 
 has  more  happineis  amongft  his  brick  and 
 mcrter^  than  ever  he  had  at  court ;  and  that 
 he  is  contriving  how  to  have  fome  little  mat- 
 ter to  do  that  v/ay  as  long  as  he  lives. 
 
 The  next  year  he  leaves  his  houfe  unfi- 
 nifti'd,  complains  to  every  body  of  Mafons 
 and  Carpenters^  and  devotes  himfelf  wholly 
 to  the  happinefs  of  riding  about.  After  this, 
 you  can  never  fee  him  but  on  horfe-back^  and 
 1^0  highly  delighted  with  this  new  way  of  life, 
 that  he  would  tell  you  ,  give  him  but  his 
 horfe  and  a  clean  country  to  ride  in,  and  you 
 might  take  all  the  reit  to  your  felf  A  varie- 
 ty of  new  fuddles  and  bridles j  and  a  great 
 change  of  horfes,  added  much  to  the  pleafuie 
 of  this  new  way  of  life.  But  however,  ha- 
 ving after  fome  time  tir'd  both  himfelf  and  his 
 horfes,  the  happieft  thing  he  could  think  of 
 next,  was  to  go  abroad  and  vifit  foreign  coun-- 
 tries  \  and  there  indeed  happinefs  exceeded  his 
 imagination,  and  he  was  only  uncafy  that  he 
 had  begun  fo  fine  a  life  no  fooner.     The  next 
 
 month 
 
ip2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 month  he  returned  home,  vinable  to  bear  any- 
 longer  the  impertinence  o^  foreigners. 
 
 After  this,  he  was  a  gxQdit  Jiadent  for  one 
 whole  year  •  he  was  up  early  and  late  at  his 
 Italian  grammar^  that  he  might  have  the  hap- 
 pinefs  of  underftanding  the  opera^  whenever 
 he  fliould  hear  one,  and  not  be  like  thole  nn^ 
 reafonahle  people,  that  are  pleaied  with  they 
 don't  know  what. 
 
 Flatus  is  very  ill-natur'd,  or  otherwife,  juft 
 as  his  affairs  happen  to  be  when  you  vifit  him  \ 
 if  you  find  him  when  Ibme  projcft  is  almoft 
 wore  out ,  you  will  find  a  peevifh  ill-bred 
 man  •  but  if  you  had  feen  him  juft  as  he  en- 
 tered upon  his  riding  regimen^  or  begun  to  ex- 
 cel in  Ibunding  of  the  horn,  you  had  been  fa- 
 luted  with  great  civility. 
 
 Flatus  is  now  at  a  full  Hand,  and  is  doing 
 what  he  never  did  in  his  life  before,  he  is 
 reafomug  and  refleBtng  with  himfclf.  He 
 lofes  feveral  days,  in  confidering  which  of  his 
 caji'0ff\\'i\ys  of  life  he  fhould  try  again. 
 
 But  here  a  new  projeft  comes  into  his  relief. 
 He  is  now  living  upon  herhsy  and  running 
 about  the  country,  to  get  himfelf  into  as  good 
 wind  as  any  rumiing-footman  in  the  king- 
 dom. 
 
 I  have  been  thus  circumftantlal  in  fo  many 
 foolifn  particulars  of  this  kind  of  life,  becaufe 
 I  hope,  that  every  particular  folly  that  you 
 here  lee,  will  naturally  turn  it  lelf  into  an 
 argument  for  the  v/ifdom  and  happinefs  of  a 
 
 religious  life. 
 
 If 
 
to  a  T)e'vout  ajidHoly  Life.        1^5 
 
 if  I  could  lay  before  you  a  particular  ac- 
 count of  all  the  circumftances  of  terror  and 
 diftrefs,  that  daily  attend  a  life  at  Jea^  the 
 more  particular  I  was  in  the  account,  the 
 more  I  fhouJd  make  you  feel  and  rejoice  in 
 the  happinels  of  living  upon  the  /ciiicf. 
 
 In  like  manner,  the  more  I  enumerate  the 
 follies^  anxletiesy  dehjions^  and  reftlefs  defires 
 which  go  through  every  part  of  a  life  devoted 
 to  human  paffions,  and  worldly  enjoyments, 
 the  more  you  muft  be  affeded  with  that  peace, 
 and  reft,  and  loHd  content,  which  religion 
 gives  to  the  fouls  of  men. 
 
 If  you  but  juft  caft  your  eye  upon  a  mad" 
 mmiy  or  2ifool^  it  perhaps  fignilies  little  or  no- 
 1  hing  to  you ;  but  if  you  was  to  attend  them 
 for  Ibme  days,  and  obferve  the  lamentable 
 madnefs  and  ftupidity  of  all  their  actions,  this 
 would  be  an  affecting  fight,  and  would  make 
 you  often  blefs  your  felf  for  the  enjoyment  of 
 your  realbn  and  fenfes. 
 
 Juft  fo,  if  you  are  only  told  in  the  grofs, 
 of  the  folly  and  madnefs  of  a  life  devoted  to 
 the  world,  it  makes  little  or  no  impreffion  up- 
 on you  •  but  if  you  are  ftiown  how  fuch  peo- 
 ple live  every  day  5  if  you  lee  the  continual 
 folly  and  madnefs  of  all  their  particular  adi- 
 eus and  deligns,  this  would  be  an  affecting 
 fight,  and  make  you  blefs  God,  ibr  having 
 given  you  a  greater  happinels  to  afpire 
 after. 
 
 So  that  charatiers  of  this  kind,  the  more 
 folly  and  ridicule  they  have  in  them,    pro- 
 
 O  yided 
 
1^4-  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 vided  that  they  be  but  natural,  are  moft  ufe- 
 ful  to  correft  our  minds ;  and  therefore  are  no 
 where  more  proper  than  in  books  of  dero- 
 tion,  and  praftical  piety.  And  as  in  feveral 
 cafes,  we  bell  learn  the  nature  of  things,  by 
 looking  at  that  which  is  contrary  to  them;  fo 
 perhaps  we  bell  apprehend  the  ^;r^<?&;;<:j/  of  wil^ 
 dom,  by  contemplating  the  wild  extravagant 
 cles  of  folly. 
 
 I  Ihall  therefore  continue  this  method  a  lit- 
 tle farther,  and  endeavour  to  recommend  the 
 happinefs  of  piety  to  you ;  by  Ihewing  you  in 
 fome  other  inllances,  how  miferably  and  poor- 
 ly they  live,  who  live  without  it. 
 
 But  you  will  perhaps  fay,  that  the  ridicu- 
 lous, reftlefs  life  of  Flatusy  is  not  the  com- 
 mon Hate  of  thofe  who  refign  themfelves  up 
 to  live  by  their  own  humours,  and  negled 
 the  llrid  rules  of  religion ;  and  that  there- 
 fore it  is  not  lb  great  an  argument  of  the 
 happinefs  of  a  religious  life,  as  I  would 
 make  it. 
 
 I  anfwer,  that  I  am  afraid  it  is  one  of  the 
 moft  general  charaSters  in  life ;  and  that  few 
 people  can  read  it,  without  feeing  fomething 
 in  it  that  belongs  to  themfelves.  For  where 
 fliall  we  find  that  wife  and  happy  man,  who 
 has  not  been  eagerly  purfuing  different  ap- 
 pearances of  happinefs,  fometimes  thinking  it 
 was  here,  and  fometimes  there  ? 
 
 And  if  people  were  to  divide  their  lives 
 into  particular  ftages ,  and  ask  themfelves 
 what  they  were  purfuing,    or  what  it  was 
 
 which 
 
to  a  VevoHt  and  Holy  Life,      195 
 
 which  they  had  chiefly  in  view,  tv^hen  they 
 were  twenty  years  old,  what  at  twenty-jivey 
 what  at  thirty^  what  at  forty ^  what  at  fifty ^ 
 and  fo  on,  till  they  were  brought  to  their 
 laft  bed ;  numbers  of  people  would  find,  that 
 they  had  lik'd,  and  diflik'd,  and  purfu'd  as 
 many  different  appearances  of  happinefs,  as 
 are  to  be  feen  in  the  life  of  Flatus. 
 
 And  thus  it  muft  necelTarily  be,  more  or 
 lefs,  with  all  thole  who  propofe  any  other 
 happinefs,  than  that  which  arifes  from  a  ftrid: 
 and  regular  piety. 
 
 But  Secondly^  let  it  be  granted,  that  the 
 generality  of  people  are  not  of  fuch  reftlels, 
 fickle  tempers  as  Flatus ;  the  difference  then 
 is  only  this,  Flatus  is  continually  changing  and 
 trying  fomething  new,  but  others  are  content 
 with  fome  one  ftate ;  they  don't  leave  gaming^ 
 and  then  fall  to  hmiting.  But  they  have  lb 
 much  fieadinefs  in  their  tempers,  that  fome 
 feek  after  no  other  happinefs,  but  that  of 
 heaping  up  riches  *  others  grow  old  in  the 
 fports  of  the  field ;  others  are  content  to  drink 
 themfelves  to  death ,  without  the  leaft  en- 
 quiry after  any  other  happinefs. 
 
 Now  is  there  any  thing  more  happy  ^  ox 
 reafonabhj  in  fuch  a  life  as  this,  than  in  the 
 life  of  Flatus  ?  Is  it  not  as  great  and  defira- 
 ble,  as  wife  and  happy,  to  be  conftantly 
 changing  from  one  thing  to  another,  as  to  be 
 nothing  elfe  but  a  gatherer  of  money,  a  hunter y 
 a  game  fiery  or  a  drunkard^  all  your  life? 
 
 O  %  Shall 
 
1^6 
 
 A  Serious   Call 
 
 Shall  religion  be  looked  upon  as  a  burdenj 
 as  a  dull  and  melancholy  ftate,  for  calling  men 
 from  fuch  happhiefs  as  this,  to  live  according 
 to  the  laws  of  God,  to  labour  after  the  per- 
 feftion  of  their  nature,  and  prepare  them- 
 felves  for  an  endleis  ftate  of  joy  and  glory  in 
 the  prefence  of  God  ? 
 
 But  turn  your  eyes  now  another  way,  and 
 let  the  trifling  joys  ^  the  giigaw-happinejs  of 
 Feliciana^  teach  you  how  wile  they  are,  what 
 delufion  they  elcape,  whole  hearts  and  hopes 
 are  fixed  upon  an  happinefs  in  God. 
 
 If  you  was  to  live  with  Feliciana  but  one 
 half  year,  you  would  fee  all  the  happinefs 
 that  Ihe  is  to  have  as  long  as  ftie  lives.  She 
 has  no  more  to  come,  but  the  poor  repeti- 
 tion of  that  which  could  never  have  pleas'cl 
 once,  but  through  a  littlenefs  of  mind,  and 
 want  of  thought. 
 
 She  is  to  be  again  drefs'd  fine,  and  keep  her 
 Yifiting-day.  She  is  again  to  change  the  co- 
 lour of  her  cloathsj  again  to  have  a  new 
 heady  and  again  put  patches  on  her  face.  She 
 is  again  to  fee  who  ads  beft  at  the  play-houfe^ 
 and  who  fings  fineft  at  the  opera.  She  is  again 
 to  make  ten  vifits  in  a  day,  and  be  ten  times 
 in  a  day  trying  to  talk  artfully,  eafily  and 
 politely  about  nothing. 
 
 She  is  to  be  again  delighted  with  fome  new 
 fafhion;  and  again  angry  at  the  change  of 
 fome  old  one.  She  is  to  be  again  at  cards, 
 and  gaming  at  midnight,  and  again  in  bed 
 at  noon.  She  is  to  be  agai;^  pleased  with  hypo- 
 critical 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        i^y 
 
 critical  comp]lmcnts,aiid  again  difturby  at  ima- 
 ginary affronts.  She  is  to  be  again  pleas'd  with 
 her  good  luck  at  gaming,  and  again  torment- 
 ed with  the  lols  of  her  money.  She  is  again 
 to  prepare  her  felf  for  a  birth-night ;  and 
 again  lee  the  town  full  of  good  company. 
 She  is  again  to  hear  the  cabals  and  intrigues 
 of  the  town;  again  to  have  fecret  intelligence 
 of  private  amours,  and  early  notice  of  mar- 
 riages, quarrels,  and  partings. 
 
 If  you  fee  her  come  out  of  her  chariot  more 
 briskly  than  ufual,  converfe  with  more  fpirit, 
 and  feem  fuller  of  joy  than  flie  was  laft  week, 
 It  is  becaufe  there  is  Ibme  liirprizing  new 
 drefs,  or  new  diverfion  juft  come  to  town. 
 
 Thefe  are  all  the  Jkh/fantial  and  regular 
 parts  of  Felktana's  happinefs ;  and  flie  never 
 knew  a  plealant  day  in  her  life,  but  it  was 
 owing  to  Ibme  one ,  or  more ,  of  thefe 
 things. 
 
 It  is  for  this  happinefs,  that  fhe  has  always 
 been  deaf  to  the  reafonings  of  religion,  that 
 her  heart  has  been  too  gay  and  chearful  to 
 confider  what  is  right  or  wrongs  in  regard  to 
 eternity ;  or  to  liften  to  the  found  of  liich 
 dull  words,  as  wlfdom^  piety ^  and  devotion. 
 
 It  is  for  fear  of  lofing  Ibme  of  this  happi* 
 nefs,  that  Ihe  dares  not  meditate  on  the  im- 
 mortality of  her  foul,  confider  her  relation 
 to  God,  or  turn  her  thoughts  towards  thofp 
 joys ,  which  make  Saints  and  Angels  zn»- 
 linitely  happy  in  the  prefence  aad  glory  of 
 God, 
 
 O  3  But 
 
Ip8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 But  now  let  it  here  be  obferv'd,  that  as 
 poor  a  round  of  happinels  as  this  appears,  yet 
 moft  women  that  avoid  the  reftraints  of  reli- 
 gion for  a  gay  life,  muft  be  content  with  very 
 fmall  parts  of  it.  As  they  have  not  FeUclafia'^ 
 fortune  and  figure  in  the  world,  fo  they  muft 
 give  away  the  comforts  of  a  pious  life,  for  a 
 very  fmail  part  of  her  happinels. 
 
 And  if  you  look  into  the  world,  and  ob- 
 ferve  the  lives  oi  thole  women,  whom  no 
 arguments  can  perluade  to  live  wholly  unto 
 God,  in  a  wife  and  pious  employment  of 
 themfelves,  you  will  find  moft  of  them  to  be 
 fuch,  as  lofe  all  the  comforts  of  religion , 
 without  gaining  the  tenth  part  of  Feliciana's 
 happinefs.  They  are  liich  as  Ipend  their  time 
 and  fortunes  only  in  mimicking  the  pleafures 
 of  richer  people  ;  and  rather  look  and  long 
 after,  than  enjoy  thole  delufions,  which  are 
 only  to  be  purchased  by  confiderable  for- 
 tunes. 
 
 But  if  a  woman  of  high  birth,  and  great 
 fortune,  having  read  the  Gofpel,  lliould  ra- 
 ther wifli  to  be  an  under  fervant  in  fome  pious 
 family,  where  wifdom,  piety,  and  great  de- 
 votion, direded  all  the  actions  of  every  day ; 
 if  fhe  Ihould  rather  wifti  this,  than  to  live  at 
 the  top  of  Feliciana's  happinefs;  I  fliould 
 think  her  neither  mad^  nor  melancholy  \  but 
 that  ihe  judg'd  as  rightly  of  the  fpirit  of  the 
 Gofpel,  as  if  ftie  had  rather  wifh'd  to  be  poor 
 Lcizarus  at  t^e  gate^  than  to  be  the  rich  man 
 
 cloatb'4 
 
to  a  TlezfoHt  and  Holy  Life.       1^9- 
 
 ckath'd  in  purple  and  Jine  Iin7ie7i^  and  faring 
 fumptuGiifly  every  day. 
 
 But  to  proceed ;  would  you  know  what  an 
 happincfs  it  is,  to  be  govern'd  by  the  wildom 
 of  rehgion,  and  be  devoted  to  the  joys  and 
 hopes  of  a  pious  hfe,  look  at  the  poor  con- 
 dition of  Sulcus^  whole  greateft  happinefs,  is 
 a  good  nights  reft  in  bed,  and  a  good  nical  when 
 he  is  up.  When  he  talks  of  happinefs,  it  is 
 always  in  fuch  expreffions,  as  Ihews  you,  that 
 he  has  only  his  b^d  and  his  dinner  in  his 
 thoughts. 
 
 This  regard  to  his  meals  and  repofe^  makes 
 Sticcas  order  all  the  reft  of  his  time  with  rela- 
 tion to  them.  He  will  undertake  no  bufinefs 
 that  may  hurry  his  fpirits,  or  break  in  upon 
 his  hours  of  eating  and  reft.  If  he  reads,  it 
 ftiall  only  be  for  half  an  hour,  becaufe  that 
 is  fufEcient  to  amuie  the  fpirits;  and  he  will 
 read  fomething  that  may  make  him  laugh, 
 as  rendering  the  body  fitter  for  its  food  and 
 reft.  Or  if  he  has  at  any  time  a  mind  to 
 indulge  a  grave  thought,  he  always  has  re- 
 courle  to  a  ufeful  treatife  upon  the  anticnt 
 cookery.  Succus  is  an  enemy  to  all  party-mat^ 
 tersy  having  made  it  an  obiervation ,  that 
 there  is  as  good  eating  amongft  the  prhigSy  as 
 the  Tories, 
 
 He  talks  cooly  and  moderately  upon  all 
 fubjefts,  and  is  as  fearful  of  falling  into  a 
 paffion,  as  of  catching  cold ;  being  very  pofi- 
 tive,  that  they  are  both  equally  injurious  to 
 the  Jiormch,    If  ever  you  fee  him  more  hot 
 
 O  4  tli^a 
 
aoo  A  Serious   Call 
 
 than  ordinary,  it  is  upon  fome  provoking  oc- 
 cafion,  when  the  difpute  about  cookery  runs 
 very  high,  or  in  the  defence  of  fome  beloved 
 dilh,  which  has  often  made  him  happy.  But 
 he  has  been  lb  long  upon  thefe  fubjeds,  is  fo 
 well  acquainted  v/ith  all  that  can  be  laid  on 
 both  fides,  and  has  ib  often  anfwer'd  all  obje- 
 dions,  that  he  generally  decides  the  matter 
 with  great  gravity. 
 
 Siiccus  is  very  loyal,  and  as  loon  as  ever  he 
 likes  any  wine,  he  drinks  the  king's  health 
 with  all  his  heart.  Nothing  could  put  rebel- 
 lious thoughts  into  his  head,  unlefs  he  fhould 
 live  to  fee  a  Proclamation  againft  eating  of 
 ^heafanfs  eggs. 
 
 All  the  hours  that  are  not  devoted  either 
 to  refofe^  or  notinfiment^  are  look'd  upon  by 
 Succus  as  wafte  oxjpare  time.  For  this  reafou 
 he  lodges  near  a  coffee-houfe  and  a  tavern^  that 
 when  he  rifes  in  the  morning  he  may  be  near 
 the  nezvs^  and  when  he  parts  at  night,  he  may 
 not  have  far  to  bed.  In  the  morning  you  al- 
 w^ays  fee  him  in  the  fame  place  in  the  coffee- 
 roGMj  and  if  he  feems  more  attentively  en- 
 gaged than  ordinary,  it  is  becaufe  fome  crimi-' 
 nal  is  broke  out  of  Newgate^  or  fome  Lady 
 was  robb'd  laft  night,  but  they  can't  tell  where. 
 When  he  has  learnt  all  that  he  can,  he  goes 
 home  to  fettle  the  matter  with  the  Barber's 
 boy,  that  comes  to  Ihave  him. 
 
 The  next  wade-time  that  lyes  upon  his 
 hands,  is  from  dinner  to  llipper.  And  if  me- 
 lancholy thoughts  ever  cpme  into  his  head,  it 
 
 is 
 
to  a  Tlc'vout  and  Holy  ^ifc.  10 1 
 
 Is  at  this  time,  when  he  is  often  left  to  him- 
 felf  for  an  hour  or  more,  and  that  after  the 
 greateft  pleafure  he  knows  is  juft  over.  He  is 
 afraid  to  flcep,  becaule  he  has  heard,  it  is  not 
 healthful  at  that  time,  lb  that  he  is  forced  to 
 refufe  ^o  welcome  a  gueft. 
 
 But  here  he  is  foon  relieved  by  a  fettl'd 
 method  of  playing  at  cards,  till  it  is  time 
 to  think  of  fome  little  nice  matter  for  lup- 
 per. 
 
 After  this,  Succus  takes  his  glafs,  talks  of 
 the  excellency  of  the  EngTiJIo  conflitutlon,  and 
 praifes  that  Mlnljier  the  moft^  who  keeps  the 
 bcft  table. 
 
 On  a  Sunday  night  you  may  fometimes  hear 
 him  condemning  the  iniquity  of  the  town 
 rakes ;  and  the  bittereft  thing  that  he  fays  a- 
 gainft  them,  is  this,  that  he  verily  believes, 
 Ibme  of  them  are  fo  abandoned,  as  not  to 
 have  a  regular  raeal^  or  -x  found  nights  fleep  in 
 a  week. 
 
 At  eleven  Succus  bids  all  good  night,  and 
 parts  in  great  friendlhip.  He  is  preiently  in 
 bed ,  and  fleeps  till  it  is  time  to  go  to  the 
 coffee  houfe  next  morning. 
 
 If  you  was  to  live  with  Succus  for  a  twelve- 
 month, this  is  all  that  you  would  fee  in  his 
 life,  except  a  few  curfes  and  oaths  that  he 
 ufes  as  occafion  offers. 
 
 And  now  I  cannot  help  making  this  Re- 
 fledion: 
 
 That  as  I  believe  the  moft  likely  means 
 ii>  the  world  to  inipire  a  perfou  with  true  pie- 
 
a02  A  Serious  Call 
 
 ty,  was  to  have  feen  the  example  of  fome 
 eminent  profefTor  of  Religion;  fo  the  next 
 thing  that  is  likely  to  fill  one  with  the  fame 
 zeal,  is  to  fee  the  folly ^  the  hafenefs^  and  poor 
 fatisfadions  of  a  life  deftitute  of  ReHgion. 
 As  the  one  excites  us  to  love  and  admire  the 
 wifdom  and  greatnefs  of  Religion,  fo  the  o- 
 ther  may  make  us  fearful  of  living  without 
 it. 
 
 For  who  can  help  bleffing  God  for  the  means 
 of  grace ^  and  for  the  hope  of  glory  ^  when  he 
 fees  what  variety  of  folly  they  fink  into,  who 
 live  without  it  ?  Who  would  not  heartily  en- 
 gage in  all  the  labours  and  exercifes  of  a  pi- 
 ous life,  be  fledfajl^  immoveable^  and  ahvays 
 ahoundlng  In  the  work  of  the  Lord:,  when  he 
 fees,  what  dull  fenfuality,  what  poor  views, 
 what  grofs  enjoyments  they  are  left  to, 
 who   feek   for  happinefs  in  other  ways. 
 
 So  that  whether  we  confider  the  greatnefs 
 of  Religion,  or  the  littlenefs  of  all  other 
 things,  and  themeannefs  of  all  other  enjoy- 
 ments, there  is  nothing  to  be  found  in  the 
 w^hole  nature  of  things,  for  a  thoughtful 
 mind  to  refl:  upon,  but  a  happinefs  in  the 
 hopes  of  Religion, 
 
 Confider  now  with  your  felf  how  unrea* 
 fonably  it  is  pretended,  that  a  life  oi  flriB 
 piety,  muft  be  a  dull  2ind  anxious  ftate?  For 
 can  it  with  any  reafon  be  faid,  that  the  duties 
 and  reftraints  of  Religion  muft  render  our 
 lives  heavy  and  melancholy,  when  they  only 
 a  deprive 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       203 
 
 deprive   us   of  fuch   happinefs,  as   has  been 
 here  laid  before  you  ? 
 
 Mutt  it  be  tedious  and  tircfome  to  live  ia 
 the  continual  exercife  of  charity,  devotion 
 and  temperance,  to  aft  wifely  and  virtuoufly, 
 to  do  good  to  the  utmott  of  your  power,  to 
 imitate  the  divine  perfcftions,  and  prepare 
 your  felf  for  the  enjoyment  of  God  ?  Muft  it 
 be  dull  and  tirefome,  to  be  delivered  from 
 blindnefs  and  vanity,  from  falie  hopes,  and 
 vain  fears,  to  improve  in  holinefs,  to  feel  the 
 comforts  of  confcience  in  all  your  aftions,  to 
 know  that  God  is  your  friend,  that  all  mult 
 work  for  your  good,  that  neither  life  nor 
 death,  neither  men  nor  devils  can  do  you  any 
 harm ;  but  that  all  your  fufferings  and  doing^-J" 
 that  are  offer  ci  unto  God,  all  your  watchings 
 and  prayers,  and  labours  of  love  and  charity, 
 all  your  improvements,  are  in  a  Ihort  time  to 
 be  rewarded  with  everlafting  glory  in  the  pre- 
 fence  of  God ;  muft  liich  a  ftate  as  this  be 
 dtill  and  tirefome^  for  want  of  fuch  happinefs, 
 as  Flatus  or  Feliciana  enjoys  ? 
 
 Now  if  this  cannot  be  faid,  then  there  is 
 no  happinefs,  or  pleaf  are  loft,  by  being  ftridly 
 pious,  nor  has  the  devout  man  any  thing  to 
 envy  in  any  other  ftate  of  life.  For  all  the 
 art  and  contrivance  in  the  world,  without 
 Relig?on,  cannot  make  more  of  human  life, 
 or  carry  its  happinefs  to  any  greater  height, 
 than  Flatus  or  Feliciana  have  done. 
 
 The  fineft  wit^  the  greateft  genius  upon 
 earthy  if  not  goyern'd  by  Religion,  muft  be  as 
 
 foolifi 
 
2  04  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 fool'ifi^  and  low  and  vain  in  his   methods  of 
 happinels,  2.szhefoor  Sucais. 
 
 If  you  was  to  fee  a  man  dully  endeavouring 
 all  his  life  to  fatisfy  his  thirft,  by  holding  up 
 one  and  the  fame  emfty  cup  to  his  mouth, 
 you  would  certainly  defpife  his  ignorance. 
 
 But  if  you  ftiould  fee  others  of  hnghter 
 parts  J  -acaA.  finer  tinderfiandtngs^  ridiculing  the 
 dull  fatisfadion  oS.  one  cup^  and  thinking -to 
 fatisfy  their  own  thirft  by  a  variety  of  gilt 
 and  golden  empty  cups ;  would  you  think 
 that  thefe  were  ever  the  wtfer^  or  happier^  or 
 better  employed,  for  th^h finer  parts'^. 
 
 Now  this  is  all  the  difference  that  you  can 
 fee  Jn  the  happinels  of  this  life. 
 
 The  dull  and  heavy  foul,  may  be  content 
 ■with  one  empty  appearance  of  happinels,  and 
 be  continually  trying  to  hold  one  and  Xh^fame 
 empty  cup  to  his  mouth  ail  his  life.  But  then, 
 let  the  w/V,  thQ  great  fcholarj  the  fine  genius  j 
 the  grc^tfiatefimanj  the  polite  gentlemanj  lay 
 all  their  heads  together,  and  they  can  only 
 fliew  you,  more^  and  various^  empty  appearand 
 ces  of  happinefs;  give  them  all  the  world  into 
 their  hands,  let  them  cut  and  carve  as  they 
 pleafe,  they  can  only  make  a  greater  variety 
 of  empty  cups. 
 
 So  that  if  you  don't  think  it  hard  to  be  de- 
 prived of  the  pleafures  of  gluttony  for  the 
 lake  of  Religion,  you  have  no  realbri  to  think 
 it  hard  to  be  reftrain'd  from  any  other  worldly 
 pleafure.  For  fearch  as  deep,  and  look  as  far 
 as  you  will,  there  is  nothing  hereto  be  found^ 
 
 tl^t 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  205 
 
 that  is  uohleKj  or  greater^  than  high  eating 
 and  drinking,  unlels  you  look  for  it  in  the 
 wifdom  and  laws  of  Religion. 
 
 And  if  all  that  is  in  the  world,  are  only  fb 
 many  empty  cnps^  what  does  it  fignify,  whieh 
 you  take,  or  how  many  you  take,  or  how 
 many  you  have  ? 
 
 If  you  would  but  ufe  your  lelf  to  luch  me- 
 ditations as  thefe,  to  rifled  upon  the  vanity 
 of  all  orders  of  life  without  piety,  to  confider 
 how  all  the  ways  of  the  world,  are  only  fo 
 many  different  ways  of  error,  blindnefs,  and 
 miftake;  you  would  foon  find  your  heart 
 made  wifer  and  better  by  it.  Thefe  medita- 
 tions would  awaken  your  foul  into  a  zealous 
 defirc  of  that  Iblid  happincfs,  which  is  only  to 
 be  found  in  recourie  to  God. 
 
 Examples  of  great  piety  are  not  now  com- 
 mon in  the  world,  it  may  not  be  your  hap- 
 pinefs  to  live  within  fight  of  any,  or  to  have 
 your  virtue  inflam'd  by  their  light  and  fer- 
 vour. But  the  mifery  and  tolly  :^  worldly 
 men,  is  what  mieets  your  eye:  in  every  place, 
 and  you  need  not  look  far  to  fee,  how  poorly, 
 how  vainly  men  dream  away  their  lives  for 
 want  of  religious  wildom. 
 
 This  is  the  realbn  that  I  have  laid  before 
 yon  fo  many  charafters  of  the  vanity  of  a 
 worldly  life,  to  teach  you  to  make  a  benefit 
 of  the  corruption  of  the  age,  and  that  you 
 may  be  made  wife,  tho'  not  by  the  fight  of 
 what  piety  is,  yet  by  feeing  what  mifery  and 
 folly  reigns,  where  piety  is  not. 
 
 If 
 
Qo6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 If  you  would  turn  your  mind  to  fuch  re- 
 flections as  thefc,  your  own  obicrvation  would 
 carry  this  inftruftion  much  farther,  and  all 
 your  converfation  and  acquaintance  with  the 
 world,  would  be  a  daily  conviftion  to  you,  of 
 the  ncceffity  of  fceking  Ibme  greater  happi- 
 nefs,  than  all  the  poor  enjoyments  of  this 
 world  can  give. 
 
 To  meditate  upon  the  perfedion  of  the 
 divine  attributes,  to  contemplate  the  glories 
 of  Heaven,  to  coniider  the  joys  of  Saints  and 
 Angels  living  for  ever  in  the  brightnefs  and 
 glory  of  the  divine  prefence;  thefe  are  the 
 meditations  of  fouls  advanced  in  piety,  and 
 not  ib  fuited  to  every  capacity. 
 
 But  to  Ice  and  confider  the  emptinefs  and 
 
 error  of  all  w^orldly   happinefs*  to   fee   the 
 
 grofsnejs  of  fenfuality,  the  poornefs  of  pride, 
 
 the  Jiupidity  of  covetoufnels,   the  vanity  of 
 
 drefs,  the  delujion  of  honour,  the  hVtndnefs  of 
 
 our  paffions,  the  uncertamty  of  our  lives,  and 
 
 the  Jhortnefs   of  all  worldly   projects;    thefe 
 
 are  meditations  that  are  fuited  to  all  capacities, 
 
 fitted  to   ftrike  all  minds;  they  require  no 
 
 depth  of  thought,    or   fublime  fpeculation, 
 
 but  are  forc'd  upon  us  by  all  our  fenfes,  and 
 
 taught  us  by  almoft  every  thing  that  we  fee 
 
 and  hear. 
 
 ^         ...  This  is  that  wlfdom  that  crieth^ 
 
 Prov.  vm.  I.  ,  7    /-      7     7  •      •        1 
 
 and  putt eth  port h  her  voice  \\\  the 
 
 ftreets,  that  ftandeth  at  all  our  doors,  that  ap- 
 
 pealeth  to  all  our  fenfes,  teaching  us  in  every 
 
 thing  and  eyery  where,  by  all  that  we  fee  and  all 
 
 that 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      207 
 
 that  we  hear,  by  births  and  burials,  by  fick- 
 nefs  and  health,  by  life  and  death,  by  pains 
 and  poverty,  by  mifery  and  vanity,  and  by 
 all  the  changes  and  chances  of  life;  that 
 there  is  nothing  elfe  for  man  to  look  after, 
 no  other  end  in  nature  for  him  to  drive  at, 
 but  a  happinefs  which  is  only  to  be  found  in 
 the  hopes  and  expeftations  of  Religion. 
 
 CHAP.    XIII. 
 
 That  not  only  a  life  of  vanity,  or  fenfuality, 
 but  even  the  moft  regular  kind  of  llfe^  that 
 is  not  governed  by  great  devotion^  fufficlently 
 fhews  its  miferies,  its  wants,  and  empti- 
 nefs  to  the  eyes  of  all  the  world.  This 
 reprefented  in  various  charaBers. 
 
 IT  is  a  very  remarkable  faying  of  our  Lord 
 and  Saviour  to  his  difciples  in  thefe  words : 
 Bleffed  are  your  eyes^  for  they  fee^  and  your 
 ears^  for  they  hear.  They  teach  us  two  things : 
 Flrfi^  That  the  dulnefs  and  heavlnefs  of  mens 
 minds  with  regard  to  fpiritual  matters,  is  lb 
 great,  that  it  may  juftly  be  compared  to  the 
 w^ant  of  eyes  and  ears. 
 
 Secondly^  That  God  has  fo  fiU'd  every  thing 
 and  every  flace  with  motives  and  arguments 
 for  a  godly  life,  that  they  who  are  but  fo 
 
 blefs'd 
 
Qo8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 blclVd,  fo  happy  as  to  ufe  their  eyes  and  their 
 cars,  mull  needs  be  afFeded  with  them. 
 
 Now  though  this  was  in  a  more  elpecial 
 manner,  the  cafe  of  thofe  whofe  fenfes  were 
 witneffes  of  the  life  and  miracles  and  doctrines 
 of  our  bleffed  Lord,  yet  is  it  as  truly  the  calc 
 of  all  Chriftians  at  this  time.  For  the  rea- 
 Ions  of  Religion,  the  calls  to  piety,  arc  fo 
 written  and  engrav'd  upon  every  thing,  and 
 prefent  themfelves  fo  ftrongly,  and  fo  con- 
 ftantly  to  all  our  fenfes  in  every  thing  that  we 
 meet ;  that  they  can  only  be  difregarded  by 
 eyes  that  lee  not,  and  ears  that  hear  not. 
 
 What  greater  motive  to  a  religious  life, 
 than  the  vanity^  the  foornejs  of  all  worldly 
 enjoyments?  And  yet  who  can  help  feeing 
 and  feeling  this  every  day  of  his  life? 
 
 What  greater  call  to  look  towards  God, 
 than  the  pains,  the  ficknefs,  the  croffes^  and 
 vexations  of  this  life;  and  yet  whofe  eyes  and 
 ears  are  not  daily  witneffes  of  them  ? 
 
 What  fniracles  could  more  ftrongly  appeal 
 to  our  fenfes,  or  what  meffage  from  heaven 
 Ipeak  louder  to  us,  than  the  dally  dying  and 
 departure  of  our  fellow  creatures  does  ? 
 
 So  that  the  one  thing  needful,  or  the  great 
 end  of  life,  is  not  left  to  be  difcover'd  by  fine 
 reafoning,  and  deep  reflexions ;  but  is  prels'd 
 upon  us  in  the  plaineft  manner,  by  the  expe- 
 rience of  all  our  fenfes,  by  every  thing  that 
 we  meet  with  in  life. 
 
 Let  us  but  intend  to  fee  and  hear^  and 
 then  the  whole  world  becomes  a  book  of  wil- 
 
 dom 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life,      2  op 
 
 dom  and  inftru^lion  to  us  ;  all  that  is  regular 
 in  the  order  of  natiuCj  all  that  is  acndentjl 
 xvl  the  courfe  of  things,  all  the  millakes  and 
 difappointments  that  happen  to  our  ielyes,  all 
 the  miferies  and  errors  that  we  lee  in  other 
 people ;  become  fo  many  plain  leflbns  of  ad- 
 vice to  us ;  teaching  us  with  as  much  afTurancc 
 as  an  Angel  from  Heaven,  that  we  can  no 
 ways  raife  our  felvcs  to  any  true  happineis, 
 but  by  turning  all  our  thoughts^  our  wifhes, 
 and  endeavours,  after  the  happinefs  of  another 
 life. 
 
 It  is  this  right  ufe  of  the  world,  that  I 
 would  lead  you  into,  by  directing  you  to  turn 
 your  eyes  upon  every  fhape  of  human  folly, 
 that  you  may  thence  draw  frelh  arguments 
 and  motives  of  living  to  the  beft  and  greatcft 
 purpofes  of  your  creation. 
 
 And  if  you  would  but  carry  this  intention 
 about  you,  of  profiting  by  the  follies  of  the 
 world,  and  of  learning  the  greatnefs  of  Re- 
 ligion, from  the  Uttlenefs  and  vanity  of  every 
 other  way  of  life;  if  I  fay,  you  would  but 
 carry  this  intention  in  your  mind,  you  would 
 find,  every  day,  every  place,  and  every  pcrfon, 
 a  frefh  proof  of  their  wifdom,  who  chule  to 
 live  wholly  unto  God.  You  would  then  oft- 
 en return  home,  the  wifer^^  the  better,  and 
 the  more  ftrengthen'd  m  Religion,  by  every 
 thing  that  has  fallen  in  your  way, 
 
 Odavhis  is  a  learned,  ingenious  man,  well 
 vers'd  in  moft  parts  of  literature,  and  no 
 ftranger  to  any  kingdom  in  Europe,     The  o- 
 
 P  thee 
 
aio  A  Serious  Call 
 
 ther  day,  being  juft  recovered  from  a  lin- 
 gring  fever  J  he  took  upon  him  to  talk  thus  to 
 his  friends. 
 
 My  gl^Jij  f^ys  he,  is  almoft  run  out ;  and 
 your  eyes  fee  how  many  marks  of  age  and 
 death  I  bear  about  me :  But  I  plainly  feel  my 
 lelf  finking  away  fafter  than  any  ftanders-by 
 imagine.  I  fully  believe,  that  one  year  more 
 wii]  Conclude  my  reckoning. 
 
 The  attention  of  his  friends  was  much  rais'd 
 by  fuch  a  declaration,  expefting  to  hear  fome- 
 thing  truly  excellent  from  fo  learned  a  man, 
 who  had  but  a  year  longer  to  live.  When 
 OBavius  proceeded  in  this  manner  :  For  thele 
 reafons,  fays  he,  my  friends,  I  have  left  off 
 all  taverns^  the  wine  of  thole  places  is  not 
 good  enough  for  me  in  this  decay  of  nature. 
 I  muft  now  be  nice  in  what  I  drink;  I  can't 
 pretend  to  do,  as  I  have  done  ;  and  therefore 
 amrelblved  to  furnifh  my  own  cellar  with  a 
 little  of  the  very  belt,  tho'  it  coft  me  ever  fo 
 much. 
 
 I  muft  alfo  tell  you,  my  friends,  that  age 
 forces  a  man  to  be  wife  in  many  other  re- 
 fpects,  and  makes  us  change  many  of  our  opi- 
 nions and  praftices. 
 
 You  know  how  much  I  have  lik'd  a  large 
 acquaintance ;  I  now  condemn  it  as  an  error. 
 Three  or  four  chearful^  diverting  companions^  is 
 all  that  I  now  defire :  becaufe  I  find,  that  in 
 my  prefent  infirmities,  if  I  am  left  alone^  or 
 to  grave  company,  I  am  not  lO  eafy  to  my- 
 felf 
 
 A  few 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life,      a  1 1 
 
 A  few  days  after  OBavius  had  made  this 
 declaration  to  his  friends,  he  relapfed  into  his 
 former  illnefs,  was  committed  to  a  nurje^  who 
 closed  his  eyes,  before  his  frelh  parcel  of  wine 
 came  in. 
 
 Young  Eugentus^  who  was  prefent  at  this 
 difcourfe,  went  home  a  new  man,  w^ith  full 
 refolutions  of  devoting  himfelf  wholly  unto 
 God. 
 
 I  never,  fays  Eugenhis^  was  fo  deeply  affed:- 
 ed  with  the  wifdom  and  importance  of  reli- 
 gion, as  when  I  law  how  poorly  and  meanly 
 the  learned  OBavius  was  to  leave  the  world, 
 thro'  the  want  of  it. 
 
 How  often  had  I  envy'd  his  grea/:  learning^ 
 his  skill  in  languageSy  his  knowledge  of  antt-' 
 qii'tty^  his  addrefs^  and  fine  manner  of  expref" 
 Jing  himfelf  upon  all  fubjeds  !  But  when  I 
 faw  how  poorly  it  all  ended,  what  was  to  be 
 the  la  ft  year  of  fuch  a  life,  and  how  foolifhly 
 the  mailer  of  all  thefe  accomplifliments  w^as 
 then  forc'd  to  talk,  for  want  of  being  ac- 
 quainted with  Xh^  joys  and  expetiations  of  pie- 
 ty;  I  was  thoroughly  convinced,  that  there 
 was  nothing  to  be  envy'd  or  defir'd,  but  a  life 
 of  true  piety  ^  nor  any  thing  lb  poor  and  coni'^ 
 fortlejs^  as  a  death  without  it. 
 
 Now  as  the  young  Eugemus  was  thus  edi- 
 fy'd  and  inttruded  in  the  prefent  cafe ;  fo  if 
 you  are  fo  happy  as  to  have  any  thing  of  his 
 thoughtful  temper,  you  will  meet  with  variety 
 of  inftrudion  of  this  kind ;  you  will  find  that 
 arguments  for  the  wiidom  and  happinefs  of  a 
 
 P  2  ft  rid 
 
0  12  A  Ser ions'  Call 
 
 ftrict  piety,  offer  themfelves  in  all  places,  and 
 appeal  to  all  your  fenfes  in  the  plaineft  manner. 
 
 You  will  find,  that  all  the  world  preaches  to 
 an  attefJtive  mind ;  and  that  if  you  have  but 
 ears  to  hear,  almoft  every  thing  you  meet, 
 teaches  you  Ibme  leffon  of  wifdom. 
 
 But  now,  if  to  thefe  admonitions  and  in- 
 Ilructions,  which  we  receive  from  our  fenles, 
 from  an  experience  of  the  ftate  of  human  life ; 
 if  to  thefe  we  add  the  lights  of  religion,  thofe 
 great  truths  which  the  Son  of  God  has  taught 
 us ;  it  will  be  then  as  much  pall  all  doubt, 
 that  there  is  but  ofie  happinejs  for  man,  as  that 
 there  is  but  one  God. 
 
 For  fince  religion  teaches  us,  that  our  fouls 
 are  immortal,  that  piety  and  devotion  will 
 carry  them  to  an  eternal  enjoyment  of  God ; 
 and  that  carnal,  worldly  tempers  will  fink 
 them  into  an  everlafting  mifery  with  damned 
 fpirits ;  what  grofs  nonfenfe  and  fl:upidity  is 
 it,  to  give  the  name  oi  joy  or  happnefs  to  any 
 thing  but  that,  which  carries  us  to  this  joy 
 and  happinefs  in  God  ? 
 
 Was  all  to  dye  with  our  bodies^  there  might 
 be  fome  pretence  for  thofe  different  forts  of 
 happinefs,  that  are  now  fo  much  talked  of: 
 but  fince  our  all  begins  at  the  death  of  our  bo- 
 dies ;  fince  all  men  are  to  be  immortal  either 
 in  mifery  or  happinels,  in  a  world  entirely  dif- 
 ferent from  this;  fince  they  are  all  haftening 
 hence  at  all  uncertainties,  as  fall  as  death  can 
 cut  them  down ;  fome  in  Jicknefs^  fome  in 
 healthy  fome  Jleeping^  fome  wakingy  fome  at 
 
 ratdnighty 
 
to  a  De'voHt  and  Holy  Life.        2  1 3 
 
 midnight^  others  at  coch-c rowings  and  all  at 
 hours  that  they  know  not  of  ^  is  it  not  cer- 
 tain, that  no  man  can  exceed  another  in  joy 
 and  happinefs,  but  lb  tar  as  he  exceeds  him  in 
 thofe  virtues,  which  fit  him  for  a  happy 
 death  ? 
 
 Cognatus  is  a  Ibber,  regular  Clergyman^  of 
 good  repute  in  the  world,  and  well  efteemed 
 in  his  parifh.  All  his  parifhioners  fay  he  is  an 
 honeji  man^  and  very  notable  at  making  a  bar^ 
 gain.  The  farmers  liflen  to  him  with  great 
 attention,  when  he  talks  of  the  properefb 
 time  of  felling  corn. 
 
 He  has  been  for  twenty  years  a  diligent  ob- 
 lerver  of  markets^  and  has  raifed  a  confidera- 
 ble  fortune  by  good  management. 
 
 Cognattis  is  very  orthodox ^  and  full  of  ejieem 
 for  our  Englljh  Liturgy;  and  if  he  has  not 
 prayers  on  Wednefdays  and  Fridays^  'tis  becauie 
 his  ^redeceffor  had  not  ufed  the  parifh  to  any 
 fuch  cuftom. 
 
 As  he  cannot  ferve  both  his  livings  himfelf, 
 
 fo  he  makes  it  matter  of  confclence  to  keep  a 
 
 foher  curate  upon  one  of  them,  whom  he  hires 
 
 to  take  care  of  all  the  fouls  in  the  parifh,  at  as 
 
 cheap  a  rate  as  a  fober  man  can  be  procured. 
 
 Cognatus  has  been  very  profperous  ail  his 
 time ;  but  ftill  he  has  had  the  uneafinefs  and 
 vexations  that  they  have,  who  are  deep  in 
 worldly  bufmefs.  I'axes^  ^ojfes^  ^'^^Jp^-t  ^^^ ' 
 mortgages^  had  tenants^  and  the  hardnefs  of 
 the  times,  are  frequent  fubjeds  of  his  conver- 
 
 P  3  fationj 
 
5 1 A  A  Serious  Call 
 
 fation;  and  a  good  or  a  h^iAJecifon  has  a  great 
 effed  upon  his  fph'its. 
 
 Cognattis  has  no  other  end  in  growing  rich, 
 but  that  he  may  leave  a  confiderable  fortune 
 to  a  tsiece^  whom  he  has  politely  educated  in 
 expenfive  finery,  by  w^hat  he  has  fav'd  out 
 of  the  tithes  of  two  livings. 
 
 The  neighbours  look  upon  Cognatus  as  an 
 happy  clergyman,  becaufe  they  fee  him  (as 
 they  call  it)  in  good  ctraimjlances ;  and  fome 
 of  them  intend  to  dedicate  their  own  fons  to 
 the  Church,  becaufe  they  fee  how  well  it  has 
 fucceeded  with  Cognatus^  whofe  father  was  but 
 an  ordinary  7nan. 
 
 But  now,  if  Cognatus  J  when  he  firft  enter'd 
 into  holy  orders,  had  perceived  how  abfurd  a 
 thing  it  is  to  grow  rich  by  the  Golpel ;  if  he 
 had  propoied  to  himfclf  the  example  of  fome 
 frirnitive  father ;  if  he  had  had  the  piety  of 
 the  great  St.  Auflin  in  his  eye,  who  durft  not 
 enrich  any  of  his  relations  out  of  the  revenue 
 iSf  the  Church :  if  inftead  of  twenty  years  care 
 to  lay  up  treafures  upon  earth,  he  had  dittri- 
 buted  the  income  of  every  year  in  the  moft 
 Chriftian  afts  of  charity  and  compaffion. 
 
 If  inftead  of  tempting  his  Niece  to  be 
 proud,  and  providing  her  with  fuch  orna- 
 ments, as  the  Jpojile  forbids,  he  had  cloathed, 
 comforted,  and  affifted  numbers  of  widows^ 
 erphans^  and  diftrefs'd,  who  were  all  to  appear 
 for  him  at  the  laft  day. 
 
 If  inftead  of  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  had 
 icndsy  trouhlefome  mortgagesy  and  ill  bargains^ 
 
 he 
 
to  a  Dez^oHt  and  Holy  Life.      a  1 5 
 
 he  had  had  the  conftant  comfort  of  knowing, 
 that  his  trealure  was  fcciirely  laid  up,  where 
 neither  moth  corrupteth,  nor  thieves  break 
 through  and  fteal :  Could  it  with  any  realbn 
 be  faid,  that  he  had  miftaken  the  ipirit  and 
 dignity  of  his  order,  or  Icffen'd  any  of  that 
 happinefs,  which  is  to  be  found  in  his  iacred 
 employment? 
 
 If  inftead  of  rejoycing  in  the  happinefs  of 
 a  lecond  Viv'ing^  he  had  thought  it  as  unbe- 
 coming the  office  of  a  clergyman  to  traffick 
 for  gain  in  holy  things^  as  to  open  ?i  Jhop. 
 
 If  he  had  thought  it  better  to  recommend 
 ibme  honcjl  labonr  to  his  Niece^  than  to  fup- 
 port  her  in  idlenejs  by  the  labours  of  a  curate :, 
 better  that  fhe  fhould  want  j^W  deaths^  and  a 
 rich  husband,  than  that  cures  of  fouls  Ihould 
 be  fu-m'd  about,  and  brother  clergymen  not 
 iiiffcred  to  live  by  thole  altars,  at  \vhich  they 
 ferve.  If  this  had  been  the  fpirit  oiCognatus^ 
 could  it  with  any  rcafon  be  laid,  that  thele 
 rules  of  religion,  this  ftridnefs  of  piety,  had 
 robb'd  Cognatus  of  any  real  happinefs  ?  Could 
 it  be  faid,  that  a  life  thus  governed  by  the  fpi- 
 rit of  the  Goipel,  muft  be  dull  and  melancholy^ 
 if  compared  to  that  of  raifing  a  fortune  for  a 
 mece  ? 
 
 Now  as  this  cannot  be  faid  in  the  prefent 
 cafe,  fo  in  every  other  kind  of  life,  if  you  en- 
 ter into  the  particulars  of  it,  you  will  find, 
 that  however  eafy  and  profperous  it  may  leeni, 
 yet  you  cannot  add  piety  to  any  part  of  it, 
 
 P  4  with^ 
 
n  1 5  A  Serious  Call 
 
 without  adding  fo  much  of  a  better  joy  and 
 happinefs  to  it. 
 
 Look  now  at  that  condition  of  life,  which 
 draws  the  envy  of  all  eyes. 
 
 Negotins  is  a  temperate,  honeft  man.  He 
 fcrved  his  time  under  a  mailer  of  great  trade, 
 but  has  by  his  own  management  made  it  a 
 more  confiderable  bujGnefs  than  ever  it  was  be- 
 fore. For  thirty  years  laft  paft,  he  has  wrote 
 fifty  or  fixty  letters  in  a  week,  and  is  bufy  in 
 correfponding  with  all  parts  of  Europe,  The 
 general  good  of  trade  fcems  to  Negottus  to  be 
 the  general  good  of  L'fe ;  whomlbever  he  ad- 
 mires, whatever  he  commends  or  condemns 
 either  in  Church  or  State,  is  admired,  com- 
 mended, or  condemned,  with  Ibme  regard  to 
 trade. 
 
 As  money  is  continually  pouring  in  upon 
 him,  fo  he  often  lets  it  go  in  various  kinds  of 
 expence  and  generofity,  and  fometimes  in 
 ways  of  charity. 
 
 'Negotius  is  always  ready  to  join  in  any  pub- 
 lick  contribution  :  Xi'n  fiirfe  is  making  at  any 
 place  where  he  happens  to  be,  whether  it  be 
 to  buy  a  plate  for  a  horfe-race,  or  to  redeem  a 
 prijbn.er  out  of  jayl,  you  are  always  fure  of 
 having  Ibmething  from  him. 
 
 He  has  given  a  fine  ring  of  bells  to  a 
 Church  in  the  country ;  and  there  is  much  exr 
 peftation,  that  he  will  fome  time  or  other 
 make  a  more  beautiful  front  to  the  market" 
 houfcy  than  has  yet  been  feen  in  any  place. 
 
 For 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life,      a  1 7 
 
 For  It  is  the  generous  Ipirit  of  Ncgothis  to  do 
 nothing  in  a  mean  way. 
 
 If  you  ask  what  it  is,  that  has  fecur'd  Ne- 
 gotius  from  ^Afcandalotis  vices ^  it  is  the  fame 
 thing  that  has  kept  him  from  all  firltincfs  of 
 devotion^  it  is  his  great  bufinels.  He  has  al- 
 w^ays  had  too  many  important  things  in  his 
 head,  his  thoughts  have  been  too  much  em- 
 ployed, to  fufFer  him  to  fall  either  into  any 
 couifcs  of  rdkery^  or  to  feel  the  neceffity  of  an 
 inwanly  J  olid  piety. 
 
 For  this  realbn  he  hears  of  the  pleafures  of 
 debauchery,  and  the  pleafures  of  piety,  with 
 the  fame  indifferency  ^  and  has  no  more  defire 
 of  hving  in  the  one  than  in  *t:he  other,  be- 
 caufe  neither  of  them  confift  with  that  turn  of 
 mind,  and  multiphcity  of  bufinefs^  w^hich  are 
 his  happinefs. 
 
 If  Negotius  was  ask'd,  What  it  is  which  he 
 drives  at  in  hfe  ?  he  would  be  as  much  at  a 
 lofs  for  an  anfwer,  as  if  he  was  ask'd,  what 
 any  other  perlbn  is  thinking  of.  For  thoVhe 
 always  feems  to  himlelf  to  Joiow  what  he  is 
 doing,  and  has  many  things  in  his  head, 
 which  are  the  motives  of  his  actions ;  yet  he 
 cannot  tell  you  of  any  one  general  end  of  life, 
 that  he  has  chofen  with  deliberation,  as  being 
 truly  w^orthy  of  all  his  labour  and  pains. 
 
 He  has  feveral  confus'd  notions  in  his  head, 
 which  have  been  a  long  time  there ;  fuch  as 
 thefe,  VIZ,  That  it  is  fometh'ujg  great  to  have 
 more  bufincfs  than  other  people,  to  have  more 
 dealings  upon  his  hands  than  an  hundred  of 
 
 the 
 
a  1 8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 the  fame  profeffion;  to  grow  continually  richer 
 and  richer,  and  to  raife  an  immcnfe  fortune 
 before  he  dies.  The  thing  that  fcems  to  give 
 Negotins  the  greateft  hfe  and  fpirit,  and  to  be 
 molt  in  his  thoughts,  is  an  expectation  that 
 he  has,  that  he  Ihall  dye  richer  than  any  of 
 his  bufinefs  ever  did. 
 
 The  generality  of  people,  when  they  think 
 of  happinefs,  think  upon  Negotlus^  in  whofe 
 life  every  inllance  of  happinefs  is  luppofed  to 
 meet;  fober,  prudent,  rich,  profperous,  ge- 
 nerous, and  charitable. 
 
 Let  us  now  therefore  look  at  this  condition 
 in  another,  but  truer  light. 
 
 Let  it  be  fuppofcd,  that  this  fame  Negotins 
 was  a  painful,  laborious  man,  every  day  deep 
 in  variet^f  of  affairs;  that  he  neither  drank^ 
 nor  debauched;  but  was  fober  and  regular  in 
 his.bufmefs.  Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  he  grew 
 old  in  this  courfe  of  trading ;  and  that  the 
 €?2d  and  dejign  of  all  this  labour,  and  care,  and 
 application  to  bufinefs,  was  only  this,  that  he 
 might  dye  poffcffed  of  more  than  an  hundred 
 thoufand  pair  of  boots  ^nAfpurs^  and  as  many 
 great  coats. 
 
 Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  the  fober  part  of 
 the  world  fay  of  him  when  he  is  dead,  that 
 he  was  a  great  and  happy  man,  a  thorough 
 mafter  of  bufinefs,  and  had  acquired  an  hun- 
 dred thouland  pair  of  hoots  zndfpiirs  when  he 
 dy'd. 
 
 Now  if  this  was  really  the  cafe,  I  believe  it 
 would  be  readily  granted,  that  a  life  of  fuch 
 
 bufi- 
 
to  a  7)e^out  and  Holy  Life.      2  19 
 
 bufincfs  was  as  poor  and  ridiculous^  as  any 
 that  can  be  invented.  But  it  would  puzzle 
 any  one  to  Ihew,  that  a  man  that  has  fpent 
 all  his  time  and  thoughts  in  bufineis  and  hur- 
 ry, that  he  might  dye,  as  it  is  laid,  worth  an 
 hundred  thouland  pounds,  is  any  whit  wiicr 
 than  he,  who  has  taken  the  iame  pains  to 
 have  as  many  pair  of  boots  ^ndfpiirs  when  he 
 leaves  the  world. 
 
 For  it'  the  temfer  and  flute  of  our  fouls  be 
 our  whole  Jl ate ;  if  the  only  end  of  life  be  to 
 dye  2.^  free  from  fin,  and  as  exalted  in  virtue 
 as  we  can ;  if  naked  as  we  came,  lb  naked 
 are  we  to  return,  and  to  ftand  a  trial  before 
 Chrift,  and  his  holy  angels,  for  everlafting 
 happinefs  or  mifery ;  what  can  it  poilibly  fig- 
 nify,  what  a  man  had,  or  had  not,  in  this 
 world?  What  can  it  fignify  what  you  call 
 thofe  things  which  a  man  has  left  behind  him  j 
 whether  you  call  them  hts^  or  any  one's  elfe ; 
 whether  you  call  them  trees  2SiAjiekls^  or  birds 
 znA  feathers'^  whether  you  ar// them  an  hun- 
 dred thoufand  pounds^  or  an  hundred  thouland 
 pair  of  boots  d.nd  Jpurs  F  I  fay,  call  them  ^  for 
 the  things  fignify  no  more  to  him  than  the 
 i'lames. 
 
 Now  it  is  eafy  to  fee  the  folly  of  a  life  thus 
 fpent,  to  furnifh  a  man  with  fuch  a  number 
 of  boots  and  Jpurs,  But  yet  there  needs  no 
 better  faculty  of  feeing,  no  finer  under- 
 ftanding,  to  lee  the  folly  of  a  life  fpent  in 
 making  a  man  a  poffeffor  of  Un  towns  before 
 he  dies. 
 
 For 
 
a2o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 For  if  when  he  has  got  all  his  towm^  or  all 
 his  boct^Sj  his  foul  is  to  go  to  its  own  place  a- 
 mongft  feparate  fpirits,  and  his  body  be  laid 
 by  in  a  coffir^j  till  the  laft  trumpet  calls  him 
 to  judgment ;  where  the  enquiry  will  be,  how 
 humhly^  how  devoutly^  how  purely^  how  meek-- 
 ly^  how  poujly^  how  charitably^  how  heavenly 
 we  have  fpoke^  thought^  and  aBedy  whilft  we 
 were  in  the  body ;  how  can  we  fay,  that  he 
 who  has  wore  out  his  life  in  railing  an  hun- 
 dred thoujmd  pounds^  has  aded  wifer  for  him- 
 lelf,  than  he  who  has  had  the  fame  care  to 
 procure  an  hundred  thouiand  of  any  thino- 
 clfc? 
 
 But  flirther :  Let  it  now  be  fuppofed,  that 
 NegotiiiSj  when  he  lirft  entred  into  bufinefs, 
 happening  to  read  the  Gofpel  with  attention^ 
 and  eyes  open,  found  that  he  had  a  much 
 greater  bufinefs  upon  his  hands,  than  that  to 
 which  he  had  ferved  an  apprenticefhip :  that 
 there  were  things  which  belong  to  man,  of 
 much  more  importance  than  all  that  our  eyes 
 can  fee ;  i^o  glorious,  as  to  deferve  all  our 
 thoughts;  fo  dangerous,  as  to  need  all  our 
 care;  and  fo  certain,  as  never  to  deceive  the 
 faithful  labourer. 
 
 Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  from  reading  this 
 book,  he  had  difcovered  that  his  foul  was 
 more  to  him  than  his  body  ^  that  it  was  bet- 
 ter to  grow  in  the  virtues  of  the  Ibul,  than  to 
 have  a  large  body,  or  a  full  purfe ;  that  it  was 
 better  to  be  lit  for  heaven,  than  to  have  va- 
 riety of  fine  houfes  upon  the  earth ;  that  it 
 
 was 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       121 
 
 was  better  to  lecure  an  cverlafting  happiiiels, 
 than  to  have  plenty  of  things  which  he  can- 
 not keep  ;  better  to  live  in  habits  of  humili- 
 ty, piety,  devotion,  charity,  and  lelf-denial, 
 than  to  dye  unprepar'd  for  judgment;  better 
 to  be  moft  like  our  Saviour,  or  Ibme  eminent 
 faint,  than  to  excel  all  the  tradefmen  in  the 
 world,  in  bufineis  and  bulk  of  fortune. 
 
 Let  it  be  fuppoled,  that  Negcthu  believing 
 thefc  things  to  be  true,  entirely  devoted  him- 
 felf  to  God  at  his  lirft  letting  out  in  the 
 w^orld,  reiblving  to  purine  his  bajinefs  no  far- 
 ther than  was  confiftent  with  great  devotion, 
 humility,  and  lelf-denial;  and  for  no  other 
 ends,  but  to  provide  himielf  with  a  fober 
 fubfiftance,  and  to  do  all  the  good  that  he 
 could,  to  the  fouls  and  bodies  of  his  fellow 
 creatures. 
 
 Let  it  therefore  be  fuppofed,  that  inttead 
 of  the  continual  hurry  of  bufinefs,  he  was  fre- 
 quent in  his  retirements,  and  a  ftrid  obferver 
 of  all  the  hoars  of  prayer;  that  inftcad  of  reft- 
 lels  defires  after  more  riches,  his  Ibul  had  been 
 full  of  the  love  of  God  and  heavenly  affection, 
 conftantly  watching  againft  worldly  tempers, 
 and  always  afpiring  after  divine  grace;  that  in- 
 ftead  of  worldly  cares  and  contrivances,  he 
 was  bufy  in  fortifying  his  Ibul  againft  all  ap- 
 proaches of  fin;  that  inftcad  of  coftly  fiiew, 
 and  expenfive  generofity  of  a  fplendid  life,  he 
 lov'd  and  exercisYi  all  inftances  of  humihr.y  and 
 lowlinefs;  that  inftead  of  great  treats  and  full 
 
 tables, 
 
a  2  2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 tables,  his  houie  only  farnifh'd  albber  rcfrcfh-* 
 ment  to  thole  that  wanted  it. 
 
 Let  it  be  llippos'd,  that  his  contentment 
 kept  him  free  from  all  kinds  of  envy.  That 
 his  piety  made  him  thankful  to  God  in  all 
 crolTcs  and  dilappointments.  That  his  charity 
 kept  him  from  being  rich,  by  a  continual 
 diftribution  to  all  objects  of  compaffion. 
 
 Now  had  this  been  the  chriftian  fpirit  of 
 NegGt'ins^  can  any  one  lay ,  that  he  had 
 loft  the  true  joy  and  happinefs  of  life ,  by 
 thus  conforming  to  the  fpirit,  and  living  up 
 to  the  hopes  of  the  Gofpel? 
 
 Can  it  be  laid,  that  a  life  made  exemplary 
 by  fuch  virtues  as  thefe,  which  keep  heaven 
 always  in  our  fight,  which  both  delight  and 
 exalt  the  foul  here,  and  prepare  it  for  the  pre- 
 fence  of  God  hereafter,  muft  be  poor  and  dully 
 if  compared  to  that  of  heaping  up  riches, 
 which  can  neither  flay  with  us,  nor  we  with 
 them? 
 
 It  would  be  endlefs  to  multiply  examples 
 of  this  kind,  to  Ihew  you  how  little  is  loft, 
 and  hov/  much  is  gain'd,  by  introducing  a 
 ftrid  and  exad  piety  into  every  condition  of 
 human  life. 
 
 I  fliall  now  therefore  leave  it  to  your  own 
 meditation,  to  carry  this  way  of  thinking 
 farther,  hoping  that  you  are  enough  direfted 
 by  what  is  here  faid,  to  convince  your  felf, 
 that  a  true  and  exalted  piety  is  ih  fir  from 
 rendering  any  life  dull  and  tirefome^  that  it  is 
 
 the 
 
to  a  De^vout  and  Holy  Life.       223 
 
 the  only  joy  and  happincfs  of  every  condition 
 in  the  world. 
 
 Imagine  to  your  felf  fome  perfon  in  a 
 confumptiony  or  any  other  I'nigrlng  dlftemper^ 
 that  was  Incurable. 
 
 If  you  was  to  lee  fuch  a  man  wholly  intent 
 upon  doing  every  thing  in  the  fpirit  of  Reli- 
 gion, making  the  wifeft  ule  of  all  his  time, 
 fortune,  and  abilities.  If  he  was  for  carrying 
 every  duty  of  piety  to  itsgreateft  height,  and 
 ftriving  to  have  all  the  advantage  that  could 
 be  had  from  the  remainder  of  his  life.  If  he 
 avoided  all  bufinels,  but  fuch  as  was  necelTary ; 
 if  he  wasaverieto  all  the  folHes  and  vanities 
 of  the  world,  had  no  tafte  ioijincry^  ^.ndjhew^ 
 but  fought  for  all  his  comfort  in  the  hopes 
 and  expeftations  of  Religion ;  you  would  cer- 
 tainly commend  his  prudence,  you  would  lay 
 that  he  had  taken  the  right  method  to  make 
 himfelf  as  joyful  and  happy,  as  any  one  can  be 
 in  a  ftate  of  fuch  infirmity. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  if  you  fliould  fee  the  fame 
 perfon,  with  trembling  hands,  [hart  breath, 
 thiny3i\wSy  2.nd  hollow  eyes ^  wholly  intent  up- 
 on bufinefs  and  bargains,  as  long  as  he  could 
 fpeak.  If  you  Ihould  lee  him  pleas'd  with 
 Jlne  cloathsy  when  he  could  fcarce  ftand  to  be 
 dreiVd,  and  laying  out  his  money  in  horfcs 
 and  dogSy  rather  than  purchale  the  prayers  of 
 the  poor  for  his  foul,  which  w^as  lo  ibon  to 
 be  leparated  from  his  body,  you  would  cer- 
 tainly condemn  him,  as  a  weak  filly  man. 
 
 Now 
 
214  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 Now  as  it  is  ealy  to  fee  the  reafonableners^ 
 the  wifdom  and  happinefs  of  a  religious  fpirit 
 in  a  conJH motive  man^  ib  if  you  purfae  the 
 fame  way  of  thinking,  you  will  as  eafily 
 perceive  the  fame  wifdom  and  happinefs  of 
 a  pious  temper  in  every  other  Hate  of 
 life. 
 
 For  how  foon  will  every  man  that  is  in 
 healthy  be  in  the  ftate  of  him  that  is  in  a 
 conjhmption}  How  foon  will  he  want  all 
 the  iame  comforts  and  fatisfaftions  of  Reli- 
 gion, which  every  dying  man  wants  ? 
 
 Anci  if  it  be  wife  and  happy  to  livepioufly, 
 becaufe  we  have  not  above  a  year  to  live,  is 
 it  not  being  more  wife,  and  making  our  felves 
 more  happy,  becaufe  we  mav  have  more 
 years  to  come?  If  one  year  of  piety  before 
 we  die,  is  Yo  defirable,  is  not  more  years  of 
 piety  much  more  defirable? 
 
 If  a  man  had  jive  jix'd  years  to  live, 
 he  could  not  poffibly  think  at  all,  Vv'ithout 
 intending  to  make  the  beft  ufe  of  them  alL 
 When  he  law  his  ftay  lb  fliort  in  this  world, 
 he  muft  needs  think  that  this  was  not  a  world 
 for  him  ^  and  when  he  faw  how  near  he  was 
 to  another  world,  that  was  eternal,  he  muft 
 furely  think  it  very  neceffary  to  be  very  di- 
 ligent in  preparing  himfelf  for  it. 
 
 Now  as  realbnable  as  piety  appears  in  fuch 
 a  circumftance  of  life,  it  is  yet  more  reafona- 
 ble  in  every  circumftance  of  life,  to  every 
 thinking  man. 
 
 £ 
 
 For 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      a  Q  5 
 
 For  who  but  a  madman,  can  reckon  that  he 
 has  five  years  certain  to  come  ? 
 
 And  if  it  be  realbnable  and  neceffary  to 
 deny  our  worldly  tempers,  and  live  wholly 
 unto  God,  becaule  we  are  certain  that  we  are 
 to  die  at  the  end  o{  jive years\  llirely  it  muft 
 be  much  more  rcafonable  and  neceflary,  for  us 
 to  live  in  the  fame  Ipirit,  becaule  we  have  no 
 certainty^  that  we  Ihall  livej*?:;^  weeks. 
 
 Again,  if  we  were  to  add  twenty  years  to 
 the^:;^,  which  is  in  all  probability  more  than 
 will  be  added  to  the  lives  of  many  people 
 who  are  at  man's  eftate ;  what  a  poor  thing  is 
 this  !  how  fmall  a  difference  is  there  between 
 five,  and  twenty  five  years  ? 
 
 It  is  laid,  that  a  day  is  with  God  as  a 
 thoufand  years^  and  a  thoufand  years  as  one 
 day ;  becaufe  in  regard  to  his  eternity,  this 
 difference  is  as  nothing. 
 
 Now  as  we  are  all  created  to  be  ete^'^nal^  to 
 live  in  an  endlels  fucceffion  of  ages  upon  ages, 
 where  thotijandsy  and  miUions  of  thotijands  of 
 years,  will  have  no  proportion  to  our  cver- 
 lafting  life  in  God  \  io  with  regard  to  this 
 eternal  ftate,  which  is  our  real  ftate,  twenty 
 fivejK^^rj  is  as  poor  a  pittance  as  twenty-five 
 days. 
 
 Now  we  can  never  make  any  true  judg- 
 mient  of  time  as  it  relates  to  us,  without  con- 
 fidering  the  true  ftate  of  our  duration.  If  we 
 are  temporary  beings,  than  a  little  time,  may 
 be  juftly  be  call'd  a  great  deal  in  relation  to  us, 
 
 Q.  i?ut 
 
^26  A  Serious  Call 
 
 but  if  we  arc  eternal  beings,  than  the  diffe- 
 rence of  a  few  years  is  as  nothing. 
 
 If  we  were  to  fuppofe  three  different  forts 
 of  rational  beings,  all  of  different^  but  jix'd 
 duration,  one  fort  that  liv'd  certainly  only  a 
 months  the  other  a  year^  and  the  third  an 
 hundred  years. 
 
 Now  if  thefe  beings  were  to  meet  together, 
 and  talk  about  time,  they  mull  talk  in  a  very 
 different  language  •  half  an  hour  to  thofe  that 
 were  to  live  but  a  month^  mult  be  a  very  dif- 
 ferent thing,  to  what  it  is  to  thole,  who  are 
 to  live  an  hundred  years. 
 
 As  therefore  thne  is  thus  different  a  thing 
 with  regard  to  the  flate  of  thoie  who  enjoy  it, 
 io  if  we  would  know  what  time  is  with  re- 
 gard to  our  felves,  we  mull  conlider  our 
 ftate. 
 
 Now  fince  our  eternal  ftate,  is  as  certainly 
 ours,  as  our  prefent  ftate  ;  fince  we  are  as  cer- 
 tainly to  live  for  ever,  as  we  now  live  at  all; 
 it  is  plain,  that  we  cannot  judge  of  the  value 
 of  any  particular  time,  as  to  us,  but  by  com- 
 paring it  to  that  eternal  duration  for  which  we 
 are  created. 
 
 If  you  would  know,  \\h.2it fve years  fignify 
 to  a  being  that  was  to  live  an  hundred^  you 
 muft  compare  fve  to  an  hundred^  and  fee 
 wj\at  proportion  it  bears  to  it,  and  then  you 
 will  judge  right. 
 
 So  if  you  would  know,  what  twenty  years 
 fignify  to  a  fon  of  Adam^  you  muft  compare. 
 
 it. 
 
to  a  Dei/oHf  Md Holy  Life.       22 y 
 
 it,  not  to  a  ^iiiU'ion  of  ages,  but  to  an  eternal 
 durattoVj  to  ^vliich  no  number  of  millions 
 bears  any  proportion;  and  then  you  will  judge 
 right,  by  finding  it  fiothwg. 
 
 Confider  therefore  this  \  how  would  you  con-* 
 demn  the  IbUy  of  a  man,  that  fliould  lole 
 his  ihare  of  future  glory,  ibr  the  fake  of 
 being  r'lch^  or  great ^  ox praifd^  or  delighted 
 in  any  enjoyment^  only  one  foor  day  before 
 he    was  to  die  ! 
 
 But  if  the  time  will  come,  when  a  num- 
 ber of  years  will  feem  lefs  to  every  one^ 
 than  a  day  does  now ;  what  a  condemna- 
 tion muft  it  then  be,  if  eternal  happinefs 
 fliould  appear  to  be  loft,  for  fomething  lels 
 than  the  enjoyment  of  a  day ! 
 
 Why  does  a  day  feem  a  trifle  to  lis 
 now?  It  is  becaufe  we  have  years  to  fet 
 againft  it.  It  is  the  duration  of  years,  that 
 makes   it   appear  as  nothing. 
 
 What  a  trijie  therefore  muft  the  years 
 of  a  ?nan's  age  appear^  when  they  are  Ibrc'd 
 to  be  let  againft  eternity^  when  there  fhall 
 be  nothing  but  eternity  to  compare  them 
 with  ! 
 
 Now  this  will  be  the  cafe  of  every  man^ 
 as  loon  as  he  is  out  of  the  body  ;  he  will 
 be  forced  to  forget  the  diftinftions  of  days 
 and  years,  and  to  meafure  time,  not  by 
 the  courfe  of  the  Sun,  but  by  fetting  it 
 againft   eternity. 
 
a^S  A  Serious  Call 
 
 As  the  Jix^d  fiars^  by  rcafon  of  our  be- 
 ing plac'd  at  fuch  diftance  from  them,  ap- 
 pear but  as  fo  many  points*^  ib  when  we, 
 placed  in  eternity,  fliall  look  back  upon 
 all  t'lmey  it  will  all  appear  but  as  a  mo- 
 vient. 
 
 Then,  a  luxury^  an  Indulgence^  a  profperi^ 
 ty^  a  greatnefs  of  ffty  years,  will  feem  to 
 every  one  that  looks  back  upon  it,  as  the 
 fame  poor  Jhort  enjoyment,  as  if  he  had 
 been  fnatch'd    away    in    his  jirfi  Jtn, 
 
 Thefe  few  refleftions  upon  time^  are  only 
 to  ftiew  how  poorly  they  think,  how  mife- 
 rably  they  judge,  who  are  lefs  careful  of 
 an  eternal  ftate,  becaufe  they  77iay  be  at 
 Ibme  years  diftrince  from  it,  than  they  would 
 be,  if  they  knew  they  were  within  a  few 
 weeks   of  it. 
 
 CHAP.     XIV. 
 
 Concerning  that  part  of  Devotion  which  relates 
 to  times  and  hours  of  Prayer.  Of  daily 
 early  prayer  in  the  morning.  How  we  are  to 
 ir/iprcroe  our  forms  of  Grayer ^  and  how  to 
 increafe  the  fpirit  of  devotion. 
 
 HAving  in  the  foregoing  Chapters  flievvn 
 the  necefHty  of  a  devout  Ipirit,  or  ha- 
 bit ox  mind  in   every  part   of  our  common 
 
 life. 
 
to  a  TicvoHt  and  Holy  Life,      22^ 
 
 life,  in  the  dilchiirge  of  all  our  bufincfs,  in 
 the  ufc  of  all  the  gilts  ol*  God :  I  come  now 
 to  confider  that  part  of  devotion,  which  re- 
 lates to  times  and  honrs  of  prayer. 
 
 I  take  it  for  granted,  that  every  Chriftian, 
 that  is  in  health,  is  up  earfy  in  the  morning  ; 
 for  it  is  much  more  reafonabLe  to  iUppole  ^ 
 perfon  up  earfyy  becaufe  he  is  a  Chnfltan^  thaqi 
 becaufe  he  is  a  labourer ^  or  a  tradefman^  or  a 
 Jirvant^  or  has  bufinefs  that  wants  him. 
 
 We  naturally  conceive  Ibme  abhorrence  of 
 a  man  that  is  in  /W,  when  he  Ihould  be  at 
 his  labour y  or  in  his  Jhoj^,  We  can't  tell  how 
 to  think  any  thing  good  of  him,  who  is  fuch 
 a  Have  to  drowfinefs,  as  to  negled  his  bufi-* 
 nels  for  it. 
 
 Let  this  therefore  teach  us  to  conceive,  how 
 odious  we  mufk  appear  in  the  fight  of  heaven, 
 if  we  are  in  bedy  fliut  up  mjleep  and  darknejsy 
 when  we  fhould  be  praifing  God ;  and  are 
 liieh  fiaves  to  drowfinefs,  as  to  negled  our 
 devotions  for  it. 
 
 For  if  he  is  to  be  blam'd  as  a  Jhthful 
 drone ^  that  rather  chufes  the  lazy  indulgence 
 of  fleep,  than  to  perform  his  proper  fliare  of 
 worldly  bufinefs ;  how  much  rnore  is  he  to  be 
 reproached,  that  had  rather  lie  folded  up  in  a 
 bed,  than  be  raifing  up  his  heart  to  God  in  ads 
 of  praife  and  adoration  ? 
 
 Prayer  is  the  neareft  approach  to  God,  and 
 the  higheft  enjoyment  of  him,  that  we  ar<? 
 capable  pf  ixi  this  life, 
 
 Q.3  It 
 
7^o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 It  is  the  noblcft  exercile  of  the  foul,  the 
 moil  exalted  ule  of  our  beft  faculties,  and  tlie 
 higheft  imitation  of  the  bklTed  inhabitants 
 of  heaven. 
 
 When  our  hearts  are  full  of  God,  fend^ 
 ing  up  holy  defires  to  the  tluone  of  grace, 
 we  are  then  in  our  higheit  ftate,  we  are  upon 
 the  utmoft  heights  of  human  greatnefs;  we 
 are  not  before  kings  and  fnnce^^  but  in  the 
 prefence  and  audience  of  the  Lord  of  all 
 the  world,  andean  be  no  higher^  till  death  is 
 fwallow'd  up   in  glory. 
 
 On   the  other   hand,  Jleep   is  the  poorefl^ 
 
 dulleji  refrefnment  of  the  body,  that  is  fo  far 
 
 from  being  intended  as  an  enjoyment^  that  we 
 
 are  forced  to  receive  it  either  in  a  ftate  of  tn^ 
 
 fenJihiTity ^  or  in  the  folly  of  dreams. 
 
 Sleep  is  lueh  a  didl^  ftiipld  ftate  of  exiftence, 
 that  even  amongft  mere  animals^  we  deipile 
 them  moil,  which  are  moft  drowly. 
 
 He  therefore  that  chufes  to  enlarge  the 
 flothful  indulgence  of  lleep,  rather  than  be 
 early  at  his  devotions  to  God ;  chufes  the 
 dulleft  refrefhm.ent  of  the  body,  before  the 
 higheil,  nobleft  employment  of  the  foul ;  he 
 chufes  that  ftate,  v/hich  is  a  reproach  to  mere 
 animals^  rather  than  that  exercile,  which  is 
 the  glory  of  Angeh. 
 
 You  will  perhaps  fay,  tho'  you  rife  late^ 
 yet  you  are  always  careful  of  your  devotions 
 when  you  are  up. 
 
 It  may  be  fo.     But  what  then  ?  Is  it  well 
 done  of  you  to  rife  late^  becaufe  you  pray- 
 when 
 
to  a  Dezfout  arid  Holy  Life.      231 
 
 when  you  are  up?  Is  it  pardonable  to  wafte 
 great  part  of  the  day  in  bed,  becaule  Ibme 
 time  after  you  fay  your  prayers  ? 
 
 It  is  as  much  your  duty  to  rife  to  pray,  as 
 to  pray  when  you  are  rifen.  And  if  you  are 
 late  at  your  prayers,  you  offer  to  God  the 
 prayers  of  an  idle,  flothful  worfhipper,  that 
 rifes  to  prayers,  as  idle  fervants  rife  to  their 
 labour. 
 
 Farther,  if  you  fancy  that  you  are  careful 
 of  your  devotions,  when  you  are  up,  though 
 it  be  your  cujiom  to  rife  late,  you  deceive 
 your  felf ;  for  you  cannot  perform  your  devo- 
 tions as  you  ought.  For  he  that  cannot  deny 
 liimfelf  this  drowfy  indulgence,  but  muft  pals 
 away  good  part  of  the  morning  in  it,  is  no 
 more  prepared  for  prayer  when  he  is  up,  than 
 he  is  prepared  for  f^fttng^  ahftlnence^  or  any 
 other  felj'deniaJ.  He  may  indeed  more  eafily 
 read  over  a  form  of  prayer,  than  he  can  per- 
 form theft  duties ;  but  he  is  no  more  difpoftd 
 to  enter  into  the  true  fplrit  of  prayer,  than 
 he  is  difpofed  to  ffiing*  For  fleep  thus  in- 
 dulged, gives  ^Jbftnefs  and  'idJenefs  to  all  our 
 tempers,  and  makes  us  unable  to  relilh  any 
 thing,  but  what  fuits  with  an  idle  Jiate  of 
 mind,  and  gratifies  our  natural  tempers,  as 
 fleep  does.  So  that  a  perfon  that  is  a  flave  to 
 this  idlenefs,  is  in  the  Jhne  temper  when  he  is 
 up ;  and  though  he  is  not  afleep,  yet  he  is 
 under  the  effeifts  of  it ;  and  every  thing  that 
 is  idle^  hididgent^  or  Jenjualj  pleafts  him  iot 
 the  f4me  realbn  that  fleep  pleales  him  j  and 
 
 0^4  on 
 
5 3^  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 on  the  other  hand,  every  thing  that  requires 
 care  ^  ox  trouble^  ox  Jelj -denial^  is  hateful  to 
 him,  for  the  fame  realbn  that  he  hates  to  rife. 
 He  that  places  any  happinefs  in  this  morning 
 inckilgence,  would  be  glad  to  have  all  the  day 
 made  happy  in  the  fame  manner ;  though  not 
 with  fleep,  yet  wixhjuch  enjoyments  as  gratify 
 and  indulge  the  body  in  the  ikme  manner  as 
 Jleep  does ;  or  at  leaft,  with  fuch  as  come  as 
 near  to  it  as  they  can.  The  remembrance  of 
 a  warm  bed  is  in  his  mind  all  the  day,  and  he 
 is  glad  when  he  is  not  one  of  thole  that  fit 
 ttarving  in  a  Church, 
 
 Now  you  don't  imagine,  that  fuch  a  one  can 
 truly  mortify  that  body  which  he  thus  indul- 
 ges ;  yet  you  might  as  well  think  this,  as  that 
 he  can  truly  perform  his  devotions;  or  live 
 in  fuch  a  drowfy  Hate  of  indulgence,  and 
 yet  relilh  the  joys  of  -^fptritiial  life. 
 
 For  furely,  no  one  will  pretend  to  fay,  that 
 he  knows  and  feels  the  true  happinels  of 
 prayer,  who  does  not  think  it  worth  his  while 
 to  be  early  at  it. 
 
 It  is  not  poflible  in  nature,  for  an  Epicure 
 to  be  truly  devout ;  he  mull  renounce  this  ha- 
 bit of  fenliiality,  before  he  csin  relilh  the 
 happinefs  of  devotion. 
 
 Now  he  that  turns  lleep  into  an  idle  indul- 
 gence^ do^s  as  much  to  corrupt  and  dllbrder 
 his  foul,  to  make  it  a  flave  to  bodily  appe- 
 tites, and  keep  it  incapable  of  all  devout  and 
 }>cavenly  tempers,   as  he  that  turns  the  ne^* 
 
 ceffiti^s 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      235 
 
 cefilties  of  eating,  into  a  courfe  of  indul- 
 gence. 
 
 A  perfon  that  eats  and  drinks  too  much, 
 does  not  feci  fuch  effects  from  it,  as  thole  do, 
 who  live  in  notonous  inftances  of  gluttony  and 
 intemperance  ;  but  yet  his  courfe  of  indul- 
 gence, though  it  be  not  Jean  da  has  in  the  eyes 
 of  the  world,  nor  fuch  as  torments  his  own 
 confcience,  is  a  great  and  conftant  hindrance 
 to  his  improvement  in  virtue  ;  it  gives  him 
 eyes  that  fee  not^  and  ears  that  hear  not  \  it 
 creates  a  fenfuality  in  the  foul,  increafes  the 
 power  of  bodily  paflions,  and  makes  him  in- 
 capable of  entring  into  the  true  Ipirit  of  Re- 
 ligion. 
 
 Now  this  is  the  cale  of  thofe  who  waft^ 
 their  time  in  Jleep  \  it  does  not  drforder  their 
 lives,  or  wound  their  confciences,  as  notorious 
 atis  of  intemperance  do  ;  but  like  any  other 
 more  moderate  courfe  of  indulgence,  it  filent- 
 ly,  and  by  Irnaller  degrees,  wears  away  the 
 Ipirit  of  Religion,  and  finks  the  foul  into  a 
 ftate  of  dulnels  and  fenfuality. 
 
 If  you  confider  devotion  only  as  a  time  of 
 fo  much  prayer,  you  may  perhaps  perform 
 it,  though  you  live  in  this  daily  indulgence  : 
 But  if  you  confider  it  as  a  fate  of  the  heart, 
 as  a  lively  fervour  of  the  foul,  that  is  deeply 
 affected  with  a  fenfe  of  its  own  mifery  and  in- 
 firmities, and  defiring  the  Ipirit  of  God  more 
 than  all  things  in  the  world,  you  will  find 
 that  the  fpirit  of  indulgence,  and  the  fpirit 
 pf  prayer,  cannot  labfift  together.  Mortifi- 
 cation, 
 
*^34  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 cation,  of  all  khids^  is  the  very  life  and  foul 
 of  piety  ;  but  he  that  has  not  fo  fmali  a  de- 
 gree of  it,  as  to  be  able  to  be  early  at  his 
 prayers,  can  have  no  reafon  to  think  that 
 he  has  taken  up  his  crofs,  and  is  following 
 Chrift. 
 
 What  conqueft  has  he  got  over  himfelf? 
 What  right  hand  has  he  cut  off?  What  trials 
 is  he  prepared  for  ?  What  facrificc  is  he  ready 
 to  offer  unto  God  ^  who  cannot  befo  cruel  to 
 himfelf,  as  to  rife  to  prayer  at  liich  time,  as 
 the  drudging  part  of  the  world  are  content  to 
 life  to  their  labour. 
 
 Some  people  will  not  Icruple  to  tell  you, 
 that  they  indulge  themlelves  in  fleep,  becaufe 
 they  have  nothing  to  do ;  and  that  if  they 
 had  either  hufwefs  or  fhafare  to  rife  to,  they 
 would  not  lofe  "io  much  of  their  time  in  fleep. 
 But  fuch  people  muft  be  told,  that  they  mi- 
 ftake  the  matter ;  that  they  have  a  great  deal 
 of  bufinefs  to  do ;  they  have  a  hardened  heart 
 to  change ;  they  have  the  whole  fplrit  of  Re- 
 ligion to  get.  For  furely,  he  that  thinks  de- 
 votion to  be  of  lefs  moment  than  bufinefs  or 
 pleafure  ;  or  that  he  has  nothing  to  do,  be- 
 caufe nothing  but  his  prayers  want  him,  may 
 be  juftly  faid  to  have  the  whole  Ipirit  of  Rcli^ 
 gion  to  feek. 
 
 You  muft  not  therefore  confiider,  how  fmall 
 a  crime  it  is  to  rtjh  late^  but  you  muft  confi- 
 der  how  great  a  mifery  it  is  to  want  the  Jpirit^ 
 of  Religion  ^  to  have  a  heart  not  rightly  af- 
 feded  with  prayer ,  and  to  live  in  fuph  Ibft^ 
 
 npfs 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      155 
 
 nefs  and  idlcncfs,  as  makes  you  incapable  of 
 the  moft  fundamental  duties  of  a  truly  chri- 
 fiian  and  fpiritual  life. 
 
 This  is  the  light  way  of  judging  of  the 
 crime  of  wafting  great  part  of  your  time  in 
 bed. 
 
 You  muft  not  confider  the  thing  barely  in 
 it  felf,  but  wdiat  it  proceeds  from ;  what  vir- 
 tues it  fhcws  to  be  wanting;  what  vices  it 
 naturally  ftrengthens.  For  every  habit  of 
 this  kind  dilcovers  the  fiate  of  the  foul,  and 
 plainly  ftiews  the  whole  turn  of  your  mind. 
 
 If  our  blelTed  Lord  ufed  to  pray  early  be- 
 fore day  ;  if  he  fpent  whole  nights  in  prayer; 
 jf  the  devout  Jnna  was  day  and  night  in  the 
 temple;  if  St.  ^aiil  and  Silas  at  midnight 
 lang  praifes  unto  God;  if  the  primitive  Chrl- 
 Jilans^  for  feveral  hundred  years,  befidcs  their 
 hours  of  prayer  in  the  day-time,  met  pub- 
 lickly  in  the  Churches  at  midnight^  to  join  in 
 Plalms  and  Prayers,  is  ft  not  certain  that  thefe 
 pradices  Ihew'd  the  fiate  of  their  heart  ?  Are 
 they  not  lb  many  plain  proofs  of  the  whole 
 turn  of  their  minds  ? 
 
 And  if  you  live  in  a  contrary  ftate,  waft- 
 ing great  part  of  every  day  in  flcep,  thinking 
 any  time  foon  enough  to  be  at  your  prayers  ; 
 is  it  not  equally  certain,  that  this  praftice  as 
 much  ftiews  the  ftate  of  your  heart,  and  the 
 whole  turn  of  your  mind  ? 
 
 So  that  if  this  indulgence  is  your  way  of 
 life,  you  have  as  much  reaion  to  believe  yovir 
 lelf  deftitute  of  the  true  fpirit  of  deyotion, 
 
^2^6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 as  you  have,  to  believe  the  Apoftles  and  Saints 
 of  the  Primitive  Church  were  truly  devout;. 
 For  as  their  way  of  life  was  a  demonftration 
 of  their  devotion,  fo  a  contrary  way  of  life 
 is  as  ftrong  a  proof  of  a  want  of  devotion. 
 
 When  you  read  the  Scriptures,  you  fee  a 
 Religion  that  is  all  I'lfe^  and  Jplrh^  zndjoj  in 
 God ;  that  fuppofes  our  ibuls  rilen  from  earths 
 ly  defires,  and  bodily  indulgences,  to  prepare 
 for  another  body,  another  w^orld,  and  other 
 enjoyments.  You  fee  chriftians  reprefented  as 
 temples  of  the  holy  Ghoft,  as  children  of  the 
 day,  as  candidates  for  an  eternal  crown,  as 
 watchful  virgins,  that  have  their  lamps  aU 
 ways  burning,  in  expedatlon  of  the  bride- 
 groom. But  can  he  be  thought  to  have  this 
 joy  in  God,  this  care  of  eternity,  this  watch- 
 ful fpirit,  who  has  not  zeal  enough  to  rife.to 
 his  prayers  ? 
 
 When  you  look  into  the  writings  and  lives 
 of  the  firft  chriftians,  you  fee  the  fame  fpirit 
 that  you  fee  in  the  Scriptures.  All  is  reality, 
 life,  and  action.  Watching  and  prayers,  lelf- 
 denial  and  mortification,  was  the  common 
 bufinefs  of  their  lives. 
 
 From  that  time  to  this,  there  has  been  no 
 perlbn  like  them,  emin^cnt  for  piety,  who  has 
 not,  like  them,  been  eminent  for  felf-dcnial 
 and  mortification.  This  is  the  only  royal 
 way  that  leads  to  a  kingdom. 
 
 But  how  far  are  you  from  this  way  of  life, 
 or  rather  how  contrary  to  it,  if  inftead  of 
 imitating    their    aufterity  and  mortification, 
 
 yoii 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      237 
 
 you  can't  fo  much  as  renounce  ib  poor  an  in- 
 dulgence, as  to  be  able  to  rife  to  your  pray- 
 ers ?  If  felf-denials  and  bodily  fufferings  ,  if 
 watchings  and  faftings,  will  be  marks  of  glorv 
 at  the  day  of  Judgment,  where  muft  we  hide 
 our  heads,  that  have  flumber'd  away  our  time 
 in  floth  and  Ibftnefs  ? 
 
 You  perhaps  now  find  fome  pretences,  to 
 excufe  your  felf  from  that  ieverity  of  falting 
 and  felf-dcnial,  which  the  firil  chriftians  pra- 
 dis'd.  You  flxncy  that  human  nature  is  grown 
 weaker,  and  that  the  difference  of  C/imateSy 
 may  make  it  not  poffible  for  you  to  oblerve 
 their  methods  of  felf-denial  and  aufterity,  in 
 thefe  colder  countries. 
 
 But  all  this  is  but  pretence;  for  the  change 
 is  not  in  the  outward  ftate  of  things,  but  in 
 the  inward  ftate  of  our  minds.  When  there 
 j  is  the  lame  fpirit  in  us,  that  there  was  in  the 
 Apoftles  and  primitive  Chriftians,  when  we 
 feel  the  weight  of  Religion,  as  they  did, 
 when  we  have  their  faith  and  hope,  we  fliall 
 take  up  our  crofs,  and  deny  our  felves,  and 
 live  in  fuch  methods  of  mortification  as  they 
 did. 
 
 Had  St.  ^aul  liv'd  in  a  cold  countrey,  had 
 
 he  had  a  conftitution  made  weak  with  a  Jichly 
 
 Jiomachy  and  often  injirmitiesy  he  would  have 
 
 done  as  he  advis'd   Timothy^   he  would  have 
 
 mix'd  a  little  wine  with  his  w^ater. 
 
 But  ftill  he  would  have  liv'd  in  a  ftate  of 
 felf-denial  and  mortification.  He  would  have 
 given  this  lame  account  of  himfclf.     J  there^ 
 
 fore 
 
Q^S  A  Serious  C  a  L  1 
 
 fore  Jo  rtin^  not  as  tmcertatnly^  fo  fight  J,  not 
 as  one  that  heateth  the  air ;  hut  I  keep  under  my 
 body^  and  bring  it  unto  JiibjeBlon^  left  that  by 
 any  means ^  when  I  have  preached  to  others^  £ 
 my  felf  fijould  he  a  ca/i-azvay. 
 
 After  all,  let  it  now  be  llippos'd,  that  you 
 imagine  there  is  no  necellity  for  you  to  be  fo 
 fober  and  vigilant,  fo  fearful  of  your  felf,  fo 
 watchful  over  your  paffions,  fo  apprehcnfive 
 of  danger,  fo  careful  of  your  falvation,  as  the 
 Jpoftles  were.  Let  it  be  fuppos'd,  that  you 
 imagine  that  you  want  lefs  felf-denial  and 
 mortification,  to  fubdue  your  bodies,  and  pu- 
 rify your  fouls,  than  they  wanted ;  that  you 
 need  not  have  your  loins  girt,  and  your  lamps 
 burning  as  they  had,  will  you  therefore  live 
 in  a  quite  contrary  ftate?  Will  you  make 
 your  life  as  conftant  a  courfe  of  foftnefs  and 
 indulgence,  as  theirs  was  of  llridnefs  and  lelf- 
 denial. 
 
 If  therefore,  you  fliould  think  that  you 
 have  time  fufficient ,  both  for  prayer  and 
 other  duties,  though  you  rife  late  ^  yet  let 
 me  perfuade  you  to  rile  early,  as  an  inftance 
 oi  Jelf-deniaL  It  is  lb  fmall  a  one,  that  if 
 you  cannot  comply  with  it,  you  have  no  rea- 
 fon  to  think  your  felf  capable  of  any 
 other. 
 
 If  I  was  to  defire  you,  not  to  ftudy  the  gra- 
 tifications of  your  palate^  in  the  niceties  of 
 meats  and  drinks,  I  would  not  infift  much 
 upon  the  crime  of  wafting  your  money  in 
 fuch  a  way,  though  it  be  a  great  one  j  but  I 
 
 v/ould 
 
to  a  Ve'vont  and  Holy  Life,      a  39 
 
 would  dcfire  you  to  renounce  fuch  a  way  of 
 life,  becaufe  it  fupports  you  in  fuch  a  ft  ate  of 
 fenluality  and  indulgence,  as  renders  you  in- 
 capable of  relifhing  the  moft  effential  doftrines 
 of  Religion. 
 
 For  the  fame  reafon,  I  don't  infill:  much 
 on  the  crime  of  .wafting  fo  much  of  your  time 
 in  fleep,  though  it  be  a  great  one;  but  I  de- 
 fire  you  to  renounce  this  indulgence,  becaufe 
 it  gives  a  foftnefs  and  idlenefs  to  your  Ibul^ 
 and  is  fo  contrary  to  that  Iwefyj  zealous^ 
 watchftil.,  felf-denytng  fpirit,  which  was  not 
 only  the  fpirit  of  Chrift  and  his  Apoftles,  the 
 fpirit  of  all  the  faints  and  martyrs  which  have 
 ever  been  amongft  men,  but  muft  be  the 
 fpirit  of  all  thofe  who  would  not  fink  in  the 
 common  corruption  of  the  world. 
 
 Here  therefore,  we  muft  fix  our  charge 
 againft  this  pradice  ;  we  muft  blame  it,  not 
 as  having  this  or  that  particular  evil,  but  as  a 
 general  habit ^  that  extends  it  felf  through  our 
 whole  fpirit,  and  fupports  a  ftate  of  mind 
 that  is  wholly  wrong. 
 
 It  is  contrary  to  piety;  not  as  accidental 
 flips  and  miftakes  in  life  are  contrary  to  it, 
 but  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  an  ill  habit  of  body 
 is  contrary  to  health. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  if  you  was  to  rife  ear- 
 ly every  morning,  as  an  inftance  of  felf- 
 denial,  as  a  method  of  renouncing  indulgence, 
 as  a  means  of  redeeming  your  time,  and  fitting 
 your  i'pirit  for  prayer,  you  would  find  mighty 
 advantages  from  it.  This  method,  though 
 a  it 
 
Q40  -^  Serious  Call 
 
 it  feems  fuch  a  fmall  circumftance  of  life, 
 would  in  all  probability  be  a  means  of  great 
 piety.  It  would  keep  it  conftantly  in  your 
 head,  that  foftnefs  and  idlenels  were  to  be  a- 
 voided,  that  felf-denial  was  a  part  of  Chriftia- 
 nity.  It  would  teach  you  to  exercife  power 
 over  yourfelf,  and  make  you  able  by  degrees 
 to  renounce  other  pleafures  and  tempers  that 
 war  againft  the  foul. 
 
 This  one  rule  would  teach  you  to  think  of 
 others;  it  would  difpofe  your  mind  to  exacl- 
 nels,  and  be  very  likely  to  bring  the  remain- 
 ing part  of  the  day,  under  rules  of  prudence 
 and  devotion. 
 
 But  above  all,  one  certain  benefit  from  this 
 miethod  you  will  be  fure  of  having,  it  will 
 beft  fit  and  prepare  you  for  the  reception  of 
 the  holy  Spirit.  When  you  thus  begin  the 
 day  in  the  fpirit  of  religion,  renouncing  fleep, 
 becaufe  you  are  to  renounce  loftneis,  and  re- 
 deem your  time ;  this  difpofition,  as  it  puts 
 your  heart  into  a  good  ftate,  ib  it  will  procure 
 the  affiftance  of  the  holy  Spirit;  what  is  i'o 
 planted  and  watered,  will  certainly  have  an 
 increafe  from  God.  You  will  then  fpeak  from 
 your  heart,  your  Ibul  will  be  awake,  your 
 prayers  will  refrefh  you  like  meat  and  drink, 
 you  will  feel  what  you  fay,  and  begin  to  know 
 what  faints  and  holy  men  have  meant,  by 
 fervours  of  devotion. 
 
 He  that  is  thus  prepared  for  prayer,  who 
 lifes  with  thefe  difpofitions,  is  in  a  very  diffe- 
 rent ftate  from  him,  who  has  no  rules  of  this 
 
 kind  J 
 
to  a  DevQiit  and  Holy  Life.     2^1 
 
 kind ;.  who  rifes  by  chance,  as  he  happens  to 
 be  weary  of  his  bed,  or  is  able  to  flcep  no 
 longer.  If  fuch  a  one  prays  only  with  his 
 mouth;  if  his  heart  feels  nothing  of  that 
 which  he  fays ;  if  his  prayers  are  only  things 
 of  courfe;  if  they  are  a  lifelels  form  of  words, 
 which  he  only  repeats  becaufe  they  are  foon 
 laid,  there  is  nothing  to  be  w^ondred  at  in  all 
 this :  for  fuch  dilpofitions  are  the  natural  ef- 
 fed  of  fuch  a  ftate  of  life. 
 
 Hoping  therefore,  that  you  are  now  enough 
 convinced  of  the  necefTity  of  riling  early  to 
 your  prayers,  I  fliall  proceed  to  lay  before  you 
 a  method  of  daily  prayer. 
 
 I  don't  take  upon  me  to  preicribe  to  you 
 the  ule  of  any  particular  forms  of  prayer,  but 
 only  to  fhew  you  the  neceffity  of  praying  at 
 fuch  times,  and  in  fuch  a  manner. 
 
 You  will  here  find  Ibme  helps,  how  to  fur- 
 nifh  yourfelf  with  fuch  forms  of  prayer,  as 
 Ihall  be  ufeful  to  you.  And  if  you  are  fuch 
 a  proficient  in  the  fpirit  of  devotion,  that 
 your  heart  is  always  ready  to  pray  in  its  own 
 language,  in  this  cafe  I  prefs  no  necellity  of 
 borrowed  forms. 
 
 For  tho'  I  think  a  form  of  prayer  very  fje^ 
 ccjffary  and  expedient  for  publlck  worihip,  yet 
 if  any  one  can  find  a  better  way  of  raifing  his 
 heart  unto  God  in  private,  than  by  prepared 
 jorms  of  prayer,  I  have  nothing  to  objed: 
 againft  it ;  my  defign  being  only  to  affift  and 
 direct  fuch  as  Hand  in  need  of  affiftaace. 
 
 R  Thus 
 
24^  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 Thus  much,  I  believe,  is  certain,  that  the 
 generality  of  Chriftians  ought  to  ule  forms  of 
 prayer,  at  all  the  regular  times  of  prayer.  It 
 feems  right  for  every  one  to  begin  with  ^form 
 of  prayer;  and  if  in  the  midlt  of  his  devoti- 
 ons, he  finds  his  heart  ready  to  break  forth  in- 
 to new  and  higher  ftrains  of  devotion,  he 
 fhould4€ave  his  form  for  a  while,  and  follow 
 thofe  fervours  of  his  heart,  till  it  again  wants 
 the  aiTiftance  of  his  ufual  petitions. 
 
 This  feems  to  be  the  true  liberty  of  private 
 devotion  ;  it  ftiould  be  under  the  direction  of 
 fome  form ;  but  not  fo  ty'd  down  to  it,  but 
 that  it  may  be  free  to  take  fuch  new  expreffi- 
 ons,  as  its  prefent  fervours  happen  to  furnifli 
 it  with ;  which  fometimes  are  more  affeding, 
 and  carry  the  Ibul  more  powerfully  to  God, 
 than  any  expreffions  that  were  ever  ufed  be- 
 fore. 
 
 All  people  that  have  ever  made  any  reflexi- 
 ons upon  what  pafles  in  their  own  hearts,  muft 
 know  that  they  are  mighty  changeable  in  re- 
 gard to  devotion.  Sometimes  our  hearts  are 
 lb  awaken' d^  have  fuch  firong  apprehenfions  of 
 the  divine  Prefence,  are  io  full  of  deef  com- 
 punftion  for  our  fins,  that  we  cannot  confefs 
 them  in  any  language,  but  that  of  tears. 
 
 Sometimes  the  light  of  God's  countenance 
 ftiines  lb  bright  upon  us,  we  fee  lb  far  into  the 
 invifible  world,  we  are  fo  affeded  with  the 
 wonders  of  the  love  and  goodnefs  of  God,  that 
 our  hearts  worlhip  and  adore  in  a  language 
 
 higher 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       Q43 
 
 higher  than  that  of  words,  and  we  feel  trani- 
 poits  of  devotion,  which  only  can  be  felt. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  Ibmetimes  we  are  lb 
 Jimk  into  our  bodies,  fo  di-i/l  and  tuiaffetied 
 with  that  whicli  concerns  our  fouls,  that  our 
 hearts  are  as  much  too  low  for  our  prayers;  we 
 cannot  keep  pace  wuth  owx  forms  of  confeffion, 
 or  feel  half  of  that  in  our  hearts,  which  we 
 have  in  our  mouths ;  we  thank  and  praife  God 
 with  forms  of  words,  but  our  hearts  have  httle 
 or  no  fhare  in  them. 
 
 It  is  therefore  highly  neceflary,  to  provide 
 againft  this  tnconfancy  of  our  hearts,  by  ha- 
 ving at  hand  luch  jorms  of  prayer,  as  may  bell 
 luit  us  when  our  hearts  are  in  their  heft  ftate, 
 and  alio  be  moft  likely  to  raife  and  liir  them 
 up,  w^hen  they  are  fiirik  into  dulncfs.  For  as 
 words  have  a  power  of  affefting  our  hearts  on 
 all  occalions,  as  the  fame  thing  differently  ex- 
 preffed  has  different  effefts  upon  our  minds  ; 
 ib  it  is  rcafonable,  that  wx  ftiould  make  this 
 advantage  of  language,  and  provide  ourfelves 
 with  fuch  forms  of  exprefficns,  as  are  moft 
 likely  to  move  and  enliven  our  fouls,  and  fill 
 them  with  fentiments  fuitable  to  them. 
 
 The  firft  thing  that  you  are  to  do,  when 
 you  are  upon  your  knees^  is  to  Ihut  your  eyeSy 
 and  with  a  fliort  fience  let  your  ibul  place  it 
 felf  in  the  preience  of  God ;  that  is,  you  are 
 to  ufe  this,  or  fome  other  better  method,  to 
 leparate  yourfelf  from  all  common  thoughts, 
 and  make  your  heart  as  fenhble  as  you  can  of 
 the  diyine  preience. 
 
 R  2  Now 
 
2  44  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 Now  if  this  recoUeftion  of  Ipirit  is  neceC* 
 fary,  as  who  can  lay  it  is  not  ?  then  how  poor- 
 ly muft  they  perform  their  devotions,  who 
 are  always  in  a  hurry  \  who  begin  them  in 
 hafte,  and  hardly  allow  themfelves  time  to 
 repeat  their  Y^xy  form^  with  any  gravity  or  at- 
 tention ?  Theirs  is  properly  frying  prayers^ 
 inftead  of  fraying. 
 
 To  proceed ;  if  you  was  to  ufe  yourfelf  (as 
 far  as  you  can)  to  pray  always  in  the  fame 
 place ;  if  you  was  to  relerve  that  place  for  de- 
 votion, and  not  allow  yourfelf  to  do  any  thing 
 common  in  it  •  if  you  was  never  to  be  there 
 yourfelf,  but  in  times  of  devotion ;  if  any 
 little  room^  (or  if  that  cannot  be)  if  any  par- 
 ticular fart  of  a  room  was  thus  uled,  this  kind 
 of  coniecration  of  it,  as  a  place  holy  unto  God, 
 would  have  an  effed  upon  your  mind,  and 
 dilpole  you  to  fuch  tempers,  as  would  very 
 much  affift  your  devotion.  For  by  having  a 
 place  thus  lacred  in  your  room^  it  would  in 
 ibme  meafure  refemble  a  chafel^  or  houfe  of 
 God.  This  would  difpofe  you  to  be  always 
 in  the  fpirit  of  religion,  when  you  was  there; 
 and  fill  you  with  wife  and  holy  thoughts,  when 
 you  was  by  yourfelf.  Your  own  apartment 
 would  raife  in  your  mind  fuch  fentiments,  as 
 you  have,  when  you  ftand  near  an  altar ;  and 
 you  would  be  afraid  of  thinking  or  doing  any 
 thing  that  \Y2isfoolifh  near  that  place,  which  is 
 the  place  of  prayer,  and  holy  intercourfc  with 
 God. 
 
 When 
 
to  a  Devout  ^nd  Holy  Life.      045 
 
 When  you  begin  your  petitions,  ufe  fuch 
 various  expreffions  of  the  attributes  of  God, 
 as  may  make  you  moft  fenfible  of  the  grcat- 
 nefs  and  power  of  the  divine  Nature. 
 
 Begin  therefore  in  words  like  thefe :  0  Be-- 
 hig  of  all  beings y  Fountain  of  all  light  and  glory y 
 gracious  Father  of  men  and  angels^  v/hofe  tini- 
 verfal  Spirit  is  every  where  prefent,  giving 
 llfe^  and  light ^  and  joy^  to  all  angels  in  heaven^ 
 and  all  creatures  upon  earthy  &c. 
 
 For  thefe  reprelentations  of  the  divine  At- 
 tributes, which  fliew  us  in  iome  degree  the 
 majefty  and  greatneis  of  God,  are  an  excellent 
 means  of  raifing  our  hearts  into  lively  acts  of 
 worfhip  and  adoration. 
 
 What  is  the  reafon  that  moft  people  are  ^h 
 much  affeded  with  this  petition  in  the  Burial 
 Service  of  our  Church  :  Tet^  O  Lord  God  moji 
 holy^  0  Lord  mo/l  mighty j  0  holy  and  mojl  mer'- 
 ciful  Saviour  y  deliver  us  not  into  the  hitter  fains 
 of  eternal  death  ?  It  is,  becaule  the  joining  to- 
 gether fo  many  ^r<?^/'  exprejftonsy  gives  flich  a 
 defcription  of  the  greatnefs  of  the  Divine  Ma- 
 jefty, as  naturally  afFeds  every  fenfible  mind. 
 
 Altho'  therefore  prayer  does  not  confift  in 
 fine  words y  or  fludfd  exprefjions ;  yet  as  words 
 fpeak  to  the  foul,  as  they  have  a  certain  power 
 of  raifing  thoughts  in  the  foul  ^  fo  thole  words 
 which  fpeak  of  God  in  the  higheft  manner, 
 which  moft  fully  exprefs  the  power  and  pre- 
 fence  of  God,  which  raife  thoughts  in  the  foul 
 moft  fuitable  to  the  greatnefs  and  providence 
 
 R  3  of 
 
■2a6  a  Serious   Call 
 
 of  God,  are  the  moft  ufeful,  and  moft  edify- 
 ing in  our  prayers. 
 
 When  yeu  direft  any  ,of  your  petitions  to 
 our  blefTed  Lord,  let  it  be  in  fome  expreflions 
 of  this  kind :  0  Saviour  of  the  world^  God  of 
 God^  Light  of  Light ;  thou  that  art  the  Bright- 
 fiefs  of  thy  Father's  Glory  ^  and  the  exprefs  Image 
 cf  his  ^Perfon ;    thou  that  art  the  Alpha  and 
 Omega,  the  Beginning  and  End  of  all  things  ; 
 thou  that  haft  dejlroyed  the  power  of  the,  devily 
 that  haft  overcome  death ;  thou  that  art  entred 
 into  the  Holy  of  Holies^  that  ftttejl  at  the  right 
 hand  of  the  Father^    that  art  high  above  all 
 thrones  and  principalities^  that  make  ft  intercef- 
 (ion  for  all  the  v)orld\  thou  that  art  the  judge 
 of  the  quick  and  dead ;   thou  that  wilt  fpeedily 
 <ome  dS^n  in  thy  Father's  glory ^  to  reward  all 
 Tnen  according  to  their  works^  he  thou  my  light 
 and  my  peace ^  &vc. 
 
 For  fuch  reprefentations,  which  defcribe  fo 
 many  characters  of  our  Saviour's  nature  and 
 power,  are  not  only  proper  ads  of  adoration^ 
 but  will,  if  they  are  repeated  with  any  atten- 
 tion, fill  our  hearts  w^ith  the  higheft  fervours 
 of  true  devotion. 
 
 Again,  if  you  ask  any  particular  grace  of 
 our  blefTed  Lord,  let  it  be  in  fome  manner 
 like  this  : 
 
 0  holy  Jefus^  Son  of  the  mof  high  God^  thou 
 that  waji  Jcourged  at  a  pillar^  firetched  and 
 fiaiVd  upon  a  crofs^  for  the  jins  of  the  world^ 
 unite  me  to  thy  crofs^  and  fill  my  foul  with  thy 
 hofyy  humble y  and fuff^ring  fpirtt,     0  Fountain 
 
to  a  T)e^oHt  and  Holy  Life.        247 
 
 of  mercy ^  thou  that  didft  fave  the  thief  tipon 
 the  crojs^  fave  me  from  the  guilt  of  a  finful  I'lfe*^ 
 thou  that  d'ldfi  cafi  feven  devils  out  of  Mary 
 Magdalene,  cafi  out  oj  my  heart  all  evilthoughts^ 
 and  IX)] eked  tempers.  0  Giver  of  life^  thoit  that 
 did  ft  raife  Lazarus  y/'i^/;2  the  dead^  ra'ife  up  my 
 foul  jro7n  the  death  and  darhiefs  of  fin,  Thou 
 that  d'ldfi  give  to  thy  Jpo files  power  over  unclean 
 fpirits^  give  me  power  over  my  awn  heart,  Thou 
 that  did  ft  appear  unto  thy  difciples  when  the  doors 
 werefut^  do  thou  appear  unto  me  in  the  fecret 
 apartment  of  my  heart,  Thou  that  didjl  cleanje 
 the  lepers^  heal  the  fck^  and  give  fight  to  the 
 blind.,  cleanfe  my  heart .^  heal  the  diforders  of  my 
 foul.,  and  fill  me  with  heavenly  light. 
 
 Now  thefe  kind  of  appeals  have  a  double 
 advantage ;  lirft,  as  they  are  lb  many  proper 
 acts  of  oux  faith.,  whereby  we  not  only  Ihew 
 our  belief  of  the  miracles  of  Chrift,  but  turn 
 them  at  the  fame  time  into  fo  many  inftances 
 of  worfliip  and  adoration. 
 
 Secondly.,  As  they  ftrengthen  and  increale 
 the  faith  of  our  prayers,  by  prelenting  to  our 
 minds  lb  many  inftances  of  that  power  and 
 goodnefs.,  which  we  call  upon  for  our  own  at- 
 liftance. 
 
 For  he  that  appeals  to  Chrift,  as  cafting  out 
 devils.,  and  railing  the  dead.,  has  then  a  power-, 
 fill  motive  in  his  mind  to  pray  earneftly,  and 
 depend  faithfully  upon  his  afliftance. 
 
 Again ;  In  order  to  fill  your  prayers  with 
 excellent  ftrains  of  devotion,  it  may  be  of  uie 
 to  you  to  oblerve  this  farther  rule ; 
 
 R  4  When 
 
^^S  A  Serious  Call 
 
 When  at  any  time,  either  in  reading  the 
 Scripture^  or  any  book  of  ^lety^  you  meet 
 with  a  palTagc,  that  more  than  ordinarily  af- 
 fefts  your  mind,  and  feems  as  it  were  to  give 
 your  heart  a  new  motion  towards  God,  you 
 ihould  try  to  turn  it  into  the  form  of  a  petiti-. 
 on,  and  then  give  it  a  place  in  your  prayers. 
 
 By  this  means,  you  would  be  often  impro- 
 ving your  prayers,  and  ftoring  yourfelf  with 
 proper  forms  of  making  the  defires  of  your 
 heart  known  unto  God. 
 
 At  all  the  Jiated  hours  of  prayer,  it  will  be 
 of  great  benefit  to  you,  to  have  Ibmething 
 T^vW,  and  foriiething  at /i^^r/^y,  in  your  devo- 
 tions. 
 
 You  ftiould  have  fome  Jix'd  fubjed,  which 
 33  conftantly  to  be  the  chief  matter  of  your 
 prayer  at  that  particular  time  ;  and  yet  have 
 liberty  to  add  fuch  ether  fetittonsy  as  your 
 condition  may  then  require. 
 
 For  inftance  ;  As  the  morning  is  to  you  the 
 beginning  of  a  new  life;  as  God  has  then 
 given  you  a  nev/  enjoyment  of  yourfelf,  and  a 
 frefh  entrance  into  the  world,  it  is  highly  pro- 
 per, that  yowxjirji  devotions  Ihould  be  2ifraifc 
 and  thanklgiving  to  God^  as  for  a  new  crea- 
 tion :  and  that  you  ftiould  offer  and  devote 
 iody  andy3^/,  all  that  you  are^  and  all  that 
 you  have^  to  his  fervice  and  glory. 
 
 Receive  therefore  every  day,  as  a  reJurreBwn 
 from  death,  as  a  new  enjoyment  of  life;  meet 
 every  rijingfun  with  fuch  fentiments  of  God's 
 goodnels,  as  if  you  had  feen  ity  and  all  things, 
 
 new 
 
to  a  T)e^ont  and  Holy  Life.      249 
 
 new  created  upon  your  account ;  and  under  the 
 fenle  of  fo  great  a  blcffing,  let  your  joyjul 
 heart  praile  and  magnify  lb  good  and  glorious 
 a  Creator. 
 
 Let  therefore  fraife  and  thankfg'ivingy  and 
 chhtion  of  yourlelf  unto  God,  be  always  the 
 Jixed  and  certain  fubjed  of  youxjir/f  prayers 
 in  the  morning;  and  then  take  the  liberty  of 
 adding  luch  other  devotions,  as  the  accidental 
 difference  of  yonx  Jl ate ^  or  the  accidental  diffe- 
 rence of  your  hearty  fhall  then  make  moft 
 needful  and  expedient  for  you. 
 
 For  one  of  the  greateft  benefits  of  private 
 devotion,  confifts  in  rightly  adapting  our  pray- 
 ers to  thefe  two  conditions,  the  difference  of 
 our  fiate^   and  the  difference  of  our  hearts. 
 
 By  the  difference  of  our  ftate^  is  meant  the 
 difference  of  our  external  ftate  or  condition,  as 
 of  Jicknefsj  healthy  pa'ins^  ^<ijph  difappoint^ 
 rnentSj  troubles ^  particular  mercies  ox  judg7nents 
 from  God ;  all  Ibrts  of  kindnejfesj  injuries  or 
 reproaches  from  other  people. 
 
 Now  as  thefe  are  great  parts  of  our  ftate  of 
 life,  as  they  make  great  difference  in  it,  by 
 continually  changing  ;  io  our  devotion  will  be 
 made  doubly  beneficial  to  us,  when  it  watches 
 to  receive  and  fandify  ail  thefe  changes  of  our 
 ftate,  and  turns  them  all  into  lb  many  occafi- 
 ons  of  a  more  particular  application  to  God, 
 of  fuch  thankfgivings,  fuch  refignation,  fuch 
 petitions,  as  our  prefent  ftate  more  elpecially 
 requires. 
 
 And 
 
a  5  ^  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 And  he  that  makes  every  change  in  his 
 ftate,  a  reafon  of  prefenting  unto  God  fome 
 particular  petitions  fuitable  to  that  change, 
 will  foon  find,  that  he  has  taken  an  excellent 
 means,  not  only  of  pray'mg  with  fervour,  hut 
 of  l/vh/g  as  he  prays. 
 
 The  next  condition,  to  which  we  are  always 
 to  adapt  fome  part  of  our  prayers,  is  the  defe- 
 rence of  our  hearts  J  by  which  is  meant  the 
 different  ftate  of  the  tempers  of  our  hearts,  as 
 of  love  J  joy^  peace  ^  tranqmlity  ^  dalnefs  and  dri- 
 nefs  of  Jpirlt^  anxiety^  dtj content^  motions  of 
 eiivy  and  ambttion,,  dark  and  dijconjblate  thought Sy 
 rejintments^  fretjulnejs^  and  pe&vlfh  tempers. 
 
 Now  as  thele  tempers,  through  the  weak- 
 nefs  of  our  nature,  w^ill  have  their  fuccellion 
 moreor  lefs,  even  in  pious  minds;  fo  we  fiiould 
 coi^ftantly  make  the  prefent  fiate  of  our  heart, 
 th(^  reafon  of  Ibme  particular  application  to 
 God. 
 
 If  we  are  in  the  delightful  calm  of  fweet 
 and  eafy  paflions,  of  love  and  joy  in  God,  we 
 Jhould  then  offer  the  grateful  tribute  of  thanks- 
 giving to  God,  for  the  poffcffion  of  fb  much 
 happinefs,  thankfully  owning  and  acknowledg- 
 ing him  as  the  bountiful  Giver  of  it  all. 
 
 If  on  \ht  other  hand,  we  feel  ourfelves  la- 
 den with  heavy  paflions,  with  dalnefs  of  fpirit, 
 anxiety  and  uneafinefs^  we  muft  then  look  up 
 to  God  in  ads  of  humility,  confefling  our  un-^ 
 v^'orthinefs,  opening  our  troubles  to  him,  fee- 
 feeching  him  in  his  good  time  to  lefTen  the 
 weight  of  our  infirmities^  and  to  deliver  us 
 
 from 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  2$! 
 
 from  fuch  pafllons  as  oppoie  the  purity  and 
 perfeftion  of  our  fouls. 
 
 Now  by  thus  watching,  and  attending  to 
 the  prefent  ftate  of  our  hearts,  and  liiiting 
 fbme  of  our  petitions  exaftly  to  their  wants, 
 ■vve  fliall  not  only  be  well  acquainted  with  the 
 diforders  of  our  Ibuls,  but  alfo  be  well  exer- 
 cised in  the  method  of  curing  them. 
 
 By  this  prudent  and  wife  application  of 
 our  prayers,  we  Ihall  get  all  the  relief  from 
 them  that  is  poffible;  and  the  very  change- 
 abknefs  of  our  hearts,  w^ill  prove  a  means  of 
 exercifing  a  greater  variety  of  holy  tem- 
 pers. 
 
 Now  by  all  that  has  here  been  faid,  you 
 ■will  eafily  perceive,  that  perlbns  careful  of 
 the  greateit  benefit  of  prayer,  ought  to  have 
 a  great  fhare  in  the  forming  and  compofing 
 their  own  devotions. 
 
 As  to  that  part  of  their  prayers,  which  is 
 ahvays  fix'd  to  one  certain  fubjcd,  in  that 
 they  may  ufe  the  help  of  forms  composed  by 
 other  perfons  ^  but  in  that  part  of  their  pray- 
 ers, which  they  are  always  to  iiiit  to  the  pre- 
 fent ftate  of  their  Ufe^  and  the  prefent  ftate 
 of  their  hearty  there  they  muft  let  the  fenie 
 of  their  own  condition  help  them  to  fuch 
 kinds  of  petition^  thanhfgtvtng^  or  rejignatwn^ 
 as  their  prefent  ftate  more  efpecially  re- 
 quires. 
 
 Happy  are  they,  who  have  this  bufinefs 
 and  employment  upon  their  hands ! 
 
 And 
 
2  1^2  A  ScrioHs  Call 
 
 And  now,  if  people  of  leifure,  whether 
 men,  or  women,  who  are  fo  much  at  a  lols 
 how  to  difpofe  of  their  time,  who  are  forced 
 into  poor  contrivances,  idle  vifits,  and  ridicu- 
 lous divcrfions,  merely  to  get  rid  of  hours 
 that  hang  heavily  upon  their  hands ;  if  liich 
 were  to  appoint  fbme  certain  fpaces  of  their 
 time,  to  the  ftudy  of  devotion,  learching  after 
 all  the  means  and  helps  to  attain  a  devout 
 fpirit.  If  they  were  to  colled  the  beft  forms 
 of  devotion,  to  vile  themlelves  to  tranfcribe 
 the  fincft  paffages  o^ fcrlpture-prayers  ;  if  they 
 were  to  colled  the  devotions,  confeffions,  pe- 
 titions, praifes,  r^fignations ,  and  thanki- 
 givings,  which  are  fcattered  up  and  down  in  the 
 Pfalms,  and  range  them  under  proper  headSj 
 as  lb  much  proper  fuel  for  the  flame  of  their 
 own  devotion.  If  their  minds  were  often 
 thus  employed,  fometimes  meditating  upon 
 them,  fometimes  getting  them  by  heart,  and 
 making  them  as  habitual  as  their  own 
 thoughts,  hov/  fervently  would  they  pray^ 
 who  came  thus  prepared  to  prayer  ? 
 
 And  how  much  better  would  it  be,  to 
 make  this  benefit  of  leifure-tme^  than  to  be 
 dully  and  idly  loft  in  the  poor  impertinencies 
 of  a  fUying^  vijittng^  zvandrlng  life  ? 
 
 How  much  better  would  it  be,  to  be  thus 
 furniih'd  with  hymns  and  anthems  of  the 
 flints,  and  teach  their  fouls  to  afcend  to  God ; 
 than  to  corrupt^  bewilder  and  confound  their 
 hearts,  with  the  wild  fancies  ^  the  lujiful 
 thoughts  of  lewd  Poets  ? 
 
 Now 
 
to  a  Dcvoiii  and  Holy  Life.       2^3 
 
 Now  though  people  of  leifure  feem  caU'd 
 more  particularly  to  this  ftudy  of  devotion, 
 yet  perfons  of  much  bufincfs  or  jlabour,  muft 
 not  think  thcmfelves  excused  from  this,  or 
 Ibme  better  method  of  improving  their  de- 
 votion. 
 
 For  the  greater  their  bufmefs  is,  the  more 
 need  they  have  of  fome  fuch  method  as  this, 
 to  prevent  its  power  over  their  hearts ;  to  Ic- 
 cure  them  from  finking  into  worldly  tempers, 
 and  prefer ve  a  fenfe  and  tafte  of  heavenly 
 things  in  their  minds.  And  a  little  time  re- 
 gularly  and  confiantly  employed  to  any  one  uje 
 or  efidj  will  do  great  things,  and  produce 
 mighty  effeds.   ^ 
 
 And  it  is  fof  want  of  confidering  devotion 
 in  this  I'tght^  as  fom.ej:hing  that  is  to  be  nurs'd 
 and  cherifh'd  with  care,  as  fomething  that  is 
 to  be  made  part  of  our  bufinefs,  that  is  to  be 
 improved  with  care  and  contrivance,  by  art 
 and  method,  and  a  diligent  ufe  of  the  bell 
 helps  ;  it  is  for  want  of  confidering  it  in  this 
 light,  that  lb  many  people  are  lb  little  bene- 
 fited by  it,  and  live  and  die  ftrangers  to  tliat 
 fpirit  of  devotion,  which  by  a  prudent  ufe  of 
 proper  means,  they  might  have  enjoy'd  in  a 
 high  degree. 
 
 For  though  the  fpirit  of  devotion  is  the 
 gift  of  God,  and  not  attainable  by  any  77iere 
 power  of  our  own,  yet  is  it  mofl:ly  given, 
 and  7iever  withheld^  from  thole,  who  by  a  wile 
 and  diligent  ule  of  proper  means  ^  prepare 
 themlelves  for  the  reception  of  it. 
 
 I  And 
 
2^4*  ^  serious  Call 
 
 And  it  is  amazing  to  lee,  how  eagerly  men 
 employ  their /v7/ti,  then  Jhgac'ity^  ttme^  ft^^^Jy 
 appUcaUon  and  exenife  \  how  all  helps  are  caird 
 to  their  alTiftance,  when  anything  is  intended 
 and  defir'd  in  worldly  matters  \  and  how  dull^ 
 negUgent^  and  unimproved  they  are,  how  lit- 
 tle they  ufe  their  parts^  fig^city^  and  abili- 
 ties, to  raife  and  increale  their  devotion ! 
 
 Miindanus  is  a  man  of  excellent  parts,  and 
 clear  apprehenfion.  He  is  well  advanced  in. 
 age,  and  has  made  a  great  figure  in  bufinefs. 
 Every  part  of  trade  and  bufinefs  that  has  fal- 
 len in  his  way,  has  had  fome  improvement 
 from  him;  and  he  is  always  contriving  to  car- 
 ry every  method  of  doing  any  thing  well,  to 
 its  greateft  height.  Mundafiiis  aims  at  the 
 greateft  perfeftion  in  every  thing.  The  found" 
 nefs  and  ftrength  of  his  mind,  and  his  jaft 
 way  of  thinking  upon  things,  makes  him  in- 
 tent upon  removing  all  imperfections. 
 
 He  can  tell  you  all  the  defects  and  errors  in 
 all  the  common  methods,  whether  of  tradcy 
 biulditJgj  or  improving"  laud^  or  inanufactures. 
 The  clearnefs  and  ftrength  of  his  underftand- 
 ing,  w^hich  he  is  conftantly  improving,  by  con- 
 tinual exercife  in  thefe  matters,  by  often  di- 
 gefting  his  thoughts  in  Vv'iiting,  and  trying 
 every  thing  every  way,  has  render'd  him  a 
 great  mafter  of  moft  concerns  in  human 
 life. 
 
 Thus  has  Miindanus  gone  on»  increafing  his 
 knowledge  and  judgme?ity  as  faft  as  his  years 
 came  upon  him. 
 
 The 
 
to  a  T)e^oiit  and  Holy  Life  -2^5 
 
 The  one  only  thing  which  has  not  fallen  un- 
 der his  improvement,  nor  received  any  benefit 
 from  his  judicious  mind,  is  his  devotion  :  This 
 is  juft  in  the  lame  poor  ftate  it  was,  when  he 
 was  only  fix  yeafn  of  age ;  and  the  old  man 
 prays  now,  in  that  little  form  of  words,  which 
 his  mother  us'd  to  hear  him  repeat  night  and 
 morning. 
 
 This  Miiiidamis^  that  hardly  ever  faw  the 
 pooreft  Htcnjily  or  ever  took  the  meaneft  trtfle 
 into  his  hand ,  without  confidcring  how  it 
 might  be  madej  or  usd  to  better  advantage, 
 has  gone  ail  his  life  long  praying  in  the  fame 
 manner,  as  when  he  was  a  child -^  without 
 ever  confidering  how  much  better^  or  oftner 
 he  might  pray  \  without  confidering  how  im- 
 proveable  the  fpirit  of  devotion  is,  how  ma- 
 ny helps  a  wile  and  reafonable  man  may  call 
 to  his  afliftance,  and  how  neceflfary  it  is,  that 
 our  prayers  fhould  be  enlarged,  vary'd,  and 
 fuited  to  the  particular  ftate  and  condition  of 
 our  lives. 
 
 If  Mundanus  fees  a  book  of  devotion^  he  pal^ 
 
 fes  it  by,  as  he  does  a  JpeUing-book^  becaufe 
 
 he  remembers  that  he  learn'd  to  pray  lb  many 
 
 years  ago  under  his  7iiother^  when  he  learnt  to 
 
 Spell 
 
 ^Qiw^  how  poor  and  pitiable  is  the  condud 
 of  this  man  of  fenfe,  who  has  ^o  much  judg- 
 ment and  underftanding  in  every  thing,  but 
 that  which  is  the  whole  wijdom  of  man  ? 
 
 And  how  miierably  do  many  people,  more 
 or  lels  imitate  this  condud  ? 
 
 All 
 
2  5  5  A  Serious  Call 
 
 All  which  feems  to  be  owing  to  a  ftrangc 
 infatuated  ftate  of  negligence,  which  keeps 
 people  from  confidering  what  devotion  is.  For 
 if  they  did  but  once  proceed  \o  far,  as  to  re- 
 fleB  about  it,  or  ask  themfelves  any  quefti- 
 "^ons  concerning  it,  they  would  foon  lee,  that 
 the  fpirit  of  devotion  was  like  any  other  fenje 
 or  tmderjicind'mgj  that  is  only  to  be  improved 
 "by  Jiudy^  care^  af pile  at  ton  ^  and  the  ufe  of  fuch 
 oneam  and  helps^  as  are  necefll^ry  to  make  a 
 man  a  proficient  in  any  art,  or  Icience. 
 
 Clajjicus  is  a  man  of  learning,  and  well 
 vers'd  in  all  the  beft  authors  of  antiquity. 
 He  has  read  them  fo  much,  that  he  has  en- 
 tered into  their  Ipirit,  and  can  very  ingeni- 
 oufly  imitate  the  manner  of  any  of  them. 
 All  their  thoughts  are  his  thoughts,  and^  he 
 can  exprefs  himfelf  in  their  language.  He  is 
 fo  great  a  friend  to  this  improvement  of  the 
 mind,  that  if  he  lights  of  a  young  fcholar, 
 he  never  fails  to  advife  him  concerning  his 
 ftudies. 
 
 Clafficiis  tells  his  young  man,  he  mull  not 
 think  that  he  has  done  enough,  when  he  has 
 only  learnt  languages  ^  but  that  he  muft  be 
 daily  converfant  with  the  beft  authors,  read 
 them  again  and  again,  catch  their  Ipirit  by 
 living  with  them,  and  that  there  is  no  other 
 way  of  becoming  like  them,  or  of  making 
 himfelf  a  man  of  tajle  -^nA  judg^nent. 
 
 How  wile  might  Clajficus  have  been,  and 
 how   much   good  might    he   have    done    in 
 
 the 
 
to  a  Devout  dnd  Holy  Life.     2^7 
 
 the  world,  if  he  had  but  thought  as  jtijily  of 
 devot'iojiy  as  he  does  of  learning  ? 
 
 He  never,  indeed,  lays  any  thing  Jhocklng 
 or  offe^ijive  about  devotion^  becaulc  he  never 
 th'mksy  or  talks  about  it.  It  lufFers  nothing 
 from  him,  but  neglcd  and  difregard. 
 
 The  two  Teftaments  would  not  have  had 
 fo  much  as  a  place  amongft  his  Books,  but 
 that  they  are  both  to  be  had  in  Greek, 
 
 Clajficus  thinks  that  he  fufficiently  fhews  his 
 regard  for  the  holy  Scripture ,  when  he  tells 
 you,  that  he  has  no  other  Books  of  piety  be-<f 
 fides  them*  i 
 
 It  is  very  well,  ClaJJlciis^  that  you  prefer 
 the  Bible  to  all  other  Books  of  piety  ^  he  has 
 no  judgment,  that  is  not  thus  far  of  your 
 opinion. 
 
 But  if  you  will  have  no  other  book  of 
 piety  befides  the  Bthle^  becaufe  it  is  the  beft, 
 How  comes  it,  Clajjicas^  that  you  don't  con- 
 tent your  felf  with  one  of  the  heji  Books 
 amongft  the  Greeks  and  Romans  P  How  comes 
 it  that  you  are  fo  greedy  and  eager  after  all  of 
 them  ?  How  comes  it  that  you  think  the 
 knowledge  of  one  is  a  necelTary  help  to  the 
 knowledge  of  the  other  ?  How  comes  it  that 
 you  are  fo  earneft,  lb  laborious,  lb  cxpeniive 
 of  your  time  and  money,  to  reftore  broken 
 periods  y  and /era fs  of  the  ancients  ? 
 
 How  comes  it  that  you  reaci  lb  many  Com^ 
 mentators  upon  Cicero  y  Horace^  and  Horner^ 
 and  not  one  Upon  the  Gofpel  ?  How  comes  it 
 that  you  loye  to  read  a  man  ?  How  ciomes  it 
 
 S  tbas 
 
^^8  A  SerioHf  Call 
 
 that  your  love  of  Cicero^  and  Ovid.,  makes  you 
 love  to  read  an  author  that  writes  like  them; 
 and  yet  your  ejleem  for  the  Gofpel  gives  you 
 no  defire,  nay,  prevents  your  reading  fuch 
 Books,  as  breathe  the  very  fpirit  of  the  Gol- 
 pel? 
 
 How  comes  it  that  you  tell  your  yotwg 
 fchoJar^  he  mull  not  content  himfelf  with 
 barely  underftanding  his  authors,  but  muft 
 be  continually  reading  them  all^  as  the  only 
 means  of  entering  into  their  fpirit,  and  form- 
 ing his  own  judgment  according  to  them  ? 
 
 Why  then  muft  the  Bible  lye  alone  in 
 your  ftudy  ?  Is  not  the  fpirit  of  the  faints, 
 the  piety  of  the  holy  followers  of  Jciiis  Chrift, 
 as  good  and  neceffary  a  means  of  entering  in- 
 to the  fpirit  and  tajie  of  the  Gofpel,  as  the 
 reading  of  the  antients  is  of  entering  into  the 
 Ipirit  of  antiquity? 
 
 Is  the  fpirit  of  poetry  only  to  be  got  by 
 much  reading  of  Poets  and  Orators  ?  And  is 
 not  the  fpirit  of  devotion  to  be  got  in  the 
 fame  way,  by  frequent  reading  the  holy 
 thoughts,  and  pious  ftrains  of  devout  men  ? 
 
 Is  your  young  Poet  to  fearch  after  every 
 I'mej  that  may  give  new  wings  to  his  fancy, 
 or  dired  his  imagination?  And  is  it  not  as 
 reafonable  for  him,  who  defires  to  improve  in 
 the  divine  life,  that  is,  in  the  love  of  heavenly 
 things,  to  fearch  after  every  itrain  of  devo- 
 tion, that  may  move,  kindle,  and  inflame 
 the  holy  ardour  of  his  foul  ? 
 
 ■Do     I 
 
to  a  Dez/oHt  ajid  Holy  Life.      259 
 
 Do  you  advile  your  Orator  to  tranfiate  the 
 bcft  Orations,  to  commit  much  of  them  to 
 memory,  to  be  frequently  excrcifing  his  talent 
 in  this  manner,  that  habits  of  thinking  and 
 fpeaking  jaftly  may  be  fornVd  in  his  mind  ? 
 And  is  there  not  the  fame  benefit  and  advan- 
 tage to  be  made  by  books  of  devotion  ?  Should 
 not  a  man  ule  them  in  the  fame  way,  that 
 habits  of  devotion,  and  afpiring  to  God  in 
 holy  thoughts,  may  be  well  fornVd  in  his  Ibul  ? 
 
 Now  the  reafon  why  CbfficusAocs  not  th'mk 
 and  judge  thus  reaibnably  of  devotion,  is 
 owing  to  his  never  thinking  of  it  in  any  other 
 manner,  than  as  the  repeating  ^form  oi  words. 
 It  never  in  his  life  enter'd  into  his  head,  to 
 think  of  devotion  as  dL^flate  of  the  hearty  as 
 an  improveahle  talent  of  the  mind,  as  a  te?nper 
 that  is  to  g7^ow  and  mcreafe  like  our  reafon 
 ^nd  judgment^  and  to  be  form'd  in  us  by  liich 
 a  regular  diligent  ufe  of  proper  means,  as  are 
 necelTary  to  form  any  other  wife  habit  of  mind^ 
 
 And  it  is  for  want  of  this,  that  he  has  been 
 content  all  his  life,  with  the  hare  letter  of 
 Prayer,  and  eagerly  bent  upon  entering  into 
 the  Jp'ir/t  of  heathen  fcets  and  orators. 
 
 And  it  is  much  to  be  lamented,  that  num- 
 bers of  fcholars  are  more  or  lefs  chargeable 
 with  this  excefTive  folly;  fo  negligent  of  im- 
 proving their  devotion,  and  fo  defirous  of  o- 
 ther  poor  accomplifhments,  as  if  they  thought 
 it  a  nobler  talent,  to  be  able  to  write  an 
 eftgram  in  the  turn  of  Martial^  than  to  Vive^ 
 
 S  %  and 
 
a5o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 and  thhiky^ndjTay  to  God,  in  the  Iplrit  of  St, 
 Aujiin. 
 
 And  yet,  to  correft  this  temper,  and  fill  a 
 man  with  a  quite  contrary  fpirit,  there  feems 
 to  be  no  more  required,  than  the  hare  belief 
 of  the  truth  of  Chrillianity. 
 
 And  if  you  was  to  ask  Mundanus^  and 
 Clajficus^  or  any  man  of  bufinefs,  or  learning, 
 whether  ftety  is  not  the  higheft  perfeftion  of 
 man,  ox  devotion  the  greateft  attainment  in 
 the  world,  they  muft  both  be  forced  to  anfwer 
 in  the  affirmative,  or  elfe  give  up  the  truth  of 
 the  Gofpel. 
 
 For  to  fet  any  accompliftimcnt  againft  devo- 
 tion, or  to  think  any  thing,  or  all  things  in 
 the  world,  bears  any  proportion  to  its  excellen- 
 cy ;  is  the  fame  abiurdity  in  a  Chriftian,  as 
 it  would  be  in  a  ^hilofopher  to  prefer  a  meals 
 meat  J  to  the  greateft  improvement  in  know- 
 ledge. 
 
 For  as  ^hilofophy  profeffes  purely  the  fearch 
 and  enquiry  after  knowledge,  fo  Chrlfiianity 
 fuppofes,  intends,  defires  and  aims  at  nothing 
 elle,  but  the  raifing  fallen  man  to  a  divine 
 life,  to  fuch  habits  of  holinefs,  fuch  degrees 
 of  devotion,  as  may  fit  him  to  enter  amongft 
 the  holy  inhabitants  of  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
 ven. 
 
 He  that  does  not  believe  this  of  Chriftiani- 
 ty,  may  be  reckoned  an  infidel;  and  he  that 
 believes  thus  much,  has  faith  enough  to  give 
 liim  a  n^t  judg772ent  of  the  value  of  things, 
 to  fupport  him  in  a  Joupd  vnndy  and  enable 
 
 him 
 
to  a  De<vont  and  Holy  Life.      761 
 
 him  to  conquer  all  the  temptations  which  the 
 world  ftiall  lay  in  his  way. 
 
 To  conclude  this  Chapter.  Devotion  is 
 nothing  elfe,  but  right  apprehefifonSj  and  r'ight 
 affeB'ions  towards  God. 
 
 All  practices  therefore  that  heighten  and 
 improve  our  true  apprehenfions  of  God,  all 
 ways  of  life  that  tend  to  notirtflj^  raife^  and 
 fix  our  afFedions  upon  him,  are  to  be  reckoned 
 fo  many  helps  and  means  to  fill  us  with  de* 
 votion. 
 
 As  Grayer  is  the  proper  fuel  of  this  holy 
 flame,  fo  we  muft  ufe  all  our  care  and  contri- 
 vance to  give  prayer  its  full  power;  as  by  ahnsy 
 felf'dejnal^  frequent  retirements^  and  holy  rea^ 
 dings  J  compofingy^r;72j  for  our  felves,  or  ufing 
 the  beft  we  can  get,  adding  length  of  time, 
 and  obferving  hours  of  Prayer  ;  changing^  im^ 
 frovlngj  ^ViA  flitting  our  devotions  to  the  con- 
 dition of  our  lives,  and  the  ftate  of  our 
 hearts. 
 
 Thofe  who  have  moft  leifure,  feem  more 
 efpecially  call'd  to  a  more  eminent  obfervance 
 of  thefe  holy  rules  of  a  devout  life.  And 
 they  who  by  the  neceffity  of  their  fl:ate, 
 and  not  through  their  own  clioice,  have  buj: 
 little  time  to  employ  thus,  muft  make  the 
 beft  ufe  of  that  little  they  have. 
 
 For  this  is  the  certain  way  of  making  cje-? 
 votion  produce  a  devout  life. 
 
 S3  CHAP. 
 
162  A  Serious  Call 
 
 CHAR     XV. 
 
 Of  chiinthigy  or  fwgmg  of  ^ films  in  our  private 
 devotions.     Of  the  excellency    and   benefit  of 
 this  kind  of  devotion.     Of  the  great  effeBs  It 
 hath  upon  oar  hearts.     Of  the  means  of  per- 
 forming It  In  the  beji  manner. 
 
 YOu  have  fccn  in  the  foregoing  Chapter, 
 what  means  and  methods  you  are  to  ufe, 
 to  raife  and  improve  your  devotion.  How 
 early  you  are  to  begin  your  prayers,  and  what 
 is  to  be  the  fuhjeti  of  your  firfi  devotions  in 
 the   morning. 
 
 There  is  one  thing  ftill  remaining,  that  you 
 muil  be  required  to  obferve,  not  only  as  lit 
 and  proper  to  be  done,  but  as  fuch  as  cannot 
 be  negletled,  without  great  prejudice  to  your 
 devotions.  And  that  is,  to  begin  all  your 
 Prayers  with  a  ^Pfalm. 
 
 This  is  fo  right,  is  fo  beneficial  to  devo- 
 tion, has  fo  much  eff'eB  upon  our  hearts,  that 
 it  may  be  infilled  upon  as  a  common  rule  for  all 
 perlbns. 
 
 I  don't  mean,  that  you  Ihould  read  over  a 
 Pfalm,  but  that  you  Ihould  chant  ox  Jtng  one 
 of  thofe  Pfalms,  which  we  commonly  call  the 
 reading  ^^ films.  Yoi finglng  is  as  much  the 
 proper  ufc  of  a  ^Jalm^  as  devout  fuppDc  at  ion  is 
 the  proper  ufe  of  a  form  of  Pray  en     And  a 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       a  ^5 
 
 Pflilm  only  recid^  is  very  much  like  a  Prayer 
 that  is  only  look'd  over. 
 
 Now  the  method  of  chantlng^i  Pfalm,  fiich 
 as  is  us'd  in  the  Colleges  in  the  UnlverJitteSy 
 and  in  Ibme  Churches ^  is  fuch  as  all  perlbns 
 are  capable  of.  The  change  of  the  voice  in 
 thus  chanting  of  a  Pialm  is  fo  fmall  and  na- 
 tural, that  every  body  is  able  to  do  it,  and 
 yet  fufficient  to  raife  and  keep  up  the  glad- 
 nefs  of  our  hearts. 
 
 You  are  therefore  to  confider  this  chantim 
 of  a  Pfalm,  as  a  necelTary  beginning  of  your 
 devotions,  as  Ibmething  that  is  to  awaken  all 
 that  is  good  and  holy  within  you,  that  is  to  call 
 your  f pints  to  their  proper  duty,  to  fet  you 
 in  your  hc^  pfiure  towards  heaven,  and  tune 
 ail  thd  powers  of  your  foul  to  worfhip  and 
 adoration. 
 
 P'or  there  is  nothing  that  ^o  clears  a  way 
 for  your  prayers,  nothing  that  fo  difperfes  duU 
 nefs  of  heart,  nothing  that  lb  purifies  the  foul 
 from  poor  and  little  paffions,  nothing  that  io 
 opens  heaven,  or  carries  your  heart  fo  near  itj 
 as  thefe y3;;^j  of  praife. 
 
 They  create  a  fenle  and  delight  in  God, 
 they  awaken  holy  defires,  they  teach  you  how 
 to  ask,  and  they  prevail  with  God  to  give^ 
 They  kindle  an  holy  flame,  they  turn  your 
 heart  into  an  altar^  your  prayers  into  ince7ife^ 
 and  carry  them  as  a  fweet-fmelling  favour  to 
 the  throne  of  Grace. 
 
 The  difference  between  finging  and  reading 
 ^  Pfalm^   will  eafily  be  underftood,   if  you 
 
 S  4  confi** 
 
2  ^4  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 confidcr  the  difference  between  reading  and 
 finging  a  common  Jong  that  you  like.  Whilft 
 you  only  read  it,  you  only  like  it,  and  that 
 is  all;  but  as  foon  as  you  JIng  it,  then  you  en- 
 py  it,  you  feel  the  delight  of  it,  it  has  got 
 ^hold  of  you,  your  paffions  keep  pace  with  it, 
 and  you  feel  the  fame  fpirit  within  you,  that 
 there  feems  to  be  in  the  words. 
 
 If  you  was  to  tell  a  perfon  that  has  fuch 
 ii  fong,  that  he  need  not  Jing  it,  that  it  was 
 fafiicient  to  femfe  it ;  he  w^ould  wonder  what 
 5^ou  mean ;  and  would  think  you  as  abfurd,  as 
 if  you  was  to  tell  him,  that  he  fliould  only 
 look  at  hisfoodj  to  fee  whether  it  was  good, 
 l)ut  need  not  eat  it :  For  a  long  of  praife  not 
 fung,  is  very  like  any  other  good  thing  not 
 made  ufe  of. 
 
 You  will  perhaps  fay,  that  finging  is  zpar^ 
 ikular  talent^  that  belongs  only  to  particular 
 people,  and  that  you  have  neither  voice  nor 
 ear  to  make  any  mufick. 
 
 If  you  had  laid  that  finging  is  a  general  ta^ 
 Jenty  and  that  people  ditfer  in  that  as  they  do 
 in  all  other  things,  you  had  faid  fomething 
 much  truer. 
 
 For  how  vaftly  do  people  differ  in  the  ta- 
 lent of  thinkings  which  is  not  only  common 
 to  all  men,  but  feems  to  be  the  very  effence 
 of  human  nature  ?  How  readily  do  Ibme  peo- 
 ple reafon  upon  every  thing  ?  and  how  hardly 
 do  others  reafon  upon  any  thing  ?  How  clear- 
 ly do  fome  people  diicourfe  upon  the  molt  ab- 
 
 ftrufe 
 
to  a  T)e^jotit  and  Holy  Life,      a^^ 
 
 ftrufe  matters  ?  and  how  confufcdly  do  others 
 talk  upon  the  plain elt  lubjecls  ? 
 
 Yet  no  one  defires  to  be  excufed  from 
 thought^  or  reiifon^  or  d'ljconrfe^  becaule  he  has 
 not  thele  talents  as  Ibme  people  have  them. 
 But  it  is  full  as  juft,  for  a  perfon  to  think 
 himfelf  excufed  from  thinlaug  upon  God,  from 
 reafoning  about  his  duty  to  him,  or  d'jfcotirfing 
 about  the  means  of  falvation,  becaufe  he*  has 
 not  thcfe  talents  in  any  jine  degree ;  this  is 
 fullasjuft,  as  for  a  perfon  to  think  himfelf 
 excufed  from  finging  the  praifes  of  God,becaufe 
 he  has  not  a  fine  ear^  or  a  mufical  voice. 
 
 For  as  it  is  fpeciklng^  and  not^r^r^// fpeak- 
 ing,  that  is  a  required  part  of  prayer ;  as  it  is 
 how'mg^  and  not  genteel  bowing,  that  is  a  pro- 
 per part  of  adoration ;  fo  it  is  Jin gt/ig^  and  not 
 artful  fine  finging,  that  is  a  required  way  of 
 praifing  God. 
 
 If  a  perfon  was  to  forbear  praying,  becaufe 
 he  had  an  odd  tone  in  his  voice ;  he  would  have 
 as  gooci  an  excufe  as  he  has,  that  forbears  from 
 fudging  Pfalms,  becaufe  he  has  but  little  ma- 
 nagement of  his  voice.  And  as  a  man's  fpeak- 
 ing  his  prayers,  tho'  in  an  odd  tone,  may  yet 
 fafficicntly  anfwer  all  the  ends  of  his  own  de- 
 votion ;  fo  a  man's  finging  of  a  Pfalm,  tho' 
 not  in  a  very  mufical  way,  may  yet  fufficir 
 ently  anfwer  all  the  ends  of  rejoycing  in^  and 
 praifing  God. 
 
 Secondly^  This  objcftion  might  be  of  fome 
 weight,  if  you  wasdcfired  to  Cng,  to  enter- 
 tain 
 
0.66  A  Serious  Call 
 
 tain  other  people ;  but  is  not  to  be  admitted 
 in  the  prefent  cafe;  where  you  are  only  requi- 
 red to  fing  the  prailes  of  God,  as  a  part  of  your 
 own  private  devotion. 
 
 If  a  perfon  that  has  a  very  ill  voice,  and  a 
 bad  way  of  fpeaking,  was  defir'd  to  be  the 
 mouth  of  a  congregation,  it  would  be  a  very 
 proper  excufe  for  him,  to  fay  that  he  had  not 
 a  voice,  or  a  way  of  fpeaking  that  was  proper 
 for  prayer.  But  he  would  be  very  abfurd,  if 
 for  the  lame  reafon  he  fnould  negled  his  own 
 private  devotions. 
 
 Now  this  is  cxa6lly  the  cafe  of  finging 
 Pfalms ;  you  may  not  have  the  talent  of  fing- 
 ing, fo  as  to  be  able  to  entertain  other  people, 
 and  therefore  it  is  reafonable  to  excufe  your 
 felf  from  it ;  but  if  for  that  reafon  you  ftiould 
 excufe  yourfelf  from  this  way  of  praifing  God, 
 you  would  be  guilty  of  a  great  abfurdity: 
 Becaufe  finging  is  no  more  required  for  the 
 mufick  that  is  made  by  it,  than  prayer  is  re- 
 quired for  the  fine  words  that  it  contains,  but 
 as  it  is  the  natural  and  proper  expreilion  of  a 
 heart  rejoycing  in  God. 
 
 Our  blefiTed  Saviour  and  his  apoftles  fung  an 
 hymn;  but  it  may  realbnably  be  fuppofed, 
 that  they  rather  rejoiced  in  God,  than  made 
 fine  mufick. 
 
 '  Do  but  fo  live,  that  your  heart  may  truly 
 rejoice  in  God,  that  it  may  feel  itfelf  affecled 
 with  the  praifes  of  God,  and  then  you  will 
 find,  that  this  ffate  of  your  heart  will  neither 
 want  a  voice,  nor  ear^   to  find  a  tune  for  a 
 
 PliUm. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      ri6j 
 
 Pfalm.  Every  one  at  tome  time  or  other 
 finds  himicjf  able  to  fing  in  Ibme  degree; 
 there  are  Ibme  times  and  occafions  of  joy,  that 
 make  all  people  ready  to  exprefs  their  lenlc 
 of  it  in  Ibme  iort  of  harmony.  The  joy  that 
 they  feel,  forces  them  to  let  their  voice  have  a 
 part  in  it. 
 
 He  therefore  that  fiiith  he  wants  a  voice,  or 
 an  ear,  to  fing  a  Plalm,  miftakes  the  cafe; 
 he  wants  that  jpr'it  that  really  rejoices  in 
 God ;  the  dulnefs  is  in  his  hearty  and  not  in 
 his  ear:^  and  when  his  heart  feels  a  true  joy  in 
 God,  when  it  has  a  full  relilh  of  what  is  ex- 
 preffed  in  the  Pfalms,  he  will  find  it  very 
 pleaftnt,  to  make  the  motions  of  his  voice 
 exprefs  the  motions  of  his  heart. 
 
 Singing  indeed,  as  it  is  improved  into  an 
 art,  as  it  fignifies  the  running  of  the  voice 
 thro*  fuch  or  fuch  a  compals  of  notes,  and 
 keeping  time  with  a  ftudy'd  variety  of  chan- 
 ges, is  not  natural,  nor  the  efFed  of  any  na- 
 tural ftate  of  the  mind ;  lb  in  this  fenfe,  it  is 
 not  common  to  all  people,  any  more  than  thole 
 anttck  and  Invented  motions  which  make  fine 
 dancings  are  common  to  all  people. 
 
 But  finging,  as  it  fignifies  a  motion  of  the 
 voice  fuitable  to  the  motions  of  the  heart, 
 and  the  changing  of  its  tone  according  to  the 
 meaning  of  tJhe  words  which  we  utter,  is  as 
 natural  and  common  to  all  men,  as  it  is  to 
 fpeak  h'lgh  when  they  threaten  in  anger,  or  to 
 Ipeak  low  when  they  are  dejeded  and  a^k  for  a 
 ^ardon^ 
 
 AU 
 
q68  a  Serious  Call 
 
 All  men  therefore  are  fingers,  in  the  lame 
 manner  as  all  men  t/ohk^  Jp^^^-j  J^tigh^  and 
 lament.  For  Cnging  is  no  more  an  invention, 
 than^ri^'  o'i  ]oy  are  inventions. 
 
 Every  ftate  of  the  heart  naturally  puts  the 
 body  into  Ibme  ftate  that  is  fuitable  to  it,  and 
 is  proper  to  fhew  it  to  other  people.  If  a 
 man  is  c^ngry^  or  d'tfdatnfiil^  no  one  need  in- 
 itruct  him  how  to  exprefs  thefe  paffions  by 
 the  tone  of  his  voice.  The  Jlate  of  his  heart 
 diTpofes  him  to  a  f  roper  ufe  of  his  voice. 
 
 If  therefore  there  are  but  few  fingers  of  dl-- 
 vine  fongs,  if  people  want  to  be  exhorted  to 
 this  fart  of  devotion  \  it  is  becaufe  there  are 
 but  few,  whofe  hearts  are  raffed  to  that 
 height  of  piety,  as  to  feel  any  motions  of  jay 
 and  delight  in  the  praifes  of  God. 
 
 Imagine  to  yourfelf,  that  you  had  been 
 with  Mofes  when  he  was  led  thro'  the  Red  Sea ; 
 that  you  had  feen  the  waters  divide  themfelves, 
 and  ftand  on  an  heap  on  both  fides ;  that  you 
 liad  feen  them  held  up  till  you  had  pafs'd 
 thro''^  then  let  fall  upon  your  enemies;  do 
 you  think  that  you  fhould  then  have  wanted 
 a  vake  or  an  ear  to  have  fiang  with  Mofes^  The 
 Lord  is  my  firengthj  and  my  fong^  and  he  is  he- 
 come  my  fahatmi^  &c.  ?  I  know,  your  own 
 heart  tells  you,  that  all  people  muft  have 
 l[yQ^n  fingers  upon  fuch  an  occafion.  Let  this 
 therefore  teach  you,  that  it  is  the  heart  that 
 tunes  a  voice  to  fing  the  praifes  of  God; 
 and  that  if  you  can't  fing  thefe  fame  words 
 pow  with  joy^  it  is  becaufe  you  are  not  fo  af^ 
 
 fected 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      269 
 
 fcfted  with  the  falvation  of  the  world  by  Jc- 
 lus  Chrift,  as  the  Jezijs  were,  or  you  yourfelf 
 would  have  been,  with  their  deliverance  at  the 
 Red  lea. 
 
 That  it  is  the  Hate  of  the  heart  that  difpo- 
 fcs  us  to  rejoyce  in  any  particular  kind  of  fing- 
 ing,  may  be  eafily  proved  from  variety  of  ob- 
 fervations  upon  human  nature.  An  old  de^ 
 bauchee  may,  according  to  the  language  of  the 
 world,  have  neither  voice  nor  ear^  if  you  only 
 fing  a  ^falrrij  or  a  fong  in  praife  of  virtue  to 
 him;  but  yet  if  in  fome  eafy  tune  you  fing 
 fomething  that  celebrates  Kis  former  dchaiicheSy 
 he  will  then,  tho'  he  has  no  teeth  in  his  head, 
 Ihew  you,  that  he  has  both  a  voice  and  an  air 
 to  join  in  fuch  mufick.  You  then  awaken  his 
 heart,  and  he  as  naturally  fi.ngs  to  fuch  words, 
 as  he  laughs  when  he  is  pkas'd.  And  this 
 will  be  the  cafe  in  every  fong  that  touches  the 
 h^eart ;  if  you  celebrate  the  ruling  paffion  of 
 any  man's  heart,  you  put  his  voice  in  tune  to 
 join  with  you. 
 
 Thus  if  you  can  find  a  man,  whofe  ruling 
 temper  is  devotion,  whofe  heart  is  full  of  God, 
 his  voice  will  rejoice  in  thofe  longs  of  praife, 
 which  glorify  that  God,  that  is  the  joy  of  his 
 heart,  tho'  he  has  neither  voice  nor  ear  for 
 other  mufick.  Would  you  therefore  delight- 
 fully perform  this  part  of  devotion,  it  is  not 
 lb  neceffary  to  learn  a  tune^  or  pradilc  upon 
 notes ^  as  to  prepare  your  heart;  for,  as  our 
 blefled  Lord  faith,  out  of  the  heart  proceed 
 €Vil  thoughts^   murders^  &:c.  fo  it  is  equally 
 
 true^ 
 
a  70  A  Serious  Call 
 
 true,  that  out  of  the  heart  proceed  holy  joysj 
 thankjgiv'ing  and  fra'ife.  If  you  can  once  lay 
 with  David^  My  heart  is  -fixed^  0  God,  my 
 heart  is  jixcd'^  it  will  be  very  ealy  and  natu- 
 ral to  add  5  as  he  did ,  J  'U)'ill  Rng  and  give 
 fraife^  &c» 
 
 Secondly y  Let  us  now  confider  another  rea- 
 Ibn  for  this  kind  of  devotion.  As  finging  is 
 a  natural  effeB  of  joy  in  the  heart,  fo  it  has 
 alio  a  natural  power  of  rendering  the  heart 
 joyful. 
 
 ■  The  Ibul  and  body  are  lb  united,  that  they 
 have  each  of  them  power  over  one  another  in 
 their  actions.  Certain  thoughts  and  fenti- 
 ments  in  the  foul,  produce  fuch  and  luch  mo- 
 tions or  actions  in  the  body ;  and  on  the  other 
 hand,  certain  motions  and  actions  of  the  bo- 
 dy, have  the  fame  power  of  railing  fuch  and 
 iUch  thoughts  and  fentiments  in  the  foul.  So 
 that  as  finging  is  the  natural  effeB  of  joy  in 
 the  mind,  fo  it  is  as  truly  a  natural  cauje  of 
 railing  joy  in  the  mind. 
 
 As  devotion  of  the  heart  naturally  breaks 
 out  into  outward  afts  of  prayer,  lb  outward 
 afts  of  prayer  are  natural  means  of  raifing  the 
 devotion  of  the  heart. 
 
 It  is  thus  in  all  itates  and  tempers  of  the 
 mind ;  as  the  inward  ftate  of  the  mind  produ- 
 ces outward  aftions  fuitable  to  it,  fo  thofe 
 outward  aftions  have  the  like  power  of  rai- 
 fing an  inward  Hate  of  mind  fuitable  to 
 them. 
 
 As 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       a  7 1 
 
 As  anger  produces  angry  words,  fo  angry 
 words  incrcafe  anger. 
 
 So  that  if  wc  barely  confidcr  human  na- 
 ture, we  ftiall  find,  that  fngtng  or  chanting 
 the  Plalms,  is  as  proper  and  neceflary  to  raile 
 our  hearts  to  a  delight  in  God,  as  prayer  is 
 proper  and  neceflary  to  excite  in  us  the  fpirit 
 of  devotion.  Every  realbn  for  one,  is  in  all 
 refpefts  as  ftrong  a  realbn  for  the  other. 
 
 If  therefore  you  would  know  the  realbn 
 and  necelTity  of  finging  Pfalms,  you  muft 
 confider  the  realbn  and  neceffity  of  praifing 
 and  rejoicing  in  God  ;  becaule  finging  of 
 Pfalms  is  as  much  the  true  exerciie  and  fup- 
 port-of  this  fpirit  of  thankfgiving,  as  prayer 
 is  the  true  exercife  and  fupport  of  the  fpirit 
 of  devotion.  And  you  may  as  well  think, 
 that  you  can  be  devout  as  you  ought,  with- 
 out the  ufe  of  prayer,  as  that  you  can  rejoice 
 in  God  as  you  ought,  without  the  pradice  of 
 finging  of  Pfalms.  Becaule  this  finging  is  as 
 much  the  natural  language  of  praife  and  thankf- 
 giving, as  prayer  is  the  natural  language  of 
 devotion. 
 
 The  union  of  foul  and  body  is  not  a  mix- 
 ture of  their  fubftances,  as  we  fee  bodies  uni- 
 ted and  mix'd  together,  but  confifts  folely  in 
 the  mutual  power  that  they  have  of  acting 
 upon  one  another. 
 
 If  two  perfons  w^ere  in  fuch  a  ftate  of  de- 
 
 pendance  upon  one  another,  that  neither  of 
 
 them  could  act,  or  move,  or  think,  or  feel, 
 
 or  fuffer,  or  defire  any  thing,  without  putting 
 
 a  the 
 
a 7^  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 the  other  nito  the  fame  condition,  one  might 
 properly  lay,  that  they  were  in  a  ftate  of 
 ftrid  union,  although  their  fubftanccs  were 
 not  united  together. 
 
 Now  this  is  the  union  of  the  foul  and  bo- 
 dy^ the  lubftance  of  the  one  cannot  be  mix'dy 
 or  united  with  the  other  >  but  they  are  held 
 together  in  fuch  a  ftate  of  union,  that  all  the 
 aftions  and  fufferings  of  the  one,  are  at  the 
 fame  time  theadions  and  fufferings  of  the  other. 
 The  foul  has  no  thought  or  paffion,  but  the 
 body  is  concerned  in  it^  the  body  has  no  adi- 
 on  or  motion,  but  what  in  fome  degree  affeds 
 the  foul. 
 
 Now  as  it  is  the  ible  will  of  God,  that  is 
 the  reafon  and  cauje  of  all  the  powers  and 
 efFefts  which  you  fee  in  the  w^orld ;  as  the  Sun 
 gives  light  and  heat,  not  becaufe  it  has  any 
 natural  power  of  fo  doing  ^  as  it  is  fix'd  in  a 
 certain  place,  and  other  bodies  moving  about 
 it ;  not  becaufe  it  is  in  the  nature  of  the  Sun 
 to  ftand  ftill,  and  in  the  nature  of  other  bo- 
 dies to  move  about  it ;  but  merely  becaufe  it 
 is  the  will  of  God,  that  they  fnould  be  in 
 fuch  a  ftate.  As  the  eye  is  the  organ,  or  in- 
 ftrument  of  feeing  ,  not  becaufe  the  skifis  j 
 and  coats^  and  humours  of  the  eye,  have  a 
 natural  power  of  giving  fight:  As  the  ears 
 are  the  organs  ,  or  inftruments  of  hearing  y 
 not  becaufe  the  make  of  the  ear  has  any  na- 
 tural power  over  founds,  but  merely  becaufe 
 it  is  the  will  of  God,  that  feeing  and  hearing 
 ftiouid  be  thus  rcceiy'd:   So  in  like  manner  it 
 
to  a  T)e^out  and  Holy  Life.      275 
 
 is  the  fole  will  of  God,  and  not  the  nature  of 
 a  human  ibul  or  body,  that  is  the  caufe  of 
 this  union  betwixt  the  foul  and  the  body. 
 
 Now  if  you  rightly  apprehend  this  Ihort 
 account  of  the  union  of  the  foul  and  body, 
 you  will  fee  a  great  deal  into  the  reafon  and 
 neceffity  of  all  the  outward  parts  of  Re- 
 ligion. 
 
 This  union  of  our  fouls  and  bodies,  is  the 
 reafon  both  why  we  have  lb  little  and  1lo 
 much  power  over  our  felves.  It  is  owing  to 
 this  union,  that  we  have  fo  little  power 
 over  our  fouls ;  for  as  we  cannot  prevent 
 the  effeds  of  external  objects  upon  our  bo- 
 dies, as  we  cannot  command  outward  caufes, 
 fo  we  cannot  always  command  the  inward 
 ftate  of  our  minds ;  becaufe ,  as  outward 
 objeds  ad  upon  our  bodies  without  our 
 leave,  fo  our  bodies  ad  upon  our  minds  by 
 the  laws  of  the  union  of  the  foul  and  the 
 body :  And  thus  you  fee  it  is  owing  to  this 
 union,  that  we  have  fo  little  power  over  our 
 felves. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  it  is  owing  to  this 
 union,  that  we  have  fo  much  power  over  our 
 lelves.  For  as  our  fouls  in  a  great  meafure 
 depend  upon  our  bodies ;  and  as  we  have  great 
 power  over  our  bodies,  as  we  can  command 
 our  outward  adions,  and  oblige  our  lelves  to 
 fuch  habits  of  life,  as  naturally  produce  ha- 
 bits in  the  foul;  as  we  can  mortify  our  bo- 
 dies, and  remove  our  lelves  from  objeds  that 
 
 T  inflame 
 
Q-74  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 inflame  our  paffions ;  fo  we  have  a  great  power 
 over  the  i/nvani  ftate  of  our  fouls.  Again, 
 as  we  are  mailers  of  our  outward  adions ;  as 
 we  can  force  our  felves  to  outward  acts  of 
 reading,  praying,  finging,  and  the  like;  and 
 as  all  thcfe  bodily  actions  have  an  effcd  upon 
 the  foul,  as  they  naturally  tend  to  form  fuch 
 and  fuch  tempers  in  our  hearts;  fo  by  being 
 mailers  of  thefe  outward,  bodily  aftions,  we 
 have  great  power  over  the  inward  llate  of  the 
 heart. 
 
 And  thus  it  is  owing  to  this  union,  that 
 we  have  fo  much  power  over  our  felves. 
 
 Now  from  this  you  may  alio  lee  the  neceC- 
 fity  and  benefit  of  linging  Pfalms,  and  of  all 
 the  outward  afts  of  Religion  ;  for  if  the  body 
 has  fo  much  power  over  the  foul,  it  is  certain 
 that  all  fuch  bodily  aftions  as  affed  the  foul, 
 are  of  great  weight  in  Religion.  Not  as  if 
 there  was  any  true  worlhip,  or  piety  in  the 
 actions  themfelves,  but  becaufe  they  are  pro- 
 per to  raile  and  liipport  that  ffint^  which  is 
 the  true  worlhip  of  God. 
 
 Though  therefore  the  feat  of  Religion  is  in 
 the  heart,  yet  fince  our  bodies  have  a  power 
 over  our  hearts,  fince  outward  actions  both 
 proceed  from,  and  enter  into  the  heart,  it  is 
 plain,  that  outward  actions  have  a  great  power 
 over  that  Religion  which  is  feated  in  the 
 heart. 
 
 We  are  therefore  as  well  to  ufe  outward 
 helps,  as  inward  meditation,  in  order  to  be- 
 get and  fix  habits  of  piety  in  our  hearts. 
 
 This 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      *iyt^ 
 
 This  dodrine  may  eafily  be  carry'd  too  far; 
 for  by  calling  in  too  many  outward  means  of 
 worlhip,  it  may  degenerate  into  fuperftition : 
 as  on  the  other  hand,  fome  have  fallen  into 
 the  contrary  extreme.  For  becaufe  Religion 
 is  juftly  plac'd  in  the  heart,  Ibme  have  pur- 
 fued  that  notion  fo  far,  as  to  renounce  vocal 
 prayer,  and  other  outward  acts  of  worfhip, 
 and  have  refolved  all  Religion  into  a  qme-- 
 tlffrij  or  7nyJ}ic  intercourfes  with  God  in  fi-^ 
 lence. 
 
 Now  thefe  are  two  extremes  equally  preju- 
 dicial to  true  Religion;  and  ought  not  to  be 
 objected  either  againft  internal,  or  external 
 w^orfhip.  As  you  ought  not  to  lay,  that  I  en- 
 courage that  qtuettjin^  by  placing  religion  in 
 the  heart ;  fo  neither  ought  you  to  fay,  that  I 
 encourage  fuperftition,  by  fhewing  the  bene- 
 fit of  outward  ads  of  worftiip. 
 
 For  fince  we  are  neither  all  fottl^  nor  all 
 Icdy  ;  feeing  none  of  our  actions  are  either  fe- 
 parately  of  the  Ibul,  or  feparately  of  the  bo- 
 dy ;  feeing  wx  have  no  habits  but  fuch  as  are 
 produced  by  the  aftions  both  of  our  fouls  and 
 bodies ;  it  is  certain,  that  if  we  would  arrive 
 at  habits  of  devotion,  or  delight  in  God,  we 
 muft  not  only  meditate  and  exercife  our  fouls^ 
 but  we  mult  pra6tile  and  exercife  our  bodies 
 to  all  fuch  outward  actions,  as  are  conforma- 
 ble to  thefe  inward  tempers. 
 
 If  we  would  truly  proftrate  our  fouls  before 
 God,  wx  muft  ufe  our  bodies  to  poftures  of 
 lowlinefs ;  if  we  defire  true  fervours  of  devo- 
 
 T  2  tioa 
 
^^6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 tion,  we  muft  make  prayer  the  frequent  la- 
 bour of  our  lips.  If  we  would  banifh  all 
 pride  and  paffion  from  our  hearts,  we  muft 
 force  our  felves  to  all  outward  actions  of  pati- 
 ence and  meeknefs.  If  we  would  feel  in- 
 \l'ard  motions  of  joy  and  delight  in  God,  we 
 muft  praftife  all  the  outward  afts  of  it,  and 
 make  our  voices  call  upon  our  hearts. 
 
 Now  therefore,  you  may  plainly  fee  the 
 reafon  and  neceffity  of  Jinghg  of  ^falms  \  it  is 
 becaufe  outward  aftions  are  neceflary  to  fup- 
 port  inward  tempers ;  and  therefore  the  out- 
 ward aft  of  joy  is  neceflary  to  raife  and  fup- 
 port  the  inward  joy  of  the  mind. 
 
 If  any  people  were  to  leave  off  prayer,  be- 
 caufe they  feldom  find  the  motions  of  their 
 hearts  anfwering  the  words  which  they  fpeak, 
 you  would  charge  them  with  great  abfurdity. 
 You  would  think  it  very  realbnable,  that  they 
 fliould  continue  their  prayers,  and  be  ftrift  in 
 obferving  all  times  of  prayer,  as  the  moft 
 likely  means  of  removing  the  dulnefs  and  in- 
 devotion  of  their  hearts. 
 
 Now  this  is  very  much  the  cafe  as  to  fing- 
 ing  of  Pfalms;  people  often  fing  without 
 finding  any  inward  joy  fuitable  to  the  words 
 which  they  fpeak ;  therefore  they  are  careleis 
 of  it,  or  wholly  negleft  it  ^  not  confidcring, 
 that  they  aft  as  ablurdly,  as  he  that  ftiould 
 negleft  prayer ,  becaufe  his  heart  was  not 
 enough  affefted  with  it.  For  it  is  certain, 
 that  this  finging  is  as  much  the  natural  means 
 
 of 
 
to  a  De^OHt  and  Holy  Life,      ijy 
 
 of  raifing  motions  of  joy  in  the  mind ,  as 
 prayer  is  the  natural  means  of  raifing  devo- 
 tion. 
 
 I  have  been  the  longer  upon  this  head,  be- 
 caufe  of  its  great  importance  to  true  religion. 
 For  there  is  no  ftate  of  mind  fo  holy,  lb  ex- 
 cellent, and  &  truly  perfed,  as  that  of  thank- 
 fnlnefs  to  God;  and  confequently  nothing  is 
 of  more  importance  in  Religion,  than  that 
 which  exercifes  and  improves  this  habit  of 
 mind. 
 
 A  dull^  uneafy^  cofnplamtng  fpirit,  which  is 
 Ibmetimes  the  fpirit  of  thole  that  leem  care- 
 ful of  Religion ,  is  yet  of  all  tempers  the 
 moft  contrary  to  Religion,  for  it  difowns  that 
 God  which  it  pretends  to  adore.  For  he  fuC 
 ficiently  difowns  God,  who  does  not  adore 
 him  as  a  Being  of  infinite  goodnefs. 
 
 If  a  man  does  not  believe  that  all  the 
 world  is  as  God's  family,  where  nothing  hap- 
 pens by  chance,  but  all  is  guided  and  direfted 
 by  the  care  and  providence  of  a  Being  that  is 
 all  love  and  goodnefs  to  all  his  creatures ;  if  a 
 man  do  not  believe  this  frojn  his  heart,  he 
 cannot  be  faid  truly  to  believ^  in  God.  And 
 yet  he  that  has  this  faith,  hasi  faith  enough  to 
 overcome  the  world,  and  always  be  thankful 
 to  God.  For  he  that  believes  that  every  thing 
 happens  to  him  for  the  heftj  cannot  poffibly 
 complain  for  the  want  of  fomething  that  is 
 better. 
 
 If  therefore  you  live  in  murmu rings  and 
 ipomplaints,  accufing  all  the  accidents  of  life, 
 
 T  3  it 
 
^7? 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 it  is  not  becaufe  you  are  a  weak,  infirm  crea- 
 ture, but  it  is  becaufe  you  want  the  firlt  prin- 
 ciple of  Religion,  a  right  belief  in  God.  For 
 as  thankfalnefs  is  an  exprefs  acknowledgment 
 of  the  goodnefs  of  God  towards  you,  lb  repi- 
 nings  and  complaints  are  as  plain  accufations 
 of  God's  want  of  goodnefs  towards  you. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  would  you  know  who 
 Is  the  greateft  Saint  in  the  world?  It  is  not  he 
 wlio  prays  moft,  or  fajis  moft ;  it  is  not  he 
 who  gives  moft  alms^  or  is  moft  eminent  for 
 temperance,  chaftity  or  juftice;  but  it  is  he 
 who  is  always  thankjtd  to  God,  who  wills  eve- 
 ry thing  that  God  willeth^  who  receives  every 
 thing  as  an  inftance  of  God's  goodnefs,  and 
 has  a  heart  always  ready  to  praife  God  for 
 it. 
 
 All  prayer  and  devotion,  faftings  and  re- 
 pentance, meditation  and  retirement,  all  fa- 
 craments  and  ordinances ,  are  but  fo  many 
 means  to  render  the  foul  thus  divine,  and  con- 
 formable to'  the  will  of  God,  and  to  fill  it 
 with  thankfulnefs  and  praife  for  every  thing 
 that  comes  from  God.  This  is  the  perfection 
 of  all  virtues ;  and  all  virtues  that  do  not 
 tend  to  it,  or  proceed  from  it,  are  but  fo  ma- 
 ny falfe  ornaments  of  a  foul  not  converted 
 tinto  God. 
 
 You  need  not  therefore  now  wonder,  that 
 I  lay  fo  much  ftrefs  upon  finging  a  Pfalm 
 at  all  your  devotions,  fince  you  fee  it  is  to 
 form  your  fpirit  to  fuch  joy  and  thankfulnefs 
 
 tQ 
 
to  a  Dezfout  and  Holy  Life.      2  jp 
 
 to  God,  as  is  the  higheft  perfedion  of  a  di- 
 vine and  holy  life. 
 
 If  any  one  would  tell  yon  the  Ihorteft, 
 fureft  way  to  all  happinefs,  and  all  perfedion, 
 he  muft  tell  you  to  make  it  a  rule  to  your 
 felf,  to  thdfjk.  lvhI  praije  Gcd  for  every  thing 
 that  happens  to  you.  For  it  is  certain,  that 
 whatever  feeming  calamity  happens  to  you, 
 if  you  thank  and  praife  God  for  it,  you  turn, 
 it  into  a  bleffing.  Could  you  therefore  work 
 miracles,  you  could  not  do  more  for  your  felf, 
 than  by  this  thankful  f pi r It ^  for  it  heals  with 
 a  word  fpeaking,  and  turns  all  that  it  touches 
 into  happinefs. 
 
 If  therefore  you  would  be  fo  true  to  your 
 eternal  intereft,  as  to  propofe  this  thankfulnefs 
 as  the  end  of  all  your  Religion  ^  if  you  would 
 but  lettle  it  in  your  mind,  that  this  was  the 
 ftate  that  you  was  to  aim  at  by  all  your  de- 
 votions, you  would  then  have  fomething  plaia 
 and  vifible  to  walk  by  in  all  your  adions,  you 
 would  then  eafily  fee  the  effed  of  your  vir- 
 tues, and  might  fafcly  judge  of  your  improve- 
 ment in  piety.  For  lb  far  as  you  renounce  all 
 felfifh  tempers,  and  motions  of  your  own 
 will,  and  leek  for  no  other  happinefs,  but  in 
 the  thankful  reception  of  every  thing  that 
 happens  to  you,  lb  far  you  may  be  fafely 
 reckoned  to  have  advanced  in  piety« 
 
 And  altho'  this  be  the  higheft  temper  that 
 you  can  aim  at,  tho'  it  be  the  nobleft  facrifice 
 that  the  greateft  faint  can  offer  unto  God,  yet 
 i§  It  not  ty'd  to  any  time^  or  place^  or  great 
 
 T  4  occaA* 
 
a  So  A  Serious  Call 
 
 occafion,  but  is  always  in  your  power,  and 
 may  be  the  exercife  of  every  day.  P'or  the 
 common  events  of  every  day  are  fufficient  to 
 difcover  and  exercife  this  temper,  and  may 
 plainly  fliew  you  how  far  you  are  governed  in 
 all  your  actions  by  this  thankful  fpirit. 
 
 And  for  this  reafon  I  exhort  you  to  this 
 rnethoci  in  your  devotion,  that  every  day  may 
 be  made  a  day  of  thankfgiving,  and  that  the 
 fpirit  of  murmur  and  difcontent  may  be  un- 
 able to  enter  into  the  heart,  which  is  lb  often 
 employed  in  finging  the  praifes  of  God. 
 
 It  may  perhaps  after  all  be  objected,  that 
 although  the  great  benefit,  and  excellent 
 efFeds  of  this  pradice  are  very  apparent,  yet 
 it  feems  not  altogether  fo  fit  for  private  de- 
 votions ;  fince  it  can  hardly  be  performed 
 without  making  our  devotions  publick  to 
 other  people,  and  feems  alfo  liable  to  the 
 charge  oi  founding  a  trumpet  at  our  prayers. 
 
 It  is  therefore  anfwer'd,  Flrji^  That  great 
 numbers  of  People  have  it  in  their  power  to 
 be  as  private  as  they  pleafej  fuch  perfons 
 therefore  are  excluded  from  this  excufe,  which 
 however  it  may  be  fo  to  others,  is  none  to 
 them.  Therefore  let  fuch  take  the  benefit  of 
 this  excellent  devotion. 
 
 Secondly^  Numbers  of  people  are  by  the 
 necejjity  of  their  ftate,  as  fcrvants^  appren- 
 tices^ prifonersy  and  families  in  fmall  houfes, 
 forc'd  to  be  continually  in  the  prefence,  or 
 fight  of  fomcbody  or  other. 
 
 Now 
 
to  a  Dc'vout  and  Holy  Life.      2 Si 
 
 Now  are  fuch  perlbns  to  ncgleft  their 
 prayers^  becaule  they  cannot  pray  without 
 '.being  leen  ?  Are  they  not  rather  obhg'd  to  be 
 more  exaft  in  them,  that  others  may  not  be 
 witnefles  of  their  negled,  and  lb  corrupted  by 
 their  example? 
 
 Now  what  is  here  faid  of  devotion,  may 
 furely  be  laid  of  this  chanting  a  ^falm^  which 
 is  only  a  part  of  devotion. 
 
 The  rule  is  this ;  Don't  pray  that  you  may 
 he  feen  of  men,  but  if  your  confinement  obli- 
 ges you  to  be  always  in  the  fight  of  others, 
 be  more  afraid  of  being  feen  to  negleB^  than 
 of  being  feen  to  have  recoiirfe  to  prayer. 
 
 ^hlrdly^  The  fhort  of  the  matter  is  this. 
 Either  people  can  ufe  fuch  privacy  in  this 
 practice,  as  to  have  no  hearers,  or  they  can- 
 not. If  they  can,  then  this  objeftion  vanifhes 
 as  to  them:  And  if  they  cannot,  theyfliould 
 confider  their  confinement^  and  the  necejfittes  of 
 their  Itate,  as  the  confinement  of  a  frlfon\ 
 and  then  they  have  an  excellent  pattern  to 
 follow,  they  may  imitate  St.  ^^anl  and  Silasy 
 whofiang  fratfies  to  God  In  pnfion^  though  we 
 are  exprefly  told,  that  the  frifoners  heard 
 them.  They  therefore  did  not  refrain  from 
 this  kind  of  devotion  for  fear  of  being  heard 
 by  others.  If  therefore  any  one  is  in  the 
 fame  neceffity,  either  inprifion  or  out  of  prifon, 
 -what  can  he  do  better,  than  to  follow  this 
 example  ? 
 
 I  cannot  pafs  by  this  place  of  Scripture, 
 ■VV'ithout  defiring  the  pious  reader  to  obferve, 
 
 how 
 
aS2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 howftrongly  weareherecaird  upon  to  this  nfe 
 of  Pfalms,  and  what  a  mighty  recommendation 
 of  it,  the  practice  of  thele  two  great  Saints  is. 
 
 In  this  their  great  diftrels,  in  fr'tfon^  in 
 chains^  under  the  Ibrenefs  of  firipes^  in  the 
 horror  of  nighty  the  dlvmefi^  hoVieji  thing 
 they  could  do,  was  to  Jing  pralfes  unto  God, 
 
 And  fhall  we  after  this,  need  any  exhorta- 
 tion to  this  holy  praftice?  Shall  we  let  the  day 
 pafs  without  fuch  thankfgivings,  as  they  would 
 not  neglect  in  th^ntghtl  Shall  2l  frijbn^  chains^ 
 and  darknefsj  furnilh  them  withfongs  of  praife, 
 and  Ihall   we  have  no  fingings  in  our  clofets  ? 
 
 Farther,  let  it  alfo  be  obferv^d,  that  while 
 
 theie  two  holy  men  wxre  thus  employed  in 
 
 the  moft  exalted  pait  of  devotion,  doing  that 
 
 .  on  earthy  which  Angels  do  in  Hea^ 
 
 veUj  thz.t  the  foundations  of  the  pri" 
 
 fan  were  fhahen^  all  the  doors  were  opened^  and 
 
 every  ones  bands  were  loofed. 
 
 And  Ihall  we  now  ask  for  motives  to  this 
 divine  exercife,  when  inftead  of  arguments^ 
 we  have  here  fuch  miracles  to  convince  us  of 
 its  mighty  power  with  God? 
 
 Could  God  by  a  voice  from  Heaven  more 
 exprefsly  call  us  to  thefe  longs  of  praife,  than 
 by  thus  fhewing  us,  how  he  hcarSy  delivers^ 
 and  rezvards  thole  that  ufe  them  ? 
 
 But  this  by  the  way,  I  now  return  to  the 
 objedion  inhand;  and  anfwer  Fourthly j  That 
 the  privacy  of  our  prayers  is  not  deftroy*d  by 
 our  having^  but  by  our  feekin^  witneffes  of 
 them. 
 
 If 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      283 
 
 If  therefore  no  body  hears  you  but  thofe 
 
 you  cannot  feparateyour  Iclf  from,  you  areas 
 
 much  infecret^  and  your  Father  who  feeth  in 
 
 fecret^  will  as  truly  reward  your  fecrecy,  as  if 
 
 you  was  ^Q^n  by  him  alone. 
 
 Fifthly^  Private  prayer,  as  it  is  opposed  to 
 prayer  in  fublkkj  does  not  fuppofe,  that  no 
 one  is  to  have  any  witnefs  of  it.  For  husbands 
 and  wives  J  brothers  2inA  Jijiers^  parents  and 
 children^  mafiers  zndfervants^  tutors  and  pupils^ 
 are  to  bewitnelTes  to  one  another  of  fuch  devo- 
 tion, as  may  truly  and  properly  be  call'd  pri- 
 vate. It  is  flir  from  being  a  duty  to  conceal 
 fuch  devotion  from  fuch  near  rela.tions. 
 
 In  all  thefe  cafes  therefore,  where  luch  re- 
 lations fometimes  pray  together  in  private, 
 and  fometimes  apart  by  themfelves ,  the 
 chanting  of  a  Pfalm  can  have  nothing  objected 
 againft  it. 
 
 Our  blefTed  Lord  commands  us,  when  we 
 fafij  to  anoint  our  heads^  and  wafh  our  faceSy 
 that  we  appear  not  unto  men  to  faji^  but  unto 
 our  Father  which  is  infecret. 
 
 But  this  only  means,  that  we  muft  not 
 make  publick  ojientation  to  the  world  of  our 
 faftng.^ 
 
 For  if  no  one  was  tofaft  in  private^  or  could 
 be  faid  to  faft  in  private,  but  he  that  had  no 
 w^itnelTes  of  it,  no  one  could  keep  a  private 
 fift,  but  he  that  liv'd  by  himfelf :  For  every 
 flimily  muft  know  who  fafts  in  it.  Therefore 
 the  privacy  of  fefting  does  not  fuppofe  fuch  a 
 privacy  as  excludes  every  body  from  knowing 
 
 it, 
 
a 84  •^  Serious  Call 
 
 it,   but  fuch  a  privacy  as  does  not  feefc  to  be 
 known  abroad. 
 
 Cornel} us  the  devout  Centurion,   of  whom 
 the  Scripture  faith,  that  he  ^ave 
 
 Art*?  TC    '^  7 
 
 mucPj  and  prayed  to  God  alway^ 
 faith  unto  St,  ^eter^joiir  days  ago  I  wasfajlhig 
 nnttl  this  hour. 
 
 Now  that  this  fafting  was  fufficiently^rii^^/'^ 
 and  acceptable  to  God,  appears  from  the  vifion 
 of  an  Jngelj  with  which  the  holy  man  was 
 blels'd  at  that  time. 
 
 But  that  it  was  not  fo  private,  as  to  be 
 entirely  unknown  to  others,  appears,  as  from 
 the  relation  of  it  here,  fo  from  what  is  faid 
 in  another  place,  that  he  call'd  two 
 cf  his  hoiifhold  fervants^  and  a  de- 
 vout foldier  of  them  that  waited  upon  him  conti- 
 nually. So  that  Cornelius  his  falling  was  lb 
 far  from  being  unknown  to  his  family,  that 
 the  foldiers  and  they  of  his  houfliold  were 
 made  devout  themfelves,  by  contimuilly  wai- 
 ting upon  him,  that  is,  by  feeing  and  parta- 
 king of  his  good  works. 
 
 The  whole  of  the  matter  is  this.  Great 
 part  of  the  world  can  be  as  private  as  they 
 pieafe,  therefore  let  them  ule  this  excellent  de- 
 votion between  God  and  themfelves. 
 
 As  therefore  the  privacy  or  excellency  of 
 falling  is  not  deftroy'd  by  being  known  to 
 Ibme  particular  peribns,  neither  would  the 
 privacy  or  excellency  of  your  devotions  be  hurt, 
 though  by  chanting  a  Pfalm,  you  ihould  be 
 heard  by  ibme  of  your  family. 
 
 Another 
 
to  a  De^voHt  and  Holy  Life.      a  8  ^ 
 
 An&thcr  greats  fart  of  the  world  muft  and 
 ought  to  have  witncflcs  of  feveral  of  their 
 devotions  ;  let  them  therefore  not  negleft  the 
 life  of  a  ^fahn  at  fach  times  as  it  ought  to 
 be  known  to  thofe  with  whom  they  live,  that 
 they  do  not  negled  their  prayers.  For  furcly, 
 there  can  be  no  harm  in  being  known  to  be 
 ^;;^i;;^  a  Pfalm,  ^t  Jiich  times  as  it  ONght  to 
 be  known  that  you  are  at  your  prayers. 
 
 And  if  at  other  times,  you  defire  to  be  in 
 fuch  fecrecy  at  your  devotions,  as  to  have  no 
 body  fufped  it,  and  for  that  reafon  forbear 
 your  ^falm ;  I  have  nothing  to  objed  againft 
 it :  Provided,  that  at  the  knovv^n  hours  of 
 prayer,  you  never  omit  this  praftice. 
 
 For  who  would  not  be  often  doing  that 
 in  the  day^  which  St.  ^^^//and  Silas  would  not 
 negleft  in  the  middle  of  the  night?  And  if 
 when  you  are  thus  finging,  it  Ihould  come  into 
 your  head,  how  the  prifon  flmk!d^  and  the 
 doors  open'dy  when  St. '^^^^Z  fang,  it  would  do 
 your  devotion  no  harm. 
 
 Lajily^  Seeing  our  imaginations  have  great 
 power  over  our  hearts,  and  can  mightily  af- 
 feft  us  with  their  reprejentatlons^  it  would  be 
 of  great  ufe  to  you,  if  at  the  beginning  of 
 your  devotions,  you  was  to  imagine  to  your 
 lelf  fome  fuch  reprefentations,  as  might  heat 
 and  warm  your  heart  into  a  temper  faitable  to 
 thofe  prayers  that  you  are  then  about  to  offer 
 unto  GoJ. 
 
 As  thus;  before  you  begin  your  ?y7//;;2  of 
 praife  and  rejoycing  in  God,  make  this  uie 
 pf  your  imagination.  ,  Be 
 
'2^6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Be  ftill,  and  imaghie  to  your  felf,  that  you 
 faw  the  heavens  open,  and  the  glorious  Choirs 
 of  Cherubims  and  Seraphims  about  the  throne 
 of  God.  Imagine  that  you  hear  the  mufick 
 of  thole  Angelick  voices  that  ceafe  not  day  I 
 and  night  to  ling  the  glories  of  him  that  Isy 
 and  wasy  and  is  to  come. 
 
 Help  your  imagination  with  fuch  paffages 
 of  Scripture  as  thefe.  Revel,  vii.  9.  I  beheldy 
 and  lo  in  heaven  a  great  fnultitude  which  no  man 
 could  number  J  of  all  nations^  and  kindreds  ^  and 
 feople^  and  tongues^  (landing  before  the  thro^ie^and 
 before  the  lamb^  cloath'd  with  white  robeSy  and 
 falms  in  their  hands.  And  they  cried  with  a 
 loud  voicej  Salvation  to  our  God  which  Jitteth 
 upon  the  throne^  and  unto  the  lawih. 
 
 And  all  the  angels  flood  round-about  the 
 throne^  and  fell  before  the  throne  on  their  faces ^ 
 and  worf dipped  God^  f tying j  Amen:  BleJ/ing^ 
 and  glory  J  and  wifdom^  and  thanhfgivingy  and  ho^ 
 noury  and  power  y  andjirength^  be  unto  Gody  for 
 ever  and  ever.    Amen. 
 
 Think  upon  this  till  your  imagination  has 
 carried  you  above  the  clouds,  till  it  has  plac'd 
 you  amongft  thofe  heavenly  beings,  and  made 
 you  long  to  bear  a  part  in  their  eternal  mufick. 
 
 If  you  will  but  ufe  your  felf  to  this  me- 
 thod, and  let  your  imagination  dwell  upon 
 fuch  reprefentations  as  thele,  you  will  loon 
 find  it  to  be  an  excellent  means  of  raifing  the 
 Ipirit  of  devotion  within  you. 
 
 Always   therefore   begin    your   ^falm^    or 
 
 Song  of  praife,  with  thele  imaginations  '^^xvdi  at 
 
 1  cyery 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      287 
 
 every  verfe  of  it,  imagine  your  felf  amongft 
 thofe  heavenly  companions,  that  your  voice 
 is  added  to  theirs,  and  that  Jugels  join  with 
 you,  and  you  with  them  ;  and  that  you  with 
 a  poor  and  low  voice  are  finging  that  on  earth, 
 which  they  are  finging  in  heaven. 
 
 Again,  Sometimes  hnaguie  that  you  had 
 been  one  of  thole  that  joined  with  our  bleffed 
 Saviour  when  he  Jung  an  Hymn,  Strive  to 
 imagine  to  your  lelf,  wuth  what  majefly  he 
 looked  ;  fancy  that  you  had  flood  clofe  by  him 
 furrounded  with  his  glory.  Think  how  your 
 heart  would  have  been  inflom'd^  what  ecflajtcs 
 of  joy  you  would  have  then  felt,  Vs'htn  Jtnging 
 with  the  Son  of  God.  Think  again  and 
 again,  with  what  joy  and  devotion  you  would 
 then  have  fung,  had  this  been  really  your  hap- 
 py ftate,  and  what  a  punifhment  you  fliould 
 have  thought  it,  to  have  been  then  filent; 
 and  let  this  teach  you  how  to  be  afFeded  with 
 ^falms  and  Hymns  of  thankfgiving. 
 
 Again,  Sometimes  imagine  to  your  felf, 
 that  you  faw  holy  David  with  his  hands  upon 
 his  harp^  and  his  eyes  fix'd  upon  heaven^ 
 calling  in  tranfport  upon  all  the  Creation, 
 Sun  and  Moon^  light  and  darknefs^  day  and 
 nighty  ?nen  and  angels^  to  joyn  with  his  raptu- 
 rous Ibulin  praifing  the  Lord  of  Heaven. 
 
 Dwell  upon  this  imagination,  till  you 
 think  you  are  finging  with  this  divine  mufi- 
 cian,  and  let  fuch  a  companion  teach  you  to 
 exalt  your  heart  unto  God  in  the  following 
 Pfalm;  wdiich  you  may  ufe  conftantly  firft 
 in  the  morning,  Pfalm 
 
2  88  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Pialm  cxlv.  I  will  7nagmfy  thee^  0  God  mf 
 k'/ng :  afid  I  will  fraife  thy  name  for  ever  and 
 every  &c. 
 
 Thele  following  Pialms,  as  the  34th,  ^6xhj 
 103d,  I  nth,  I46^th,  147th,  are  fuch  as  won- 
 derfully fet  forth  the  glory  of  God  ;  and  there- 
 fore you  may  keep  to  any  one  of  them  at  any 
 particular  hour,  as  you  like :  Or  you  may 
 take  the  fineft  parts  of  any  Pfalms,  and  fo  ad- 
 ding them  together,  may  make  them  fitter 
 for  your  own  devotion. 
 
 I  -  V  .    .  -.    -  — -^- ^ 
 
 CHAP.     XVL 
 
 tieCGmmending  devotions  at  nine  o'clock  in  themor- 
 nhigy  called  in  Scripture^  theXKiidi  hour  of  the 
 day.     Thefubje£l  ofthefe  prayers^  is  humility* 
 
 I  Am  now  come  to  another  hour  of  prayer, 
 which  in  Scripture  is  called  the  third  hour 
 ot  the  day ;  but  according  to  our  way  of  num- 
 bering the  hours,  it  is  called  the  ninth  hour 
 of  the  morning. 
 
 The  devout  Chriftian  muft  at  this  time  look 
 upon  himfelf  as  called  upon  by  God  to  renew 
 his  ads  of  prayer,  and  addrefs  himfelf  again 
 to  the  throne  of  grace. 
 
 There  is  indeed  no  exprefs  command  in, 
 Scripture  to  repeat  our  devotions  at  this  hour. 
 But  then  it  is  to  be  confider'd  alfo,  that  nei- 
 ther is  there  any  exprefs  command  to  begin 
 and  end  the  day  with  prayer.  So  that  if  that 
 be  looked  upon  as  a  reafon  for  negle£l:ing  de- 
 
 yotioa 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life,     a  8^ 
 
 Votion  at  this  hour,  it  may  as  well  be  urged 
 as  a  realbn,  for  neglecting  devotion  both  at 
 the  beginning  and  end  of  the  day. 
 
 But  if  the  praftice  of  the  faints  in  all  ages 
 of  the  world,  if  the  cuftoms  of  the  pious 
 yews  and  primitive  Chriftians  be  of  any  force 
 with  us,  we  have  authority  enough  to  perfuade 
 us,  to  make  this  hour  a  conftant  leafon  of  de- 
 votion. 
 
 The  Scriptures  fhcw  us  how  this  hour  was 
 confecrated  to  devotion  both  by  yews  and 
 Chriftians;  fo  that  if  we  defire  to  number  our 
 felves  amongft  thofe  whofe  hearts  were  devo- 
 ted unto  God,  we  muft  not  let  this  hour  pafs, 
 without  prefenting  us  to  him  in  fome  folem- 
 nities  of  devotion.  And  befides  this  autho- 
 rity for  this  pradice,  the  reafonablenefs  of  it 
 is  fufficient  to  invite  us  to  the  oblervance  of 
 it. 
 
 For  if  you  was  up  at  a  good  time  in  the 
 morning,  your  firft  devotions  will  have  been 
 at  proper  diftance  from  this  hour;  you  will 
 have  been  long  enough  at  other  bufinels,  to 
 make  it  proper  for  you  to.  return  to  this  great- 
 eft  of  all  bufinefs,  the  railing  your  Ibul  and 
 affeftions  unto  God. 
 
 But  if  you  have  rifen  fo  late^  as  to  be  hard- 
 ly able  to  begin  your  firft  devotions  at  this 
 hour^  which  is  proper  for  your  fecond^  you 
 may  thence  learn,  that  the  indulging  yourfelf 
 in  the  morning  fleep  is  no  fmall  matter;  fince 
 it  fets  you  fo  far  back  in  your  devotions,  and 
 
 U  robs 
 
^po  A  Serious  Call 
 
 robs  you  of  thofe  graces  and  bleflings,  which 
 are  obtained  by  frequent  prayers. 
 
 For  if  prayer  h^is  fower  with  God,  if  it  loo-^ 
 fes  the  bands  of  fin,  if  it  pinfes  the  Ibul,  re- 
 forms our  hearts,  and  draws  down  the  aids  of 
 divine  grace  ;    how  can  that  be  reckoned  a 
 jmall  matter,   which  robs  us  of  an  hour  of 
 prayer  ? 
 
 Imagine  yourfelf  fbme  where  placed  in  the 
 air,  as  a  fpedator  of  all  that  pafles  in  the 
 world  ;  and  that  you  faw  in  one  view,  the  de- 
 votions which  all  Chriftian  people  offer  unto 
 God  every  day.  Imagine,  that  you  faw  fome 
 pioufly  dividing  the  day  and  nighty  as  the  pri- 
 mitive Chriftians  did,  and  conftant  at  all  hours 
 of  devotion,  fnging  Pfalms,  and  caU'wg  upon 
 God,  at  all  thofe  times,  that  Saints  and  Mar^ 
 tyrs  received  their  gifts  and  graces  from  God. 
 
 Imagine  that  you  faw  others  living  with- 
 out any  rules,  as  to  times  and  frequency  of 
 prayer,  and  only  at  their  devotions  fooner  or 
 later,  ^^Jleep  and  lazinefs  happens  to  permit 
 them. 
 
 Now  if  you  was  to  fee  this,  as  God  fees  it, 
 how  do  you  fuppofe  you  Ihould  be  affefted 
 w^ith  this  fight?  What  judgment  do  you  ima- 
 gine, you  fliould  pafs  upon  thefe  different 
 forts  of  people  ?  Could  you  think,  that  thofe 
 who  were  thus  exaB  in  their  rules  of  devotion, 
 got  nothing  by  their  exaBnefs?  Could  you 
 think,  that  their  prayers  were  received  jufl  in 
 the  fame  manner,  and  procured  them  no  more 
 
 bleilings. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       191 
 
 bleflings,  than  theirs  do,    who  prefer  lazincft 
 and  indulgence  to  times  and  rules  of  devotion  ? 
 
 Could  you  take  the  one  to  be  as  true  fcr- 
 vants  of  God,  as  the  other  ?  Could  you  ima- 
 gine, that  thofe  who  were  thus  different  in 
 their  llveSj  would  find  no  difference  in  their 
 ftates  after  death?  Could  you  think  it  a  mat- 
 ter of  indtfferency^  to  which  of  thefe  people 
 you  were  mojl  like  ? 
 
 If  not,  let  it  be  now  your  care  to  join  your 
 felf  to  that  number  of  devout  people,  to  that 
 fociety  of  faints,  amongfl  whom  you  defirc 
 to  be  found,  when  you  leave  the  world. 
 
 And  altho*  the  bare  number  and  repetition 
 of  our  prayers  is  of  little  value,  yet  lince 
 prayer  rightly  and  attentively  performed,  is 
 the  moft  natural  means  of  amending  and  puri- 
 fying our  hearts  ;  fince  importunity  and  jre- 
 quency  in  prayer  is  as  much  prefs'd  upon  us  by 
 Scripture,  as  prayer  itfelf  5  we  may  be  fure, 
 that  when  we  are  frequent  and  importunate 
 in  our  prayers,  wx  are  taking  the  hep  ?neans  of 
 obtaining  the  higheft  benefits  of  a  devout 
 life. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  they  who  through 
 negligence,  lazinefs,  or  any  other  indulgence^ 
 render  themfelves  either  unable,  or  uninclin'd 
 to  obferve  rules  and  hours  of  devotion,  w^e 
 may  be  fure,  that  they  deprive  themielves  of 
 thofe  graces  and  bleflings,  which  an  exa^  and 
 fervent  devotion  procures  from  God. 
 
 Now  as  this  frequency  of  prayer  is  founded 
 in  the  doftrines  of  Scripture,  and  recommend- 
 
 \J  2  ed 
 
api  A  Serious  Call 
 
 ed  to  us  by  the  pradice  of  the  true  worfiilp- 
 pers  of  God^  fo  we  ought  not  to  think  our 
 IHves  excufed  from  it,  but  where  we  can  fliew, 
 that  we  are  fpending  our  time  in  fuch  bufinefs, 
 as  is  more  acceptable  to  God,  than  thefe  re- 
 turns of  prayer. 
 
 Lcaft  of  all  mull  we  imagine,  that  duhefsy 
 negligence  J  indulgence^  or  dlverjions^  can  be  any 
 pardonable  excufes,  for  our  not  obferving  an 
 exaft  and  frequent  method  of  devotion. 
 
 If  you  are  of  a  devout  fpirit,  you  will  re- 
 joice at  thele  returns  of  prayer,  which  keep 
 your  foul  in  an  holy  enjoyment  of  God^; 
 which  change  your  paffions  into  divine  love, 
 and  fill  your  heart  with  ftronger  joys  and  con- 
 folations,  than  you  can  poffibly  meet  with  in 
 any  thing  elfe. 
 
 And  if  you  are  not  of  a  devout  fpirit,  then 
 you  are  moreover  obliged  to  this  frequency  of 
 prayer,  to  train  and  exercife  your  heart  into  a 
 true  fenfe  and  feeling  of  devotiqn. 
 
 Now  feeing  the  holy  fpirit  of  the  Chriftian 
 Religion,  and  the  example  of  the  faints  of 
 all  ages,  calls  upon  you  thus  to  divide  the  day 
 into  hours  of  prayer ;  lb  it  will  be  highly  be- 
 neficial to  you,  to  make  a  right  choice  of 
 thofe  matters,  which  are  to  be  the  fubjeft  of 
 your  prayers,  and  to  keep  every  hour  of  prayer 
 appropriated  to  Ibme  particular  fubjeft,  which 
 you  may  alter  or  enlarge,  according  as  the 
 ftate  you  are  in  requires. 
 
 By  this  means,  you  will  have  an  opportu- 
 nity of  being  large  and  particular  in  ail  the 
 
 ^arts 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       C2p3 
 
 farts  of  any  virtue  or  grace,  which  you  then 
 make  the  fubjeft  of  your  prayers.  And  by 
 asking  for  it  in  all  its  parts,  and  making  it 
 the  fubftance  of  a  whoh  prayer  once  er^ry 
 day,  you  will  loon  find  a  mighty  change  in 
 your  heart;  and  that  you  cannot  thus  con- 
 ftantly  pray  for  all  the  parts  of  any  virtue 
 every  day  of  your  life,  and  yet  live  the  reft 
 of  the  day  contrary  to  it. 
 
 If  a  worlcUy^minded  man  v/as  to  pray  every 
 day  againft  all  the  tnftances  of  a  worldly  tem- 
 per ;  if  he  Ihould  make  a  large  defcrtpttGn  of 
 the  temptations  of  covetoufnefs,  and  defire 
 God  to  affift  him  to  rejeft  them  all,  and  to 
 difappoint  him  in  all  his  covetous  defigns,  he 
 would  find  his  confcience  lb  much  awaken' d^ 
 that  he  would  be  forced  either  to  forfake  luch 
 prayers,  or  to  forfake  a  worldly  life. 
 
 The  fame  will  hold  true  in  any  other  in- 
 ftance.  And  if  we  askj  and  have  notj  'tis  be-- 
 caufe  we  ask  amtfs,  Becaufe  we  ask  in  cold  and 
 general  forms,  liich  as  only  name  the  virtues, 
 without  defcribing  xh^'n  particular  parts ^  fuch 
 as  are  not  enough  particular  to  ©ur  condition^ 
 and  therefore  make  no  change  in  our  hearts. 
 Whereas  when  a  man  enumerates  all  the  parts 
 of  any  virtue  in  his  prayers,  his  confcience  is 
 thereby  awaken'd,  and  he  is  frighted  at  feeing 
 how  far  Ihort  he  is  of  it.  And  this  ftirs  him 
 up  to  an  ardor  in  devotion,  when  he  fees  how 
 much  he  wants  of  that  virtue  which  he  is 
 praying  for, 
 
 U  3        "  I  have 
 
2p4  -^  Serious  C  a  t  l 
 
 I  have  in  the  laft  chapter  laid  before  yoB 
 the  excellency  of  pralje  and  thankj giving^  and 
 recommended  that  as  the  lubjeft  of  your  firft 
 derotions  in  the  morning. 
 
 And  becaufe  an  humble  (fate  of  foul  is  the 
 
 very  ftate  of  Religion,    becaufe  humility  is 
 
 the  life  2indi  foul  of  piety,  the  foundation  and 
 
 fiipport  of  every  virtue  and  good  work,  the 
 
 hSi  guard  'a.nAfecurlty  of  all  holy  affections;  I 
 
 fhall  recommend  humility  to  you,  as  highly 
 
 proper  to  be  made  the  conftant  fubject  of  your 
 
 devotions,    at  this   third  hour  of  the   dayj 
 
 earncftly  defiring  you  to  think  no  Azj  fafe^  or 
 
 likely  to  end  well,  in  which  you  have  not  thus 
 
 early  put  yourfelf  in  this  pofture  of  humility, 
 
 and  called  upon  God  to  carry  you  through 
 
 the  day  in  the  exercife  of  a  meek  and  lozvly 
 
 fpirit. 
 
 This  virtue  is  fb  eflential  to  the  right  fate 
 of  our  fouls,  that  there  is  no  pretending  to  a 
 reafonahle  or  pious  life  without  it.  We  may 
 as  well  think  to  fee  without  eyes^  or  live  with- 
 out breathy  as  to  live  in  the  fpirit  of  religion^ 
 without  the  fpirit  of  humility. 
 
 And  altho'  it  is  thus  the  foul  and  cffence  of 
 all  religious  duties,  yet  is  it,  generally  Ipeak- 
 ing,  the  leaft  under  ft  ood^  the  leaft  regarded^ 
 the  leaft  intended^  the  leaft  defired  and  fought 
 after,  of  all  other  virtues,  amongft  all  Ibrts  of 
 Chriftians. 
 
 No  people  have  more  occafion  to  be  afraid 
 of  the  approaches  of  pride,  than  thofe  who 
 haye  m^A^  fome  advances  in  a  pious  life«     For 
 
 pride 
 
to  a  T)e^fout  and  Holy  Life.       295 
 
 pride  can  grow  as  well  upon  our  virtues  as  our 
 vkes^  and  fteals  upon  us  on  all  occafions. 
 
 Every  good  thought  that  we  have,  every 
 good  aftion  that  we  do,  lays  us  open  to  pride, 
 and  expofes  to  the  aflaults  of  vanity  and  felf- 
 fatisfaftion. 
 
 It  is  not  only  the  beauty  of  our  perfbns, 
 the  gifts  of  fortune,  our  natural  talents,  and 
 the  diftindions  of  life  ;  but  even  our  devotions 
 and  alms^  owx:  fafthigs  and  humtltat'ions^  expofe 
 us  to  frefli  and  ftrong  temptations  of  this  evil 
 Ipirit. 
 
 And  it  is  for  this  reafon,  that  I  fo  earneftly 
 advile  every  devout  peribn  to  begin  every  day 
 in  this  exercife  of  humility,  that  he  may  go 
 on  mfafety  under  the  proteftion  of  this  good 
 guide,  and  not  fall  a  facrifice  to  his  own  pro- 
 greft  in  thofe  virtues,  which  are  to  fave  man- 
 kind from  deftrudion. 
 
 Humility  does  not  confift  in  having  a  worje 
 opinion  of  ourfelves  than  we  deferve,  or  in  a- 
 bafing  ourfelves  lower  than  we  really  are.  But 
 as  all  virtue  is  founded  in  truths  fo  humility 
 IS  founded  in  a  true  and  juji  fenfe  of  our 
 weaknefsy  mifery^  and  fin.  He  that  rightly 
 feels  and  lives  in  this  fenfe  of  his  condition, 
 lives  in  humility. 
 
 The  weaknefs  of  our  ftate  appears  from  our 
 inability  to  do  any  thing,  as  of  ourfelves.  In 
 our  natural  ftate  we  are  entirely  without  miy 
 power ;  we  are  indeed  adive  beings,  but  can 
 only  ad  by  a  power,  that  is  every  moment  lent 
 us  from  God. 
 
 U  4  We 
 
ap(5 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 We  have  no  more  power  of  our  own  to 
 move  a  hamiy  or  ftir  2i  footy  than  to  move  the 
 ftin^  or  Hop  the  clouds. 
 
 When  we  fpeak  a  word,  we  feel  no  more 
 power  in  ourfelves  to  do  it,  than  we  feel  our 
 lelves  able  to  raife  the  dead.  For  we  ad  no 
 more  within  our  own  fower^  or  by  our  own 
 ftrength,  when  we  fpeak  a  word,  or  make  a 
 founds  than  the  Jpcfiles  aded  within  their 
 own  power,  or  by  their  own  ftrength,  when  a 
 word  from  their  mouth  call  out  devils^  and 
 cured  difeafes. 
 
 As  it  was  folely  the  power  of  God  that  en- 
 abled them  to  fpeak  to  fach  furpofeSj  fo  it  is 
 folely  the  power  of  God  that  enables  us  to 
 Ipeak  at  alL 
 
 We  indeed  find  that  we  can  Jpeak^  as  w^e 
 find  that  we  are  alive  \  but  the  actual  exercife 
 of  fpeaking  is  no  more  in  our  own  power, 
 than  the  adual  enjoyment  of  life. 
 
 This  is  the  dependent,  helplefs  poverty  of 
 our  ftate ;  w^hich  is  a  great  realbn  for  humility. 
 For  fince  we  neither  are,  nor  can  do  any  thing 
 of  ourfelves,  to  be  proud  of  any  thing  that 
 we  are,  or  of  any  thing  that  we  can  do,  and 
 to  ifcribe  glory  to  ourfelves  for  thefe  things, 
 as  our  own  ornaments,  has  the  guilt  both  of 
 jieaTing  and  lying.  It  has  the  guilt  of  Healing, 
 as  it  gives  to  ourfelves  thofe  things  which  on- 
 ly belong  to  God.  It  has  the  guilt  of  lying, 
 as  rt  is  the  denying  the  truth  of  our  ftate,  and 
 pretending  to  be  lomething  that  we  are  not. 
 
 Seconds 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      297 
 
 Secovdlyj  Another  argument  for  humility,  is 
 founded  in  the  mifery  of  our  condition. 
 
 Now  the  mifery  of  our  condition  appears  in 
 this,  that  we  ufe  thefe  borrow' d  powers  of  our 
 nature,  to  the  torment  and  vexation  of  our 
 felves,  and  our  fellow-creatures. 
 
 God  Almighty  has  cntruftcd  us  with  the 
 ufe  of  realbn,  and  we  ufe  it  to  the  diforder 
 and  corruption  of  our  nature.  We  reafon 
 ourfelves  into  all  kinds  of  folly  and  mifery, 
 and  make  our  lives  the  fport  of  foolilh  and 
 extravagant  paffions :  Seeking  after  imaginary 
 happinefs  in  all  kinds  of  ftiapes,  creating  to 
 ourfelves  a  thoufand  wants,  amufing  our 
 hearts  with  falfe  hopes  and  fears,  ufing  the 
 world  worfe  than  irrational  animals,  envying, 
 vexing  and  tormenting  one  another  with  reft- 
 lefs  paffions,  and  unrealbnable  contentions. 
 
 Let  any  man  but  look  back  upon  his  own 
 life,  and  fee  what  ufe  he  has  made  of  his  rea- 
 fon, how  little  he  has  confulted  it,  and  how 
 lels  he  has  followed  it.  What  foolifh  paffions^ 
 what  vain  thoughts^  what  needleis  labours ^ 
 w^hat  extravagant  frojeBs^  have  taken  up  the 
 greateft  part  of  his  life.  How  foolifh  he  has 
 been  in  his  words  and  converfation ;  how  iel- 
 dom  he  has  done  wxil  w'lXh  judgment^  and  Jiow 
 often  he  has  been  kept  from  doing  ill  by  accl- 
 dent ;  how  feldom  he  has  been  able  to  pleaje 
 himfelf,  and  how  often  he  has  d'ljpleafed  others ; 
 how  often  he  has  changed  his  counlels,  hated 
 what  he  lov'd,  and  lov'd  what  he  hated  ;  how 
 
 often 
 
2p8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 often  he  has  been  enrag'd  and  tranfported  at 
 trifles^  pleased  and  difpleas'd  with  the  very 
 fame  th'ings^  and  conftantly  changing  from  one 
 vanity  to  another.  Let  a  man  but  take  this 
 view  of  his  own  life,  and  he  will  fee  reafon 
 enough  to  confefs,  th3.t  pride  was  not  made  for 
 man. 
 
 Let  him  but  confider,  that  if  the  world 
 knew  all  that  of  him,  which  he  knows  of 
 himfelf ;  if  they  faw  what  vanity  and  pajftons 
 govern  his  infide,  and  what  iecret  tempers  fully 
 and  corrupt  his  beft  aclions,  he  would  have 
 no  more  pretence  to  be  honoured  and  admir'd 
 for  his  goodnefs  and  wifdom^  than  a  rotten  and 
 difempered  body  to  be  lov'd  and  admir'd  for 
 its  beauty  and  comelinefs. 
 
 This  is  lb  true,  and  ^o  known  to  the  hearts 
 of  almoft  all  people,  that  nothing  would  ap- 
 pear more  dreadful  to  them,  than  to  have 
 their  hearts  thus  fully  difcovered  to  the  eyes 
 of  all  beholders. 
 
 .  And  perhaps  there  are  very  few  people  in 
 the  world,  who  would  not  rather  chufe  to  die, 
 than  to  have  all  \im.xfecret  follies,  the  errors 
 of  their  judgments,  the -z;^/;^//;)^  of  their  minds, 
 thtfafenefs  of  their  pretences,  the  frequency  j 
 of  their  vain  and  diforderly  pafjions^  their  tin- 
 eajinefs^  hatreds^  envies^  and  vexations^  made 
 known  unto  the  world. 
 
 And  fliall  pride  be  entertained  in  a  heart 
 thus  confciotis  of  its  own  m^ferahh  behaviour? 
 
 Shall  a  creature  in  fuch  a  condition,  that 
 he  could  not  fupport  himfelf  under  x\\zfjame 
 
 of 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  2.99 
 
 of  being  known  to  the  world  in  his  real  fl ate  \ 
 Jhall  luch  a  creature,  becaufe  his  fhanie  is  on- 
 ly known  to  God,  to  holy  Angels,  and  his 
 own  conlcience;  fhall  he,  in  the  fight  of  God 
 and  holy  angels,  dare  to  be  vain  and  j^roiul  of 
 himfelf? 
 
 Thirdly y  If  to  this  we  add  the  pame  a,nd 
 ^liilt  of  fin,  we  ftiall  find  a  ftill  greater  realbn 
 for  humility. 
 
 No  creature  that  had  livVi  in  innocence, 
 would  have  thereby  got  any  pretence  for  felf-- 
 honour  and  efieern^  becaufe  as  a  creature,  all 
 that  it  is^  or  has^  or  does^  is  from  God,  and 
 therefore  the  honour  of  all  that  belongs  to  it, 
 is  only  due  to  God. 
 
 But  if  a  creature  that  is  a  Jinner^  and  un- 
 der the  difpleafure  of  the  great  governor  of  ail 
 the  world,  and  deferving  nothing  from  him, 
 but  pains  and  punifhments  for  the  Jhameftil 
 abufe  of  his  powers ;  if  fuch  a  creature  pre- 
 tends to  felf-glory  for  any  thing  that  he  is,  or 
 does ,  he  can  only  be  faid  to  glory  in  his 
 Ihame  ? 
 
 Now  how  rnon (Irons  ^ndjhamejhl  the  nature 
 of  fin  is,  is  fufficicntly  apparent  from  that 
 great  attonemejit  that  is  neceflary  to  cleanlc  us 
 from  the  guilt  of  it. 
 
 Nothing  lefs  has  been  required  to  take  away 
 the  guilt  of  our  fins,  than  the  fufferings  and 
 death  of  the  Son  of  God.  Had  he  not  taken 
 pur  nature  upon  him,   our  nature  had  been 
 
 for 
 
300  A  Serious  Call 
 
 for  ever  feparated  from  God,  and  incapable 
 of  ever  appearing  before  him. 
 
 And  is  there  any  room  for  pride  or  Jelf' 
 glory ^  whilft  we  are  partakers  oi  fuch  a  nature 
 as  this  ? 
 
 Have  our  fins  rendered  us  fo  abominable 
 and  odious  to  him  that  made  us,  that  he 
 could  not  io  much  as  receive  our  prayers,  or 
 admit  our  repentance,  'till  the  Son  of  God 
 made  himfelf  man,  and  became  a  fuffering 
 advocate  for  our  whole  race ;  and  can  we  in 
 tins  flate  pretend  to  high  thoughts  of  our 
 lelves?  Shall  we  prefume  to  take  delight  in 
 our  own  worthy  who  are  not  worthy  fo  much 
 as  to  ask  pardon  for  our  fins,  without  the  me^ 
 diation  and  interceffion  of  the  Son  of  God  ? 
 
 Thus  deep  is  the  foundation  of  humility 
 laid,  in  thefe  deplorable  circumftances  of  our 
 condition ;  which  Ihew,  that  it  is  as  great  an 
 offence  againft  truth,  and  the  reafon  of  things, 
 for  a  man  in  this  ftate  of  things,  to  lay  claim 
 to  any  degrees  of  glory,  as  to  pretend  to  the 
 honour  of  creating  himfelf.  If  man  will  boaft 
 of  any  thing  as  his  own,  he  muft  boaft  of  his 
 mifery  and  Jin ;  for  there  is  nothing  elfe  but 
 this,  that  is  his  own  property. 
 
 Turn  your  eyes  towards  heaven,  and  fancy 
 that  you  faw  what  is  doing  there  ;  that  you 
 favv  cherubims  and  feraphlms^  and  all  the  glo- 
 rious inhabitants  of  th^t  place,  all  united  in 
 one  work;  not  feeking^/<9ry  from  one  another, 
 not  labouring  their  own  advancefnent^  not  con- 
 templating their  own  perfetiions,  not  finging 
 
 their 
 
to  a  Ven^out  and  Holy  Life.       501 
 
 their    own   frsi/es^    not   valuing   themfelves  y 
 
 and  defpifing  others^  but  all  employed  in  one 
 
 and  the  fame  work,  all  happy  in  one  and  the 
 
 fame  joy ;  cafling  down  their  crowns 
 
 before  the  throne  of  God  y  giving     ^^^'^"^-^^^ 
 
 glory  J   and  honour ,   and  fower  to 
 
 htm  alone. 
 
 Then  turn  your  eyes  to  the  fallen  worlJy 
 and  confider  how  unreafonable  and  odious  it 
 muft  be,  for  fuch  poor  wormsy  fuch  miferable 
 Jinnersy  to  take  delight  in  their  own  fancy* d 
 glorteSy  w^hilft  the  higheft  and  moft  glorious 
 Ions  of  heaven,  feek  for  no  other  greatnels 
 and  honour,  but  that  of  alcribing  all  honour 
 and  greatnefs,  and  glory  to  God  alone  ? 
 
 Pride  is  only  the  diforder    of    the  fallen 
 
 worldy  it  has  no  place  amongft  other  beings  ; 
 
 it  can  only  fubfift  where  ignorance  and  fen^ 
 
 fiialityy   lies  and  falfhoody   lufls  and   Impurity 
 
 reign. 
 
 Let  a  man,  when  he  is  moft  delighted  with 
 his  o^n  figure y  look  upon  a  cracifxy  and  con- 
 template our  bleffed  Lord  fir  etch  d  out,  and 
 naiVd  upon  a  Crofs  ^  and  then  let  him  confi- 
 der,  how  abfurd  it  muft  be,  for  a  heart  full 
 of  fride  and  vanity y  to  pray  to  God,  through 
 the  fufferings  of  fuch  a  meek  and  cructffd  Sa- 
 viour ? 
 
 Thefe  are  the  reflexions  that  you  are  often 
 to  meditate  upon,  that  you  may  thereby  be 
 dilpos'd  to  walk  before  God  and  man  in  fuch 
 a  fpirit  of  humility,    as  becomes  the  weaky 
 
 raifc' 
 
§02  A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 mtferahk^  Jinful  ftate  of  all  that  are  defcended 
 from  fallen  Jdatn, 
 
 When  you  have  by  fuch  general  refleftions 
 as  thefe,  convinc'd  your  mind  of  the  reafpna- 
 blenefs  of  humility,  you  muft  not  content 
 your  felf  with  this,  as  if  you  was  therefore 
 humble,  bccaufe  your  mind  acknowledges  the 
 reafonablenefs  of  humility,  and  declares  a- 
 gainft  pride.  But  you  muft  immediately  en- 
 ter your  felf  into  the  praftice  of  this  virtue, 
 like  a  young  beginner ^  that  has  all  of  it  to 
 learn,  that  can  learn  but  little  at  a  time,  and 
 with  great  difficulty.  You  muft  confider,  that 
 you  have  not  only  this  virtue  to  learn,  but 
 that  you  muft  be  content  to  proceed  as  a 
 learner  in  it  all  your  time,  endeavouring  after 
 greater  degrees  of  it,  and  practifing  every 
 day  ach  of  humility,  as  you  every  day  pra- 
 ctice ad:s  of  devotion. 
 
 You  would  not  imagine  your  felf  to  be  de- 
 vout, becaule  in  your  judgment  you  approved 
 of  prayers,  and  often  declared  your  mind  in 
 favour  of  devotion.  Yet  how  many  people 
 imagine  themfelves  humble  enough,  for  no 
 other  reafon ,  but  becaufe  they  often  com- 
 mend humility,  and  make  vehement  decla- 
 rations againft  pride  ? 
 
 C^cus  is  a  rich  man,  of  good  breeding,  and 
 very  fine  parts.  He  is  fond  of  drefs^  curious 
 in  t\\QjmaUeJi  matters  that  can  add  any  orna^ 
 7ne72t  to  his  perfon.  He  is  haughty  and  im- 
 perious to  all  hTs  inferiors,  is  very  full  of  eve- 
 ry thing  that  he  fays,  ,or  does,  and  never 
 I  ima- 
 
 « ■^■ 
 
to  a  T)e^ont  and  Holy  Lifi'  303 
 
 imagines  it  poffible  for  fuch  a  judgment  as 
 his  to  be  miftaken.  He  can  bear  no  contra- 
 dicSion,  and  dilcovers  the  weaknels  of  your 
 undcrftanding ,  as  foon  as  ever  you  oppole 
 him.  He  changes  every  thing  in  his  bor^Jey 
 his  babif-j  and  his  eqii'tpcige^  as  often  as  any 
 thing  more  elegant  comes  in  his  way.  Qvcus 
 would  have  been  very  religious,  but  that  he 
 always  thought  he  was  fo. 
 
 There  is  nothing  fo  odious  to  dec  us  as  a 
 proud  man;  and  the  misfortune  is,  that  in 
 this  he  is  fo  very  quick-fighted,  that  he  dil- 
 covers in  almoft  every  body,  fome  Jirckes  of 
 vanity. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  he  is  exceeding  fond  of 
 humble  and  modeft  perfons.  Humility,  lays 
 he,  is  fo  amiable  a  quality,  that  it  forces  our 
 cfteem  where-ever  we  meet  with  it.  There 
 is  no  poffibility  of  defpifing  the  ?neaneji  per- 
 fon  that  has  it,  or  of  efteeming  the  greateji 
 man  that  wants  it. 
 
 Ccecus  no  more  fufpecls  himfelf  to  be 
 proud,  than  he  fufpefts  his  want  of  fenfe. 
 And  the  reafon  of  it  is,  becaufe  he  always 
 finds  himfelf  fo  in  love  with  humility,  and 
 ib  enrag'd  at  pride. 
 
 It  is  very  true,  C^cusy  you  fpeak  jincereJy 
 when  you  fay  you  love  humility,  and  abhor 
 pride.  You  are  no  hypocrite^  you  fpeuk  the 
 true  fentiments  of  your  mind  ;  but  then  take 
 this  along  with  you,  CvciiSy  that  you  only 
 love  humility,  and  hate  pride,  in  other  people. 
 You  never  once  in  your  life  thought  of  any 
 
 other 
 
304  A  Serious  Call 
 
 other  humility,  or  of  any  other  pride,  than 
 that  which  you  have  feen  in  ofber  people. 
 
 The  cafe  of  Ccecus  is  a  common  cafe ;  many 
 people  live  in  all  the  inftances  of  pride,  and 
 indulge  every  vanity  that  can  enter  into  their 
 minds,  and  yet  never  fufped  thcmfelves  to 
 be  governed  by  pride  and  vanity,  becaufe  they 
 know  how  much  they  diflike  proud  people, 
 and  how  mightily  they  are  pleas'd  with  hu- 
 mility and  modefty,  where-ever  they  find 
 them. 
 
 All  their  fpeeches  in  favour  of  humility, 
 and  all  their  railings  againft  pride,  are  look'd 
 upon  as  fo  many  true  exerciles,  and  effefts  of 
 their  own  humble  Ipirit. 
 
 Whereas  in  truth,  thefe  are  fo  far  from  be- 
 ing proper  afts,  or  proofs  of  humility,  that 
 they  are  great  arguments  of  the  want  of 
 it. 
 
 For  the  fuller  of  pride  any  one  is  himfelf, 
 the  more  impatient  will  he  be  at  the  fmallell 
 inftances  of  it  in  other  people.  And  the  lels 
 humility  any  one  has  in  his  own  mind,  the 
 more  will  he  demand,  and  be  delighted  with 
 it  in  other  people. 
 
 You  muft  therefore  ad  by  a  quite  contrary 
 meafure,  and  reckon  your  felf  only  io  far 
 humble,  as  you  impofe  every  injiance  of  hu- 
 mility upon  your  felf,  and  never  call  for  it  ia 
 other  people.  So  far  an  enemy  to  pride,  as 
 you  never  fpare  it  in  your  felf^  nor  ever  cen-^ 
 Jure  it  in  other  perfons. 
 
 Novi 
 
to  a  Dez^oui  aJtd  Holy  Life.       505 
 
 Now  in  order  to  do  this,  you  need  only 
 confider,  that  pride  and  humility  fignify  no- 
 thing to  you,  but  io  llir  as  they  are  your  own ; 
 that  they  do  you  neither  good  not  harm,  but 
 as  they  are  the  tempers  of  your  own  heart. 
 
 The  loving  therefore  of  humility  is  of  no 
 benefit  or  advantage  to  you,  but  fo  far  as  you 
 love  to  fee  all  your  own  thoughts,  words,  and 
 adions  governed  by  it.  And  the  hating  of 
 pride  does  you  no  good,  is  no  perfection  in 
 you,  but  fo  far  as  you  hate  to  harbour  any 
 degree  of  it  in  your  own  heart. 
 
 Now  in  order  to  begin,  and  fet  out  well  iii 
 the  pradice  of  humility,  you  muft  take  it 
 for  granted,  that  you  are  proud j  that  you  have 
 all  your  life  been  more  or  lefs  infeded  with 
 this  unreafonable  tem.pen 
 
 You  fhould  believe  alio,  that  it  is  ybur^r*?^^- 
 ^fl  weaknefs,  that  your  heart  is  niokjubjeSl  to 
 it,  that  it  is  fo  conflantly  ftealing  upon  you, 
 that  you  have  reafon  to  watch  and  fulped  its 
 approaches  in  all  your  aftions. 
 
 For  this  is  w^hat  moft  people,  efpeclally  new 
 beginners  in  a  pious  life^  may  with  great  tmth 
 think  of  themfelves. 
 
 For  there  is  no  one  vice  that  is  more  deep- 
 ly rooted  in  our  nature,  or  that  receives  fuch 
 conftant  nourifhment  from  almoft  eVery  thing 
 that  we  think  or  do.  There  being  hardly  any 
 thing  in  the  w^orld  that  we  wayit  or  ufe^  or 
 uny  aBton  or  duty  of  life,  but  pride  finds  fom0 
 means  or  other  to  take  hold  of  it.  So  that  at 
 ^'hat  time  foeyer  we  begin  to  offer  our  felyes 
 
 X  to 
 
^o6  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 to  God,  we  can  hardly  be  furer  of  any  things 
 than  that  we  have  a  great  deal  of  pride  to  re- 
 pent of. 
 
 If  therefore  you  find  it  difagreeable  to  your 
 mind  to  entertain  this  opinion  of  your  felf, 
 and  that  you  cannot  put  your  felf  amongft 
 thofe  that  want  to  be  cur'd  of  pride,  you 
 may  be  as  furc,  as  if  an  ^?2gel  from  heaven 
 had  told  you,  that  you  have  not  only  much, 
 but  all  your  humility  to  feek. 
 
 For  you  can  have  no  greater  fign  of  a  more 
 confirmed  pride,  than  when  you  think  that 
 you  are  humble  enough.  He  that  thinks  he 
 loves  God  enough,  fiiews  himfelf  to  be  an 
 entire  ftranger  to  that  holy  paffion ;  fo  he 
 that  thinks  he  has  humility  enough,  fhews 
 that  he  is  not  fo  much  as  a  beginner  in  the 
 pradice  of  true  humility. 
 
 CHAP.     XVII. 
 
 Shewing  how  difficult  the  praBke  of  humility  h 
 made^  by  the  general Jplrlt  and  temper  of  the 
 world.  How  Chrtjiianlty  re^uireth  us  to  live 
 contrary  to  the  world. 
 
 EVery  perlbn,  when  he  firft  applies  him- 
 felf to  the  exercife  of  this  virtue  of  hu- 
 mility, muft,  as  I  faid  before,  confider  him- 
 felf as  a  learn§r^  that  is  to  learn  fomething 
 
 that 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      307 
 
 that  IS  contrary  to  former  tempers  and  habits 
 of  mind,  and  which  can  only  be  got  by  daily 
 and  CGfifiant  pradicc. 
 
 He  has  not  only  as  much  to  do,  as  he  that 
 has  fome  new  art^  or  fclence  to  learn,  but  he 
 has  alfd  a  great  deal  to  unlearn  :  He  is  to  for- 
 get, and  lay  afide  his  own  fprtt^  which  has 
 been  a  long  while  fixing  and  forming  it  felf ; 
 he  mull  forget,  and  depart  from  abundance 
 of  paflions  and  opinions,  which  the  fafhiony 
 and  vogue ^  and  Ipirit  of  the  world,  has  made 
 natural  to  him. 
 
 He  mult  lay  afide  his  own  fpirit  \  becaufe 
 as  we  are  born  in  jln^  fo  in  pride^  which  is  as 
 natural  to  us  as  lelf-love ,  and  continually 
 fprings  from  it.  And  this  is  one  reafon  why 
 Chrittianity  is  fo  often  reprefented  as  a  new 
 hlrth^  and  a  new  fplrlt. 
 
 He  mull  lay  afide  the  opinions  and  paffions 
 which  he  has  received  from  the  world,  becaufe 
 the  vogue  and  fajhlon  of  the  world,  by  which 
 we  have  been  carry 'd  away,  as  in  a  torrent^ 
 before  we  could  pafs  right  judgments  of  the 
 value  of  things,  is  in  many  refpeds  contrary 
 to  humility ;  lb  that  we  mull  unlearn  what  the 
 fpirit  of  the  world  has  taught  us,  before  we 
 can  be  governed  by  the  fpirit  of  humility. 
 
 The  Devil  is  call'd  in  Scripture  the  prince 
 of  this  world,  becaufe  he  has  great  power  in 
 it,  becaufe  many  of  its  rules  and  principles 
 are  invented  by  this  evil  fpirit,  the  father  of 
 all  lies  and  filfhood,  to  feparate  us  from  God^ 
 and  prevent  our  return  to  happinei^. 
 
 X  2  Now 
 
5oS 
 
 A  Serious  C  a  L  t 
 
 Now  according  to  th.t  f pint  ^.nd  vogue  of 
 this  world,  whofe  corrupt  air  we  have  all 
 breath'd,  there  are  many  things  that  pafs  for 
 great ,  and  honourable ,  and  moft  dejirahle , 
 which  yet  are  i^o  far  from  being  fo,  that  the 
 true  greatnefs  and  honour  of  our  nature  con- 
 lifts  in  the  not  defiring  them. 
 
 To  abound  in  wealth,  to  have  fine  houfes, 
 and  rich  cloaths,  to  be  attended  with  fplendor 
 and  equipage,  to  be  beautiful  in  our  perfons, 
 to  have  titles  of  dignity,  to  be  above  our 
 fellow-creatures,  to  command  the  bows  and 
 obeifance  of  other  people,  to  be  looked  on 
 with  admiration,  to  overcome  our  enemies 
 with  power,  to  fubdue  all  that  oppofe  us,  to 
 fet  out  our  felves  in  as  much  fplendor  as  we 
 can,  to  live  highly  and  magnificently,  to  eat 
 and  drink,  and  delight  our  felves  in  the  moft 
 coftly  manner,  thefe  are  the  great ^  the  honou^ 
 rable^  the  dejtrabk  things,  to  which  the  fpl-- 
 rlt  of  the  world  turns  the  eyes  of  all  people. 
 And  many  a  man  is  afraid  of  ftandmg  ftill, 
 and  not  engaging  in  the  puriiiit  of  thefe 
 things,  left  the  fame  world  fliould  take  him 
 for  Tifooh 
 
 The  hiftory  of  the  Gofpel,  is  chiefly  the 
 hiftory  of  Chrift^s  conqueft  over  this  fpirit  of 
 the  world.  And  the  number  of  true  Chri- 
 ftians,  is  only  the  number  of  thofe  who  fol- 
 lowing the  Spirit  of  Chrift,  have  liv'd  contra^ 
 ry  to  this  fpirit  of  the  world. 
 
 If  any  man  hath  not  the  Spirit  of  Chrifiy  he 
 is  none  of  his.     Again,  Whofoever  is  born  of 
 
 God^ 
 
to  a  Ve'vout  and  Holy  Life.      509 
 
 God^overcometh  the  world.  Set  y oar  affeti'wnson 
 things  ahove^  andmt  on  things  on  the  earth ;  for 
 ye  are  dead.,  and  your  life  is  hid  with  Chrifl  in 
 God,  This  is  the  language  of  the  whole 
 New  Teftament.  This  is  the  mark  of  Chri- 
 llianity;  you  are  to  be  dead^  that  is,  dead 
 to  the  fp'irit  and  temper  of  the  world,  and 
 live  a  new  life  in  the  Spirit  of  Jefus  Chrift. 
 
 But  notwithftandingthe  clearnelsand  plain- 
 nefs  of  thele  doctrines  w;hich  thus  renounce 
 the  world,  yet  great  part  of  Chriftians  live 
 and  die  flaves  to  the  cnjioms^  and  temper  of 
 the  world. 
 
 How  many  people  fwqll  with  pride  and 
 vanity.,  for  fuch  things  as  they  would  not  know 
 how  to  value  at  all,  but  that  they  are  ad- 
 mired in  the  w^orld  ? 
 
 Would  a  man  take  ten  years  more  drudgery 
 in  bufinefs  to  add  tzvo  horjes  mox^  to  his  coach, 
 but  that  he  knows,  that  the  world  moft  of 
 all  admires  a  coach  and  fx  ?  How  fearful  are 
 many  people  of  having  their  houfes  poorly 
 furnifli'd,  or  themfelves  meanly  cloath'd,  for 
 this  only  reafon,  left  the  world  fliould  make 
 no  account  of  them,  and  place  them  amongft 
 low  and  mean  people  ? 
 
 How  often  would  a  man  h^y^  yielded  to  the 
 haughtinels  and  ill  nature  of  others,  anci 
 ihewn  a  fuhmijftve  temper,  but  that  he  dares 
 not  pals  for  luch  a  poor-lpirited  man  in  the 
 opinion  of  the  world  ? 
 
 Many  a  man  would  often  drop  a  refentment 
 ixnd  forgive  'm  afront^  but  that  he  is  ^fraid^ 
 
5 1  o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 if  he  ftiould,  the  world  would  not  forgiv<5 
 him? 
 
 How  many  would  pradifc  Chriftian  Umpe^^ 
 ranee  and  fobriety  in  its  utmoft  ferfeBlon^ 
 were  it  not  for  the  cenfure  which  the  world 
 pafles  upon  luch  a  life  ? 
 
 Otheto  have  frequent  intentions  of  living 
 up  to  the  rules  of  Chriftian  perfedion,  which 
 they  are  frighted  from,  by  confidering  what 
 the  world  would  fay  of  them. 
 
 Thus  do  the  imprellions  which  we  have  re- 
 ceived from  living  in  the  world  enflave  oui; 
 minds,  that  we  dare  not  attempt  to  be  emi^ 
 nent  in  the  light  of  God,  and  holy  Angels, 
 for  fear  of  being  little  in  the  eyes  of  the 
 world. 
 
 From  this  quarter  arifesthe  greateft  difficul- 
 ty of  humility,  becaufe  it  cannot  fubfift  in 
 any  mind,  but  fo  far  as  it  is  dead  to  the  world, 
 and  has  parted  with  all  defires  of  enjoying  its 
 greatnefs,  and  honours.  So  that  in  order  to 
 be  truly  humble,  you  muft  unlearn  all  thofe 
 notions  which  you  have  been  all  your  life 
 learning  from  this  corrupt  fpirit  of  the 
 world. 
 
 You  can  make  no  Jiand  againft  the  affaults 
 of  pride,  the  meek  affections  of  humility  can 
 have  no  place  in  your  foul,  till  you  flop  the 
 power  of  the  world  over  you,  and  refolve 
 againft  a  hllnd  ohediencc  to  its  laws. 
 
 And  when  you  are  once  advanced  thus 
 far,  as  to  be  able  to  ftand  ftill  in  the  torrent 
 pf  worldly/^;;/?;; J  and  ofmons^  and  examine 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.     3 1 1 
 
 the  worth  and  value  of  things  which  are  moft 
 admir'd  and  valued  in  the  world,  you  have 
 gone  a  great  way  in  the  gaining  of  your  free- 
 dom, and  have  laid  a  good  foundation  for  the 
 amendment  of  your  heart. 
 
 For  as  great  as  the  power  of  the  world  is, 
 it  is  all  built  upon  a  /?/'md  ohedie?2Ce^  and  w^e 
 need  only  open  our  eyes,  to  get  quit  of  its 
 power. 
 
 Ask  who  you  will,  learned  or  unlearned ^ 
 every  one  feems  to  know  and  confels,  that 
 the  general  temper  and  fpirit  of  the  world, 
 is  nothing  elfe  but  humour^  folly ^  Mnd  extra- 
 
 vagance. 
 
 Who  will  not  own,  that  the  wifdom  of 
 ^Philofophy^  the  piety  of  Religion^  was  always 
 confined  to  a  Ihiall  number  ?  And  is  not  this 
 exprefly  owning  and  confeffingjthat  the  commGH- 
 fpirit  and  temper  of  the  world,  is  neither  ac- 
 cording to  the  wiidom  of  ^Vhilojbphy^  nor  the 
 piety  of  Religion. 
 
 The  world  therefore  feems  enough  con- 
 demned even  by  its  felf,  to  make  it  very  eafy 
 for  a  thinking  man  to  be  of  the  fame  judg- 
 ment. 
 
 And  therefore  I  hope  you  will  not  think 
 it  a  hard  faying^  that  in  order  to  be  humble^ 
 you  muil  withdraw  your  obedience  from  that 
 vulgar  fpirit  which  gives  laws  to  ¥ops  and 
 Coquets^  and  form  your  judgments  according 
 to  the  wifdom  of  "T^hrlofophy ^  and  the  piety  of 
 Religion.  Who  would  be  afraid  of  making 
 fijch  a  change  as  this? 
 
 X  4  Again, 
 
3 1  ^  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Again,  To  leffen  your  fear  and  regard  to 
 the  opinion  of  the  world,  think  how  foon  the 
 world  w^ill  difregard  you,  and  have  no  more 
 thought  or  concern  about  you,  than  about  the 
 focrefl  amnial  that  dy'd  in  a  ditch. 
 
 Your  friends,  if  they  can,  may  bury  you 
 with  fome  diftinftion,  and  fet  up  a  monu- 
 ment to  let  pofterity  fee  that  your  duf}  lies 
 under  fuch  a  Stone  ^  and  when,  that  is  done, 
 -all  is  done.  Your  place  is  fiU'd  up  by  another, 
 the  world  is  juft  in  the  fame  ftate  it  was,  you 
 are  blotted  out  of  its  fight,  and  as  much 
 forgotten  by  the  world  as  if  you  had  never 
 belonged  to  it. 
 
 Think  upon  the  rlchy  the  great^  and  the 
 learned  perlbns,  that  have  made  great  figures, 
 and  been  high  in  the  efteem  of  the  world; 
 imany  of  them  died  in  your  time,  and  yet 
 they  are  funk,  and  loft,  and  gone,  and  a^ 
 jnuch  difregarded  by  the  world,  as  if  they 
 had  been  only  lb  many  bubbles  of  water. 
 
 Think  again,  how  many  poor  fouls  fee 
 Jieaven  loft,  and  lie  now  expecting  a  miferable 
 eternity,  for  their  fervice  and  homage  to  z 
 world,  that  thinks  it  felf  every  whit  as  well 
 without  them,  and  is  juft  as  nierry  as  it  was, 
 when  they  wxre  in  it. 
 
 Is  it  therefore  w^orth  your  while  to  lofe  the 
 fmallefv  degree  of  virtue,  for  the  fake  of  plear 
 fing  lb  bad  a  niajlery  and  lb  falfe  a  Jrlend  as 
 the  world  is  ? 
 
 Is  it  worth  your  while  to  bow  the  knee 
 to  fuch  an  idol  as  this,  that  lb  fopn  will  have 
 
 neither 
 
to  a  Ve'VOHt  and  Holy  Life.      315 
 
 neither  eyesj  nor  ecirs^  nor  a  heart  to  regard 
 you ;  inftead  of  lerving  that  great,  and  holy, 
 and  mighty  God,  that  will  make  all  his  ler- 
 vants  p:irtakers  of  his  own  eternity  ? 
 
 Will  you  let  the  fear  of  a  falle  world,  that 
 has  no  love  for  you,  keep  you  from  the  fear 
 ,of  that  God,  who  has  only  created  you,  that 
 he  may  love  and  blefs  you  to  all  eternity  ? 
 
 Laphy  you  muft  confider  what  behaviour 
 the  profeffion  of  Chriftianity  requireth  of 
 you,  with  regard  to  the  world. 
 
 Now  this  is  plainly  delivered  in  thefe  words : 
 Who  gave  h'lmjllf  for  our  jins^  that  ^.  . 
 he  might  deliver  as  fr 07)1  this  frefent 
 evil  world.  Chriftianity  therefore  implieth  a 
 deliverance  from  this  world;  and  he  that  pro- 
 feffeth  it,  profelTeth  to  live  contrary  to  every 
 thing  and  every  temper,  that  is  peculiar  to 
 this  evil  world. 
 
 St.  John  declareth   this  oppofition  to  the 
 world  in  this  manner,  'They  are  of  the  world: 
 therefore  fpeak  they  of  the  world^        ^  .    . 
 and  the  ivorld  heareth  them.     We       ^ 
 are  of  God.     This  is  the  defer ipt ion  of  the 
 followers   of  Chrift  *,  and   it   is  proof  enough 
 that  no  people  are  to  be  reckoned  Chriftians  in 
 reality,  who  in  their  hearts  and  tempers  be- 
 long to  this  world.     We  knozv^  faith  the  fame 
 Apoftle,  That  we  are  of  God.  and 
 the  whole  world  lleth  In  wlckeduefs. 
 Chriftians  therefore  can  no  farther  know  that 
 they  are  of  God,  than  fo  far  as  they  know 
 they  are  not  of  the  world  j  that  is,  that  they 
 
 dont 
 
314  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 don't  live  according  to  the  ways  znd  Jpirit  of 
 the  world.  For  all  the  ways,  and  maxims, 
 and  politicks,  and  tempers  of  the  world,  lie  in 
 wickednefs.  And  he  is  only  of  God,  or  born 
 of  God  in  Chrift  Jefus,  who  has  overcome  this 
 world,,  that  is,  who  has  chofe  to  live  by  faith, 
 and  govern  his  aftions  by  the  principles  of  a 
 wildom  revealed  from  God  by  Chrift  Jefus. 
 
 St.  ^P aid  takes  it  for  a  certainty  fo  well 
 Jcnown  to  Chriftians,  that  they  are  no  longer 
 to  be  confider'd  as  living  in  this  world,  that 
 he  thus  argues  from  it,  as  from  an  undeniable 
 principle,  concerning  the  abolilhing  the  rites 
 of  the  yewijh  law:  Wherefore  if  ye  be  dead- 
 wit  h  Chriji  from  the  rudiments  of  the  world y 
 why^  as  though  living  in  the  world ^ 
 are  ye  fubjeSi  to  ordinances  P  Here 
 could  be  no  argument  in  this,  but  in  the 
 Apoftle's  taking  it  for  undeniable,  that  Chri- 
 ftians knew,  that  their  profeffion  required  them 
 to  have  done  with  all  the  tempers,  and  paffi- 
 ens  of  this  world,  to  live  as  citizens  of  the 
 new  Jerujalemy  and  to  have  their  converfati- 
 on  in  heaven. 
 
 Our  bleffed  Lord  himfelf  has  fully  deter- 
 mined this  point,  in  thefe  words:  They  are 
 not  of  this  zvorld,^  as  I  am  not  of  this  world. 
 This  is  the  ftate  of  Chriftianity  with  regard 
 to  this  world.  If  you  are  not  thus  out  of, 
 and  contrary  to  the  world,  you  want  the  di- 
 ftinguiihing  mark  of  Chriftianity;  you  don't 
 belong  to  Chrift,  but  by  being  out  of  the 
 v/orld  as  he  was  ovit  of  it. 
 
 We 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      g  i  ^ 
 
 We  may  deceive  our  fclves,  if  we  plcafc, 
 with  vain  and  Ibftning  comments  upon  thele 
 w^ords,  but  they  are  and  will  be  undcrftood 
 in  their  firft  fimplicity  and  plainnefs,  by  every 
 one  that  reads  them  in  the  fame  fpirit  that 
 our  bleffed  Lord  fpoke  them.  And  to  un- 
 derftand  them  in  any  lower,  lefs  fignificant 
 meaning,  is  to  let  carnal  wifdom  explain  away 
 that  doftrine,  by  which  it  felf  was  to  be 
 dcftroy'd. 
 
 The  Chriftians  great  conqueft  over  the 
 world,  is  all  contained  in  themyftery  of  Chrift 
 upon  the  Crofs.  It  was  there,  and  from 
 thence,  that  he  taught  all  Chriftians  how  they 
 were  to  come  out  of,  and  conquer  the  world, 
 and  what  they  were  to  do  in  order  to  be  his 
 Difciples.  And  all  the  dotirinesj  facramentSy 
 and  in  ft  It  ut  tons  of  the  Gofpel,  are  only  fo  ma- 
 ny explications  of  the  meaning,  and  applica- 
 tions of  the  benefit  of  this  great  myftery. 
 
 And  the  ftate  of  Chriftianity  implieth  no-r 
 thing  elfe  but  an  entire^  abjblute  conformity 
 to  that  fpirit  which  Chrift  fliew'd  in  the  my- 
 fterious  lacrifice  of  himlelf  upon  the  crofs. 
 
 Every  man  therefore,is  only  fo  far  a  Chriftian, 
 as  he  partakes  of  this  IJDirit  of  Chrift.  It  was 
 this  that  made  St.  ^aul  Yo  paffionately  exprefs 
 liimfelf,  God  forbid  that  I  fhoidd  glor)\  Jlwe  in 
 the  crofs  of  our  Lord  Jejiis  Chrift :  But  why 
 does  he  glory?  Is  it  becaufe  Chrift  had  ftiffer^d 
 in  his  ftead,  and  had  excus'd  him  from  fuffc- 
 ring  ?  No,  by  no  means.  But  it  was  becaufe 
 bis  chrjftian  profcffion  had  call'd  him  to  the 
 
 honour 
 
516  J  Serious  Call 
 
 honour  of  fufFering  with  Chrift,  and  of  dying 
 to  the  world  under  reproach  and  contempt, 
 as  he  had  done  upon  the  Crofs.  For  he  im- 
 mediately adds,  by  who??i  the  iJuorld 
 a  •  VI.  14.  ^^  crudjied  unto  me^  and  I  unto  the 
 world.  This  you  fee  was  the  reafon  of  his 
 glorying  in  the  crofs  of  Chrift,  becaufe  it  had 
 caird  him  to  a  like  Hate  of  death  and  crucifixi- 
 on to  the  world. 
 
 Thus  was  the  Crofs  of  Chrlft,  in  St.  haul's 
 days,  the  glory  of  Chriftians;  not  as  it  fignifi- 
 ed  their  not  being  afliam'd  to  own  a  Mafter 
 that  was  crucified,  but  as  it  fignified  their 
 glorying  in  a  Religion,  which  was  nothing 
 elfe  but  a  dodrine  of  the  Crofs,  that  call'd 
 them  to  the  fame  fuffering  fpirit,  the  fame 
 ijicrifice  of  themfelves,  the  fame  renunciation 
 of  the  world,  the  fame  humility  and  meek- 
 nels,  the  fame  patient  bearing  of  injuries,  re- 
 proaches, and  contempts,  and  the  fame  dying 
 to  all  the  greatnefs,  honours  and  happinefs  of 
 this  world,  which  Chrift  Ihew'd  upon  the 
 Crofs. 
 
 To  have  a  true  idea  of  Chriftianity,  we 
 muft  not  confider  our  bleffed  Lord  as  liiffering 
 in  our  fteady  but  as  our  reprcfentatlve^  ading 
 in  our  namcj  and  with  fuch  particular  merit, 
 as  to  make  our  joining  with  him,  acceptable 
 unto  God. 
 
 He  fuffer'd,  and  was  a  lacrifice,  to  make 
 our  fufferings  and  facrifice  of  our  felves  fit  to 
 be  received  by  God.  And  we  are  to  fuffer, 
 to  be  crucified,  to  die,  and  rife  with  Chrift^ 
 
 or 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      ^ly 
 
 or  elfe  his  crucifixion,  death  and  relurreftion 
 will  profit  us  nothing* 
 
 The  neceffity  of  this  conformity  to  all  that 
 Chrift  did,  and  fuffcr'd  upon  our  account,  is 
 very  plain  from  the  whole  tenor  of  Scripture. 
 
 Firjfj  as  to  \i\^fufenngs^  this  is  the  only 
 condition  of  our   being  lav'd   by  them,  if  we 
 fuffer  with  hhn^  we  pall  alfo  reign  with  him. 
 
 Secondly^   as   to  his   Crticijixion, 
 Knowing  this^  that  oar  old  man  is       ^^'  ^^'  ^* 
 crucijied  with  him^  8Cc.     Here  you  fee  Chrift 
 is  not  crucified  in  our  Jlead:^  but  unlefs   our 
 old  man    be  really  crucified   with  him,  the 
 crofs  of  Chrift  will  profit  us  nothing. 
 
 Thirdly^  as  to  the  death  of  Chrift,  the  con- 
 dition is  this ;  If  we  be  dead  with  Chrift^  zve 
 believe  that  we  Jhall  alfo  live  with  him.  If 
 therefore  Chrift  be  dead  alone,  if  we  are  not 
 dead  with  him,  we  are  as  lure  from  this  Scrip- 
 ture, that  we  fhall  not  live  with  him. 
 
 Lafily^  as  to  the  refurreBion  of  Chrift,  the 
 Scripture  ftieweth  us  how  we  are  to  partake 
 of  the  benefit  of  it:  If  ye  be  rifen  with  Chrijl^ 
 feek  thofe  thijjgs  which  are  above ^     C  i  •• 
 where  Chrift  fitteth  on   the  right 
 hand  of  God. 
 
 Thus  you  fee  how  plainly  the  Scripture  fets 
 forth  our  blelTed  Lord,  as  our  re^refentative^ 
 
 afting 
 
5i8 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 acling  and  fuffcring  in  our  name,  hinding~and 
 obliging  us  to  conibrm  to  ail  that  he  did  and 
 fuffered  for  us. 
 
 It  was  for  this  reafon,  that  the  holy  Jefus 
 faid  of  his  difciples,  and  in  them  of  all  true 
 believers,  'They  are  not  of  this  world^  as  I  am 
 not  of  this  vjorld.  Becaufe  all  true  believers 
 conforming  to  the  Jiiffenngs^  crucijixion^  death ^ 
 2i\\d.refurre^ion  of  Chrift,  live  no  longer  after 
 the  fpirit  and  temper  of  this  world,  but  their 
 life  is  hid  with  Chrift  in  God. 
 
 This  is  the  ftate  of  feparation  from  the 
 world,  to  which  all  orders  of  Chrift ians  are 
 called.  They  muft  lb  far  renounce  all  world- 
 ly tempers,  be  fo  far  governed  by  the  things 
 of  another  life,  as  to  fhew,  that  they  are  tru- 
 ly and  really  crucify'd^  dead^  and  riftn  with 
 Chrift.  And  it  is  as  necelFary  for  all  Chrifti- 
 ans  to  conform  to  this  great  change  of  Ipirit, 
 to  be  thus  in  Chrift  new  creatures^  as  it  was 
 neceffary  that  Chrift  ftiould  Juffer^  dye^  and 
 rije  again  for  our  falvation. 
 
 How  high  the  Chriftian  life  is  placed  above 
 the  ways  of  this  world,  is  wonderfully  defcrib'd 
 by  St.  ^aul  in  thefe  words :  Where^ 
 2  or.  V.  I  .  y^^^^  henceforth  know  we  720  man  af- 
 ter the  flefJj ;  yea^  tho'  we  have  known  Chrijt^ 
 after  the  flefto^  yet  henceforth  know  we  him  no 
 tnore.  Therefore  ij  any  man  be  in  Chrifi^  he  is 
 a  nezv  creature  :  old  things  are  pajs'd  away  ^  he^* 
 holdy  all  things  are  become  new. 
 
 He  that  feels  the  force  and  fpirit  of  theie 
 words,  can  hardly  bear  any  human  interpreta- 
 tion 
 
to  a  T)e'vout  and  Holy  Life.      319 
 
 tion  of  them.  Henceforth,  liiys  he  ;  that  is, 
 lince  the  death  and  refurrection  of  Chrift,  the 
 Hate  of  Chriftianity  is  become  lb  glorious  a 
 ftate,  that  we  don't  even  conlidcr  Chrift  him- 
 lelf  as  in  the  flelh  upon  earth,  but  as  a  God 
 of  glory  in  heaven;  \vc  know  and  confider 
 ourfelves  not  as  men  in  the  flclh,  but  as  fel- 
 low-members of  a  new  Ibciety,  that  arc  to 
 have  all  our  hearts,  our  tempers,  and  conver- 
 lation  in  heaven. 
 
 Thus  it  is  that  Chriftianity  has  placed  us 
 out  of,  and  above  the  world ;  and  we  fall  from 
 our  calling,  as  loon  as  we  fall  into  the  tem- 
 pers of  the  world. 
 
 Now  as  it  was  the  fpirit  of  the  world  that 
 nailed  our  blefled  Lord  to  the  cro/j  j  fo  every 
 man  that  has  the  fpirit  of  Chrift,  that  oppofes 
 the  world  as  he  did,  will  certainly  be  crucify 'd 
 by  the  world  Ibme  w^ay  or  other. 
 
 For  Chriftianity  ftill  lives  in  the  fame 
 world  that  Chrift  did;  and  thefe  two  will  be 
 utter  enemies,  till  the  kingdom  of  darkncls 
 is  entirely  at  an  end. 
 
 Had  you  lived  with  our  Saviour  as  his  true 
 difciple,  you  had  then  been  hated  as  he  was ; 
 and  if  you  now  live  in  his  fpirit,  the  world 
 will  be  the  fame  enemy  to  you  now,  tliat  it 
 was  to  him  then. 
 
 If  ye  wef^e  of  the  worlds    faith  our  blefled 
 Lord,  the  world  would  love  Its  own ; 
 hut  hecaiife  ye  are  not  of  the  world ^     -^^^^  ^^'  ^^' 
 hut  I  have  chofen  you  out  of  the  world^  therefore 
 the  world  hateth  pu. 
 
 a  W 
 
gio  A  Serious  Call 
 
 We  are  apt  to  lole  the  true  meaning  of 
 thele  words,  by  confidering  them  only  as  an 
 hijlortcal  dejcnptwn  of  Ibmcthing  that  was  the 
 ftate  of  our  Saviour  and  his  diiciples  at  that 
 time.  But  this  is  reading  the  Scripture  as  a 
 dead  letter  :^  for  they  as  cxadly  delcribe  the 
 ftate  of  true  Chriftians  at  this,  and  all  other 
 times,  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
 
 For  as  true  Chriflianlty  is  nothing  elfe  but 
 the  Ipirit  of  Chrift,  fo  whether  that  fpirit  ap- 
 pear in  the  perfon  of  Chrift  himlelf,  or  his 
 Apoftles,  or  followers  in  any  age,  it  is  the  fame 
 thing ;  whoever  hath  his  Ipirit,  will  be  hated, 
 defpifed,  and  condemned  by  the  world,  as  he 
 was. 
 
 For  the  world  will  always  love  its  own,  and 
 none  but  its  own :  this  is  as  certain  and  un- 
 changeable, as  the  contrariety  betwixt  Tight 
 ana  djrknejs. 
 
 Wiicn  the  holy  Jefus  faith.  If  the  world 
 hate  yotij  he  does  not  add  by  way  cf  conlbla- 
 tion,  that  it  may  fome  time  or  other  ceafe  its 
 hatred,  or  that  it  will  not  always  hate  them  ; 
 but  he  only  gives  this  as  a  reafon  for  their 
 bearing  it.  Ton  know  that  it  hated  me  before  U 
 hated  you :  lignifying,  that  it  was  he,  that 
 is,  his  fpirit,  that  by  reafon  of  its  contrariety 
 to  the  world,  was  then,  and  always  would  be, 
 hated  by  it. 
 
 You  will  perhaps  fay,  that  the  world  is 
 nov/  become  Chriftian,  at  leaft  that  part  of  it 
 where  we  live  j  and  therefore  the  world  is  not 
 
 now 
 
 i 
 
to  a  7)e^oHt  and  Holy  Life.      521 
 
 now  to  be  confidcred  in  that  ftate  of  oppofiti- 
 on  to  Chriilianity,  as  when  it  was  heathen. 
 
 It  is  granted,  the  world  now  profcilcth 
 Chriftianity.  But  will  any  one  fay,  that  this 
 Chriftian  world  is  of  the  fpirit  of  Chrift  ?  Are 
 its  general  tempers  the  tempers  of  Cin-ift  ?  Are 
 the  pallions  of  fenfuality,  lelf-love,  pride,  co- 
 vetoufnefs,  ambition,  and  vain-glory,  lefs  con- 
 trary to  the  fpirit  of  the  Gofpel,  now  they 
 are  amongft  Chriftians,  than  when  they  were 
 amongft  heathens  ?  Or  will  you  fay,  that  the 
 tempers  and  pallions  of  the  heathen  world  are 
 loft  and  gone  ? 
 
 Confider,  fecondly^  what  you  are  to  mean 
 by  the  world.  Now  this  is  fully  delcribed  to 
 our  hands  by  St.  yohn.  All  that 
 is  in  the  world,  the  lujl  ofthefiejjj,  ' ^^^^  ""  '^' 
 the  luji  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life,  5Cc. 
 This  is  an  exafl:  and  full  defcriptiou  of  the 
 world.  Now  will  you  fay,  that  this  world  is 
 become  Chrifian?  But  if  all  this  ftill  fubfifts, 
 then  th^fame  world  is  now  in  being,  and  the 
 fame  enemy  to  Chriftianity,  that  was  in  St. 
 Johi's  days. 
 
 It  was  this  world  that  St.  ^^ohn  condemned, 
 as  being  not  of  the  Father ;  whether  therefore 
 it  outwardly  profcITcth,  or  openly  perfecuteth 
 Chriftianity,  it  is  ftill  in  the  fame  ftate  of 
 contrariety  to  the  true  fpirit  and  holinels  of 
 the  Gofpel. 
 
 And  indeed  the  world  by  profeiling  Chri- 
 ftianity, is  fo  far  from  being  a  lefs  dangerous 
 enemy  than  it  was  before,  that  it  has  by  its 
 
 Y  fayouri! 
 
52  2  A  Serious   Call 
 
 favours  deftroycd  more  Chriftians,  than  ever 
 it  did  by  the  moft  violent  periecution. 
 
 We  muft  therefore  be  fo  far  from  confider- 
 ing  the  world  as  in  a  ftate  of  lefs  enmity  and 
 oppofition  to  Chriftianity,  than  it  was  in  the 
 firft  times  of  the  Gofpel,  that  we  muft  guard 
 againft  it  as  a  greater  and  more  dangerous 
 enemy  now,  than  it  was  in  thofe  times. 
 
 It  is  a  greater  enemy,  becaufe  it  has  great- 
 er power  over  Chriftians  by  its  favours,  riches, 
 honours,  rewards  and  protections,  than  it  had 
 by  the  fire  and  fury  of  its  perfecutions. 
 
 It  is  a  more  dangerous  enemy,  by  having 
 loft  its  appearance  of  enmity.  Its  outward 
 profeffion  of  Chriftianity  makes  it  no  lon- 
 ger confiderM  as  an  enemy  ,  and  therefore 
 the  generality  of  people  are  eafily  perluaded 
 to  refign  themfelves  up  to  be  governed  and  di- 
 rcftcd  by  it. 
 
 How  many  confciences  are  kept  at  qulet^ 
 upon  no  other  foundation,  but  becaufe  they 
 fin  under  the  authority  of  the  chriftian 
 world  ? 
 
 How  many  directions  of  the  Gofpel  lye  by 
 unregarded  ;  and  how  unconcernedly  do  par- 
 ticular perfons  read  them  ;  for  no  other  realbn, 
 but  becaufe  they  feem  unregarded  by  the  chri- 
 ftian world  ? 
 
 How  many  compliances  do  people  make  to 
 the  chriftian  world,  without  any  hefitation, 
 or  remorfe ;  which  if  they  had  been  required 
 <>f  tliem  only  by  heathens,  would  have  been 
 
 refus'd;j 
 
*?  '>  '^ 
 1 
 
 to  a  Ve^vout  and  Holy  Life.        5 
 
 rcfus'd,  as  contrary  to  the  holinels  of  Chriftia- 
 nity  ? 
 
 Who  could  be  content  with  feeing  how 
 contrary  his  life  is  to  the  Gof'pcl.,  but  bccaufe 
 he  fees  that  he  lives  as  the  chriilian  world 
 doth  ? 
 
 Who  that  reads  the  Gofpel,  would  want  to 
 be  perfuaded  of  the  neceflity  of  great  Jelf- 
 denial.,  hamility^  and  poverty  of  Jfirit ,  but 
 that  the  authority  of  tlie  world  has  banilh'd 
 this  doftrine  of  the  crofs  ? 
 
 There  is  nothing  therefore,  that  a  good 
 Chriftian  ought  to  be  more  fufpicious  of,  or 
 more  conftantly  guard  ugainft,  than  the  au- 
 thority of  the  chrifian  zvorld. 
 
 And  all  the  paffages  of  Scripture,  which 
 reprefent  the  world  as  contrary  to  Chriftianity, 
 which  require  our  feparation  from  it,  as  from 
 a  mafimion  of  tin  right  eoufrieJ]\  a  monlter  of  ini- 
 quity, are  all  to  be  taken  in  the  £\n\t  fn^i 
 fcnfcj  in  relation  to  the  prefcnt  world. 
 
 For  the  change  that  the  world  has  under- 
 gone, has  only  alter'd  its  methods,  but  not 
 lefTen'd  its  power  of  deftroying  Religion. 
 
 Chriftians  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  hea^ 
 then  worM.,  but  the  lols  of  their  lives ;  but 
 the  world  become  a  friend.,  makes  it  difficult 
 for  them  tofave  their  Religion. 
 
 Whilft  pride.,  fenfuaVity.,  covetoufnefs  and 
 amhifwn^  had  only  the  authority  of  the  hea-- 
 then  worlds  Chriftians  were  thereby  made  more 
 intent  upon  the  contrary  virtues.  But  when 
 pride,  fenluality,  covetoufnefs  and  ambition, 
 
 Y   2  bay? 
 
5^4  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 have  the  authority  of  the  Chriftian  world , 
 then  private  Chriftians  are  in  the  utmoft  dan- 
 ger, not  only  of  being  fliam'd  out  of  the  pra- 
 dice,  but  of  lofing  the  very  notion  of  the 
 piety  of  the  Gofpel. 
 
 There  is  therefore  hardly  any  poffibility  of 
 faving  your  felf  from  the  prefent  world,  but 
 by  confidering  it  as  the  fame  wicked  enemy  to 
 all  true  holinefs,  as  it  is  reprefented  in  the 
 Scriptures  \  and  by  affuring  your  felf,  that  it 
 is  as  dangerous  to  conform  to  its  tempers  and 
 fajjions^  now  it  is  chriltian,  as  when  it  was 
 heathen. 
 
 For  only  ask  your  felf.  Is  xhcpiety^  the  hu- 
 mUty^  the  fohrlety  of  the  chriftian  world,  the 
 piety,  the  humiHty,  and  fobriety  of  the  chri- 
 ftian fpirlt  ?  If  not,  how  can  you  be  more 
 undone  by  any  world,  than  by  conforming  to 
 that  which  is  chriftian? 
 
 Need  a  man  do  more  to  make  his  foul  un- 
 fit for  the  mercy  of  God,  than  by  being  gree- 
 dy and  ambitious  of  honour?  Yet  how  can  a 
 man  renounce  this  temper,  without  renoun- 
 cing the  fpirit  and  temper  of  the  world,  in 
 Vv  hich  you  now  live  ? 
 
 How  can  a  man  be  made  more  incapable  of 
 the  fpirit  of  Chrift,  than  by  a  wrong  value  for 
 money  j  and  yet  how  can  he  be  more  wrong  in 
 his  value  of  it,  than  by  following  the  autho- 
 rity of  the  chriftian  world? 
 
 Nay,    in   every  order  and  fiation  of  life, 
 whether    of   learning  or   bujinefs  j   either   in 
 Church  or  State^  you  cannot  a<a  up  to  the  fpi- 
 rit 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      325 
 
 rit  of  Religion,  without  renouncing  the  molt 
 general  temper  and  behaviour  of  thofe,  who 
 are  of  the  fame  order  and  bufinels  as  your 
 felf 
 
 And  though  human  prudence  feems  to  talk 
 mighty  wifely  about  the  neceflity  of  avoiding 
 particularities  ^  yet  he  that  dares  not  be  l^o 
 weak  as  to  be  particular,  will  be  often  obliged 
 to  avoid  the  moft  fubftantial  duties  of  chrifti- 
 an  piety. 
 
 Thefe  refleftions  will,  I  hope,  help  you  to 
 break  through  thole  difficulties,  and  refill 
 thofe  temptations,  which  the  authority  and 
 fafhion  of  the  world  hath  rais'd  agai^ft  the 
 pradice  of  chrijiian  humility. 
 
 CHAP.    XVIIL 
 
 Shewing  how  the  education  which  met%  ge^ 
 nerally  receive  in  their  youth  ^  makes  the 
 do3rines  of  humility  difficult  to  be  praSlis'd. 
 The  fpirit  of  a  better  education y  reprefented 
 in  the  character  of  Paternus. 
 
 ANother  difficulty  in  the  praftice  of  hu- 
 mility, arifes  from  our  education.  We 
 are  all  of  us ,  for  the  moft  part  corruptly 
 educated,  and  then  committed  to  take  our 
 courfe  in  a  corrupt  world  j   fo  that  it  is  no 
 
 Y  3  won- 
 
5^6  A  Serious   Call 
 
 wonder,  if  examples  of  great  piety  are  fo  fel- 
 dom  feen. 
 
 Great  part  of  the  world  are  undone,  by  be- 
 ing born  and  bred  in  families  that  have  no  Re- 
 ligion ;  where  they  are  made  vicious  and  irre- 
 gular, by  being  like  thofe  with  whom  they 
 iirft  liv'd. 
 
 But  this  is  not  the  thing  I  now  mean ;  the 
 education  that  I  here  intend,  is  fuch  as  chil- 
 dren generally  receive  from  virtuous  and  fobqr 
 fcirents^  and  learned  tutors  and  governors. 
 
 Had  we  continued  perfect,  as  God  created 
 the  firft  man,  perhaps  the  perfedion  of  our 
 nature  had  been  a  fufficient  felf-lnftruBion  for 
 every  one.  But  as  Jicknefs  and  d'tfeajes  have 
 created  the  neceffity  ofmcdk/nes  and  phyjichms^ 
 1^0  the  change  and  di  (order  of  our  rational  na- 
 ture, has  introduced  the  neceffity  of  education 
 and  tuton, 
 
 And.as  the  only  end  of  the  phyfician  is,  to 
 reftore  nature  to  its  own  ftate,  lb  the  only  end 
 of  education  is,  to  reftore  our  rational  nature 
 to  its  proper  ftate.  Education  therefore  is  to 
 be  eonlider'd  as  reafon  borrowed  2Xjecond  handy 
 which  is,  as  far  as  it  can,  to  fupply  the  lofs  of 
 original  perfeftion.  And  as  phyfick  may  juft-^ 
 ly  be  caird  the  art  of  reftoring  health,  lb  edu- 
 cation Ihculd  be  conddcr'd  in  no  other  light, 
 than  as  the  art  of  recovering  to  man  the  ufe 
 of  his  reafon. 
 
 Now  as  the  inftruftion  of  every  art  or  fci" 
 ence  is  founded  upon  the  difcoveries^  the  w'tj-^ 
 iovd^   t^perunce  and  raaxims  of  the    feveral 
 
 great 
 
to  a  T)e<vout  and  Holy  Life.        527 
 
 great  men  that  have  laboured  in  it ;  fo  that  hu- 
 man  wjfdomy  or  right  11  fe  of  our  reafon,  which 
 young  people  fliould  be  calFd  to  by  their  edu- 
 cation, is  nothing  elle  but  the  heji  experience^ 
 and  finejl  reafomngs  of  men,  that  have  devo- 
 ted themfelves  to  the  ftudy  of  wifdoni,  and 
 the  improvement  of  human  nature. 
 
 All  therefore  that  great  faints^  and  dyhig 
 men,  when  the  fulleft  of  light  and  convidion, 
 and  after  the  highcft  improvement  of  their 
 reafon,  all  that  they  have  laid  of  the  neceffity 
 of  piety  J  of  the  excellency  of  virtue^  of  their 
 duty  to  God,  of  the  emptinefs  of  riches,  of 
 the  vanity  of  the  world -^  all  the  JcntenceSy 
 judgments^  reafomngs^  and  maxims  of  the  wi- 
 feft  of  philofophers,  when  in  their  higheft  ftate 
 of  wifdom,  fhould  conftitute  the  common 
 lejjons  of  inftrudion  for  youthful  minds. 
 
 This  is  the  only  way  to  make  the  young  ^ 
 and  ignorant  part  of  the  world,  the  better  for 
 the  wifdom  and  knowledge  of  the   wife   and 
 ancient. 
 
 An  education  which  is  not  wholly  intent 
 upon  this,  is  as  much  befide  the  point,  as  an 
 art  of  Vhyfcky  that  had  little  or  no  regard  to 
 the  reftoration  of  health. 
 
 The  youths  that  attended  upon  ^ythagorasy 
 Socrates^  ^lato^  and  EpiBetiu^  w^ere  thus  edu- 
 cated. Their  every  day  leffons  and  inftrufti- 
 ons  were  fo  many  lectures  upon  the  nature  of 
 man,  his  true  end^  and  the  right  ule  of  his 
 faculties;  upon  the  immortahty  of  the  foul, 
 its  relation  to  God,  the  beauty  of  virtue,  and 
 
 y  4  its 
 
328 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 its  agreablenefs  to  the  divine  nature ;  upon  the 
 dignity  of  rcafon,  the  ncceffity  of  tempe- 
 rance, fortitude  and  generofity,  and  the  ftiame 
 and  folly  of  indulging  our  paflions. 
 
 Now  as  Chriftianity  has,  as  it  were,  new 
 created  the  moral  and  religions  world,  and  fet 
 every  thing  that  is  reafonable,  wife,  holy 
 and  defirable,  in  its  true  point  of  light ;  fo 
 one  would  expeft,  that  the  education  of  youth 
 fliould  be  as  much  bettered  and  amended  by 
 Chriftianity,  as  the  faith  and  doBrines  of  Reli- 
 gion arc  amended  by  it. 
 
 As  it  has  introduced  fuch  a  new  Jlate  of 
 things,  and  lb  fully  informed  us  of  the  nature 
 of  man,  the  ends  of  his  creation,  the  Hate 
 of  his  condition  ^  as  it  has  fix'd  all  our  goods 
 and  evils^  taught  us  the  means  of  purifying 
 our  fouls,  pleafing  God,  and  becoming  eter- 
 nally happy  ;  one  might  naturally  luppofe, 
 that  every  Chriftian  Country  abounded  with 
 jihools  for  the  teaching, not  only  a  few  queftions 
 and  anfwcrs  of  a  Catcchijm^  but  for  the  forming, 
 training  and  practifing  youths  in  fuch  an  out- 
 ward courfe  of  life,  as  the  higheji  precepts, 
 the  firiBefi  rules,  and  the  fuhlimeji  dodrines 
 of  Chriftianity  require. 
 
 An  education  under  '^ythagoras^  or  Socrates^ 
 had  no  other  end,  but  to  teach  youth  to  thinkj 
 judge^  aBj  and  follow  liich  rziles  of  life,  as 
 (Pythagoras  and  Socrates  us'd. 
 
 And  is  it  not  as  realbnabk  :o  fuppofe,  that 
 a  Chriftian  education  Ihc  v^lu  have  no  other 
 end,  but  to  teach  youtn  how  to  think,  and 
 
 judge. 
 
to  a  De'voHt  and  Holy  Life.      529 
 
 judge,    and  aft,    and  live  according  to  the 
 fritieji  laws  of  Chriftianity  ? 
 
 At  leaft  one  would  luppofe,  that  in  all 
 chriftian  fchools,  the  teaching  youth  to  begin 
 their  lives  in  theyji;^//^  of  Chriftianity,  in  fuch 
 feverity  of  behaviour,  inch  ahfVinence^  fohr'tety^ 
 htmultty  and  devotion^  as  Chriftianity  requires, 
 Ihould  not  only  be  7nore^  but  an  hundred  times 
 more  regarded,  than  any,  or  all  things  elfe. 
 
 For  our  education  ftiould  imitate  our  guar-- 
 dtan  angels^  fuggeft  nothing  to  our  minds  but 
 what  is  wife  and  holy  \  help  us  to  dilcover  and 
 fubdue  every  vain  fajjion  of  our  hearts,  and 
 itytvj  falfe  judgment  of  our  minds. 
 
 And  it  is  7i%Joher  and  reajbnable  to  exped 
 and  require  all  this  benefit  of  a  chriftian  edu- 
 cation, as  to  require  that  phyfick  fliould 
 Itrengthen  all  that  is  right  in  our  nature,  and 
 remove  that  which  isjickly  and  dlfeasd. 
 
 But  alas,  our  modern  education  is  not  of 
 this  kind. 
 
 Th^JirJi  temper  that  we  try  to  awaken  in 
 children,  is  frlde ;  as  dangerous  a  paftion  as 
 that  oi  luji.  We  ftir  them  up  to  vain  thoughts 
 of  themlelves,  and  do  every  thing  we  can,  to 
 puff  up  their  minds  with  a  fenfe  of  their  own 
 abilities. 
 
 Whatever  way  of  life  we  intend  them  for, 
 we  apply  to  Xh^Jire  and  vanity  of  their  minds, 
 and  exhort  them  to  every  thing  from  corrupt 
 motives:  We  ftir  them  up  to  aftion  from 
 principles  of  Jirlfe  and  ajnhltlon^  from  glory ^ 
 envyy   and  a  defire  of  diftinftion,   that  they 
 
 may 
 
5  50  A  Serious  Call 
 
 may  excel  others,  and  fhine  in  the  eyes  of  the 
 
 world. 
 
 We  repeat  and  inculcate  thefe  motives  up- 
 on them,  till  they  think  it  a  part  of  their 
 duty  to  be  protid^  envious^  and  vain-glormis 
 of  their  own  accomplifliments. 
 
 And  when  we  have  taught  them  to  fcorn 
 to  be  outdone  by  any,  to  bear  no  rival^  to 
 thirft  after  every  tnjlance  of  applaufe,  to  be 
 content  with  nothing  but  the  higheft  diftin- 
 dions;  then  we  begin  to  take  comfort  in 
 them,  and  promife  the  world  fome  mighty 
 things  from  youths  of  fuch  a  glorious  fpirit. 
 
 If  children  arc  intended  for  holy  orders^  we 
 fet  before  them  fome  eminent  orator^  whofe 
 ■fine  preaching  has  made  him  the  admratwn  of 
 the  age,  and  carry'd  him  through  all  the  dig-- 
 nlt'tes  and  preferments  of  the  Church. 
 
 We  encourage  them  to  have  thefe  honours 
 in  their  eye,  and  to  exped  the  reward  of  their 
 Itudies  from  them. 
 
 If  the  youth  is  intended  for  a  trade  \  we 
 bid  him  look  at  all  the  rich  men  of  xh^fame 
 trade  J  and  confider  how  many  now  are  carry'd 
 about  in  thtxx Jiately  coaches^  who  began  in  the 
 fame  low  degree  as  he  now  does.  We  awaken 
 his  ambition,  and  endeavour  to  give  his  mhid 
 a  right  turn^  by  often  telling  him  how  very 
 rich  fach  and  fuch  a  tradefman  dy'd. 
 
 If  he  is  to  be  a  lawyer^  then  we  fet  great 
 CounfeUorSj  I.01  As  Judges^  znd  Chancellors^  be- 
 fore his  eyes.  We  tell  him  what  great  jees^ 
 and  great  apphiufe  attend  fine  pleading.     We 
 
 exhort 
 
to  a  DeTJout  and  Holy  Life.         3  3 1 
 
 exhort  him  to  take  fire  at  thcfe  things,  to 
 raife  a  fpirit  of  emulation  in  himfelf,  and  to 
 be  content  with  nothing  lefs  than  the  higheft 
 honours  of  the  k/ig  Robe. 
 
 That  this  is  the  nature  of  our  bep  ediicatlony 
 is  too  plain  to  need  any  proof;  and  I  believe 
 there  are  few  parents,  but  would  be  glad  to 
 fee  thefc  inftruftions  daily  given  to  their  chil- 
 dren. 
 
 And  after  all  this,  we  complain  of  the  el- 
 fefts  of  pride;  we  w^onder  to  lee  grown  men 
 afted  and  governed  by  ambition^  envy^  fi^^^h 
 and  a  dejire  of  glory;  not  confidering  that 
 they  were  all  the  time  of  their  youth  calM 
 upon  to  all  their  adion  anctinduftry  upon  the 
 fame  principles. 
 
 You  teach  a  child  to  fcorn  to  be  outdone, 
 to  thirft  for  difiin^lon  and  applaiife  ;  and  is  it 
 any  wonder  that  he  continues  to  ad  all  his  life 
 in  the  fame  manner  ? 
 
 Now  if  a  youth  is  ever  to  be  fo  far  a  Chri- 
 ftian,  as  to  govern  his  heart  by  the  doctrines 
 of  humility,  I  would  fain  know  at  what  time 
 he  is  to  begin  it;  or  if  he  is  ever  to  begin  it 
 at  all,  why  we  train  him  up  in  tempers  quite 
 contrary  to  it  ? 
 
 How  dry  and  poor  muft  the  dodrine  of  hu- 
 mility found  to  a  youth,  that  has  been  fpurr*d 
 up  to  all  his  induftry  by  ambition^  envy^  cmn^ 
 lation^  and  a  defire  of  glory  and  diftintiion  ? 
 And  if  he  is  not  to  ad  by  thefe  principles 
 when  he  is  a  man^  why  do  we  call  him  to  ad 
 ^y  them  in  his  youth  ? 
 
 Envy 
 
33^  -^  Serious  Call 
 
 Envy  is  acknowledged  by  all  people  to  be 
 the  mOil  tmgefierous^  bafe  and  wicked  paffion, 
 that  can  enter  into  the  heart  of  man. 
 
 And  is  this  a  temper  to  be  inftiird,  nou- 
 rifh'd  and  eftablifh'd  in  the  minds  of  young 
 people  ? 
 
 I  know  it  is  faid,  that  it  is  not  envy^  but 
 emulation^  that  is  intended  to  be  awakened  in 
 the  minds  of  young  men. 
 
 But  this  is  vainly  faid.  For  when  children 
 are  taught  to  bear  no  rival ^  and  to /corn  to  be 
 outdone  by  any  of  their  age,  they  are  plainly 
 and  dircftly  taught  to  be  envious.  For  it  is 
 impoffible  for  anyone  to  have  th\s f corn  of 
 being  outdone,  and  this  contention  with  r/-? 
 valsj  without  burning  with  envy  againft  all 
 thofe  that  feem  to  excel  him,  or  get  any  di- 
 ftindion  from  him.  So  that  what  children 
 are  taught,  is  rank  envy^  and  only  covered  with 
 a  name  of  a  lefs  odious  found. 
 
 Secondly^  If  envy  is  thus  confelTedly  bad, 
 and  it  be  only  emulation  that  is  endeavour'd  to 
 be  awakened  in  children,  furely  there  ought  to 
 be  great  care  taken,  that  children  may  know 
 the  one  from  the  other.  That  they  may  abo- 
 minate the  one  as  a  great  crime^  whilft  they 
 give  the  other  admiffion  into  their  minds. 
 
 But  if  this  were  to  be  attempted,  the  fine- 
 r.efs  of  the  diftindlon  betwixt  envy  and  emu- 
 lation, would  fhew  that  it  was  eafier  to  di- 
 vide them  in  words,  than  to  feparate  them  in 
 adion. 
 
 For 
 
to  a  Vez'OHt  and  Holy  Life.       555 
 
 For  emulation y  when  it  is  defined  in  its  bell 
 manner,  is  nothing  elie  but  a  refinement  upon 
 envy,  or  rather  the  moft  plaiijible  fart  of  that 
 black  and  venomous  paffion. 
 
 And  though  it  is  eafy  to  feparate  them  in 
 the  notion^  yet  the  moft  acute  ^hilojophery 
 that  underftands  the  art  of  diftinguijhing  ever 
 fo  well,  if  he  gives  himfelf  up  to  emulat'iony 
 will  certainly  find  himfelf  deep  in  efivy. 
 
 For  eyivy  is  not  an  original  temper,  but  the 
 natural,  neceflary,  and  unavoidable  efFed  of 
 emulation,  or  a  defire  of  glory. 
 
 So  that  he  who  eftablifhes  the  one  in  the 
 minds  of  people,  neceflarily  fixes  the  other 
 there.  And  there  is  no  other  poffible  way  of 
 deftroying  envy,  but  by  deftroying  emulation, 
 or  a  defire  of  glory.  For  the  one  always  rifes 
 and  falls  in  proportion  to  the  other. 
 
 I  know  it  is  faid  in  defenfe  of  this  method 
 of  education,  that  ambition,  and  a  defire  of 
 glory,  are  neceflfary  to  excite  young  people  to 
 induftry  ^  and  that  if  we  were  to  prcis  upon 
 them  the  dodlrines  of  humility,  w^e  fliould  dc- 
 jed  their  minds,  and  fink  them  into  didnefs 
 and  idlenejs. 
 
 But  thefe  people  who  fay  this,  don't  confi- 
 der,  that  this  reafon,  if  it  has  any  ftrcngth, 
 is  full  as  ftrong  againft  prefling  tlie  dodrines 
 of  humility  upon  grown  men ,  left  we  fliould 
 dejed  their  minds,  and  fink  them  into  dulnels 
 and  idlcnels. 
 
 For  who  does  not  fee,  that  tniddJe-aged  men 
 
 -vvant  as  much  the  afl[iftance  of  pride,  ambi- 
 
 *  tioa 
 
554  A  Serious  Call 
 
 tlon,  and  vain-glory,  to  fpur  them  up  to  action 
 and  induftry,  as  children  do  ?  And  it  is  very 
 certain,  that  the  precepts  of  humility  are 
 more  contrary  to  the  defigns  of  fuch  men,  and 
 more  grievous  to  their  minds,  when  they  are 
 prefled  upon  them,  than  they  are  to  the  minds 
 of  young  perfons. 
 
 This  realbn  therefore  that  is  given,  why 
 chrildren  Ihould  not  be  train'd  up  in  the  prin- 
 ciples of  true  humility,  is  as  good  a  realbn 
 why  the  fame  humility  fhould  never  be  re- 
 quired of  grown  men. 
 
 'Thirdly y  Let  thofe  people,  who  think  that 
 children  would  be  fpoiFd,  if  they  were  not 
 thus  educated,  confider  this. 
 
 Could  they  think,  that  if  any  children  had 
 been  educated  by  our  bleffed  Lord,  or  his  ho- 
 ly Apoftles,  that  their  minds  would  have  been 
 funk  into  clulnefs  and  idlenefs  ? 
 
 Or  could  they  think,  that  fach  children 
 would  not  have  been  trained  up  in  the  pro- 
 foundeft  principles  of  a  ftrid  and  true  humi- 
 hty  ?  Can  they  fay  that  our  bleffed  Lord,  who 
 w^as  the  meckcft  and  humbleft  man  that  ever 
 was  on  earth,  w^as  hindered  by  his  humility 
 from  being  the  greateft  example  of  worthy 
 and  glorious  aftions,  that  ever  were  done  by 
 man  ? 
 
 Can  they  fay  that  his  Apoftles,  who  liv'd 
 in  the  humble  fpirit  of  their  mafter,  did  there- 
 fore ceafe  to  be  laborious  and  adive  inftru- 
 ments  of  doing  good  to  all  the  world  ? 
 
 A  few 
 
to  a  T)evoHt  and  Holy  'Life,  355 
 
 A  few  fuch  refleftions  as  thf  Ic,  are  fuffici- 
 ent  to  expole  all  the  poor  pretences  for  an  edu- 
 cation in  pride  and  ambition. 
 
 ^  at  emus  liv'd  about  two  hundred  years  ago  ; 
 he  had  but  one  fon,  whom  he  educated  him- 
 felf  in  his  own  houfe.  As  they  were  fit- 
 ting together  in  the  Garde?i^  when  the  child 
 was  ten  years  old ,  ^aternus  thus  began  to 
 him. 
 
 The  little  time  that  you  have  been  in  the 
 world ,  my  child ,  you  have  fpent  wholly 
 with  me  ;  and  my  love  and  tendernefs  to  you, 
 has  made  you  look  upon  me  as  your  only 
 friend  and  benefaftor,  and  the  caufe  of  all  the 
 comfort  and  plealure  that  you  enjoy:  Your 
 heart,  I  know,  would  be  ready  to  break  with 
 grief,  if  you  thought  this  was  the  laft  day 
 that  I  Ihould  live  with  you. 
 
 But,  my  child,  tho'  you  now  think  your 
 felf  mighty  happy,  becaufe  you  have  hold  of 
 my  hand,  you  are  now  in  the  hands,  and  un- 
 der the  tender  care  of  a  much  greater  father 
 and  friend  than  I  am,  w^hofe  love  to  you  is 
 far  greater  than  mine,  and  from  whom  you 
 receive  fuch  bleffings  as  no  mortal  can  give. 
 
 That  God  whom  you  have  feen  me  daily 
 worftiip,  wliom  I  daily  call  upon  to  blefs  both 
 you  and  me,  and  all  mankind,  w^hofe  won- 
 drous afts  are  recorded  in  thofc  Scriptures 
 which  you  conftantly  read.  That  God  who 
 created  the  heavens  and  the  earth ,  who 
 brought  a  flood  upon  the  old  world,  who  fav'd 
 Noah  in  the  Afk,  who  wa5  the  God  of  Jbra^ 
 
 hiWh 
 
53^ 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 hanij  Ifaac  and  Jacob^  whom  Job  blefled  and 
 prais'd  in  thegreateft  affliftions,  who  delivered 
 the  Ifraelltes  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Egypti^ 
 ansy  who  was  the  proteftor  of  righteous  Jojephy 
 MoJeSy  yofhuaj  and  holy  Daniel^  who  fent  fo 
 many  Prophets  into  the  world,  who  fent  his 
 Son  Jefus  Chrift  to  redeem  mankind;  this 
 God  who  has  done  all  theie  great  things,  who 
 has  created  fo  many  millions  of  men,  who 
 liv'd  and  died  before  you  was  born,  with 
 whom  the  fpirits  of  good  men  that  are  depar- 
 ted this  life,  now  live,  whom  infinite  num- 
 bers of  Angels  now  worlhip  in  Heaven  ;  this 
 great  God  who  is  the  creator  of  worlds,  of 
 angels,  and  men,  is  your  loving  father  and 
 friend,  your  good  creator  and  nouriflier,  from 
 whom  and  not  from  me,  you  received  your 
 being  ten  years  ago,  at  the  time  that  I  plant- 
 ed that  little  tender  Elm  which  you  there 
 fee. 
 
 I   my  felf   am  not  half  the  age  of  this 
 
 Jhady  Oaky  under  which  we  fit ;  many  of  our 
 
 fathers  have  fat  under  its  boughs,  we  have  all 
 
 of  us  caird  it. ours  in  our  turn,  tho*  it  Hands, 
 
 and  drops  its  7nafierSy  as  it  drops  its  leaves. 
 
 You  fee,  my  Ion,  this  wide  and  large  F/r- 
 mament  over  our  heads,  where  the  Sun  and 
 Mooriy  and  all  the  Stars  appear  in  their  turns. 
 If  you  was  to  be  carried  up  to  any  of  theie 
 bodies  at  this  vaft  difl:ance  from  us,  you  would 
 Hill  difcover  others,  as  much  above  you,  as 
 the  Stars  that  you  fee  here  are  above  the 
 Earth.     Were  you  to  go  up  or  down,  Eafi  or 
 
 ^Weji, 
 
to  a  Devout  afid  Holy  Life.       53^ 
 
 tVtfij  North  or  Sauth^  you  would  find  the 
 fame  height  without  any  top^  and  the  lame 
 depth  without  any  bottom. 
 
 And  yet  my  child,  fo  great  is  God,  that 
 all  thefe  bodies  added  together,  are  but  as  a 
 grain  of  land  in  his  fight.  And  yet  you  are 
 as  much  the  care  of  this  great  God  and  Father 
 of  all  worlds  and  all:  ffirlts^  as  if  he  had  no 
 fon  but  you,  or  there  wxre  no  creature  for  hitrl 
 to  love  and  proteft  but  you  alone.  He  num- 
 bers the  hairs  of  your  head  ^  watches  over 
 you  fleeping  and  waking,  and  has  preferv'd 
 you  from  a  thouland  dangers,  which  neither 
 you,   nor  T  know  any  thing  of. 
 
 How  poor  my  power  is,  and  how  little  I 
 am  able  to  do  for  you,  you  have  often  ^ttn^. 
 Your  hx^jtchnefs  has  ftiewn  you  how  little  I 
 could  do  for  you  in  that  ftate;  and  the  fi*e-« 
 quent  pains  of  your  head  are  plain  proofs,  that 
 I  have  no  power  to  remove  them; 
 
 i  can  bring  youy^Wand  medicines ^  but  have! 
 no  power  to  turn  them  into  your  relief  and 
 nourifllment  ^  it  is  God  alone  that  can  do  this 
 for  you* 
 
 Therefore,  rny  child,  fear,  and  wOrfhip^ 
 and  love  God-  Your  eyes  indeed  cannot  yet 
 fee  him,  but  every  thing  you  fee,  are  fo  ma-* 
 ny  marks  of  his  power  and  prefence,  and  he 
 IS  nearer  to  you,  than  any  thing  that  you  cart 
 fee. 
 
 Take  him  for  your  Lord.,  and  Father.,  and 
 Friend^  look  up  unto  him  as  the  fountain  and 
 caufe  of  all  the  good  that  you  haye  teceiv'd 
 
 Zj  through 
 
333 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 through  my  hands,  and  reverence  me  only  as 
 the  hearer  and  mintjier  of  God's  good  things 
 unto  vou.  And  he  that  blefled  my  father 
 before  I  was  born^  will  blcfs  you  when  I  am 
 dead. 
 
 Your  youth  and  little  mind  is  only  yet  ac- 
 quainted with  my  fiimily,  and  therefore  you 
 think  there  is  no  happinefs  out  of  it. 
 
 But,  my  childj  you  belong  to  a  greater  Fa- 
 mily than  mine,  you  are  a  young  member  of 
 the  family  of  this  Almighty  Father  of  all  Na- 
 tions, who  has  created  infinite  orders  of  An- 
 gels, and  numberlefs  generations  of  men,  to 
 be  fellow-members  of  one  and  the  lame 
 focicty  in  HeaA^en. 
 
 You  do  well  to  reverence  and  obey  my 
 authority,  becaufe  God  has  given  me  power 
 over  you,  to  bring  you  up  in  his  fear^  and  to 
 do  for  you,  as  the  holy  fathers  recorded  in 
 Scripture  did  for  their  children,  who  are  now 
 in  reft  and  peace  with  God. 
 
 I  fhall  in  a  ftiorttime  die,  and  leave  you  to 
 God,  and  your  felf,  and  if  God  forgivcth  my 
 fins,  lihall  go  to  his  Son  Jefus  Chrift,  and 
 live  amongft  Patriarchs  and  Prophets,  Saints 
 and  Martyrs,  where  I  fliall  pray  for  you,  and 
 liope  for  your  fafe  arrival  at  the  fame  place. 
 
 Therefore,  my  child,  meditate  on  thefe 
 <yreat  things,  and  your  foul  will  foon  grow 
 great  and  noble  by  ib  meditating  upon  them. 
 
 Let  your  thoughts  often  leave  thefe  ^^r^<?;;j-^ 
 t\\Q\QfeJds  and  farras^  to  contemplate  upon 
 God  and  Heayen;  to  confider  upon  Angels^ 
 
 and 
 
U)  a  7)evoHt  and  Holy  Life.      5  op 
 
 and   the   fpirits  of  good  men  living  in  light 
 .and  glory. 
 
 As  you  have  been  us'd  to  look  to  me  in  all 
 your  adions,  and  have  been  afraid  to  do  any 
 thing,  unlcfs  you  lirll  knew  my  will;  lb  let 
 it  now  be  a  rule  of  your  life,  to  look  up  to 
 God  in  all  your  adions,  to  do  every  thing  in 
 his  fear,  and  to  abftain  from  every  thing  that 
 is  not  according  to  liis  will. 
 
 Bear  him  always  in  your  mind,  teach  your 
 thoughts  to  reverence  him  in  every  place,  for 
 there  is  no  place  where  he  is  not. 
 
 God  keepeth  a  book  of  life,  wherein  all  the 
 adions  of  all  men  are  written  ;  your  name  is 
 there, my  child, and  when  you  die, this  book  will 
 be  laid  open  before  men  and  angels,  and  ac- 
 cording as  your  adions  are  there  found,  you 
 will  either  be  received  to  the  happinefs  of 
 thofe  holy  men  who  have  died  before  you,  or 
 be  turn'd  away  amongft  wicked  Ipirits,  that 
 are  never  to  fee  God  any  more. 
 
 Never  forget  this  book,  my  fon,  for  it  is 
 written,  it  mutt  be  open'd,  you  muft  fee  it, 
 and  you  muft  be  try'd  by  it.  Strive  therefore 
 to  fill  it  with  your  good  deeds,  that  the  hand- 
 writing of  God  may  not  appear  againft  you. 
 
 God,  my  child,  iS2i\\love^  Tiwdzvifdom^  and 
 goodnefs ;  and  every  thing  that  he  has  made, 
 and  every  adion  that  he  does,  is  the  cfFed  of 
 them  all.  Therefore  you  cannot  pleafe  God, 
 but  fo  fir  as  you  ftrive  to  walk  in  love,  wil- 
 dom  and  goodnefs.  As  all  wifdom,  love  and 
 Z  2.  goodnefs 
 
540  A  Serious  C  a  L  t 
 
 goodnefs  proceeds  from  God,  fo  nothing  but 
 love,  wifdom,  and  goodnefs  can  lead  to  God. 
 
 When  you  love  that  which  God  loves,  you 
 aft  with  him,  youjoynyour  felf  to  him;  and 
 when  you  love  what  he  diflikes,  then  you  op- 
 pofe  him,  and  feparate  your  felf  from  him. 
 This  is  the  true  and  the  right  way ;  think 
 what  God  loves,  and  do  you  love  it  with  all 
 your  heart. 
 
 Firft  of  all,  my  child,  worfliip  and  adore 
 God,  think  of  him  magnificently,  fpeak  of 
 him  reverently,  magnify  his  providence, 
 adore  his  power,  frequent  his  fervice,  and  pray 
 unto  him  frequently  and  conftantly. 
 
 Next  to  this,  love  your  neighbour,  which 
 is  all  mankind,  with  fuch  tendernefs  and  affe- 
 ftion,  as  you  love  your  felf.  Think  how 
 God  loves  all  mankind,  how  merciful  he  is 
 to  them,  how  tender  he  is  of  them,  how 
 carefully  he  preferves  them,  and  then  ftrive  to 
 love  the  world,  as  God  loves  it. 
 
 God  would  have  all  men  to  be  happy, 
 therefore  do  you  willy  and  defire  the  fame. 
 All  men  are  great  inftances  of  divine  love, 
 therefore  let  all  men  be  inftances  of  your 
 love. 
 
 But  above  all,  my  Ion,  mark  this,  never  do 
 any  thing  through  ftrife,  or  envy,  or  emula- 
 tion, or  vain-glory.  Never  do  any  thing  in 
 order  to  excell  other  people,  but  in  order  to 
 pleafe  God,  and  becaufe  it  is  his  will,  that 
 you  ftiould  do  every  thing  in  the  beft  man- 
 ner that  you  can. 
 
 For 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      541 
 
 For  if  it  is  once  a  pleaflire  to  you  to  cxccll 
 other  people,  it  will  by  degrees  be  a  pleafurc 
 to  you,  to  lee  other  people  not  ib  good  as 
 your  felf. 
 
 Banirti  therefore  every  thought  o^  felf-prtde 
 zndfelf'difitn^'wn^  and  accuftom  your  felf  to 
 rejoice  in  all  the  excellencies  and  perfeftions 
 of  your  fellow-creatures,  and  be  as  glad  to 
 fee  any  of  their  good  adions,  as  your  own. 
 
 For  as  God  is  as  well  pleas'd  with  their  well 
 doings,  as  with  yours,  16  you  ought  to  defire, 
 that  every  thing  that  is  wife,  and  holy,  and 
 good,  may  be  performed  in  as  high  a  manner 
 by  other  people,  as  by  your  felf. 
 
 Let  this  therefore  be  your  only  motive  and 
 fpur  to  all  good  actions,  honett  induftry,  and 
 bufinefs,  to  do  every  thing  in  as  perfed  and 
 excellent  a  manner  as  you  can,  for  this  only 
 reafon,  becaufe  it  is  pleafing  to  God,  who  de- 
 fiics  your  perfedion,  and  writes  all  youradions 
 in  a  book.  When  I  am  dead,  my  Ion,  you 
 will  be  mafterof  all  my  ellate,  which  will  be 
 a  great  deal  more,  than  the  neceflities  of  one 
 flimily  require.  Therefore  as  you  are  to  be 
 charitable  to  the  fouls  of  men,  and  v/ifh  them 
 the  fame  happinefs  with  you  in  heaven,  ih 
 be  charitable  to  their  bodies,  and  endeavour 
 to  make  them  as  happy  as  you  upon  earth. 
 
 As  God  has  created  all  things  for  the  com- 
 mon good  of  all  men,  lb  let  that  part  of  them 
 which  is  fallen  to  your  fliare,  be  employed  as 
 God  vvculd  have  all  cmploy'd^  for  the  com-*- 
 mon  good  of  all. 
 
 Z  3  Dt 
 
54 2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Do  good,  my  fon,  firft  of  all  to  thofe  that 
 moft  delerve  it,  but  remember  to  do  good  to 
 all.  The  grcateft  finners  receive  daily  inftan- 
 ces  of  God's  goodnels  towards  them,  he  nou- 
 riihes  and  preferves  them,  that  they  may 
 repent,  and  return  to  him ;  do  you  therefore 
 imitate  God,  and  think  no  one  too  bad  to 
 receive  your  relief  and  kindnefs,  when  you 
 lee  that  he  wants  it. 
 
 I  am  teaching  you  Lcrtm  and  Greek^  not 
 that  you  Ihould  defire  to  be  a  great  Critkk^ 
 a  fine  ^oct^  or  an  eloquent  Orator ;  I  would 
 not  have  your  heart  feel  any  of  thcle  ciefires, 
 for  the  defire  of  thefe  accomplifliments,  is  a 
 vanity  of  the  mind,  and  the  maftcrs  of  them 
 are  generally  vain  men.  For  the  defire  of  any 
 thing  that  is  not  a  real  good,  leflens  the  appli- 
 cation of  the  mind  after  that  which  is  fo. 
 
 But  I  teach  you  theie  languages,  that  at 
 proper  times  you  may  look  into  the  hiftory  of 
 palt  ages,  and  learn  the  methods  of  God's 
 providence  over  the  world.  That  reading  the 
 writings  of  the  anticnt  Sjges^  you  may  fee 
 how  wifdom  and  virtue  have  been  the  praifes 
 of  great  men  of  all  ages,  and  fortify  your 
 mind  by  their  wile  fayings. 
 
 Let  truth  and  plainnels  therefore  be  the 
 only  ornament  of  your  language,  and  fl:udy 
 nothing  but  how  to  think  of  all  things  as 
 they  deferve,  to  chule  every  thing  that  is  belt, 
 to  live  according  to  reafon  and  order,  and  to 
 ad  in  every  part  of  your  life  in  conformity  to 
 the  will  of  God. 
 
 Study 
 
\  td  a  TkzfOiit  and  Holy  Life.      543 
 
 Study  how  to  fill  your  heart  full  of  the 
 love  of  God,  and  the  love  of  your  neighbour, 
 and  then  be  content  to  be  no  deeper  alcholar^ 
 no  finer  a  gentleman,  than  thefe  tempers 
 \vill  make  you.  As  true  Rchgion  is  nothing 
 clfe'but  fimple  Nature  governed  by  right  rea- 
 Ibn,  ib  it  loves  and  requires  great  plainnels 
 and  fimphcity  of  life.  Therefore  avoid  all 
 fuperfluous  fhews  of  finery  and  equipage,  and 
 let  your  houfe  be  plainly  furnifli'd  with  mo- 
 derate convenienciei>.  Don't  confider  what 
 your  eftate  can  afford,  but  what  right  realbn 
 requires. 
 
 Let  your  drejs  be  tbber,  clean,  and  modeft, 
 not  to  let  out  the  beauty  of  your  perfon,  but 
 to  declare  the  fobriety  of  your  mind,  that 
 your  outward  garb  may  refemble  the  inward 
 plainnefs  and  fimplicity  of  your  heart.  For  it 
 is  highly  realbnable,  that  you  fhould  be  one 
 rnau^  all  of  a  piece,  and  appear  outwardly 
 fuch  as  you  are  inwardly. 
 
 As  to  your  ?7ieat^nd  drlnh^  in  themoblerve 
 the  h'tghejl  rules  of  Chriftian  temperance  and 
 Ibbriety  \  confider  your  body  only  as  the  fer- 
 vant  and  minifter  of  your  Ibul  ;  and  only  fo 
 nourifli  it,  as  it  may  beft  perform  an  humble 
 and  obedient  iervice  to  it. 
 
 But,  my  fon,  obferve  this  as  a  moll  princi- 
 pal thing,  which  I  fhall  remember  you  of,  as 
 long  as  1  live  with  you. 
 
 Hate  and  defpile  all  human  glory ^  for  it  is 
 aothing  clfc  but  human  folly.     It  is  the  grca- 
 
 Z  4  teli 
 
544  ^  Serious  C  al  t 
 
 toft  fnare^  and  the  grcatcft  betrayer  that  you 
 can  poffibly  admit  into  your  heart. 
 
 Love  hvimility  in  all  its  inftanccs,  praftife 
 it  in  all  its  parts,,  for  it  is  the  nobleft  ftate  of 
 the  foul  of  man;  it  will  fet  your  heart  and 
 affedions  right  towards  God,  and  fill  you  with 
 every  temper  that  is  tender  and  affcdionate 
 towards  men. 
 
 Let  every  day  therefore  be  a  day  of  humi- 
 lity, condefcend  to  all  the  weaknels,  and  in^ 
 firmities  of  your  fellow  creatures,  cover  their 
 frailties,  love  their  excellencies ,  encourage 
 their  virtues,  relieve  their  wants,  rejoice  in 
 their  profperities,  compaffionate  their  diftrefs, 
 Teceive  their  friendihip,  overlook  their  un-^ 
 kindnefs,  forgive  their  malice,  be  a  fervant  of 
 fervants,  and  condelcend  to  do  the  loweft 
 offices  to  the  loweft  of  mankind, 
 
 Alpirc  after  nothing  but  your  ow^n  purity 
 and  perfection,  and  have  no  ambition  but  to 
 do  every  thing  in  fo  reafonable  and  religious 
 a  manner,  that  you  may  be  glad  that  God  is 
 every  where  prefent,  and  fees  and  obferves  all 
 your  adions.  The  greateft  trial  of  humility, 
 is  an  humble  behaviour  towards  your  equals  in 
 age^  ejiate^  and  condition  of  life.  Therefore 
 be  careful  of  all  the  motions  of  your  heart 
 towards  thefe  people.  Let  all  your  behaviour 
 towards  them  be  govern'd  by  unfeigned  love. 
 Have  no  defire  to  put  any  of  your  equals  be- 
 low you,  nor  any  anger  at  thole  that  would 
 put  thcmfelves  above  you.  If  they  are  proud, 
 |hey  arc  ill  of  a  v^ry  bad  diftemper,  let  therri 
 
 therefor© 
 
to  a  Vcvout  and  Holy  Life.      34.15 
 
 therefore  have  your  tender  pity,  and  perhaps 
 your  meekncls  may  prove  an  occafion  of  their 
 cure.  But  if  your  humility  fhould  do  them 
 no  good,  it  will  however  be  the  greateft  good 
 that  you  can  do  to  your  ielf. 
 
 Remember  that  there  is  but  one  man  in  the 
 world,  with  whom  you  are  to  have  perpetual 
 contention,  and  be  always  ftriving  to  exceed 
 him,  and  that  is  your  felf. 
 
 The  time  of  practifmg  thefe  precepts,  my 
 child,  will  loon  be  over  with  you,  the  world 
 will  loon  flip  through  your  hands,  or  rather 
 you  will  foon  flip  through  it ;  it  feems  but  the 
 other  day  fince  I  received  thele  fame  inftrucli- 
 ons  from  my  dear  Father,  that  I  am  now  lea- 
 ving with  you.     And  the  God  that  gave  mc 
 cars  to  hear,  and  a  heart  to  receive  what  my 
 Father  faid  unto  me,  will,  I  hope,  give   you 
 grace  to  love  and  follow  the  lame  inftruftions. 
 Thus  did  ^'Patermu  educate  his  Ion. 
 Can  any  one  now  think  that  luch  an  educa-^ 
 tion   as  this,  would    weaken   and  dejcft  the 
 minds   of   young   people,    and   deprive    the 
 world   of  any  worthy  and  reafonable  labours? 
 It  is  fo  far  from  that,  that  there  is  nothing 
 fo  likely  to  enoble,  and  exalt  the  mind,  and 
 prepare   it  for  the  moft   heroical  exercife  of 
 i^ll  virtues. 
 
 For  who  will  fay,  that  a  love  of  God,  a 
 defirc  of  plcafing  him,  a  love  of  our  neigh- 
 bour, a  love  of  truth,  of  reafon,  and  virtue, 
 ^  contemplation  of  eternity,  and  the  rewards 
 pf  piety,    are  not   ftrongcr  motives  to  great 
 
 an4 
 
34^ 
 
 J  Serious  Call 
 
 and  good  aftions,  than  a  little  uncertain  popii'- 
 lar  praile. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing  in  rea- 
 lity that  more  weakens  the  mind,  and  reduces 
 it  to  meannefs  and  flavery,  nothing  that 
 makes  it  lefs  mafter  of  its  own  actions,  or  Ids 
 capable  of  following  realbn,  than  a  love  of 
 praife  and  honour. 
 
 For  as  praife  and  honour  arc  often  given  to 
 things  and  perfons^  where  they  are  not  due, 
 as  that  is  generally  moft  prais'd  and  honour'd^ 
 that  moft  gratifies  th^  humours^  fafii on Sj  and 
 vicious  tempers  of  the  world :  fo  he  that  acts 
 upon  the  defire  of  praife  and  applaufe,  muft 
 part  with  every  other  principle ;  he  muft  fay 
 hlach  is  whlte^  put  bitter  ioxjweet^  and  Jwect 
 for  hitter  J  and  do  the  meaneft,  bafeft  things, 
 in  order  to  be  applauded. 
 
 For  in  a  corrupt  world,  as  this  is,  worthy 
 actions  are  only  to  be  fupported  by  their  own 
 worth,  where  inftead  of  being  prais'd  and  ho- 
 noured, they  are  moft  often  reproached,  and 
 perfecuted. 
 
 So  that  to  educate  children  upon  a  motive 
 of  emulation  J  or  a  defire  of  glory  ^  in  a  world 
 where  glory  it  llif  isfalje^  and  moft  common- 
 ly given  wrofig^  is  to  tieftroy  the  natural  inte- 
 grity and  fortitude  of  their  minds,  and  give 
 them  a  hhifs  which  will  oftner  carry  them  to 
 bals  and  mean,  than  great  and  worthy  actions* 
 
 CHAR 
 
to  a  Vczfout  and  Holy  Life.      ^47 
 
 CHAP.     XIX 
 
 Shewing  how  the  method  of  educatDig  daughters, 
 raakes  it  difficult  for  them  to  enter  into  the 
 
 Jpirit  of  Chrifian  hamtUty,  How  rniferahly 
 they  areinjiirW  andahasW  hy  fiich  an  educa^ 
 tion.     The  fprit  of  a  better  education  re^re^ 
 
 Jented  in  the  charaBer  of  Eufebia. 
 
 THAT  turn  of  mind  which  is  taught 
 and  encouraged  in  the  education  of 
 daughters^  makes  it  exceeding  difficult  for 
 them  to  enter  into  fuch  a  fenfe  and  praftice  of 
 humility,  as  the  fpirit  of  Chriftianity  requi- 
 reth. 
 
 The  right  education  of  this  fex  is  of  the 
 utmoft  importance  to  human  life.  There  is 
 nothing  that  is  more  defirable  for  the  common 
 good  of  all  the  world.  For  though  women 
 don't  carry  on  the  trade  and  bufnej's  of  the 
 world,  yet  as  they  are  mothers^  and  mifirejps 
 of  families,  that  have  for  ibme  time  the  care 
 of  the  education  of  their  children  of  both 
 forts,  they  are  entrufted  w^ith  that  which  is  of 
 the  grcatcft  confcquence  to  human  life.  For 
 this  reafon,  good  or  bad  women  are  likely  to 
 do  as  much  good  or  harm  in  the  world,  as 
 good  or  bad  men  in  the  greateft  bufinels  of 
 life. 
 
 For  as  the  health  and  ftrength^  or  zveaknef 
 of  our  bodies^  is  very  much  owing  to  their 
 
 methods 
 
348 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 methods  of  treating  us  when  we  were  young  ; 
 fo  Xh^foundnefs  or  folly  of  our  minds  are  not 
 lefs  owing  to  thoCc  Jirjl  te?7ipers  and  ways  of 
 thinking,  which  we  eagerly  received  from  the 
 love^  tendernefs^  authority^  and  conftant  con-^ 
 verfaUon  of  our  mothers. 
 
 As  we  call  our  firft  language  our  mother- 
 tongue^  fo  we  may  as  juftly  call  our  firft  tem- 
 pers our  mother-tempers ;  and  perhaps  it  may 
 be  found  more  eafy  to  forget  the  lajtguage^  than 
 to  part  entirely  with  thofe  tempers  w^hich  we 
 karnt  in  the  ?iurfery. 
 
 It  is  therefore  much  to  be  lamented,  that 
 this  fex\  on  whom  fo  much  depends,  who 
 have  the  firft  forming  both  of  our  bodies  and 
 our  minds^  are  not  only  educated  m pride j  but 
 in  the  filTteft  and  moft  contemptible  part  of  it. 
 
 They  are  not  indeed  fuffer'd  to  difpute  with 
 us  the  proud  prizes  of  arts  and  fclences^  of 
 Jearnhig  and  eloquence^  in  which  I  have  much 
 fiifpicion  they  would  often  prove  our  fuperi- 
 ors  5  but  we  turn  them  over  to  the  ftudy  of 
 heaiity  and  drefs^  and  the  whole  w^orld  con- 
 fpires  to  make  them  think  of  nothing  elfe. 
 fathers  and  mothers^  friends  and  relations ^  feem 
 to  have  no  other  wifh  towards  the  little  glrly 
 but  that  fhe  may  have  ?ifdlr  skln^  -^fnefJoape^ 
 drefs  weU,,  and  dance  to  admiration. 
 
 Now  if  a  fondnefs  for  our  perfons^  a  defire 
 of  beauty^  a  love  of  drefs^  be  a  part  of  pride 
 (as  furcly  it  is  a  moft  contemptible  part  of  it) 
 the  firft  ftep  towards  a  woman's  htimillty^  feems 
 to  require  a  repentance  of  her  education* 
 
 For 
 
to  a  Ve^oHt  and  Holy  Life.      54^ 
 
 For  it  muft  be  own'd  that,  generally  fpcak- 
 ing,  good  parents  are  never  more  fond  of  their 
 daughters,  than  when  they  lee  them  too  foud 
 of  themfelves,  and  drejsd  in  fuch  a  manner, 
 as  is  a  great  reproach  to  the  gravity  and  ib- 
 briety  of  the  Chriftian  life. 
 
 And  what  makes  this  matter  ftill  more  to 
 be  lamented,  is  this,  That  women  are  not 
 only  Ipoird  by  this  education,  but  we  Ipoii 
 that  part  of  the  world,  which  would  other- 
 wife  furnilh  moji  hijiances  of  an  eminent  and 
 exalted  piety. 
 
 For  I  believe  it  may  be  affirmed,  that  for 
 the  moft  part  there  is  ^fner  fenfe^  a  clearer 
 7nind^  a  readier  apprehenjion^  and  gentler  difpo^ 
 Jitions  in  thatyj;\r,  than  in  the  other. 
 
 All  which  tempers,  if  they  were  truly  im- 
 proved by  proper  ftudies,  and  yS^^r  methods 
 of  education,  would  in  all  probability  carry 
 them  to  greater  heights  of  piety,  than  are  to 
 be  found  amongft  the  generahty  of  men. 
 
 For  this  reafon  I  fpeak  to  this  matter  w^ith 
 fo  much  openneis  and  plainnels,  becaufe  it  is 
 much  to  be  lamented,  that  perlbns  fo  natiiraU 
 ly  qualiiied  to  be  great  examples  of  pu-ty^ 
 fhould  by  an  erroneous  education,  be  made 
 poor  ?nd  gaudy  fpedacies  of  the  greateft  va- 
 nity. 
 
 The  Church  has  formerly  had  eminent  faints 
 in  that  fex  ;  and  it  may  reaibnably  be  thought, 
 that  it  is  purely  owing  to  their  poor  and  vai72' 
 education,  that  this  honour  of  their  lex  is  for 
 the  moJi  part  conlin'd  to  former  ages. 
 
 The 
 
5^o  yi  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 The  corruption  of  the  world  indulges  them 
 in  great  vanity,  and  mankind  iecm  to  confi- 
 dcr  them  in  no  other  view,  than  as  lb  many 
 fahited  tdols^  that  are  to  allure  and  gratify  their 
 pallions;  fo  that  if  many  women  are  vain^ 
 light ^  giigaw  creatures,  they  have  this  to  ex- 
 cufe  themfelves,  that  they  are  not  only  fuch 
 as  theit  education  has  made  them,  but  llich  as 
 the^^;;^r^//^K  of  the  world  allczvs  them  to  be. 
 
 But  then  they  fhould  confider,  that  the 
 friends  to  their  vanity  are  no  friends  of  theirs  ; 
 they  fhould  confider,  that  they  are  to  live  for 
 theinfelvesy  that  they  have  as  great  a  fhare  in 
 the  rational  nature  as  men  have ;  that  they 
 have  as  much  reafon  to  pretend,  and  as  much 
 necejfity  to  afpire  after  the  highefl  acconifViJlj'^ 
 ments  of  a  Chriftian  and  folid  virtue,  as  the 
 graveft  and  i^iffi  amongft  Chriftian  ^kilojb^ 
 fhers. 
 
 They  fhould  confider,  that  they  are  ahtis'd 
 
 and  injtir'dj  and  hetray  d  from  their  only  per- 
 
 feB'ion^  whenever  they  are  taught,    that  any 
 
 thine  is  an  ornament  in  them,  that  is  not  an 
 
 ornament  in  the  wifefl  amongft  mankind. 
 
 It  is  generally  laid,  that  women  are  natural- 
 ly of  little  and  vain  minds ;  but  this  I  look 
 upon  to  be  ?LsfalJe  and  iinreafonahle^  as  to  lay, 
 that  hatchers  are  naturally  cruel '^  for  as  their 
 cruelty  is  not  owing  to  their  nature^  but  to 
 their  way  of  life,  which  has  changed  their  na- 
 ture ;  lb  whatever  littlenefs  and  vanity  is  to  be 
 oblerved  in  the  minds  of  women,  it  is  like 
 the    cruelty    of    butchers^    a   temper  that  is 
 
 wrought 
 
to  a  Ve^out  and  Holy  Life.       351 
 
 wrought   into  them  by  that  life  which  they 
 are  taught  and  accn flamed  to  lead. 
 
 At  leaft  thus  much  muft  be  laid,  that  wc 
 cannot  charge  any  thing  upon  their  nature^  till 
 we  take  care  that  it  is  not  perverted  by  their 
 education. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  if  it  were  true, 
 that  they  were  thus  naturally  vain  and  light, 
 then  how  much  more  bJameable  is  that  edu- 
 cation, which  ieems  contrived  to  fircngthen 
 and  hicreafe  this  folly  and  weakneis  of  their 
 minds? 
 
 For  if  It  were  a  virtue  in  a  woman  to  be 
 proud  and  vain  in  herfelf,  we  could   hardly 
 take  better  means  to  raife  this  pailion  in  her, ' 
 than  thofe  that  are  now  ufed  in  their  educa- 
 tion. 
 
 Matilda  is  a  fine  woman,  of  good  breedings 
 ^i^'2Xjenfe^  and  much  religion.  She  has  three 
 daughters  that  are  educated  by  herfelf.  She 
 will  not  truft  them  with  any  one  elle,  or  at 
 ^v\y  fshool^  for  fear  they  fhould  learn  any  thing 
 ill.  She  ftays  with  the  Dancing-mafler  all  the 
 time  he  is  with  them,  bccaule  fhe  will  hear 
 every  thing  that  is  faid  to  them.  She  has 
 heard  them  read  the  Scriptures  lb  often,  that 
 they  can  repeat  great  part  of  it  without  book  : 
 And  there  is  fcarce  a  good  book  of  devot'ioUy 
 but  you  may  find  it  in  their  clofets. 
 
 Had  Matilda  liv'd  in  the  firft  ages  of  Chri- 
 ftianity,  when  it  was  praftisYi  in  the  jnlnejs 
 and  plainnefs  of  its  doftrincs,  Ihe  had  in  all 
 probability   been    one  of  its  greatcft   faints. 
 
 But 
 
35^  A  Smous  Call 
 
 But  as  fhe  was  born  in  corrupt  times,  \\\\txt 
 Ihe  wants  examples  of  Chriftian  pcrfeftionj 
 and  hardly  ever  law  a  piety  higher  than  her 
 own  ;  lb  Ihe  has  many  defers,  and  communi- 
 cates them  all  to  her  daughters. 
 
 Matilda  never  was  meanly  drefs*d  in  her  life ; 
 and  nothing  pleafes  her  in  drefs^  but  that 
 which  is  very  rlchj  and  heaiitijul  to  the  eye. 
 
 Her  daughters  fee  her  great  zeal  for  Religi- 
 on, but  then  they  fee  an  equal  carneftnefs  for 
 all  forts  oi  fnery.  They  fee  Ihe  is  not  negli- 
 gent of  her  devotlouy  but  then  they  fee  her 
 more  careful  to  prefervc  her  complexion^  and  to 
 prevent  thofe  changes,  which  time  and  age 
 threaten  her  with. 
 
 They  are.  afraid  to  meet  her,  if  they  have 
 mifs'd  the  Church  :^  but  then  they  are  more 
 afraid  to  fee  her,  if  they  are  not  lac\i  as 
 Jlraight  as  they  can  poilibly  be. 
 
 She  often  Ihews  them  her  ownpl^urej  which 
 was  taken  when  their  father  fell  in  love  with 
 her.  She  tells  them,  how  dlfiratied  he  was 
 with  paflion  at  \\iz  fir  ft  fight  of  her,  and  that 
 file  had  never  had  16  fine  a  complexion^  but  for 
 the  diligence  of  her  good  mother,  who  took 
 exceeding  care  of  it. 
 
 Matilda  is  fo  intent  upon  all  the  arts  of  im- 
 proving their  drefis^  that  Ihe  has  fome  new 
 fancy  almoft  every  day,  and  leaves  no  orna- 
 ment untry'd,  from  the  richeft  jewel  to  the 
 pooreft  jf^z£;^/\  She  is  fo  nice  and  critical  in 
 her  judgment,  fo  lenfible  of  the  fmallelt  error, 
 that  the  maid  is  often  forced  to  drefs  and  un- 
 a  dreft 
 
to  a  "Devout  and  Holy  Life,     355 
 
 drefs  her  daughters  three  or  four  times  in  a 
 day,  before  fhe  can  be  fatisfy'd  with  it. 
 
 As  to  the  patchings  ftie  referves  that  to  her 
 felf ;  for,  Ihe  iays,  if  they  are  not  ftuck  on 
 with  judgment,  they  are  rather  a  prejudice, 
 than  an  advantage  to  they^:?r^. 
 
 The  children  fee  lb  plainly  the  temper  of 
 their  mother,  that  they  even  affcd  to  be  77iore 
 pleased  with  drefs ,    and  to  be  more  fond  of 
 every  little  ornament,  than  they  really  are, 
 merely  to  gain  her  favour. 
 
 They  law  their  eldeft  filler  once  brought  to  her 
 tears^  and  hex  perverfenefslL^y^xcly  reprimand- 
 ed, for  prefuming  to  fay,  that  Ihe  thought  it 
 was  better  to  cover  the  necky  than  to  go  lo 
 far  naked  as  the  modern  drefs  requires. 
 
 She  flints  them  in  their  meals^  and  is  very 
 fcrupulous  of  what  they  eat  and  drink,  and 
 tells  them  how  many  fne  Jljapes  Ihe  has  feen 
 fpoil'd  in  her  time  for  want  of  fuch  care.  If 
 2i  pimple  riles  in  their  faces,  Ihe  is  in  a  great 
 fright,  and  they  themfelves  are  as  afraid  to  fee 
 her  with  it,  as  if  they  had  committed  fome 
 great  fin. 
 
 Whenever  they  begin  to  look  too  fanguine 
 and  healthful^  ihe  calls  in  the  affiftance  of  the 
 do&or  \  and  if  phyfick^  or  tffuesy  will  keep  the 
 complexion  from  inclining  to  coarfe  or  ruddy ^ 
 Ihe  thinks  them  w^ell  imploy'd. 
 
 By  this  means  they  are  poor^  pale^  f^^^fy 
 infirm  creatures,  vapour' d  through  want  of 
 fpirits,  crying  at  the  fmalleft  accidents,  Jwoon^ 
 ing  ^v{^Y  at  any  thing  that  frights  them,  and 
 
 A  a  hardly 
 
5^4  ^  Serious    C  A  L  t 
 
 hardly  able  to  bear  the  weight  of  their  beft 
 cloaths. 
 
 The  eldcft  daughter  Hv'd  as  long  as  flie 
 could  under  this  dilcipline,  and  dy'd  in  the 
 twentieth  year  of  her  age. 
 
 When  her  body  was  open'd,  it  appeared 
 that  her  ribs  had  grown  into  her  Uvery  and 
 that  her  other  entrails  were  much  hurt,  by 
 being  crufifd  together  with  her  flays^  which 
 her  mother  had  ordered  to  be  twitch'd  to  ftrait, 
 that  it  often  brought  tears  into  her  eyes,  whilft 
 the  maid  was  dreffing  her. 
 
 Her  youngeft  daughter  is  run  away  with 
 Tigamefier^  a  man  of  great  beauty,  who  in 
 dreffing  and  dancing  has  no  fuperior. 
 
 ^Matilda  fays,  flie  ftiould  die  with  grief  at 
 this  accident ;  but  that  her  confcience  tells  her, 
 fhe  has  contributed  nothing  to  it  her  felf. 
 She  appeals  to  their  clofcts^  to  their  books  of 
 devotion,  to  teftify  what  care  ihe  has  taken  to 
 eftabliih  her  children  in  a  life  of  folid  piety 
 and  devotion. 
 
 Now  though  I  don't  intend  to  fay,  that  no 
 daughters  are  brought  up  in  a  better  way  than 
 this,  for  I  hope  there  are  many  that  are  ;  yet 
 thus  much  I  believe  may  be  faid,  that  the 
 much  greater  part  of  them,  are  not  brought 
 up  fo  well,  or  accuftomed  to  fo  much  Religi- 
 on, as  in  the  prefent  inftance. 
 
 Their  minds  are  turn'd  as  much  to  the  care 
 of  their  beauty  and  drefs,  and  the  indulgence 
 of  vain  defires,  as  in  the  prefent  cafe,  with- 
 out having  fuch  rules  of  devotion  to  ftand 
 ^  •  againft 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        555 
 
 againft  it.  So  that  if  foUd  piety,  humility^ 
 and  cxfoherjenfe  of  thcmfelvcs,  is  much  want- 
 ed in  that  fex,  it  is  the  plain  and  natural 
 confequence  of  a  vain  and  corrupt  educa- 
 tion. 
 
 And  if  they  are  often  too  ready  to  receive 
 the  firft  jops ,  heiuixs^  and  fine  dancers^  for 
 their  husbands;  'tis  no  wonder  they  fhouldh'kc 
 that  in  men,  which  they  have  been  taught 
 to  admire  in  themfelves. 
 
 And  if  they  are  often  i^^n  to  lofe  that  lit- 
 tle Religion  they  w^ere  taught  in  their  youth, 
 ^tis  no  more  to  be  wonder'd  at,  than  to  lee 
 a  Ttttle  jiower  choak'd  and  killed  amongft  rank 
 weeds. 
 
 YoT  perfonal  ]^ndQ^  ^and  affeBation^  a  dellghp 
 in  beauty,  and  JGndnefs  of  finery,  are  tempers 
 that  mult  either  kill  all  Religion  in  the  foul, 
 or  be  themjelves  kill'd  by  it ;  they  can  no 
 more  thrive  together,  than  health  and  Jtck* 
 nefs. 
 
 Some  people  that  judge  haftily,  will  per- 
 haps here  fay,  that  I  am  exercifing  too  great 
 a  Icverity  againft  the  lex. 
 
 But  more  realonable  peribns  Vv'ill  eafily  ob- 
 ferve,  that  I  entirely  Ipare  the  fcx^  and  only 
 arraign  their  education  •  that  I  not  only  Iparc 
 them,  but  plead  their  intereft  j  affcrt  their 
 honour^  fet  forth  their  ferfeWions^  commend 
 their  natural  tempers,  and  only  condemn  that 
 education^  which  is  )^o  injurious  to  their  intc-» 
 refts,    fo  debafes  their   honour,    and  deprives 
 
 A  a  2  them 
 
515^  A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 them  of  the  benefit  of  their  excellent  natures 
 and  tempers. 
 
 Their  education  ^  I  profefs,  I  cannot  fpare  ; 
 but  tlie  only  realbn  is  ,  becaufe  it  is  their 
 great  eft  enemy  ^  becaufe  it  deprives  the  world 
 of  fo  many  blejfings^  and  the  Church  of  lb 
 many  faints^  as  might  rcafonably  be  expected 
 from  perlbns,  fo  formed  by  their  natural  tem- 
 pers to  all  goodnefs  and  tendernefs ,  and 
 io  fitted  by  the  clearnefs  and  brightnefs  of 
 their  minds,  to  contemplate,  love  and  admire 
 every  thing  that  is  holy,  virtuous  and  di- 
 vine. 
 
 If  it  fhould  here  be  faid,  that  I  even 
 charge  too  high  upon  their  education^  and  that 
 they  are  not  fo  miicb  hurt  by  it,  as  I  ima- 
 
 gine 
 
 It  may  be  anfwer'd,  that  though  I  don't 
 pretend  to  ftate  the  exaB  degree  of  milchief 
 that  is  done  by  it,  yet  its  plain  and  natural 
 tendency  to  do  harm,  is  fufiicient  to  juftify 
 the  molt  ahjblute  condemnation  of  it. 
 
 But  if  any  one  would  know,  how  generally 
 women  are  hurt  by  this  education  ;  if  he  ima- 
 gines there  may  be  no  peribnal  pride,  or  vain 
 fondnefs  of  themfelves,  in  thofe  that  are 
 fatch'd  and  drefsd  out  with  fo  much  glitter 
 of  art  and  ornament  : 
 
 Let  him  only  make  the  following  experi- 
 ment where-ever  he  pleafes. 
 
 Let  him  only  acquaint  any  fuch  woman 
 with  his  opinion  of  her:  I  don't  mean  that 
 he  fhould  tell  her  to  her  face,  or  do  it  in  any 
 
 jcude 
 
to  a  Dez'ont  arid  Holy  Life.        557 
 
 rude  publick  manner;  but  let  him  contrive 
 the  moft  clvily  Jecret^  friendly  way  that  he 
 can  think  of,  only  to  let  her  know  his  opini- 
 on, that  he  thinks  Ihe  is  neither  h.uidjmnej 
 nor  drejjes  wxll,  nor  becomes  her  finery ;  and  I 
 dare  fay  he  will  find  there  are  but  very  few 
 jine  drefsd  women,  that  will  like  him  never 
 the  worle  for  his  bare  ofin'iori^  though  known 
 to  none  but  themfelves  ;  and  that  he  will  not 
 be  long  without  feeing  the  effeBs  of  her  rc- 
 icntment. 
 
 But  if  fuch  an  experiment  would  fliew  him 
 that  there  are  but  few  luch  women  that  could 
 bear  with  his  friendfiip^  after  they  knew  he 
 had  fuch  an  opinion  of  them,  furely  it  is  time 
 to  complain  of,  and  accufe  that  education  ^ 
 which  lb  generally  corrupts  their  hearts. 
 
 For  though  it  is  hard  to  judge  of  the  hearts 
 of  people,  yet  where  they  declare  their  re^ 
 fentment  ^  and  tmeajinefs  at  any  thing,  there 
 they  pafs  the  judgment  upon  themfelves.  If 
 a  woman  can't  forgive  a  man  who  thinks  Ihe 
 has  no  beauty^  nor  any  ornament  from  her 
 drefs,  there  ftie  infalltbly  di (covers  the  flate  of 
 her  own  heart,  and  is  condemned  by  her  owUy 
 and  not  another's  judgment. 
 
 For  we  never  are  afigry  at  others,  but  when 
 their  opinions  of  us  are  contrary  to  that  which 
 we  have  of  our  felves. 
 
 A  man  that  makes  no  pretences  to  fcholar- 
 fliip,  is  never  angry  at  thole  that  don't  take 
 him  to  be  a  fcholar  :  So  if  a  woman  had  no 
 cfmion  of  her  own  perfomnd  drefs ^  Ihe  would 
 ^  Aa  3  never 
 
5158  A  Serious    Call 
 
 never  be  angry  at  thole,  ^vho  are  of  the  fame 
 opnlon  with  her  fclf. 
 
 So  that  the  general  bad  effeds  of  this  edu- 
 cation are  too  much  known,  to  admit  of  any 
 reafonable  doubt. 
 
 But  how  poffible  it  is  to  bring  up  daugh- 
 ters in  a  more  excellent  way,  let  the  following 
 charafter  declare. 
 
 Enfeblci  is  a  pious  wridow,  wxll  born,  and 
 well  bred,  and  has  a  good  eftate.for  five  daugh- 
 ters, whom  ftie  brings  up  as  one  entrufted  by 
 God,  to  fit  five  Virgins  for  the  kingdom  of 
 Heaven.  Her  family  has  the  lame  regulation 
 as  a  religious  houfe^  and  all  its  orders  tend  to 
 the  fupport  of  a  conftant  regular  devotion. 
 
 She,  her  daughters^  and  her  maids^  meet 
 together  at  all  the  hours  oj  frayer  in  the  day, 
 and  chant  Pfalms,  and  other  devotions,  and 
 fpend  the  reft  of  their  time  in  luch  good 
 works ,  and  innocent  diverfions ,  as  render 
 them  fit  to  return  to  their  ^Pfalms  and 
 ^^rayers. 
 
 She  loves  them  as  her  fpiritual  children, 
 and  they  reverence  her  as  their  fpiritual  mo- 
 ther, with  an  affeftion  far  above  that  of  the 
 fondeft  friends. 
 
 She  has  divided  part  of  her  eftate  amongft 
 them,  that  everyone  may  be  charitable  out 
 of  their  own  ilock,  and  each  of  them  take  it 
 in  their  turns  to  provide  for  the  foor  and  Jick 
 of  the  Pariih. 
 
 Eufebia  brings  them  up  to  all  kinds  of  la- 
 bour that  are  proper  for  women,  as  fowhigy 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        g^p 
 
 kmttwg.y  fpinn'wg^  and  all  other  parts  of  hotife^ 
 wtfery  \  not  for  their  amufanent  ^  but  that 
 they  may  be  ferviceable  to  themfelvcs  and 
 others,  and  be  fav'd  from  thole  temptations 
 which  attend  an  idle  life. 
 
 She  tells  them,  fhe  had  rather  fee  them  re- 
 duced to  the  neceffity  of  maintaining  them- 
 felvcs by  their  own  work,  than  to  have  riches 
 to  excufe  themlelves  from  labour.  For 
 though,  fays  fhe,  you  may  be  able  to 
 affift  the  poor  without  your  labour,  yet  by 
 your  labour  you  will  be  able  to  ailiit  them 
 more. 
 
 If  Etifehia  has  liv'd  as  free  from  fin  as  it  is 
 poflible  for  human  nature,  it  is  becaufe  Ihc  is 
 always  watching  and  guarding  againft  all  in- 
 jiances  of  pride.  And  if  her  virtues  are  ftron- 
 ger  and  higher  than  other  people's,  'tis  becaufe 
 they  are  all  founded  in  a  deep  himility. 
 
 My  children,  fays  fhe,  when  your  father 
 dy'd,  I  was  much  pity'd  by  my  friends,  as 
 having  all  the  care  of  a  family,  and  the  ma- 
 nagement of  an  Gftate  fallen  upon  me. 
 
 But  my  own  grief  was  founded  upon  ano- 
 ther principle ;  I  was  griev'd  to  fee  my  lelf 
 deprived  of  fo  faithful  a  friend,  and  that  fuch 
 an  eminent  example  of  Chriftian  virtues, 
 Ihould  be  taken  from  the  eyes  of  his  children, 
 before  they  were  of  an  age  to  love  and  fol- 
 low it. 
 
 But  as  to  worldly  cares,  which  my  friends 
 
 thought  fo  heavy  upon  me,  they  are  moft  of 
 
 Aa  4  them 
 
3^o 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 them  of  our  own  making,  and  fall  away  as 
 ibon  as  we  know  our  J  elves. 
 
 If  a  perfon  in  a  dream  is  diftarb'd  with 
 ftrange  appearances,  his  trouble  is  over  as 
 foon  as  he  is  awake^  and  fees  that  it  was  the 
 folly  of  a  dream. 
 
 Now  when  a  right  knowledge  of  our  felves 
 enters  into  our  minds,  it  makes  as  great  a 
 change  in  all  our  thoughts  and  apprehenfions, 
 as  when  we  awake  from  the  wandrlngs  of  a 
 dream. 
 
 We  acknowledge  a  man  to  be  mad^  or  me- 
 lancholy^  who  fancies  himfelf  to  be  ghfs^  and 
 ib  is  afraid  of  ftirring^  or  taking  himfelf  to 
 be  waXy  dare  not  let  the  Sun  ftiine  upon 
 him. 
 
 But,  my  children,  there  are  things  in  the 
 world  which  pafs  for  wtjdom^  pVitenejs^  gran^ 
 deufj  happlnefsj  ^nd^ne  breeding j  which  Ihew 
 as  great  ignorance  of  our  felves,  and  might  as 
 juftly  pals  for  thorough  madnefsj  as  when  a 
 man  fancies  himlelf  to  be  glajs^  or  ice. 
 
 A  woman  that  dares  not  appear  in  the 
 world  without  Jine  deaths^  that  thinks  it  a 
 happinefs  to  have  a  i'dQtJinely  colour' d^  to  have 
 a  skin  delicately  fair ^  that  had  rather  die  than 
 be  reduced  to  poverty,  and  be  forc'd  to  work 
 for  a  poor  maintenance,  is  as  ignorant  of  her 
 felf  to  the  full,  as  he  that  fancies  himlelf  to 
 be^/^yi. 
 
 For  this  reafbn,  all  my  dilcourfe  with  you, 
 has  been  to  acquaint  you  with  your  lelves, 
 And  to  accuftom  you  to  fuch  books  and  devo- 
 tions^ 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      3^1 
 
 tions,  as  may  bell  inftruft  you  in  this  grcateft 
 of  all  knowledge. 
 
 You  would  think  it  hard,  not  to  know  the 
 family  into  which  you  was  born,  what  ance- 
 ftors  you  were  delcended  from ,  and  what 
 eftate  was  to  come  to  you.  But,  my  children, 
 you  may  know  all  this  with  exadnels,  and 
 yet  be  as  ignorant  of  your  felves,  as  he  that 
 takes  himlelf  to  be  wax. 
 
 For  though  you  were  all  of  you  born  of 
 my  body,  and  bear  your  father's  name,  yet 
 you  are  all  of  you  pure  Jpirits.  I  don't  mean 
 that  you  have  not  bodies  that  want  meat  and 
 drmkj  and  Jleep^  and  chathing^  but  that  all 
 that  deferves  to  be  called  you^  is  nothing  elle 
 but  fp'trtt.  A  being  Ipiritual  and  rational  in 
 its  nature,  that  is  as  contrary  to  all  flelhly 
 or  corporeal  beings,  as  Uje  is  contrary  to  death:, 
 that  is  made  in  the  image  of  God,  to  live  for 
 ever,  never  to  ceafe  any  more,  but  to  enjoy 
 life^  and  reafon^  and  knowledge^  and  happmefs 
 in  the  prefence  of  God,  and  the  Ibciety  of 
 Angels  5  and  glorious  Spirits,  to  all  eter- 
 nity. 
 
 Every  thing  that  you  call  yours,  befides 
 this  fpirit,  is  but  like  your  cloathing  ^  fome- 
 thing  that  is  only  to  be  us'd  for  a  while,  and 
 then  to  end^  and  dte^  and  wear  away^  and  to 
 lignify  no  more  to  you,  than  the  cloathing  and 
 bodies  of  other  people. 
 
 But,  my  children,  you  are  not  only  in  this 
 manner y/^/V/Vj,  but  you  zxq  fallen  fpirits,  that 
 began  your  life  in  a  ftate  of  corruption  and 
 
 dilbr- 
 
5^2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 diibrdcr,  full  oi'  tempers  and  paillons,  that 
 blind  and  darken  the  reafon  of  your  mind, 
 and  incline  you  to  that  which  is  hurtful. 
 
 Your  bodies  are  not  only  poor  and  perljhlng 
 like  your  clOaths,  but  they  are  like  hifeBed 
 deaths^  that  fill  you  with  ill  difeafes  and  dillem- 
 pers,  which  opprefs  the  Ibul  with  fickly  ap- 
 petites^ and  vain  cravings. 
 
 So  that  all  of  us  are  like  two  beings,  that 
 have,  as  it  were,  two  hearts  within  us ;  w^ith 
 the  one  we  fee^  and  talte,  and  admire  reafon, 
 purity  and  holinefs ;  with  the  other  we  incline 
 to  pride,  and  vanity,  and  ienfual  delights. 
 
 This  internal  war  we  always  feel  within  us 
 more  or  lels  ;  and  if  you  would  know  the 
 one  thing  neceffary  to  all  the  world  ,  it  is 
 this  *  to  prelerve  and  perfed  all  that  is  ratio- 
 iialj  holy  and  div'jne  in  our  nature,  and  to  mor- 
 tify, remove  and  deftroy  all  that  vanity ^  pride 
 :sLndfenftiaUty^  which  fprings  from  the  corrup- 
 tion of  our  ftate  ? 
 
 Could  you  think,  my  children,  when  you 
 look  at  the  world,  and  fee  what  ctijiofns^  and 
 fajhions^  2in6. pie aftires^  and  troubles^  ^nd  projeBsy 
 and  tempers^  employ  the  hearts  and  time  of 
 mankind,  that  things  were  thus,  as  I  have  told 
 you  ? 
 
 But  don't  you  be  affefted  at  thefc  things, 
 the  w^orld  is  in  a  great  dream^  and  but  few 
 people  are  awake  in  it. 
 
 We  fancy  that  we  fall  into  darlcnefs,.  when 
 wxdie;  but  alas,  we  are  moft-ti^lF  u$  in  the 
 dark  'till  thenj  and  the  eyes  of  our  fouls  on- 
 ly 
 
to  a  Vc'voHt  and  Ihly  Life,  363 
 
 ly  then  begin  to  fee,  when  our  bodily  eyes 
 are  clofing. 
 
 You  lee  then  your  ftate,  my  children  •  you 
 are  to  honour,  improve  and  perfed  the  fpirit 
 that  is  within  you,  you  are  to  prepare  it  for 
 the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  to  nourifh  it  with 
 the  love  of  God,  and  of  virtue,  to  adorn  it 
 with  good-works,  and  to  make  it  as  holy  and 
 heavenly  as  you  can.  You  are  to  prclervc  it 
 from  the  errors  and  vanities  of  the  world-  to 
 lave  it  from  the  corruptions  of  the  body, 
 from  thofe  falfe  delights,  and  leniual  tempers, 
 which  the  body  tempts  it  with. 
 
 You  are  to  nourilh  your  fpirits  with  pious 
 readings,  and  holy  meditations,  with  watch- 
 ings,  faftings ,  and  prayers ,  that  you  may 
 tafte,  and  relifh,  and  defire  that  eternal  ftate, 
 w^hich  is  to  begin  when  this  life  ends. 
 
 As  to  your  bodies,  you  are  to  confider  them 
 as  poor^  fertjh'ing  things,  that  are  fickly  and 
 corrupt  at  prefent,  and  will  foon  drop  into 
 common  duft.  You  are  to  watch  over  them 
 as  enemies^  that  arc  always  trying  to  tempt 
 and  betray  you,  and  lb  never  follow  their  ad- 
 vice and  counfel ;  yon  are  to  confider  them  as 
 the  flace  and  habitation  of  your  ibuls,  and  ^o 
 keep  them  pire^  and  clean^  and  decent  •  you 
 are  to  confider  them  as  the  lervants  and  in- 
 ftruments  of  action,'  and  lb  give  them  food^ 
 and  reji ,  and  raiment ,  that  they  may  be 
 ftrong  and  healthful  to  do  the  duties  of  a  cha- 
 ritable, ufeful,  pious  life. 
 
 Whilft 
 
3^4 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 ^Whilft  you  live  thus,  you  live  like  your 
 felves ;  and  whenever  you  have  lels  regard  to 
 your  fouls,  or  more  regard  to  your  bodies, 
 than  this  comes  to ;  whenever  you  are  more 
 intent  upon  adorning  your  perlbns,  than  up- 
 on the  perfefting  of  your  fouls,  you  are  much 
 more  befide  yourfelves,  than  he,  that  had  ra- 
 ther have  a  lac'd  coatj  than  an  healthful  body. 
 
 For  this  reafon,  my  children,  I  have  taught 
 you  nothing  that  was  dangerous  for  you  to  learn; 
 I  have  kept  you  from  every  thing  that  might 
 betray  you  into  weaknefs  and  folly ;  or  make 
 you  think  any  thing  fine,  but  z.  fne  mtnd'^ 
 any  thing  happy,  but  the  favour  of  God ;  or 
 any  thing  defirable,  but  to  do  all  the  good 
 you  poffibly  can. 
 
 Inftead  of  the  vain,  immodeft  entertain- 
 ment of  'Inlays  and  Opera's^  I  have  taught  you 
 to  delight  in  vifiting  xht  Jick  znd  poor.  What 
 rmjicky  and  dancings  and  dlverjions  are  to  ma- 
 ny in  the  world,  that  prayers,  and  devotions, 
 and  Pfalms  are  to  you.  Your  hands  have  not 
 been  employed  in  plaiting  the  hair,  and  a- 
 dorning  your  pcrfons ;  but  in  making  cloaths 
 for  the  naked.  Ycu  have  not  wafted  your 
 fortunes  upon  yourfelves,  but  have  added 
 your  labour  to  them,  for  to  do  more  good  to 
 other  people. 
 
 Inftead  of  forc'd  papes^^  patched  facesy  gen- 
 teel  a'rrsj  and  affeBed  motions^  I  have  taught 
 you  to  conceal  your  bodies  with  mo dcji garment Sy 
 and  let  the  world  haye  nothing  to  view  of 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       5^5 
 
 you,  but  the  flahwejsy  th^Jincerlty^  and  Jpu- 
 m'lVtty  of  all  your  behaviour. 
 
 You  know,  my  children,  the  high  ferfed;U 
 on^  and  the  great  rewards  of  virginity  ;  you 
 know  how  it  frees  from  worldly  cares  and 
 troubles,  and  furnifhes  means  and  opportuni- 
 ties of  higher  advancements  in  a  divine  life ; 
 therefore  love,  and  efteem,  and  honour  virgi- 
 nity :  blefs  God  for  all  that  glorious  company 
 of  holy  virgins,  that  from  the  beginning  of 
 Chriftianity  have,  in  the  feveral  ages  of  the 
 Church,  renounced  the  cares  and  pleafures  of 
 matrimony,  to  be  perpetual  examples  of  foli- 
 tude,  contemplation,  and  prayer. 
 
 But  as  every  one  has  their  proper  gift  from 
 God,  as  I  look  upon  you  all  to  be  fo  many 
 great  bleffings  of  a  married  ftate;  fo  I  leave  it 
 to  your  choice,  either  to  do  as  I  have  done,  or 
 to  afpire  after  higher  degrees  of  perfeftion  in  a 
 virgin  ftate  of  life. 
 
 I  defire  nothing,  I  prefs  nothing  upon  you, 
 but  to  make  the  moll  of  human  life,  and  to 
 afpire  after  perfedion  in  whatever  ftate  of  life 
 you  chufe. 
 
 Never  therefore  confider  yourfelves  as  per- 
 fons  that  are  to  be  fecn^  admir'd  and  courted 
 by  men ;  but  as  poor  Jinners^  that  are  to  fave 
 yourfelves  from  the  vanities  and  follies  of  a 
 miferable  world,  by  htimillty^  devotion^  and 
 felf-dentah  Learn  to  live  for  your  own  fakes, 
 and  the  fervice  of  God  ^  and  let  nothing  in 
 the  world  be  of  any  value  with  you,  but  that 
 
 which 
 
0^66  A  Serious  Call 
 
 \vhich  you  can  turn  into  a  fervice  to  God,  and 
 a  means  of  your  future  happinefs. 
 
 Confider  often  how  powerfully  you  are  cal- 
 led to  a  virtuous  life,  and  what  great  and 
 glorious  things  God  has  done  for  you,  to  make 
 you  in  love  with  every  thing  that  can  promote 
 his  glory. 
 
 Think  upon  the  vanity  and  fhortnefs  of 
 human  life,  and  let  death  and  eternity  be  oft- 
 en in  your  minds ;  for  thefe  thoughts  will 
 ftrengthen  and  exalt  your  minds,  make  you 
 wale  and  judicious,  and  truly  fenfible  of  the 
 littlenefs  of  all  human  things. 
 
 Think  of  the  happinefs  of  prophets  and 
 apoftles,  laints  and  martyrs,  who  are  now  re- 
 picing  in  the  prefcnce  of  God,  and  fee  them- 
 selves poffcflbrs  of  eternal  glory.  And  then 
 think  how^  defirable  a  thing  it  is,  to  watch 
 and  pray,  and  do  good  as  they  did,  that  when 
 you  dye  you  may  have  your  lot  amongft 
 them. 
 
 Whether  marry'd  therefore,  or  unmarry'd, 
 con'i^der  yourfelves  as  mothers  and  lifters,  as 
 friends  and  relations. to  all  that  want  your  af- 
 fiftan  ce ;  and  never  allow  yourfelves  to  be  idle, 
 whiU  I  others  are  in  want  of  any  thing  that 
 your  hands  can  make  for  them. 
 
 This  ufeful,  charitable,  humble  employ- 
 ment of  yourfelves,  is  what  I  recommend  to 
 you  w  ith  great  earneftnefs,  as  being  a  fubftan- 
 tial  pa  rt  of  a  wife  and  pious  life.  And  be- 
 fides  tjhe  good  you  will  thereby  do  to  other 
 
 people, 
 
 ! 
 
 i 
 
to  a  T)e^dut  and  Holy  Life.  ^6j 
 
 people,  every  virtue  of  your  own  heart  will 
 be  very  mueh  improved  by  it. 
 
 For  next  to  read'n^g^  med/tcith^,  and  praye?-^ 
 there  is  nothing  that  lb  lecures  our  hearts  from 
 foolifh  paffions,  nothing  that  prelerves  fo  ho- 
 ly and  wile  a  frame  of  mind,  as  Ibme  tij'ejul^ 
 humble  employment  of  ourfelves. 
 
 Never  therefore  confider  your  labour  as  an 
 amufement^  that  is  to  get  rid  of  your  time, 
 and  fo  may  be  as  trifling  as  you  pleale ;  but 
 confider  it  as  fomething  that  is  to  be  fervice- 
 able  to  yourfelves  and  others,  that  is  to  ferve 
 fome  Ibber  ends  of  life,  to  fave  and  redeem 
 your  time,  and  make  it  turn  to  your  account, 
 when  the  works  of  all  people  Ihall  be  try'd  by 
 fire. 
 
 When  you  was  little,  I  left  you  to  little  a- 
 mufements,  to  pleafe  yourfelves  in  any  things 
 that  were  free  from  harm ;  but  as  you  are  now 
 grown  up  to  a  knowledge  of  God,  and  your 
 lelves  ^  as  your  minds  are  now  acquainted  with 
 the  worth  and  value  of  virtue,  and  exalted 
 v/ith  the  great  doftrines  of  Religion,  you  are 
 now  to  do  nothing  as  children,  but  defpife 
 every  thing  that  is  poor,  or  vain,  and  imper- 
 tinent \  you  are  now  to  make  the  labours  of 
 your  hands  fuitable  to  the  piety  of  your 
 hearts,  and  employ  yourfelves  for  the  lame, 
 ends,  and  with  the  lame  fpirit,  as  you  watch 
 and  fray. 
 
 For  if  there  is  any  good  to  be  done  by  your 
 labour,  if  you  can  poffibly  employ  yourfelves 
 ufefully  to  other  people,  hov/  filly  is  it,  how 
 
 con- 
 
5^8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 contrary  to  the  wifdom  of  Religion,  to  make 
 that  a  77iere  amiifemcnt^  which  might  as  eafily 
 be  made  an  exercife  of  the  greateji  charity  ? 
 
 What  would  you  think  of  the  wifdom  of 
 him,  that  Ihould  employ  his  time  in  diftilling 
 of  waters,  and  making  liquors  which  no  body 
 could  ufe,  merely  to  amufe  himfelf  with  the 
 variety  of  their  colour  and  clearnefs,  when 
 with  lefs  labour  and  expence  he  might  fatisfy 
 the  wants  of  thofe,  who  have  nothing  to 
 drink  ? 
 
 Yet  he  would  be  as  wifely  employ'd,  as 
 thole  that  are  amufing  themfelves  with  fuch 
 tedious  works  as  they  neither  need,  nor  hard- 
 ly know  how  to  ufe  when  they  are  finifli'd ; 
 when  with  lefs  labour  and  expence  they  might 
 be  doing  as  much  good,  as  he  that  is  cloathing 
 the  naked,  or  vljiting  the  fick. 
 
 Be  glad  therefore  to  know  the  wants  of  the 
 pooreft  people,  and  let  your  hands  be  employ'd 
 in  making  fuch  mean  and  ordinary  things  for 
 them,  as  their  neceilities  require.  By  thus 
 making  your  labour  a  gift  and  fervicc  to  the 
 poor,  your  ordinary  work  will  be  changed  in- 
 to a  holy  fervice,  and  made  as  acceptable  to 
 God,  as  your  devotions. 
 
 And  as  charity  is  the  greateft  of  all  virtues, 
 as  it  always  was  the  chief  temper  of  the  great- 
 eft  faints  i  fo  nothing  can  make  your  own 
 charity  more  amiable  in  the  fight  of  God,  than 
 this  method  of  adding  your  labour  to  it. 
 
 The  humility  alio  of  this  employment  will 
 be  as  beneficial  to  you,  as  the  charity  of  it. 
 
 It 
 
to  a  De^opit  a  fid  Holy  Life.       ^6p 
 
 It  will  keep  you  from  all  vain  and  proud 
 thoughts  of  your  own  ftate  and  diftindion  in 
 life,  and  from  treating  the  poor  as  creatures  of 
 a  different  fpecies.  By  accuftoming  yourfelves 
 to  this  labour  and  fervice  for  the  poor,  as  thQ 
 reprefentatlves  of  Jefus  Chrijfl:,  you  will  foon 
 find  your  heart  Ibften'd  into  the  greateft  meek- 
 neft  and  lowlinefs  towards  them.  You  will 
 reverence  their  eftate  and  condition,  think  it 
 an  honour  to  ferve  them,  and  never  be  lb 
 pleas'd  with  yourfelf,  as  w^hen  you  are  moji' 
 humbly  employed  in  their  lervice. 
 
 This' wall  make  you  true  difciples  of  your 
 meek  Lord  and  Mailer,  who  cajne  into  the 
 world  not  to  he  mlm fired  imto^  hat  to  mint  ft  er  ; 
 and  tho'  he  was  Lord  of  all,  and  amongft  the 
 creatures  of  his  ow^n  making,  yet  was  amongft 
 them,  as  one  that  ferveth. 
 
 Chriftianity  has  then  had  its  moft  glorious 
 effefts  upon  your  hearts,  w^hen  it  has  thus 
 changed  your  fpirlt,  removed  all  the  pride  of 
 life  from  you,  and  made  you  delight  in  hum- 
 bling yourfelves  beneath  the  loweft  of  all  your 
 fellow-creatures. 
 
 Live  therefore,  my  children,  as  you  have 
 begun  your  lives,  in  humble  labour  for  the 
 good  of  others;  and  let  ceremonious  vifits, 
 and  vain  acquaintances,  have  as  little  of  your 
 time  as  you.  poffibly  can.  Contrad  no  foolifh. 
 friendfhips,  or  vain  fondnefles  for  particular 
 perlbns ;  but  love  them  moft,  that  moft  turn 
 your  love  towards  God,  and  your  compaffioa 
 towards  all  the  world. 
 
 B  b  But 
 
570  A  Serious  Call 
 
 But  above  all,  avoid  the  converfation  of 
 fi}7e'hred  fops  and  heaux^  and  hate  nothing 
 more  than  the  idle  difcourfe,  the  flattery  and 
 compliments  of  that  fort  of  men ;  for  they 
 are  xhcjhame  of  their  ov^nJeXy  and  ought  to 
 be  the  abhorrence  of  ours. 
 
 When  you  go  abroad,  let  humility,  mo- 
 defty,  and  a  decent  carriage,  be  all  the  Jlate 
 that  you  take  upon  you ;  and  let  tendernefs, 
 companion,  and  good  nature,  be  all  the  ?5>;^ 
 breeding  that  you  Ihew  in  any  place. 
 
 If  evil  fpeakwg^  fcandaJ^  or  backhlt'tng^  be 
 the  converfation  where  you  happen  to  be, 
 keep  your  heart  and  your  tongue  to  yourfelf ;, 
 be  as  much  griev'd  as  if  you  was  amongft  cur- 
 ling and  fwearing,  and  retire  as  foon  as  you 
 can. 
 
 Though  you  intend  to  marry,  yet  let  the 
 time  never  come,  till  you  find  a  man  that  has 
 thole  perfections,  which  you  have  been  labour- 
 ing after  yourfelves  ;  who  is  likely  to  be  a 
 friend  to  all  your  virtues,  and  w^ith  whom  it 
 is  better  to  live,  than  to  want  the  benefit  of 
 his  example. 
 
 "Love  poverty  J  znd  rtycrcncc  poor  people '^  as 
 for  many  reafons,  fo  particularly  for  this,  be- 
 caufe  our  blefled  Saviour  was  one  of  the  num- 
 ber, and  becaufe  you  may  make  them  all  ib 
 many  friends  and  advocates  with  God  for  you. 
 
 Vifit  and  converfe  with  them  frequently  ; 
 you  will  often  find  fmipUcity^  hinocence^  pati^ 
 ^nccjfortittide^  and  great  piety  amongft  them; 
 
 and 
 
to  a  7)ez^ont  and  Holy  Life.      571 
 
 and  where  they  are  not  Ilo^  your  good  exam- 
 ple may  amend  them. 
 
 Rejoice  at  every  opportunity  of  doing  aa 
 humble  aftion,  and  exercifing  the  meeknels 
 of  your  minds  ;  whether  it  be,  as  the  Scri- 
 pture exprelTes  it,  in  wajlj'tng  the  fahits  feet y 
 that  is,  in  waiting  upon,  and  ferving  thofe 
 that  are  below  you  ;  or  in  bearing  with  the 
 haughtinels  and  ill-manners  of  thofe  that  are 
 your  equals,  or  above  you.  For  there  is  no- 
 thing better  than  humility;  it  is  the  fruitful 
 foil  of  all  virtues ;  and  every  thing  that  is 
 kind  and  good,  naturally  grows  from  it. 
 
 Therefore,  my  children,  pray  for,  and  pra- 
 ctife  humility,  and  rejed  every  thing  in  drefsy 
 or  carriage^  or  converfation^  that  has  any  ap-^ 
 pearance  of  pride. 
 
 Strive  to  do  every  thing  that  is  praife- wor- 
 thy, but  do  nothing  in  order  to  be  praifedj 
 nor  think  of  any  reward  for  all  your  labours 
 of  love  and  virtue,  till  Chrift  cometh  with  all 
 his  holy  angels. 
 
 And  above  all,  my  children,  have  a  care  of 
 vain  and  proud  thoughts  of  your  own  virtues. 
 For  as  foon  as  ever  people  live  different  from 
 the  common  way  of  the  world,  and  defpile 
 its  vanities,  the  devil  reprefents  to  their  minds 
 the  height  of  their  own  perfeftions;  and  is 
 content  they  fliould  excel  in  good  works,  pro- 
 vided that  he  can  but  make  them  proud  of 
 them. 
 
 Therefore  watch  over  your  virtues  with  a 
 .  jealous  eye,  and  rejed  every  vain  thought,  as 
 \^  B  b  2  you 
 
^y2  A  Serious  C  A  L  t 
 
 you  would  rejeft  the  moft  wicked  imagmati-' 
 on ;  and  think  what  a  lols  it  would  be  to  you, 
 to  have  the  fruit  of  all  your  good  works  de- 
 voured by  the  vanity  of  your  own  minds. 
 
 Never  therefore  allow  yourfelves  to  defpife 
 thofe  who  do  not  follow  your  rules  of  life; 
 but  force  your  hearts  to  love  them,  and  pray 
 to  God  for  them ;  and  let  humility  be  always 
 zMfperlng  it  into  your  ears,  that  you  your 
 felves  will  fall  from  thofe  rules  to-morrow,  if 
 God  Ihould  'leave  you  to  your  own  ftrength 
 and  wifdom. 
 
 When  therefore  you  have  fpent  days  and 
 weeks  well,  don't  fuffcr  your  hearts  to  con- 
 template any  thing  as  your  own,  but  give  all 
 the  glory  to  the  goodnefs  of  God,  who  has 
 carry'd  you  through  fuch  rules  of  holy  living, 
 as  you  were  not  able  to  obferve  by  your  own 
 ftrength  ;  and  take  care  to  begin  the  next  day, 
 not  as  proficients  in  virtue,  that  can  do  great 
 matters,  but  as  poor  beginners^  that  v/ant  the 
 daily  alliftance  of  God  to  lave  you  from  the 
 
 Your  dear  father  was  an  humble,  watchful, 
 pious,  wife  man.  Whilft  his  ficknefs  would 
 fuffer  him  to  talk  with  me,  his  difcourfe  was 
 chiefly  about  your  education.  He  knew  the 
 benefits  of  humility,  he  faw  the  ruins  which 
 pride  made  in  our  lex;  and  therefore  he  con- 
 jured me  with  the  tendereft  exprefiions,  to  re- 
 nounce the  faflo'iojiahle  ways  of  educating 
 daughters  in  fride  -xndfoftnej's^  in  the  care  of 
 |:heir  beauty  and  drefs ;  and  to  bring  you  all  up 
 
 ia 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        ^y-^ 
 
 m  the  plcunejij  Jimfleft  inftances  of  an  hunibic, 
 hoJy,  and  induftrious  life. 
 
 He  taught  mc  an  adm'irahle  rule  of  humi- 
 lity, which  he  praftis'd  all  the  days  of  his 
 life;  which  was  this;  to  let  no  morning  pals, 
 without  thinking  upon  iovn^  frailty  and  /;;yfr- 
 nuty  of  our  own,  that  may  put  us  to  cojifnfto?!^ 
 make  us  bhtjb  inivardly^  and  entertain  a  mean 
 opinion  of  our  1  elves. 
 
 Think  therefore,  my  children,  that  the 
 foul  of  your  good  father,  who  is  now  with 
 God,  ipeaks  to  you  through  my  mouth ;  and 
 let  the  double  defire  of  your  father,  who  is 
 gone,  and  I,  who  am  with  you,  prevail  upon 
 you  to  love  God,  to  ftudy  your  own  perlecti- 
 on,  to  pradife  humility,  and  with  innocent 
 labour  and  charity,  to  do  all  the  good  that 
 you  can  to  all  your  fellow-creatures,  'till  God 
 calls  you  to  another  life. 
 
 Thus  did  the  pious  widow  educate  her 
 daughters. 
 
 The  fpirit  of  this  education  fpeaks  fo  plain- 
 ly for  its  felf,  that,  I  hope,  I  need  lay  noihing 
 in  its  juftification.  If  we  could  lee  it  in  life, 
 as  well  as  read  of  it  in  books,  the  world 
 would  loon  find  the  happy  effcds  of  it, 
 
 A  daughter  thus  educated,  would  be  a  blel- 
 fing  to  any  family  that  Ihe  came  into;  a  lit 
 companion  for  a  wile  man,  and  make  him 
 happy  i\\  the  government  of  his  family,  and 
 the  education  of  his  children. 
 
 And  fhe  that  either  was  not  inclin'd,  or 
 could  not  difpolc  of  her  lelf  well  in  marriage, 
 
 F  b  3  would 
 
574  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 would  know  how  to  live  to  great  and  exceL* 
 lent  ends  in  a  ftate  of  virginity. 
 
 A  very  ordinary  knowledge  of  the  fp'int  of 
 Chriftianity,  fecms  to  be  enough  to  convince 
 us,  that  no  education  can  be  of  true  advan- 
 tage to  young  women,  but  that  which  trains 
 them  up  in  humble  mdaflry^  in  great  plalnnefs 
 of  life,  in  exa^  modefly  of  drej's^  manners  and 
 carriage^  and  in  JlrtB  devotion.  For  what 
 fliould  a  Chriftian  woman  be,  but  2i  plain ^  un^ 
 affetied^  mode  ft ,  humble  creature  ,  averfe  to 
 every  thing  in  her  drefs  and  carnage^  that  can 
 draw  the  eyes  of  beholders,  or  gratify  the  paC- 
 lions  of  lewd  and  amorous  perlbns  ? 
 
 How  great  a  ftranger  muft  he  be  to  the 
 Gofpel,  who  does  not  know  that  it  requires 
 this  to  be  the  Ipirit  of  a  pious  woman  ? 
 
 Our  bleffed  Saviour  faith,  Whofoever  looketh 
 npon  a  woman  to  lufl  after  her , 
 5^  Matth.  V.      j^^^j^  already     committed    adultery 
 with  her  in  his  heart. 
 
 Need  an  education  which  turns  women's 
 minds  to  the  arts  and  ornaments  of  drefs 
 and  beauty ,  be  more  ftrongly  condemned, 
 than  by  thefe  words  ?  For  furely,  if  the  eye 
 is  fo  eafily  and  dangeroufly  betray'd,  every  art 
 and  ornament  is  fufficiently  condemned,  that 
 naturally  tends  to  betray  it. 
 
 And  how  can  a  woman  of  piety  more  juft- 
 ly  abhor  and  avoid  any  thing,  than  that  which 
 Diakes  her  pcrfon  more  a  fnare  and  temptation 
 to  other  people  ?  If  lajl^  and  wanton  eyes  are 
 the  death  of  the  Ibul,  can  any  women  think 
 
 them^ 
 
fo  a  Dei/out  and  Holy  Life.      375 
 
 thcmfclves  innocent,  who  with  naked  brcafts, 
 patch'd  faces ,  and  every  ornament  of  drcfs, 
 invite  the  eye  to  offend  ? 
 
 And  as  there  is  no  pretence  for  innocence  in 
 fuch  a  behaviour,  fo  neither  can  they  tell  how 
 to  fet  any  bounds  to  their  guilt.  For  as  they 
 can  never  know  how  much,  or  how  oiten 
 they  have  occafion'd  fin  in  other  people,  fo 
 they  can  never  know  how  much  guilt  will  be 
 placed  to  their  own  account. 
 
 This  one  would  think  fliould  fufficiently 
 deter  every  pious  woman  from  every  thing 
 that  might  render  her  the  occafion  of  loofe 
 paflions  in  other  people. 
 
 St.  ^aulj  fpeaking  of  a  thing  entirely  /;;/^{?- 
 cefitj  reafons  after  this  manner :  Bt^t  take  heedy 
 lefl  by  any  means  this  liberty  of  yours  become  d 
 
 Rumbling-block  to  thofe  that  are  zveak yJnd 
 
 through  thy  knowledge  thy  weak  brother  perijh^ 
 for  who?n  Chr'tfl  died.  But  when  ye  pn  fo  a-* 
 gamfi  the  brethren^  and  zvound  their  weak  con-' 
 Jcience^  ye  Jin  again f  Chri-fl.  Wherefore^  if  meat 
 make  my  brother  to  offend^  I  zvill 
 eat  noflepo  while  the  world  fiandeth^  ^  ^"^f  ^^^ 
 lejl  1 7'/iake  my  brother  to  offend. 
 
 Now  if  this  is  the  fpirit  of  Chriftianity  ;  if 
 it  requires  us  to  abftain  from  things  thus  law- 
 ful, innocent  and  ufeful,  when  there  is  any 
 danger  of  betraying  our  weak  brethren  into 
 any  error  thereby  :  Surely  it  cannot  be  reck- 
 oned too  nice  or  needlefs  a  point  of  conlcience, 
 for  w^omcn  to  avoid  fuch  things,  as  are  neither 
 innocent  nor  ufeful,  but  naturally  tend  to 
 B  b  4  corrupt 
 
37^  ^  Serious  C  A  L  f] 
 
 corrupt  their  own  hearts,  and  raife  ill  paffions 
 in  other  people. 
 
 Surely  every  woman  of  chriftian  piety 
 ought  to  fay,  in  the  fpirit  of  the  Apoftle,  if 
 fatchhig  and  jmint^  or  any  vain  adorning  of  my 
 perfon,  be  a  natural  means  of  making  weak, 
 "unwary  eyes  to  offend,  I  will  renounce  all 
 thefe  arts  as  long  as  I  live,  left  I  fhould 
 make  my  fellow-creatures  to  offend. 
 
 I  Ihall  now  leave  this  fubjeft  of  humltty% 
 having  faid  enough,  as  I  hope;  to  recommend 
 the  neceffity  of  making  it  the  conftant,  chief 
 fubjecl:    of  your  devotion    at    this  hour   of 
 prayer. 
 
 I  have  confider'd  the  nature  and  neceffity  of 
 humility,  and  its  great  importance  to  a  reli- 
 gious life.  J  have  fhewn  you  how  many  dif- 
 ficulties are  formed  againft  it  from  our  natural 
 tempers,  the  fpirit  of  the  world,  and  the  com- 
 nion  education  of  both  fexes. 
 
 Thefe  confiderations  will,  I  hope,  inftrud 
 you  how  to  form  your  prayers  for  it  to  the 
 beft  advantage;  and  teach  you  the  neceffity 
 of  letting  no  day  pafs,  without  a  ferious  ear- 
 neft  application  to  God,  for  the  whole Jplrit  of 
 humility.  Fervently  befeeching  him  to  fill 
 every  part  of  your  foul  with  it,  to  make  it 
 the  ruling,  conftant  habit  of  your  mind,  that 
 you  may  not  only  feel  it,  but  feel  all  your 
 other  tempers  arifing  from  it ;  that  you  may 
 have  no  thoughts,  no  defires,  no  defigns,  but 
 fuch  as  are  the  true  fruits  of  an  humble, 
 meejk.  and  lowly  heart. 
 
 That 
 
to  a  DcvoHt  and  Holy  Life.      377 
 
 That  you  may  always  appear  poor,  and 
 little,  and  mean  in  your  own  eyes,  and  fully 
 content  that  others  Ihould  have  the  lame  opi- 
 nion of  you. 
 
 That  the  whole  coiirfe  of  your  life,  your 
 expence^  your  houfe^  your  drefs^  your  manner 
 of  eatings  drhik'tng^  converjing^  and  doing  eve^ 
 ry  things  may  be  lb  many  continual  proofs  of 
 the  true  unfeigned  humility  of  your  heart. 
 
 That  you  may  look  for  nothing,  claim  no- 
 thing, refent  nothing  ;  that  you  may  go 
 through  all  the  anions  and  accidents  of  life 
 calmly  and  quietly,  as  in  the  prefence  of  God, 
 looking  wholly  unto  him,  afting  wholly  for 
 him;  neither  Iceking  vain  applaufe,  nor  re- 
 fenting  neglefts,  or  affronts,  but  doing  and 
 receiving  every  thing  in  the  meek  and  lowly 
 fpirit  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jcfus 
 Chrift. 
 
 CHAR 
 
578  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 CHAR    XX. 
 
 Recommending  Devotion  at  twelve  o'CIock^  calVd 
 in  Scripture  the  fixth  hour  of  the  day,  This 
 frequency  of  Devotion  equally  dejirahle  by  all 
 orders  of  people.  Univerlai  love  is  here 
 recommended  to  be  the  fubjett  of  prayer  at 
 this  hoar.  Of  inter cejjion^  as  an  act  of  uni-^ 
 verfil  love. 
 
 IT  will  perhaps  be  thought  by  feme  people, 
 that  thefe  hours  of  prayer  come  too  thick ; 
 that  they  can  only  be  oblerv'd  by  people  of 
 great  Icifure,  and  ought  not  to  be  prefs'd  up- 
 on the  generality  of  men,  who  have  the  cares 
 of  families,  trades  and  employments  ^  nor  upon 
 the  gentry^  whofe  (late  ^.nd  figure  in  the  world 
 cannot  admit  of  this  frequency  of  Devotion. 
 And  that  it  is  only  fit  for  Monafleries  and  Nun^ 
 neriesy  or  fuch  people  as  have  no  more  to  do 
 in  the  world  than  they  have. 
 To  this  it  is  anfwer'd, 
 
 F/r/?,  That  this  method  of  Devotion  is  not 
 prefs'd  upon  any  fort  of  people,  as  ahfolutely 
 neccffary^  but  recommended  to  all  people^  as 
 t\\t  befly  tYiQ  happiefiy  and  moA  perfeB  w^iy  o^ 
 life. 
 
 And  if  a  great  and  exemplary  Devotion  is 
 as  much  the  greateft  happinefs  and  perfection 
 
 of 
 
to  a  lDe<vont  and  Holy  Life.      ^j^ 
 
 of  a  Merchant^  a  Soldier^  or  a  man  of  ^naVity^ 
 as  it  is  the  grcateft  happinels  and  perfcftion 
 of  the  moil  refi/d coui-emf  lathe  life,  then  it  is 
 as  proper  to  recomnivnd  it  without  any  abate^ 
 -fiients  to  one  order  of  men,  as  to  another, 
 Becaufe  happinefs  and  perfection  are  of  the 
 lame  worth  and  value  to  all  people. 
 
 The  Gentleman  and  TradeJ'man  may,  and 
 muft  fpend  much  of  their  time  differently 
 from  the  pious  Monk  in  the  chyfler^  or  the 
 contemplative  Hermit  in  the  defart:  But  tlien, 
 as  the  Monk  and  Hermit  lofe  the  ends  of  re- 
 tirement, unlefs  they  make  it  all  ferviceablc 
 to  Devotion ;  io  the  Gentleman  and  Merchant 
 fail  of  the  greateft  ends  of  a  facial  llfe^  and 
 live  to  their  lofs  in  the  world,  vinlefs  Devoti^ 
 on  be  their  chief  and  governing  temper. 
 
 It  is  certainly  very  honejl  and  creditable  for 
 people  to  engage  in  trades  and  employments  '^  it 
 is  reafonable  for  Gentlemen  to  manage  well 
 their  cjiates  znd  families^  and  take  fuch  recrea- 
 tions as  are  proper  to  their  ftate.  But  then 
 every  Gentleman  and  Tradefman  lofes  the 
 greateft  happinefs  of  his  creation,  is  robb'd  of 
 fomething  that  is  greater  than  all  employ- 
 ments, diftinctions  and  pleafures  of  the  world, 
 if  he  does  not  live  more  to  ^lety  and  DevOf 
 fwny  than  to  any  thing  clfe  in  the  world. 
 
 Here  are  therefore  no  excufes  made  for  men 
 Qihiifinefs  2inA  figure  in  the  world.  Flrjl^  Be^? 
 caufe  it  would  be  to  excufe  them  from  that 
 >yhich  is  the  greateft  end  pf  living  j  and  be 
 
 only 
 
5S0  A  Serious  Call 
 
 only  finding  ib  many  realbns  for  making  them 
 lefs  benejicial  to  themlelves,  and  lefs  ferviceable 
 to  God  and  the  world. 
 
 Secondly^  Becaufe  moft  men  of  bufinefs  and 
 figure  engage  too  far  in  worldly  matters ; 
 much  farther  than  the  reafbns  of  human  life, 
 or  the  neceffities  of  the  world  require. 
 
 Merchants  and  Tradefmen^  for  inftance,  are 
 generally  ten  times  farther  engaged  in  bufinefs 
 than  they  need  ;  which  is  fo  far  from  being  a 
 reafonable  exciije  for  their  want  of  time  for 
 Devotion,  that  it  is  their  crhne^  and  muft 
 be  cenfur'd  as  a  blameable  inftance  of  cove- 
 toufnefs  and  ambition^ 
 
 The  Gentry^  and  people  of  Figure ^  either 
 give  themfelves  up  to  State-employ ments^  or  to 
 the  gratifications  of  their  fajfions^  in  a  life  of 
 gaiety  and  debauchery  ;  and  if  theft  things 
 might  be  admitted  as  allowable  avocations 
 from  Devotion,  Devotion  muft  be  reckoned  a 
 poor  circumftance  of  life. 
 
 Unlefs  Gentlemen  can  fhew  that  they  have 
 another  God,  than  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Je- 
 fus  Chrift ;  another  Nature,  than  that  which 
 is  derived  from  Jdam\  another  Religion  than 
 the  Chriftian,  'tis  in  vain  to  plead  their  ftate, 
 and  dignity,  and  pleafures,  as  reafons  for  not 
 preparing  their  Ibuls  for  God,  by  ^Jiriti  and 
 regular  Devotion, 
 
 For  fince  Piety  and  Devotion  are  the  com^ 
 
 iwn  unchangeable  means  of  faving  all  the  fouls 
 
 in.  the  world  that  fliall  be  faved,  there  is  no- 
 
 2.  thing 
 
to  a  Ve^oHt  a  fid  Holy  Life.      g9i 
 
 thing  left  for  the  Gentkfnan^  the  Soldier^  and 
 the  Trade] man ^  but  to  take  care  that  their  le- 
 veral  ftates  be,  by  care  and  watch fulneis,  by 
 meditation  and  prayer,  made  ftates  of  an  ex^ 
 a3  and  folhl  f'lety. 
 
 If  a  Merchant^  having  forbore  from  too 
 great  bufinefs,  that  he  might  quietly  attend 
 on  the  icrvice  of  God,  fhould  therefore  dye 
 worth  twenty  J  inftead  oiffty  thoufand  pounds, 
 could  any  one  lay  that  he  had  miftaken  his 
 callings  or  gone  a  lofer  out  of  the  world  ? 
 
 If  a  Gentleman  fliould  haye  killed  fewer 
 foxes^  been  leis  frequent  at  balJs^  gaming^  and 
 merry-meetlngs^  becaufe  ftated  parts  of  his 
 time  had  been  given  to  rettreynent^  to  medita^ 
 fion  and  devotion^  could  it  be  thought,  that 
 when  he  left  the  world,  he  would  regret  the 
 lofs  of  thofe  hours  that  he  had  given  to  the 
 c^re  and  improvement  of  his  foul  ? 
 
 If  a  Tradefman  by  alpiring  after  Chriftian 
 perfection,  and  retiring  himfelf  often  from 
 his  bufinefs,  fiiould  inftead  of  leaving  his 
 children  fortunes  to  fpend  in  luxury  and  idle^ 
 nefs^  leave  them  to  live  by  their  own  honcft 
 labour ;  could  it  be  faid,  that  he  had  made  a 
 wrong  uje  of  the  world,  becaufe  he  had  ihcwn 
 his  children,  that  he  had  more  regard  to  that 
 which  is  eternal,  than  to  this  which  is  lb  ibqn 
 to  be  at  an  end  ? 
 
 Since  therefore  devotion  is  not  only  the  beft 
 and  moft  defirable  practice  in  a  Cloy  ft  er^  but 
 the  beft  and  moft  defirable  practice  of  men,  as 
 pictt;,  and  in  every  Jl ate  of  life,  they  that  de- 
 
 fire 
 
3S 
 
 A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 lire  to  be  excused  from  it,  becaufe  they  are 
 mtn  oi  figure y  2ind  e/Iates^  and  Z'///?;^^,  are  no 
 \viler  than  thole  that  Ihould  defire  to  be  ex* 
 cus'd  from  health  and  happ'mefs^  becaufe  they 
 'V\'ere  men  oi  jigure  and  eftates. 
 
 I  can*t  fee  why  every  Gentleman^  Merchant^ 
 or  Soldier^  fhould  not  put  thefe  queftions  feri* 
 oufly  to  himfelf : 
 
 What  is  the  beji  thing  for  me  to  intend  and 
 drive  at  in  all  my  anions?  HowJJjalll  do  to  make 
 the  moji  of  human  life  ?  What  ways  jh all  I  wifh 
 that  I  had  taken^  when  I  am  leaving  the  world  ? 
 
 Now  to  be  thus  w^ife,  and  to  make  thus 
 much  ufe  of  our  reafon,  feems  to  be  but  a 
 fmall  and  necejjary  piece  of  wifdom.  For 
 how  can  we  pretend  to  fenfe  and  judgment,  if 
 we  dare  not  ferioufly  confider,  and  anfwer, 
 and  govern  our  lives  by  that  which  fuch  que- 
 ftions require  of  us? 
 
 Shall  a  Nobleman  think  his  birth  too  high  a 
 dignity  to  condeicend  to  fuch  queftions  as 
 thefe?  Or  a  Tradefman  think  his  bufinels  too 
 great,  to  take  any  care  about  himfelf? 
 
 Now  here  is  defir'd  no  more  devotion  in  any 
 one's  life,  than  the  anfwering  thti^few  quejli-^ 
 cnSy  requires. 
 
 Any  devotion  that  is  not  to  the  greater 
 advantage  of  him  that  ufes  it,  than  any  thing 
 that  he  can  do  in  the  room  of  it  5  any  devoti- 
 on that  does  not  procure  an  infinitely 
 greater  good,  than  can  be  got  by  negleding 
 it,  is  freely  yielded  up,  here  is  no  demand  of 
 it. 
 
 But 
 
to  a  Ve^JOiit  and  Holy  Life.       585 
 
 But  if  people  will  live  in  lb  much  ignoranccy 
 as  never  to  put  theie  queftions  to  themiclves, 
 but  pulh  on  a  blind  life  at  all  chances,  in  queft 
 of  they  cion'r  know  what,  nor  why  ;  without 
 ever  confidcring  the  wortli,  or  value,  or  ten- 
 dency of  their  aftions,  without  confidcring 
 what  God,  reajhuj  eternity^  and  their  own 
 happinels  require  of  them  ^  it  is  for  the  ho- 
 nour of  devotion^  that  none  can  negled  it,  but 
 thofe  who  are  thus  inconfiderate,  who  dare 
 not  enquire  after  that  which  is  the  beft,  and 
 moil  worthy  of  their  choice. 
 
 It  is  true,  Claudius ^  you  are  a  man  of  ^- 
 gure  and  eflate^  and  are  to  ad  the  part  of  fuch 
 a  ftation  in  human  life  •   you  are  not  calM  as  ^ 
 Elijah  was  to  be  a  Prophet^  or  as  St.  '^?aul^  to 
 be  an  Apoftle. 
 
 But  will  you  therefore  not  love  yourfelf  ? 
 Will  you  not  leek  and  ftudy  your  own  happi- 
 nefs,  becaufe  you  are  not  caird  to  preach  up 
 the  fame  things  to  other  people  ? 
 
 You  would  think  it  very  abliird,  for  a  maa 
 not  to  value  his  own  healthy  becaufe  he  was 
 not  a  ^hyfician  ;  or  the  prefcrvation  of  his 
 limhs^  becaufe  he  was  not  a  hone-jitter.  Yet 
 it  is  more  abfurd  for  you,  Claudius^  to  ncglefb 
 the  improvement  of  your  foul  in  piety,  be- 
 caufe you  are  not  an  Apoftle,  or  a  Bifhop. 
 
 Confider  this  text  of  Scripture, 
 If  ye  live  after  the  fiejlo,  ye  jlmJl     ^o"^-V"'.i3' 
 dye\    hut    if  through    the  Jprit 
 ye  do  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  hody^    ye  jljall 
 live.     For  cis  many  as  are  led  by  the  Sprit  of 
 
 God, 
 
384.  ^  Serious  C  a  L  t 
 
 God^  they  are  the  fons  of  God,  Do  you  think 
 that  this  Scripture  does  not  equally  relate  ta 
 all  mankind  ?  Can  you  find  any  exception  here 
 for  men  oi  fgiire  and  eftates?  Is  not  ^  jpiri'^ 
 tiial  and  devout  life  here  made  the  common 
 condition,  on  which  all  men  are  to  become 
 fons  of  God  ?  Will  you  leave  hours  of  prayerj 
 and  rules  of  devotion,  to  particular  ftates  of 
 life,  when  nothing  but  the  fame  ipirit  of  de- 
 votion can  lave  you,  or  any  man,  from  eter- 
 nal death  ? 
 
 Confider  again  this  text :    For  we  mujl  all 
 
 appear  before  the  judg^nent-Jeat  of 
 2  Cor.  V.  10.  Qjoylfi^  that  every  one  may  receive 
 the  things  done  in  his  hody^  according  to  that  he 
 hath  done^  whether  it  he  good  or  had.  Now  if 
 your  efiate  would  excufe  you  from  appearing 
 before  this  judgment-feat ;  \i^o\xi  figure  coulcl 
 proteft  you  from  receiving  according  to  your 
 works,  there  would  be  fome  pretence  for  your 
 leaving  devotion  to  other  people.  But  if  you, 
 who  are  now  thus  diftinguifli'd,  muft  then  ap- 
 pear na]i.ed  amongft  common  foulsy  without  any 
 other  diftinftion  from  others,  but  fuch  as  your 
 virtues  or  fins  give  you  ;  does  it  not  as  much 
 concern  you,  as  any  '^rophet^  or  jipofik^  to 
 make  the  befl:  provifion  for  the  belt  rewards  at 
 that  great  day  ? 
 
 Again,  confider  this  dodrine  of  the  Apoftle : 
 
 For  fjoneofusy  that  is,  of  us  Chri- 
 Rom,  XIV.  7,     ftians,  liveth  to  hifnfelf  and  no  man 
 
 dieth  to  himfelj  :  For  whether  we 
 live  J  we  live  unto  the  Lord)   and  whether  we 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      385 
 
 ^ye^  we  dye  tinto  the  Lord.  For  to  this  end 
 Chrift  both  d'ted^  and  rofe^  and  revived^  that  he 
 might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  the 
 living* 
 
 Now  arc  you,  Claudius^  excepted  out  of  the 
 doftrine  of  rhis  text  ?  Will  you,  becaufe  of 
 your  condition^  leave  it  to  any  particular  fort 
 of  people,  to  live  and  dye  unto  Chrift  ?  If  fo, 
 you  muft  leave  it  to  them,  to  be  redeemed  by 
 the  death  and  reiurrcftion  of  Chrift.  For  it 
 is  the  exprefs  doctrine  of  the  text,  that  for 
 this  end  Chrift  dy'd  and  rofe  again,  that  none 
 of  lis  fhould  live  to  himfelf.  'Tis  not  that 
 Priefts,  or  Apottles,  or  Monksy  or  Hermits^ 
 fhould  live  no  longer  to  themfelves  ;  but  that 
 none  of  us^  that  is,  no  Chriftian  of  what  ftate 
 foever,  ftiould  live  unto  himfelf. 
 
 If  therefore  there  be  any  inftances  of  piety, 
 any  rules  of  devotion,  which  you  can  ncgledl, 
 and.  y-et  live  as  truly  unto  Chrift,  as  if  you 
 obferved  them,  this  text  calls  you  to  no  liich 
 devotion.  But  if  you  forlake  fuch  devotion, 
 as  you  yourfelf  know  is  expected  from  feme 
 particular  forts  of  people ;  fuch  devotion  as 
 you  know  becomes  people  that  live  wholly 
 unto  Chrift,  that  afpire  after  great  piety  ;  if 
 ycu  negled  luch  devotion  for  any  worldly  con-^ 
 jidcration^  that  you  may  live  more  to  your 
 own  temper  and  tafle^  more  to  the  fafhions 
 and  ways  of  the  world,  you  forlake  the  terms 
 on  which  all  Chriftians  are  to  receive  the  be- 
 aefit  of  Chrift's  death  and  refurreftion. 
 
 C  c  Obferve 
 
58^  ^  Serious   Call 
 
 Obferve  farther,  how  the  fame  dodrine  13 
 taught  by  St.  '^Peter ;  yls  he  which 
 hath  called  you  is  holy^  jo  he  ye  holy 
 in  all  manner  of  converjlition. 
 
 If  therefore,  ClaudinSj  you  are  one  of  thofe 
 that  are  here  called,  you  fee  what  it  is  that  you 
 are  called  to.  It  is  not  to  have  fo  much  reli- 
 gion as  fuits  with  your  temper,  your  bufinefs, 
 or  your  pleafures ;  it  is  not  to  a  particular  fort 
 of  piety,  that  may  be  fufRcient  for  Gentle- 
 men of  figure  and  eftates;  but  it  is,^/y?,  tobe 
 holy^  as  he  which  hath  called  yon  is  holy  ;  Je^ 
 condfyy  it  is  to  be  thru  holy  in  all  manner  of 
 converfation ;  that  is,  to  carry  this  fpirit  and 
 degree  of  holinefs  into  every  part,  and  thro' 
 the  whole  form  of  your  life. 
 
 And  the  reafon  the  Apoftle  immediately 
 gives,  why  this  fpirit  of  holinefs  muft  be  the 
 common  fpirit  of  Chriflians,  as  fuch,  is  very 
 affeding,  and  fuch  as  equally  calls  upon  all 
 forts  of  Chriflians.  Forafmuch  as  ye  knoWj 
 fays  he,  that  ye  were  not  redeemed  with  corrupt 
 tihle  things^  as  Jiher  and  goldy  from  your  vain 
 
 converfation but  with  the  precious  blood  of 
 
 Chriji,  6Cc. 
 
 As  if  he  had  faid,  Forafmuch  as  ye  fcriow 
 ye  were  made  capable  of  this  flate  of  holinefs, 
 enter'd  into  a  fociety  with  Chrifl,  and  made 
 heirs  of  his  glory,  not  by  any  human  means, 
 but  by  fuch  a  myfterious  inflance  of  love,  as 
 infinitely  exceeds  every  thing  that  can  be 
 thought  of  in  this  world ;  fince  God  has  re- 
 deemed you  to  himfelf,  and  your  own  happi- 
 
 nefs 
 
to  a  Devout  a7id  Holy  Life.        3S7 
 
 iiefs  at  fo  great  a  prke^  how  bale  and  fhame- 
 fal  muft  it  be,  if  you  don't  hcncclbith  devote 
 yourfelves  wholly  to  the  glory  of  God,  and 
 become  holy,  as  he  who  hath  called  you  is 
 holy? 
 
 If  therefore,  Claud} as ^  you  confider  jouvjh' 
 gurc  and  eflate ;  or  if,  in  the  words  of  the 
 text,  you  confider  your  gold  and  ftlver^  and 
 the  corrapuhle  things  of  this  life,-  as  any  rea- 
 fon  why  ycu  may  live  to  your  own  humour 
 and  fancy,  why  you  may  negled  a  life  of  ftri£t 
 piety  and  great  devotion ;  if  you  think  any 
 thing  in  the  world  can  be  an  excufe  for  your 
 not  imitating  the  holinefs  of  Chrift  in  the 
 whole  courfc  ^inAform  of  your  life,  you  make 
 yourfelf  as  guilty,  as  if  you  fliould  negled  the 
 holinefs  of  Chriftianity  for  the  fake  of  pcking 
 Jiraws, 
 
 For  the  greatnefs  of  this  new  ftate  of  life 
 to  which  we  are  called  in  Chrift  Jefus,  to  be 
 for  ever  as  the  Angels  of  God  in  heaven,  and 
 the  greatnels  of  the  price  by  which  wx  are 
 made  capable  of  this  ftate  of  glory,  has  turn- 
 ed every  thing  that  is  worldly^  temporal^  and 
 corruptible  into  an  equal  Uttlenefs  \  and  made 
 it  as  great  bafenefs  and  folly,  as  great  a  con- 
 tempt of  the  blood  of  Chrift,  to  negled  any 
 degrees  of  holinefs,  becaufe  you  are  a  man  of 
 fome  ejlate  and  quality^  as  it  would  be  to  ncg- 
 left  it,  becaule  you  had  a  fancy  to  pick  Jiraws. 
 
 Again  ;  the  lame  Apoftle  Ikith, 
 Know  ye  72ot^  that  your  body  is  the     \^^^'^^'^^' 
 temple  of  the  Holy  Ghofi  which  is  in^ 
 
 C  c  2  you^ 
 
5S8  A  SerioHs  Call 
 
 roti^  and  ye  are  not  your  own  ?  For  ye  are  bought 
 with  a  price ;  therefore  glorify  God  in  your  bo^ 
 dy^  and  in  your  jpirit^  zvhieh  are  God's. 
 
 How  poorly  therefore,  Claudius^  have  you 
 read  the  Scripture,  how  little  do  you  know  of 
 Chriftianity,  if  you  can  yet  talk  of  your  efiate 
 and  condition^  as  a  pretence  for  a  freer  kind  of 
 life? 
 
 Are  you  any  more  your  own^  than  he  that 
 has  no  efcate  or  dignity  in  the  world  ?  Muft 
 mean  and  little  people  preferve  their  bodies  as 
 temples  of  the  Holy  Ghoft,  by  watching^  fa  ft-- 
 higy  znd  prayer:^  but  may  you  indulge  yours 
 in  idlenefs^  in  lufis  ?inA  fenfuality ^  becaufe  you 
 have  [0  much  rent^  or  liich  a  title  of  diftindi- 
 on  ?  How  poor  and  ignorant  are  fuch  thoughts 
 as  thefe  ? 
 
 And  yet  you  muft  either  think  thus,  or  elfe 
 acknowledge,  that  the  holinefs  of  Saints^  ^ro^ 
 fhetSj  and  Jpoflles^  is  the  holinefs  that  you 
 are  to  labour  after  with  all  the  diligence  and 
 care  that  you  can. 
 
 And  if  you  leave  it  to  others,  to  live  in 
 fuch  piety  and  devotion,  in  fuch  felf-denial, 
 humility  and  temperance,  as  may  render  them 
 able  to  glorify  God  in  their  body,  and  in  their 
 fpirit ;  you  muft  leave  it  to  them  alfo,  to  have 
 the  benefit  of  the  blood  of  Chrift. 
 
 Again;   the  Apoftle  faith,   Tou  know  how 
 
 ^,  „  ..  we  exhorted^  comforted,  and  charge 
 
 1  Thefl.ii.ii.        ,  r   '^      ^1   ^  /^ 
 
 ed  every  one  oj  you^  that  you  would 
 
 walk  worthy  of  Gody  who  hath  called  you  to  his 
 
 kingdom  and  glory. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        58^^ 
 
 You  perhaps,  Chuidius^  have  often  heard 
 thefe  words,  without  ever  thinking  how  much 
 they  required  of  you.  And  yet  you  can't  con- 
 fider  them,  without  perceiving  to  what  an 
 eminent  ftate  of  holinefs  they  call  you. 
 
 For  how  can  the  holinefs  of  the  Chriftian 
 life  be  i^t  before  you  in  higher  terms,  than 
 when  it  is  reprelcntcd  to  you,  as  walking  zvor-- 
 thy  oj  God?  Can  you  think  of  any  abatements 
 of  virtue,  any  negleds  of  Devotion,  that  are 
 well  confiftent  with  a  life,  that  is  to  be  made 
 worthy  of  God  ?  Can  you  fuppofe  that  any 
 man  walks  in  this  manner,  but  he  that  watches 
 over  all  his  fteps  \  and  confiders  how  every 
 thing  he  does,  may  be  done  in  the  fpirit  of 
 holinefs?  And  yet  as  high  as  thefe  expreHi- 
 ons  carry  this  holinefs,  it  is  here  plainly  made 
 the  neceffary  holinefs  of  all  Chriftians.  For 
 the  Apoftle  does  not  here  exhort  his  fellow 
 ApoJiJes  and  Satnts  to  this  holineis,  but  he 
 commands  all  Chriftians  to  endeavour  after  it , 
 We  charged^  fays  he,  every  one  of  yoa^  that  you 
 would  walk  worthy  of  Godj  who  hath  called  yoi^ 
 to  his  klHgdo?7i  a?id  glory. 
 
 Again,  St.  ^ettr  laith,  If  any  man  fpeaky 
 
 let  him  [peak  as  the  oracles  of  Godi 
 
 T  •    -a         7  *   7  •       J    •/      iPct.  iv.  II- 
 
 tj  any  man  mtnt/ter^  let  htm  do  it^ 
 
 as  of  the  ability  that  God  giveth  ;    that   God 
 
 in  all  things  may  he  glorify' d  in  J  ejus  Chrijl. 
 
 Do  you  not  here,  Claudius^  plainly  perceive 
 
 your  high  calling?    Is  he  that  fpeaketh,    to 
 
 have  inch  regard  to  his  words,  that  he  appear 
 
 to  fpeak  as  by  the  direction  of  God?  Is  he 
 
 C  c  3  '  that 
 
590  A  SenoHs  Call 
 
 that  givcth,  to  take  care  that  he  Co  giveth, 
 that  what  he  difpofcth  of  may  appear  to  be  a 
 gift  that  he  hath  of  God  ?  And  is  all  this  to 
 be  done  ,  that  God  may  be  glorify'd  in  all 
 things? 
 
 Muft  it  not  then  be  faid,  Has  any  man  No- 
 biUfYj  dignity  of  State,  ox  jigure  in  the  world? 
 let  him  lo  ufe  his  NohlUty^  ox  Jigure  of  life, 
 that  it  may  appear  he  ufes  thefe  as  the  gifts  of 
 God,  for  the  greater  fetting  forth  of  his  Glo- 
 ry.   Is  there  now,  Claudius^  any  thing  forc'd, 
 or  far-fctch'd  in  this  conclufion  ?    Is  it  not  the 
 plain  fenfe  of  the  words,  that  every  thing  in 
 life  is  to  be  made  a  matter  of  holinefs  unto 
 God  ?   If  \o^  then  your  efjate  and  dig?nty  is 
 ib  far  from  excufing  you  from  great  piety  and 
 holinefs  of  life,  that  it  lays  you  under  a  great- 
 er neceility   of  living  more   to  the  glory  of 
 God,  becaufe  you  have  more  of  his  gifts  that 
 may  be  made  ferviceable  to  it. 
 
 For  people  therefore  oi  jigure^  or  hujjnefsy 
 or  dignity  in  the  world,  to  leave  great  fiety^ 
 and  eralnent  devotion  to  any  particular  orders  of 
 men,  or  fuch  as  they  think  have  little  elfe  to 
 do  in  the  world,  is  to  leave  the  Icingdom  of 
 God  to  them. 
 
 For  it  is  the  very  end  of  Chriftianity  to  re-* 
 deem  all  orders  of  men  into  one  holy  Ibciety, 
 that  rich  and  poor,  high  and  low,  mafters 
 and  fervants,  may  in  one  and  the  fame  Ipirit 
 of  piety,  become  a  chofen  generation^  a  royal 
 '^^rlejlhoody  an  holy  Nation^  a  peculiar  ^eople^ 
 
 that 
 
to  a  T)e'vout  and  Holy  Life.        gp  i 
 
 that  are  to  Jhew  forth  the  fralfes  of  h'tm^  who 
 
 hath  called  thera  out  of  darknej}^ 
 
 into  his  marvellous  light.  ^    ^^'  "'  ^* 
 
 Thus  much  being  faid  to  fhew,  that  great 
 Devotion  and  Holinels  is  not  to  be  left  to  any- 
 particular  fort  of  people,  but  to  be  the  coni^ 
 vionfpirit  of  all  that  defire  to  live  up  to  the 
 terms  of  common  Chriftianity ;  I  now  pro- 
 ceed to  confidcr  the  nature  and  neceility  of 
 univerjal  love^  .which  is  here  recommended  to 
 be  the  fubjed  of  your  Devotion  at  this  hour. 
 You  are  here  alfo  call'd  to  lnterceffio7i^  as  the 
 moft  proper  exercife  to  raife  and  preferve  that 
 love. 
 
 By  interceliion  is  meant  a  praying  to  God, 
 and  interceding  with  him  for  our  fellow-crea- 
 tures. 
 
 Our  blefled  Lord  hath  recommended  his 
 love  to  us,  as  the  pattern  and  example  of  our 
 love  to  one  another.  As  therefore  he  is  con- 
 tinually making  interceffion  for  us  all ,  ^o 
 ought  we  to  intercede  and  pray  for  one  ano- 
 ther. 
 
 A  new  commandment^  faith  he,  I  give  unto 
 yoUy  that  ye  love  one  another^  as  I  have  loved 
 you.  By  this  fh all  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my 
 Difciples^  if  fe  love  one  another. 
 
 The  newnefs  of  this  precept  did  not  confift 
 in  this,  that  men  were  commanded  to  love 
 one  another;  for  this  was  an  old  precept, 
 both  of  the  law  of  Mofes  ^  and  of  nature. 
 But  it  was  new  in  this  refped,  that  it  was  to 
 imitate  a  new,  and  till  then  unheard-of  ex- 
 
 C  c  4  ample 
 
5^2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 ample  of  love ;  it  was  to  love  one  another,  as 
 Chrifl:  had  loved  us. 
 
 And  if  .  len  are  to  know  that  we  are  Difci.- 
 ples  of  Cnrift,  by  thus  .loving  one  another 
 according  to  his  new  example  of  love,  then  it 
 is  certain^  that  if  we  are  void  of  this  love,  we 
 make  it  as  plainly  known  unto  men,  that  we 
 are  none  of  his  Difciples. 
 
 There  is  no  principle  of  the  heart  that  is 
 more  acceptable  to  God,  than  an  nmverjal  fer- 
 vent love  to  all  mankind,  wljhtng  and  praying 
 for  their  happinefs ;  becaufe  there  is  no  prin- 
 ciple of  the  heart  that  makes  us  more  like 
 God,  who  is  love  and  goodnefs  it  fclf,  and 
 created  all  beings  for  their  enjoyment  of  hap- 
 pinefs. 
 
 The  greateft  Idea  that  we  can  frame  of  God 
 is,  when  we  conceive  him  to  be  a  Being  of  in- 
 finite love  and  goodnefs  ;  ufing  an  infinite  wif- 
 dom  and  power  for  the  common  good  and  hap- 
 pinefs of  all  his  creatures. 
 
 The  highelt  notion  therefore,  that  we  can 
 form  of  man  is,  when  we  conceive  him  as  like 
 to  God  in  this  refped  as  he  can  be;  ufing  all  his 
 finite  faculties,  whether  of  wifdom,  power, 
 or  prayers,  for  the  common  good  of  all  his 
 fellow-creatures:  Heartily  defiring  they  may 
 have  all  the  happinefs  they  are  capable  of, 
 and  as  many  benefits  and  affiftances  from  him, 
 as  his  ftate  and  condition  in  the  world  will 
 j)ermit  him  to  give  them. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  what  a  hafenefs  and 
 tmqiiity  is  there  in  all  inftances  of  hatredy  en-- 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      393 
 
 vyy  fpgJ^t  and  ill-wUl'^  if  we  confidcr,  that 
 every  inltance  of  them  is  fo  far  ading  in  oppo-- 
 Jition  to  God,  and  intending  vnjchicf  and 
 harfn  to  thofe  creatures,  which  God  favours^ 
 and  frouBsy  and  preftrves^  in  order  to  their 
 Jiappinefs  ?  An  ilUnatur'd  man  amongft  God's 
 creatures,  is  the  vao^  perv erf e  creiizwxc  in  the 
 world,  acting  contrary  to  that  love^  by  which 
 himic] f  J}i/?j7j!j\,  and  which  alone  gives  lubfi- 
 ftence  to  all  that  variety  of  beings,  that  enjoy 
 life  in  any  part  of  the  creation. 
 
 IVhatfoever  ye  'would  that  men  JljouJd  do  unto 
 you^  even  Jo  do  unto  them. 
 
 Now  though  this  is  a  Doctrine  of  ^nci  ju- 
 Jii^e^  yet  it  is  only  an  un'werfal  hve  that  can 
 comply  with  it.  For  as  love  is  the  meujure  of 
 our  acting  towards  our  fclves,  fo  we  can  never 
 aft  in  the  fame  manner  towards  other  people, 
 till  we  look  upon  them  w^ith  that  love  with 
 which  we  look  upon  our  ielves. 
 
 As  we  have  no  degrees  of  Ipight,  or  envy, 
 or  ill-will  to  our  felvcs,  fo  we  cannot  be  dil- 
 pos'd  towards  others  as  we  are  towards  our 
 Ielves,  'till  we  unherjally  renounce  all  inftan- 
 ces  of  fpight,  and  envy,  and  ill-will,  even  in 
 Xhtfmalle/i  degrees. 
 
 If  we  had  any  imperfection  in  our  eyes  ^ 
 that  made  us  fee  any  one  thing  wrong,  for  the 
 fame  reafon  they  would  Ihew  us  an  hundred 
 things  wrong. 
 
 So  if  we  have  any  temper   of   our   hearts, 
 
 that  makes  us  envious,  or  fpightful,  or  ill- 
 
 natur'd  towards  afiy  one  man,  the  lame  tem- 
 
 I  per 
 
5P4  ^  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 per  will  make  us  envious,  and  Ipightful,  and 
 ill-natur'd  towards  a  great  many  more. 
 
 If  therefore  we  defire  this  divine  virtue  of 
 love,  we  muft  exercife  and  pradife  our  hearts 
 in  the  love  of  a/lj  becaufe  it  is  not  Chrlftian 
 love,  till  it  is  the  love  of  all. 
 
 If  a  man  could  keep  this  whole  law  of  love, 
 and  yet  offend  in  one  pointy  he  would  be  guil- 
 ty of  all.  For  as  one  allowed  inftance  of  inju- 
 ftice  deftroys  the  juftice  of  all  our  other  acli- 
 ons,  fo  one  allow'd  initance  of  envy,  fpight, 
 and  ill-will,  renders  all  our  other  afts  of  be- 
 nevolence and  affedion  nothing  worth. 
 
 A£l:s  of  love  that  proceed  not  from  a  princi- 
 ple of  umverjal  love^  are  but  like  ads  of  ju- 
 llice,  that  proceed  from  a  heart  not  dilpos'd  to 
 unherfal  juftke, 
 
 A  love  which  is  not  univerfal,  may  indeed 
 hr^ve  tendernefs  znA-affeBmi^  but  it  hath  no- 
 thing of  rlghteoujhefs  or  ficty  in  it;  it  is  but 
 humour,  and  temper,  or  intereft,  or  fuch  a 
 love  as  ^Tublicans  and  Heathens  pradife. 
 
 All  particular  envies  2indfpighfSy  are  as  plain 
 departures  from  the  fpirit  of  Chriftianity,  as 
 any  particular  acls  of  injuftice.  For  it  is  as 
 much  a  law  of  Chrift,  to  treat  every  body  as 
 your  neighbour^  and  to  love  your  neighbour  as 
 your  Jelj\  as  'tis  a  law  of  Chriftianity,  to  ab- 
 ftain  from  theft. 
 
 Now  the  nobleft  motive  to  this  univerfal 
 tendernefs  and  alFtction  ,  is  founded  in  this 
 Doctrine,  God  is  love^  and  he  that  dwelleth  in 
 love^  dwelleth  in  God. 
 
 Who 
 
to  a  Ve^onf  and  Holy  Life.  595 
 
 Who  therefore,  whofc  heart  has  any  ten- 
 dency towards  God,  would  not  aipire  after 
 this  divine  temper,  which  lb  changes  and  ex- 
 alts our  nature  into  an  union  with  him  ? 
 
 How  fhould  we  rejoice  in  the  exercife  and 
 praftice  of  this  love ,  which  lb  often  as  we 
 feel  it,  is  fo  often  an  alTurance  to  us,  that 
 God  is  in  us,  that  we  ad:  according  to  his 
 fpirit,  who  is  love  it  lelf  ?  But  we  muft  ob- 
 ferve,  that  love  has  then  only  this  migh- 
 ty power  of  uniting  us  to  God,  when  it  is  lb 
 fnre  and  tmiverfal^  as  to  imitate  that  love, 
 which  God  beareth  to  all  his  creatures. 
 
 God  willeth  the  happinefs  of  all  beings, 
 though  it  is  no  happinels  to  himfelf.  There- 
 fore we  muft  defire  the  happinels  of  all  be- 
 ings, though  no  happinels  cometh  to  us  from 
 it. 
 
 God  equally  delighteth  in  the  perfeftions  of 
 all  his  creatures,  therefore  we  fhould  rejoice  in 
 thofe  perfeftions,  where-ever  we  fee  them, 
 and  be  as  glad  to  have  other  people  perfect 
 as  our  felves. 
 
 As  God  forgiveth  all,  and  giveth  Grace  to 
 all,  fo  we  Ihould  forgive  all  thofe  injuries  and 
 affronts  which  we  receive  from  others,  and  do 
 all  the  good  that  wx  can  to  them. 
 
 God  almighty,  befides  his  own  great  exam- 
 ple of  love,  w^hich  ought  to  draw  all  his  crea- 
 tures after  it,  has  fo  provided  for  us,  and 
 made  our  happinefs  fo  common  to  us  all,  that 
 we  have  no  occafion  to  envy  or  hate  one  ano- 
 tlier^ 
 
 For 
 
35)^ 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 For  we  cannot  ftand  in  one  anothcrs  way, 
 or  by  enjoying  any  particular  good,  keep 
 another  from  his  full  fharc  of  it. 
 
 As  we  cannot  be  happy,  but  in  the  enjoy- 
 ment of  God,  fo  we  cannot  rival,  or  rob  one 
 another  of  this  happincfs. 
 
 And  as  to  other  things,  the  enjoyments  and 
 projperltjes  of  this  life,  they  are  fo  little  in 
 themfelves,  fo  foreign  to  our  happinefs,  and, 
 generally  fpeaking,  fo  contrary  to  that  which , 
 they  appear  to  be,  that  they  are  no  foundati- 
 on for  envy,  or  fpight,  or  hatred. 
 
 How  filly  would  it  be  to  envy  a  man,  that 
 was  drinking  poifon  out  0^2,  golden  cup  ?  And 
 yet  who  can  fay,  that  he  is  ading  wifer  than 
 thus ,  when  he  is  envying  any  inltance  of 
 worldly  greatnefs? 
 
 How  xn-Sinj  f Clint s  has  adverfity  fent  to  Hea- 
 ven? And  how  many  poor  finners  has  prol- 
 perity  plung'd  into  everlafting  milery  ?  A  man 
 feems  then  to  be  in  the  moll  glorious  ftate, 
 when  he  has  conquered,  difgrac'd,  and  hum- 
 bled his  enemy  ;  though  it  may  be,  that  fame 
 conqueft  has  iav'd  his  adverfary,  and  undone 
 himfelf. 
 
 This  man  had  perhaps  never  been  debauched, 
 but  for  his  fortune  and  advancement ;  that  had 
 never  been  pious,  but  through  his  foverty  and 
 difgrace. 
 
 She  that  is  envy'd  for  her  beauty,  may  per- 
 chance owe  all  her  fmfery  to  it;  ?iX\^  another 
 may  be  for  ever  happy,  for  having  had  no  ad- 
 mirers of  her  per/on^ 
 
 One 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       397 
 
 One  man  fucceeds  in  every  thing,  and  fo 
 lofcs  all:  Another  meets  with  nothing  but 
 crofles  and  difappointmentSj  and  thereby  gains 
 more  than  all  the  world  is  worth. 
 
 This  Clergyman  may  be  undone  by  his  be- 
 ing made  a  B'lfJjop ;  and  that  may  lave  both 
 himielf  and  others,  by  being  fix'd  to  his  firft 
 poor  vkaridge. 
 
 How  envy'd  was  Alexander  when  conquer- 
 ing the  world,  he  built  towns^  let  up  his  Jfa- 
 tues^  and  left  marks  of  his  glory  in  fo  many 
 kingdoms ! 
 
 And  how  defpis'd  was  the  poor  preacher 
 St.  ^aul  when  he  was  beaten  with  rods !  And 
 yet  how  ftrangcly  was  the  world  miftaken  in 
 their  judgment !  How  much  to  be  envy'd  was 
 St.  ^aulj  How  much  to  be  pity'd  was  Alex- 
 ander ! 
 
 Thefe  few  reflexions  fiifficiently  {hew  us, 
 that  the  different  conditions  of  this  life  have 
 nothing  in  them  to  excite  our  uneafy  pafllons, 
 nothing  that  can  reafonably  interrupt  our 
 love  and  affedion  to  one  another. 
 
 To  proceed  now  to  another  motive  to  this 
 univerj'al  love. 
 
 Our  power  of  doing  external  aBs  of  love 
 and  goodnefs,  is  often  very  narrow  and  rc- 
 ftrain'd.  There  are,  it  may  be,  but  few  peo- 
 ple to  whom  we  can  contribute  any  worldly 
 relief. 
 
 But  though  our  outward  means  of  doing 
 good  are  often  thus  limited,  yet  if  our  heaits 
 are  but  full  of  love  and  goodnefs^  wc  get  as 
 
 it 
 
598  A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 it  were  an  infinite  power  ^  becaule  God  will 
 attribute  to  us  thofe  good  works,  thole  ads  of 
 love,  and  tender  charities,  which  we  fincerely 
 defir'd,  and  would  gladly  have  performed,  had 
 it  been  in  our  power. 
 
 You  cannot  heal  all  the  Jrck^  relieve  all  the 
 foor ;  you  cannot  comfort  all  in  diftrefs,  nor 
 be  a  father  to  all  the  fatherlefs.  You  cannot,  it 
 may  be,  deliver  many  from  their  misfortunes, 
 or  teach  them  to  find  comfort  in  God. 
 
 But  if  there  is  a  love  and  tendernefs  in  your 
 heart,  that  delights  in  thele  good  works,  ^nd  ex- 
 cites you  to  do  all  that  you  can  :  If  your  love 
 has  no  hounds^  but  continually  wijhes  and  frays 
 for  the  relief  and  happinels  of  all  that  are  in 
 diftrefs,  you  will  be  received  by  God  as  a  be- 
 nefaftor  to  thofe,  who  have  had  nothing  from 
 you  but  your  good  willj  and  tender  affections. 
 
 You  cannot  build  hofpitals  for  the  incurable'^ 
 you  cannot  ereft  monaflerles  for  the  education 
 of  perfons  in  holy  pUtade^  continual  prayer 
 and  7nort\jicat'ion\  but  if  you  join  in  your 
 heart  with  thofe  that  do,  and  thank  God  for 
 their  pious  defigns  ;  if  you  are  a  friend  to  thefe 
 great  friends  to  mankind,  and  rejoice  in  their 
 eminent  virtues,  you  will  be  received  by  God 
 as  a  fharer  of  fuch  good  works  as,  though  they 
 had  none  of  your  hands^  yet  had  all  your 
 heart. 
 
 This  confideration  furely  is  fufficicnt  to 
 make  us  look  to,  and  watch  over  our  hearts 
 with  all  diligence  ;  to  ftudy  the  improvement 
 of  our  inward  tempers^  aud  alpire  after  every 
 
 height 
 
to  a  T)e^out  and  Holy  Life.  3^9 
 
 height  and  perfedion  of  a  loving,  charitable, 
 and  benevolent  mind. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  we  may  hence 
 learn  the  great  evil  and  miichicf  of  all  wrong 
 turns  of  mind,  of  efivy^  Jp'^&^^f  hatred^  and 
 ill'wUL  For  if  the  goodneis  of  our  hearts 
 will  entitle  us  to  the  reward  of  good  actions, 
 which  we  never  performed  \  it  is  certain  that 
 the  badnefs  of  our  hearts,  our  envy,  ill-na- 
 ture, and  hatred,  will  bring  us  under  the 
 guilt  of  adions  that  we  have  never  commit- 
 ted. 
 
 As  he  that  lufteth  after  a  woman  Ihall  be 
 reckoned  an  adulterer,  though  he  has  only 
 committed  the  crime  in  his  heart  \  lb  the  ma- 
 licious, Ipightful,  ill-natur'd  man,  that  only 
 fecretly  rejoices  at  evil,  fliall  be  reckoned  a  mur~ 
 derer^  though  he  has  fhed  no  blood. 
 
 Since  therefore  our  hearts,  which  are  always 
 naked  and  open  to  the  eyes  of  God,  givefuch 
 an  exceeding  extent  and  increafe  eitlier  to  our 
 virtues  or  vices,  it  is  our  heji  and  greateji  bu- 
 finels  to  govern  the  motions  of  our  hearts,  to 
 watch,  corred,  and  improve  the  inward  ftate 
 and  temper  of  our  fouls. 
 
 Now  there  is  nothing  that  ib  much  exalts 
 our  fouls,  as  this  heavenly  love ;  it  cleanies 
 and  purifies  like  a  holy  fire,  and  all  ill  tem- 
 pers fall  away  before  it.  It  makes  room  for 
 all  virtues,  and  carries  them  to  their  grcatcll 
 height.  Every  thing  that  is  good  and  holy 
 grows  out  of  it,  and  it  becomes  a  continual 
 fource  of  all  holy  defires,  and  pious  practices. 
 
 By 
 
4  DO  A  Serious  Call 
 
 By  love,  I  don't  mean  any  natural  tendernefs^ 
 which  is  more  or  Icfs  in  people,  according  to 
 their  conftitutions  \  but  I  mean  a  larger  frin^ 
 Ctple  of  the  foul,  founded  in  reafofi  and  pety^ 
 which  makes  us  tender,  kind,  and  benevolent 
 to  all  our  fellow-creatures,  as  creatures  of  God, 
 and  for  his  fake. 
 
 It  is  this  love  that  loves  all  things  in  God, 
 as  his  creatures,  as  the  images  of  his  power,  as 
 the  creatures  of  his  goodnefs,  as  parts  of  his 
 family,  as  members  of  his  fociety,  that  be- 
 comes a  holy  principle  of  all  great  and  good 
 actions. 
 
 The  love  therefore  of  our  neighbour  is  only 
 a  branch  of  our  love  to  God.  For  when  we 
 love  God  with  all  our  hearts,  and  with  all  our 
 fouls,  and  with  all  our  ftrength,  we  Ihall  ne- 
 celTarily  love  thofe  beings  that  are  lb  nearly 
 related  to  God,  that  have  every  thing  from 
 him,  and  are  created  by  him,  to  be  objeds  of 
 his  own  eternal  love.  If  I  hate  or  defpife 
 any  one  man  in  the  world,  I  hate  Ibmething 
 that  God  cannot  hate,  and  defpife  that  wliich 
 he  loi^es. 
 
 And  can  I  think  that  I  love  God  with  all 
 my  heart,  whilst  I  hate  that  which  belongs 
 only  to  God,  which  has  no  other  mafter  but 
 him,  which  bears  \iVi  image,  is  part  of  his 
 family,  and  exifts  only  by  the  continuance  of 
 his  love  towards  it  ? 
 
 It  was  the  impoffibility  of  this  that  made 
 St.  John  fay,  That  ij  any  man  faith ^  he  loveth 
 Gody  and  hateth  his  brother ^^  he  is  a  liar. 
 
 Thefe 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      401 
 
 Thefe  reafons  fufRcicntly  fhcw  us,  that  no 
 love  is  holy  J  or  rcligioiiSy  till  it  becomes  r/;;/- 
 verfciL 
 
 For  if  Religion  requires  me  to  love  all  per- 
 ibns,  as  God's  creatures,  that  belong  to  him, 
 that  bear  his  image,  enjoy  his  protedion,  and 
 make  parts  of  his  family  and  houfhold  ^  if 
 thefe  are  the  great  and  neceflary  rcalbns  why 
 I  fliould  live  in  love  and  friendfhip  with  any 
 one  man  in  the  world,  they  are  the  fame 
 great  and  neceflary  rcafons  why  I  fliou]d  live 
 in  love  and  friendfhip  with  every  man  in  the 
 world ;  and  confequently  I  offend  againft  all 
 thefe  reafonsy  and  break  through  all  thefe  ties 
 and  ohJigaUonSy  whenever  I  want  love  towards 
 any  one  man.  The  fin  therefore  of  hating  or 
 defpifing  any  one  man,  is  like  the  fin  of  ha- 
 ting all  God's  creation ;  and  the  neceflity  of 
 loving  any  one  man,  is  the  fame  neceflity  of 
 loving  every  man  in  the  world.  And  though 
 many  people  may  appear  to  us  ever  fo  finful, 
 odious,  or  extravagant  in  their  conduct,  we 
 mufl:  never  look  upon  that  as  the  leafl:  motive 
 for  any  contempt  or  difregard  of  them ;  but 
 look  upon  them  w  ith  the  greater  compaflion, 
 as  being  in  the  moft  pitiable  condition  that 
 can  be. 
 
 As  it  was  the  Sins  of  the  World,  that  made 
 the  Son  of  God  become  a  compaflionate,  fuC- 
 fering  Advocate  for  all  mankind  •  ^o  no  one  is 
 of  the  Spirit  of  Chrift,  but  he  that  has  the 
 titmofi  compajfton  for  finners.  Nor  is  there  any 
 greater  fign  of  your  own  perfection^  than  when 
 
 D  d  you 
 
/^on  A  Serious  Call 
 
 you  find  yourfelf  all  love  and  compaffion  to- 
 wards them  that  are  very  weak  and  defective. 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  you  have  never  lefs 
 realbn  to  be  pleas'd  with  yourfelf,  than  when, 
 you  find  yourfelf  moll  angry  and  offended  at 
 the  behaviour  of  others.  All  fin  is  certainly 
 to  be  hated  and  abhorred  where-ever  it  is  ^  but 
 then  we  muft  fet  ourfelves  againlt  fin,  as  we 
 do  againft  Jicknefs  and  d'lfeafes^  by  fliewing 
 ourfelves  tender  and  compaffionate  to  Xh.^  Rch 
 and  dlfeafed. 
 
 All  other  hatred  of  fin,  which  does  not  fill 
 the  heart  with  the  fiftefl^  tenderejl  affections 
 towards  perfons  miferable  in  it,  is  the  fervant 
 of  fin  at  the  fame  time  that  it  feems  to  be 
 hating  it. 
 
 And  there  is  no  temper  which  even  good 
 men  ought  more  carefully  to  watch  and  guard 
 againft  than  this.  For  it  is  a  temper  that 
 lurks  and  hides  itfelf  under  the  cover  of  many 
 virtues,  and  by  being  unfufpeded  does  the 
 jnore  mifchief. 
 
 A  man  naturally  fancies,  that  it  is  his  own 
 exceeding  love  of  virtue  that  makes  him  not 
 able  to  bear  with  thofe  that  w^ant  it.  And 
 when  he  abhors  one  man,  deffifes  another,  and 
 can't  bear  the  name  of  a  third,  he  fuppofes  it 
 all  to  be  a  proof  of  his  own  high  Jhife  of  vir- 
 tue, ^Lwdipifj  hatred  o^  ^vs\. 
 
 And  yet  one  would  think,  that  a  man 
 needed  no  other  cure  for  this  temper,  than 
 this  one  refledion : 
 
 That 
 
to  a  Devout  ami  Holy  Life.     405 
 
 That  if  this  had  been  the  Spirit  of  the  Son 
 of  God,  if  he  had  hated  fin  in  th/s  mamier^ 
 there  had  been  no  redemption  of  the  World  : 
 That  if  God  had  hated  finners  in  this 
 manner  day  and  night,  tlie  world  itfelf  had 
 ceafed  long  ago. 
 
 This  therefore  we  may  take  for  a  certain 
 rule,  that  the  more  we  partake  of  the  divine 
 nature,  the  more  improved  we  are  ourfelves^ 
 and  the  higher  our  fenfe  of  virtue  is,  the 
 more  we  ftiall  pity  and  companionate  thofe 
 that  want  it.  The  fight  of  fuch  people  will 
 then,  inftead  of  ralfing  in  us  a  haughty  con- 
 tempt, or  peevifli  indignation  towards  them, 
 fill  us  w^ith  fuch  bowels  of  compaflion,  as 
 when  we  fee  the  miferies  of  an  hoJpkaL 
 
 That  the  follies  therefore,  crimes,  and  ill 
 behaviour  of  our  fellow-creatures,  may  not 
 leflTen  that  love  and  tendernefs  which  we  arc 
 to  have  for  all  mankind,  we  fhould  often  con- 
 fider  the  realbns  on  which  this  duty  of  love  is 
 founded. 
 
 Now  we  are  to  love  our  neighbour,  that  is, 
 all  mankind  ,  not  becaufe  they  are  w^iie,  holy, 
 virtuous,  or  well-behavVi  ^  for  all  mankind 
 neither  ever  was,  nor  ever  will  be  fo;  there- 
 fore it  is  certain,  that  the  realon  of  our  being 
 obliged  to  love  them,  cannot  be  founded  in 
 their  virtue. 
 
 Again;  if  their  virtue  or  goodncfs  were  the 
 
 reafon  of  our  being  oblig'd  to  love  people,  wx 
 
 fhould  have  no  7iile  to  proceed  by;    becaufe 
 
 tlio'  fomc  peoples  virtues  or  vices  are  very  no- 
 
 D  d  a  torious, 
 
/i  04  ^  Serious  C  a  L  t 
 
 tovious,  yet,  generally  fpcaking,  we  are  but 
 very  ill  judges  of  the  virtue  and  merit  of  other 
 people. 
 
 thirdly ^  We  are  fure  that  the  virtue  or  me- 
 rit of  perfons,  is  not  the  reafon  of  our  being 
 obliged  to  love  them,  becaufe  we  are  com- 
 manded to  pay  the  higheit  inftances  of  love 
 to  our  worft  enemies ;  we  are  to  love,  and 
 blefs,  and  pray  for  thofe  that  moft  injurioufly 
 treat  us.  This  therefore  is  demonftration,  that 
 the  mierit  of  perfons  is  not  the  reafon  on  which 
 our  obligation  to  love  them  rs  founded. 
 
 Let  us  farther  confider,  what  that  love  is, 
 which  we  owe  to  our  neighbour.  It  is  to  love 
 him  as  ourfclvcs,  that  is,  to  have  all  thofe 
 fentimcnts  towards  him,  which  we  have  to- 
 wards ourfelves  ;  to  wifh  him  every  thing  that 
 we  may  lawfully  wifh  to  ourfelves  j  to  be  glad 
 of  every  good,  and  forry  for  every  evil  that 
 happens  to  him  ;  and  to  be  ready  to  do  him 
 ;ill  fuch  afts  of  kindnefs,  as  we  are  always 
 ready  to  do  to  ourfelves. 
 
 This   love  therefore,    you  fee,    is  nothing 
 elfe  but  a  love  of  benevolence-^    it  requires  no- 
 thing of  us,  but  fuch  good  isjijhes^  tender  af- 
 feB/onSj  and  fuch  ads  of  klndnefsj  as  we  fhew 
 to  ourfelves.  ' 
 
 This  is  all  the  love  that  we  owe  tothebeftof 
 men  ;  and  we  are  never  to  want  any  degree  of 
 this  love  to  the  worft,  or  moft  unreafonablc 
 man  in  the  world. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       405 
 
 Now  what  Is  the  rcalbn  why  we  are  to  love 
 every  man  in  this  manner  ?  It  is  anlwer'd, 
 that  our  obligation  to  love  all  men  in  this 
 manner,  is  founded  upon  many  rcalbns. 
 
 F/7'/?,  Upon  a  reafon  of  equity  ;  for  if  it  is 
 ju^j  to  love  our  fclves  in  this  manner,  it  muft 
 be  Unjiill  to  deny  any  degree  of  this  love  to 
 others,  becaufe  every  man  is  ]h  exaftly  of  the 
 Jame  nature,  and  In  the  lame  condition  as  our 
 felves. 
 
 If  therefore  your  own  crimes  and  follies  do 
 not  lelfen  your  obligation  to  feefc  your  own 
 goodj  and  wiih  well  to  your  ielf  ^  neither  do 
 the  follies  and  crimes  of  your  neighbour, 
 lefTen  your  obligation  to  wifh  and  feek  the 
 good  of  your  neighbour. 
 
 Another  reafon  for  this  love,  is  founded  In 
 the  authority  of  God,  who  has  commanded 
 us  to  love  every  man  as  our  lelf. 
 
 Thirdly^  We  are  obliged  to  this  love,  in 
 imitation  of  God's  goodnels,  that  wc  may  be 
 children  of  our  Father  which  is  in  Heaven^ 
 who  willeth  the  happinels  of  all  his  creatures, 
 and  maketh  his  Sun  to  rife  on  the  evil,  and 
 on  the  good. 
 
 Fourthly^  Our  redemption  by  Jefus  Chrift, 
 callethus  to  the  exercife  of  this  love,  who 
 came  from  Heaven,  and  laid  down  his  life, 
 out  of  loyc  to  the  whole  finful  world, 
 
 Dd  3  l^'^thlf^ 
 
40(5 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 Fifthly^  By  the  command  of  our  Lord  and 
 Saviour,  who  has  rcquir'd  us  to  love  one  ano- 
 ther, as  he  has  loved  us. 
 
 Thele  arc  the  great,  perpetual  reafons,  on 
 \vhich  our  obligation  to  love  all  mankind  as 
 our  fclves,  is  founded. 
 
 Thcfe  realbns  never  vary,  or  change ,  they 
 always  continue  in  their  full  force  ;  and  there- 
 fore equally  oblige  at  all  times,  and  in  regard 
 to  all  perlons.  • 
 
 God  loves  us,  not  becaufe  we  ate  wife,  and 
 good,  and  holy,  but  in  pity  to  us,  becaufe 
 we  want  this  happinefs :  He  loves  us,  in  or-^ 
 der  to  make  us  good.  Our  love  therefore 
 xuufi:  take  this  courlc ;  not  looking  for,  or  re-^ 
 quiring  the  merit  of  our  brethren,  but  pity- 
 ing their  diforders,  and  wifhing  them  all  the 
 good  that  they  want,  and  are  capable  of  re- 
 ceiving. 
 
 It  appears  now  plainly  from  what  has  been 
 faid,  that  the  love  which  we  owe  to  our  bre- 
 tliren,  is  only  a  love  of  benevolence.  Secondly^ 
 That  this  duty  of  benevolence  is  founded 
 upon  fuch  reafons  as  never  vary  or  change ; 
 iiich  as  have  no  dependance  upon  the  qualities 
 of  perfons.  From  whence  it  follows,  that  it 
 is  the  lame  great  Jin^  to  want  this  love  to  a 
 bad  man,  as  to  want  it  to  a  good  mian.  Be- 
 caufe he  that  denies  any  of  this  benevolence 
 to  a  bad  man,  offends  againft  all  the  fame 
 reafons  of  love,  as  he  does  that  denies  any 
 benevolence  to  a  good  man  :  And  conlequentr? 
 ly  it  is  the  ffUne  fin. 
 
to  a  Devout  a^td  Holy  Life.       407 
 
 When  therefore,  you  let  ]oofe  any  i]l-na- 
 turVi  pafTion,  either  of  hatred  or  contempt 
 towards  (  as  you  ilippofe  )  an  ill  man,  confi- 
 der  what  you  would  think  of  another,  that 
 was  doing  the  fame  towards  a  good  man,  and 
 be  affurYi  that  you  are  committing  the  fame 
 fin. 
 
 You  will  perhaps  fay,  How^  is  it  poffible  to 
 love  a  good  and  a  bad  man  in  the  fame 
 degree  ? 
 
 Juft  as  it's  poffible  to  be  as  jufj  and  falth^ 
 
 fid  to  a  good  man,  as  to  an  evil  man.     Now 
 
 are  you   in  any  difficulty  about    performing 
 
 jnfiice   and  fatthfiilnefs  to  a  bad  Man  ?  Are 
 
 you  in  any  doubts,  whether  you  need  be  fo 
 
 jnji  and  faithful  to  him,  as  you  need  be  to  a 
 
 good  man  ?  Now  why   is  it,  that  you  are  in 
 
 no  doubt  about  it  ?   'Tis  becaufe  you  know, 
 
 that  juftice  and  faithfulnefs  are  fovindcd  upou 
 
 reaibns  that  never  vary  or  change^  that  have 
 
 no  dependance  upon  the  merits  of  men,  but 
 
 are  founded  in  the  nature  of  things,  in  the 
 
 Iaws  of  God,  and  therefore  are  to  be  obferv'd 
 
 with  an  equal  exaftnefs  towards  good  and  bad 
 
 men. 
 
 Now  do  but  think  thus  juftly  of  charity, 
 or  love  to  your  neighbour,  that  it  is  founded 
 upon  reaibns,  that  vary  not,  that  have  no 
 dependance  upon  the  merits  of  men,  and  then 
 you  \w\\\  find  it  as  poffible  to  perform  the  fame 
 exatt  chanty^  as  the  fame  exa^  jajiice  to  all 
 m^H;  whether  good  or  bad, 
 
 D  d  4  Yoa 
 
4o8 
 
 A  Serious  C  a  L  !! 
 
 You  will  perhaps  fiirther  ask,  if  you  arc 
 not  to  have  a  particular  efteejn^  veneration  and 
 reverence  for  good  men  ?  It  is  anfwer'd  ;  Yes. 
 But  then  this  high  ejlecm  and  veneratloji^  is  a 
 thing  very  different  Irom  that  love  of  bcnevo^ 
 lence  which  wx  ov/e  to  our  neighbour. 
 
 The  high  efteem  and  veneration  w^hich  you 
 have  for  a  man  of  eminent  piety,  is  no  aft  of 
 charity  to  him  ^  it  is  not  out  of  pity  and 
 companion  that  you  lb  reverence  him,  but  it 
 is  rather  an  ad  of  charity  to  your  felf,  that 
 fuch  efteem  and  veneration  may  excite  you  to 
 follow  his  example. 
 
 You  may  and  ought  to  love*,  like,  and 
 approve  the  life  which  the  good  man  leads  j 
 but  then  this  is  only  the  loving  of  virtue, 
 where-ever  we  fee  it.  And  we  don't  love  vir- 
 tue with  the  love  of  benevolence,  as  any  thing 
 that  w^ants  our  good  wlpes^  but  as  fomething 
 that  is  our  proper  good. 
 
 The  whole  of  the  matter  is  this.  The 
 ci^llons  which  you  are  to  love^  efieem^  and  ad- 
 mire^ are  the  adions  of  good  and  pious  men ; 
 but  the  ferfons  to  whom  you  are  to  do  all  the 
 good  you  can,  in  all  forts  of  kindnefs  and 
 compalTion,  are  all  perfons,  whether  good  or 
 bad. 
 
 This  diftinclion  betwixt  love  of  benevo- 
 lence, and  efteem  or  veneration,  is  very  plain 
 and  obvious.  And  you  may  perhaps  ftill  bet- 
 ter fee  the  plainnefs  and  neceffity  of  it,  by 
 this  following  inftancc* 
 
 'No 
 
 \ 
 
to  a  V.c'V.opit  and  Holy  Life.      409 
 
 No  man  is  to  have  a  h'lgh  efleem^  or  honour 
 for  his  own  accomplifhmcnts,  or  behaviour^ 
 yet  every  man  is  to  love  himlelf,  that  is,  to 
 wilh  well  to  himlelf;  therefore  this  diltinclion 
 betwixt  love  and  efteem,  is  not  only  plain, 
 but  very  neceffary  to  be  obferv'd. 
 
 Again,  if  you  think  it  hardly  pofTible  tp 
 diflike  the  aclions  of  unreafonable  men,  and 
 yet  have  a  true  love  for  them  :  Confider  this 
 with  relation  to  your  felf. 
 
 It  is  very  polTible,  I  hope,  for  you  not  only 
 to  diflike,  but  to  detefl  and  abhor  a  great  ma- 
 ny of  your  own  paft  actions,  and  to  aeculc 
 your  felf  of  great  folly  for  thern.  But  do 
 you  then  lofe  any  of  thole  tender  fcntiments 
 towards  your  felf,  which  you  us'd  to  have? 
 Do  you  then  ceafe  to  wifh  well  to  your  felf? 
 Is  not  the  love  of  your  felf  as  ftrong  then,  as 
 at  any  other  time  ? 
 
 •  Now  what  is  thus  poffible  with  relation  to 
 our  felves,  is  in  the  fame  manner  poflible 
 with  relation  to  others.  We  may  have  the 
 higheft  good  wifhes  towards  them,  defiring  for 
 them  every  good  that  we  defire  for  our  felves, 
 and  yet  at  the  fame  time  diflike  their  way  of 
 Jife. 
 
 To  proceed  ;  all  that  love  which  we  may 
 juftly  have  for  cur  felves,  we  are  in  firVci  jti- 
 (i'lCe  oblig'd  to  exercile  towards  all  other  men  * 
 and  we  offend  againft  the  great  law  of  our 
 nature,  and  the  grcateft  laws  of  God,  when 
 pur  tempers  towai'ds  others  are  different  from 
 fhofe  which  we  haye  powards  our  felyes. 
 
4 1  o  A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 Now  t\Ydtfelf'Jove  which  isyV//?  and  reafona^ 
 hhj  keeps  us  conftantly  tender^  compajftonate^ 
 and  well-affetied  towards  our  felves  ;  if  there- 
 fore you  don't  feel  thefe  kind  difpofitions  to- 
 wards all  other  people,  you  may  be  alTur'd, 
 that  you  are  not  in  that  Hate  of  charity, 
 which  is  the  very  life  and  foul  of  chriftian  piety. 
 
 You  know  how  it  hurts  you,  to  be  made 
 the  jep  and  ridicule  of  other  people ;  how  it 
 grieves  you  to  be  rohh'd  of  your  reputation, 
 and  deprived  of  the  favourable  opinion  of  your 
 neighbours :  If  therefore  you  expofe  others  to 
 jcorn  and  contempt  in  any  degree  ;  if  it  pleafes 
 you  to  fee  or  hear  of  their  frailties  and  injir' 
 mties ;  or  if  you  are  only  loth  to  conceal 
 their  faults,  you  are  fo  far  from  loving  fuch 
 people  as  your  felf,  that  you  may  be  juftly 
 iuppos'd  to  have  as  much  hatred  for  them,  as 
 you  have  love  for  your  felf.  For  fuch  tem- 
 pers are  as  truly  the  proper  fruits  of  hatred,  as 
 the  contrary  tempers  are  the  proper  fruits  of 
 love. 
 
 And  as  it  is  a  certain  fign  that  you  love 
 your  felf,  becaufe  you  are  tender  of  every 
 thing  that  concerns  you;  fo  it  is  as  certain  a 
 Jign  that  you  hate  your  neighbour,  when  you 
 are  pleased  with  any  thing  that  hurts  him. 
 
 But  now,  if  the  want  of  a  trtie  and  exa[i 
 charity  be  fo  great  a  want,  that,  as  St.  "-Paul 
 faith,  it  renders  our  greateft  virtues  but  em- 
 pty founds,  and  tinkling  cymbals^  how  highly 
 does  it  concern  us  to  ftudy  every  art,  and 
 pradife  every  method  of  raifing  our  fouls  to 
 ■  this 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      4 1 1 
 
 this  ftate  of  charity?  It  is  for  this  rcalbn, 
 that  you  are  here  defir'd,  not  to  let  this  hour 
 of  prayer  pafs,  without  a  full  and  folemn  fup- 
 plication  to  God,  for  all  the  inftanccs  of  an 
 univerfal  love  and  benevolence  to  all  mankind. 
 Such  daily  conftant  devotion,  being  the  on- 
 ly likely  means  of  preferving  you  in  fuch  a 
 ftate  of  love,  as  is  neceflary  to  prove  you  to 
 be  a  true  follower  of  Jefus  Chrift. 
 
 CHAP.   xxr. 
 
 of  the  necefjtty  and  benefit  of  Interceffion,  con- 
 Jider\l  as  an  exercife  of  univerfal  love. 
 How  all  orders  of  men  are  to  pray  and  inter-' 
 cede  with  God  for  one  another.  How  natii^ 
 rally  fich  interceffion  amends  and  refor?ns  the 
 hearts  of  thofe  that  ufe  it. 
 
 T"^  HAT  interceflion  is  a  great  and  ne- 
 JJL     ceflary  part  of  chriftian  Devotion,    is 
 very  evident  from  Scripture. 
 
 The  firft  followers  of  Chrift  feem  to  fup- 
 port  all  their  love,  and  to  maintain  all  their 
 intercourfe  and  correfpondence ,  by  mutual 
 prayers  with  one  another. 
 
 St.  'J^aul^  whether  he  writes  to  churches,  or 
 particular  pcrfons,  ihews  his  interceffion  to  be 
 perpetual  for  them,  that  they  are  the  conftant 
 ^ubjed  of  his  prayers^ 
 
 ■      ■       '  Thus 
 
412  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Thus  to  the  '•Thilipp'jans^  I  thcinh  7ny  God 
 upon  every  remembrance  of  you, 
 ii  •  »•  4'  5-  yllways  in  every  prayer  of  mine  for 
 yfiii  all.,  77Uiking  requeji  with  joy.  Here  we  lee, 
 not  only  a  continual  interceflion ,  but  per- 
 formed with  lb  much  gladnefs,  as  fhews  that  it 
 was  an  exercjlc  of  Igye,  in  which  he  highly 
 Tcjoicki. 
 
 His  Devotion  had  alfo  the  fame  care  for 
 particular  perfons ;  as  appears  by  the  follow- 
 ing pallage.  J  thank  my  God.,  whom  I  ferve 
 .  from  7ny  fore-fathers.,  uuith  a  fare 
 
 2  im.  1.  3.  confciciice.,  that  without  ceajing  I 
 have  remembrance  of  thee  In  my  prayers  night 
 and  dyi).  How  holy  an  acquaintance  anci 
 friendlliip  was  this,  how  worthy  of  perfons 
 that  were  raised  above  the  world,  and  related 
 to  one  another,  as  nev/  mcmher?  of  a  king- 
 dom of  heaven! 
 
 Apoftles  and  great  Saints  did  not  only  tli;is 
 benefit,  and  blefs  particular  Churches,  and 
 private  perfons;  but  they  themfelves  alio  re- 
 ceived graces  from  God  by  the  prayers  of  a- 
 tkers.  Thus  faith  St.  'Taul  to  the  Corinthians^ 
 .  Toil  alfo  helping  together  by  prayer 
 
 for  nSy  that  Jor  the  gift  be  flowed 
 f-ifon  us  by  the  means  of  many  perjbns^  thanks 
 viay  be  given  by  many  on  our  behalf 
 
 This  was  the  antient  friendflnp  of  Chriftians, 
 uniting  and  cementing  their  hearts,  not  by 
 worldly  confiderations,  or  human  paffions,  but 
 by  the  mutual  communicatioa  of   fpiritual 
 
 blei; 
 
to  a  Vez^otif  and  Uoly  Life.     413 
 
 bleflings,  by  prayers  and  thankfgivings  to  God 
 for  one  another. 
 
 It  was  this  holy  ihtercefTion  that  rais'd 
 Chriftians  to  fuch  a  ftate  of  mutual  love,  as 
 far  exceeded  all  that  had  been  prais'd  and  ad- 
 mired in  human  friendfhip.  And  when  the 
 fame  ipirit  of  t)iterceJJion  is  again  in  the  world, 
 when  Chriftianity  has  the  lame  powxr  over  the 
 hearts  of  people,  that  it  then  had,  this  holy 
 friendfhip  will  be  again  in  fifhion,  and  Chri- 
 ftians will  be  again  the  wonder  of  the  world, 
 for  that  exceeding  love  which  they  bear  to  one 
 another. 
 
 For  7i  frequent  interceiTion  w'lth  God,  eatncfl- 
 ly  befeeching  him  to  forgive  the  fills  of  all 
 mankind,  to  bids  them  with  his  providence, 
 enlighten  them  with  his  Spirit,  and  bring 
 them  to  everlafting  happinefs,  is  the  divineft 
 exercife  that  the  heart  of  man  can  be  engaged 
 in. 
 
 Be  daily  therefore  on  your  knees  in  a  folemn, 
 deliberate  performance  of  this  devotion,  pray- 
 ing for  others  in  S^xq\v  forms ^  with  fuch  Jtngth^ 
 i?7iportHmty^  and  earneftnejs^  as  you  ufe  for 
 yourfelf  •  and  you  will  find  all  Vitth^  lll-natn/d 
 paffioris  dye  away,  your  heart  grow  grecit  and 
 generous^  delighting  in  the  common  happinels 
 of  others,  as  you  ufcd  only  to  delight  in  your 
 own. 
 
 For  he  that  daily  prays  to  God,  that  all 
 men  may  be  happy  in  heaven,  takes  the  likc- 
 liefl:  way  to  make  him  wifh  for,  and  delight 
 in  their  happinels  on  earth.     And  it  is  hardly 
 
 pollible 
 
4^4  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 poffible  for  you  to  bcleech  and  intrcat  God  to 
 make  any  one  happy  in  the  higheft  enjoy- 
 ments of  his  glory  to  all  eternity,  and  yet  be 
 troubled  to  fee  him  enjoy  the  much  imallcr 
 gifts  of  God  in  this  fliort  and  low  ftatc  of  hu- 
 man life. 
 
 For  how  ftrange  and  unnatural  would  it  be, 
 to  pray  to  God  to  grant  health  and  a  longer  life 
 to  '3ijick  7nan^  and  at  the  fame  time  to  envy 
 him  the  poor  pleafure  of  agreeable  medicines  ? 
 
 Yet  this  would  be  no  more  ftrange,  or  un- 
 natural, than  to  pray  to  God  that  your  neigh- 
 bour may  enjoy  the  htgheji  degrees  of  his  mer- 
 cy and  favour,  and  yet  at  the  lame  time  envy 
 him  the  little  'rredit  ^.nAfgure  he  hath  amongft 
 his  fellow-creatures. 
 
 When  therefore  you  have  once  habituated 
 your  heart  to  a  ferious  performance  of  this  ho- 
 ly interceffion,  you  have  done  a  great  deal  to 
 render  it  incapable  di  fpight  and  envy^  and  to 
 make  it  naturally  delight  in  the  happinefs  of 
 all  mankind. 
 
 This  is  the  natural  efFeft  of  2i  general  inter- 
 ccjjion  for  all  mankind.  But  the  greateft  be- 
 nefits of  it  are  then  received,  when  it  delcends 
 to  fuch  particular  inftances,  as  our  Jiate  and 
 condition  in  life  more  particularly  require  of 
 us. 
 
 Though  we  are  to  treat  all  mankind  as 
 iieighhours  and  brethren^  as  any  occaiion  offers  ; 
 yet  as  we  can  only  live  in  the  adi;^:  Ibciety  of 
 a  few,  and  are  by  our  ftate  and  condition  more 
 particularly  related  to  fonie  than  others^  fo 
 
 when 
 
to  a  Ve^otit  and  Holy  Life.      415 
 
 when  our  intercellion  is  made  an  cxcrcile  of 
 love  and  care  for  thofe  amongft  whom  our  kt 
 is  fallen,  or  who  belong  to  us  in  a  nearer  re-^ 
 latiouy  it  then  becomes  the  grcateft  benefit  to 
 ourfelves,  and  produces  its  beft  effects  in  our 
 own  hearts. 
 
 If  therefore  you  fliould  always  change  and 
 alter  your  interceilions,  according  as  the  needs 
 and  necejfttlts  of  your  nt'iglohours  or  acquaint 
 tance  feem  to  require ;  befeeching  God  to  de- 
 liver them  from  fuch  or  fuch  particular  evils, 
 or  to  grant  them  this  or  that  particular  gift, 
 or  bleHing;  fuch  interceffions,  befides  the 
 great  charity  of  them,  would  have  a  mighty 
 cffeft  upon  your  own  heart,  as  diipofing  you 
 to  every  other  good  office,  and  to  the  exercile 
 of  every  other  virtue  towards  fuch  perfons,  as 
 have  ib  often  a  place  in  your  prayera. 
 
 This  would  make  it  pleafant  to  you  to  be 
 coiirtecus^  chilj  and  CGndefcendlng  to  all  about 
 you ;  and  make  you  unable  to  fay,  or  do  a 
 rude,  or  hard  thing  to  thofe,  for  whom  you 
 had  ufed  yourfelf  to  be  fo  kind  and  conipaC- 
 donate  in  your  prayers. 
 
 For  there  is  nothing  that  makes  us  love  a 
 man  to  much,  as  praying  for  him  ;  and  when 
 you  can  once  do  this  fincerely  for  any  mar, 
 you  have  fitted  your  foul  for  the  performance 
 of  every  thing  that  is  kind  and  civil  towards 
 him.  This  will  fill  your  heart  w^ith  a  gene- 
 rofity  and  tendernefs,  that  will  give  you  a  bet- 
 ter and  fweeter  behaviour,  than  any  thing 
 that  is  called  7^/;^  breeding^  and  good  manners. 
 
 By 
 
41 6  A  SerioHj'  Call 
 
 By  confidcring  yourfelf  as  an  advocate  with 
 God  for  your  neighbours  and  acquaintance, 
 you  would  never  lind  it  hard  to  be  at  peace 
 with  them  yourfelf.  It  would  be  eafy  to  you 
 to  bear  w^th,  and  forgive  thofe,  for  whom  you 
 particularly  implored  the  divine  mercy  and 
 forgivenefs. 
 
 Such  prayers  as  thefe  amongft  neighbours 
 and  acquaintiince^  would  unite  them  to  one  ano- 
 ther in  the  ftrongeft  bonds  of  love  and  ten- 
 dernefs.  It  would  exalt  and  ennoble  their 
 fouls,  and  teach  them  to  confider  one  another 
 in  a  higher  ftate,  as  members  of  a  fpiritiial 
 Joctety^  that  are  created  for  the  enjoyment  of 
 the  common  bledings  of  God,  and  fellow- 
 heirs  of  the  iame  future  glory. 
 
 And  by  being  thus  defirous,  that  every  one 
 fliould  have  their  full  ftiare  of  the  favours  of 
 God,  they  would  not  only  be  content,  but 
 glad  to  fee  one  another  happy  iu  the  little 
 enjoyments  of  this  tranlitory  life. 
 
 Thele  w^ould  be  the  natural  effeds  of  fuch 
 an  interceiTion  amongft  people  of  the  fame 
 town  or  ?2e}ghbourhoodj  or  that  were  acquainted 
 w^ith  one  another's  ftate  and  condition, 
 
 Ourayiius  is  a  holy  Prieft,  full  of  the  fpirit 
 of  the  Golpel,  watching,  labouring,  and  pray- 
 ing for  a  poor  country  village.  Every  foul  in 
 it  is  as  dear  to  him  as  himlelf ;  and  he  loves 
 them  all,  as  he  loves  hi mfelf ;  becaufehe^r^j^ 
 for  them  all,  as  often  as  he  prays  for  him- 
 fdf. 
 
 If 
 
to  a  T)€<voHt  arid  Holy  Life.       4 1 7 
 
 If  his  whole  life  is  one  continual  exercife  of 
 great  zeal  and  labour,  hardly  ever  latisfy'd 
 with  any  degrees  of  care  and  watchfulnels, 
 ^tis  bccaufe  he  has  learned  the  great  value  of 
 fouls^  by  lb  often  appearing  before  God,  as  an 
 intercejfbr  for  them. 
 
 He  never  thinks  he  can  love,  or  do  enough 
 for  his  flock ;  becauie  he  never  confiders  them 
 in  any  other  view,  than  as  fo  many  perlbns, 
 that  by  receiving  the  gifts  and  graces  of  God, 
 are  to  become  his  ho^e^  hisyV^,  and  his  crown 
 of  rejo'idng. 
 
 H«  goes  about  his  Parifh^  and  vifits  every 
 body  in  it  ^  but  vifits  in  the  fame  fpirit  of 
 piety  that  he  preaches  to  them  ;  he  vifits  them 
 to  encourage  their  virtues,  to  affift  them  with 
 his  advice  and  counfel,  to  difcover  their  man- 
 ner of  life,  and  to  know  the  ftate  of  their 
 fouls,  that  he  may  intercede  with  God  for 
 them,  according  to  their  particular  necejjities. 
 
 When  Oitranius  firft  entred  into  holy  orders, 
 he  had  a  haiightinefs  in  his  temper,  a  great 
 contempt  and  dif regard  for  ail  foolifh  and  un- 
 reafbnable  people;  but  he  has  pray'd  ^- 
 way  this  fpirit,  and  has  now  the  greatelt  ten- 
 dernefs  for  the  motl  obflinate  finners  \  becauie 
 he  is  always  hoping,  that  God  will  fooner  or 
 later  hear  xhok  prayers  that  he  makes  for  their 
 repentance. 
 
 The  rudenefs^  ill-nature^  or  perverfe  beha- 
 viour of  any  of  his  flock,  ufed  at  firll  to  be- 
 tray him  into  impatience;  but  it  now  riflfes 
 -{IQ  other  pallion  in  him,  than  a  defire  of  be- 
 
 E  c  ing 
 
4 1 8  A  Serious  C  a  L  L 
 
 ing  upon  his  knees  in  prayer  to  God  for  them^ 
 Thus  have  his  frayers  for  othcjs,  ^//^;*W  and  ^- 
 raended  the  ftate  of  his  own  heart. 
 
 It  would  ftrangely  delight  you  to  lee  with 
 what  fplrit  he  converfes,  w^th  what  tendernejs 
 he  reproves,  with  what  affeBwn  he  exhorts, 
 and  with  what  v'lgor  he  preaches ;  and  'tis  all 
 owing  to  this,  becaufe  he  reproves,  exhorts, 
 and  preaches  to  thofe,  for  whom  he  firft  prays 
 to  God. 
 
 This  devotion  foftens  his  heart,  enlightens 
 his  mind,  fweetens  his  temper,  and  makes 
 every  thing  that  comes  from  him,  inftruftive, 
 amiable,  and  affecting. 
 
 At  his  firft  coming  to  his  little  Village^  it 
 was  as  dilagreeable  to  him  as  a  frijon^  and 
 every  day  feeto'd  too  tedious  to  be  endured  in 
 fo  retired  a  place.  He  thought  his  Parifh  was 
 too  full  of  poor  and  mean  people,  that  were 
 none  of  them  fit  for  the  converfation  of  a 
 Gentleman. 
 
 This  put  him  upon  a  clofe  application  to 
 his  ftudies.  He  kept  much  at  home,  writ 
 mtes  upon  Homer  and  ^lautusy  and  fometimes 
 thought  it  hard  to  be  called  to  pray  by  any 
 poor  body,  when  he  was  juft  in  the  midft  of 
 one  of  Homer's  battels. 
 
 This  was  his  polite^  or  I  may  rather  fay, 
 poor^  ignorant  turn  of  mind,  before  devotion 
 had  got  the  government  of  his  heart. 
 
 But  now  his  days  are  lb  far  from  being  te- 
 dious, or  his  Parifh  too  great  a  retirement, 
 that  he  now^  only  \vants  more  time  to  do  that 
 
 variety 
 
to  a  T)c^ont  and  Holy  Life.      419 
 
 variety  of  good  which  his  Ibul  thirfls  after. 
 The  Iblitude  of  his  little  Parifli  is  become 
 matter  of  great  comfort  to  him,  becaulc  he 
 hopes  that  God  has  placed  him  and  his  flock 
 there,  to  make  it  their  way  to  heaven. 
 
 He  can  now  not  only  converfe  with,  but 
 gladly  attend  and  wait  upon  the  pooreft  kind 
 of  people.  He  is  now  daily  watching  over 
 the  weak  and  hijirm^  humbling  himlelf  to 
 perverfe,  rude,  ignorant  people,  where-ever 
 he  can  find  them ;  and  is  ib  far  from  defiring 
 to  be  confidered  as  a  Gentle^nan^  that  he  de- 
 fires  to  be  uied  as  the  fervant  of  all ;  and  in 
 the  fpirit  of  his  Lord  and  Matter  ^/Wj  h'lmfelfj 
 and  is  glad  to  kneel  down  2indwaJJj  any  of  their 
 feet. 
 
 He  now  thinks  the  poorett  creature  in  his 
 Parifh  good  enough,  and  great  enough,  to 
 deferve  the  humbleft  attendances,  the  kindeft 
 friendlhips,  the  tendereft  offices,  he  can  poili- 
 bly  Ihew  them. 
 
 He  is  fo  far  now  from  wanting  agreeable 
 company,  that  he  thinks  there  is  no  better 
 converfation  in  the  world,  than  to  be  talking 
 with  poor  and  mean  people  about  the  kingdom 
 of  heaven. 
 
 All  thefe  noble  thoughts  and  divine  fenti- 
 ments  are  the  effeds  of  his  great  devotion  ; 
 he  prefents  every  one  fo  often  before  God  in 
 his  prayers,  that  he  never  thinks  he  can  ejieeniy 
 reverence^  or  ferve  thole  enough,  for  whom 
 he  implores  fo  many  mercies  from  God. 
 
 E  e  a  Oura^ 
 
/^20  A  Serious   Call 
 
 Ourmnis  is  mightily  afFccled  with  this  paf- 
 fage  of  holy  Scripture,  The  effe^ 
 Bual^  jerveut  prayer  of  a  righteous 
 man  avatleth  much. 
 
 This  makes  him  praftife  all  the  arts  of  holy 
 living,  and  afpire  after  every  inftance  of  piety 
 and  nghteoufnefs,  that  his  prayers  for  his  flock 
 may  have  their  full  force,  and  avail  much  with 
 God. 
 
 P'or  this  reafon  he  has  fold  a  fmall  eftate 
 that  he  had,  and  has  erefted  a  charitahle  re- 
 tirement for  antient,  poor  people  to  live  ia 
 prayer  and  piety,  that  his  prayers  being  affift- 
 ed  by  fuch  good  works,  may  fierce  the  clouds^ 
 and  bring  down  blellings  upon  thofe  fouls 
 committed  to  his  care. 
 
 Ouranhis  reads  how  God  himfelf  faid  unto 
 
 ^  'j4bmelech  concern  in  2;  Abrahatn.  He 
 
 Gen.  XX  7.     /  n  - 
 
 is  a 'Prophet  J  he  jhall  pray  for  thee ^ 
 
 and  thou  pah  live. 
 
 And  again,  how  he  faid  of  yoh^   And  my 
 
 tob  xlii.  8.      y^^^^^^^  Job  fiall  pray  for  you  j  for 
 ^  him  will  I  accept. 
 
 From  thefe  paflages  Ou  rani  us  juftly  con- 
 cludes, that  the  prayers  of  men  eminent  for 
 holinefs  of  life,  have  an  extraordinary  power 
 with  God ;  that  he  grants  to  other  people  fuch 
 pardons,  reliefs  and  bleffings,  through  their 
 prayers,^  as  would  not  be  granted  to  men  of 
 lefs  piety  and  perfedion.  This  makes  Oura-* 
 uius  exceeding  ftudious  of  chriftian  perfection, 
 fearching  after  every  grace  and  holy  temper, 
 purifying  his  heart  all  manner  of  ways,  fear- 
 
 ilil 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.        ^21 
 
 ful  of  every  error  and  dcfed  in  his  life,  left 
 his  prayers  for  his  flock  Ihould  be  lefs  availing 
 with  God,  through  his  own  defects  in  holi- 
 nefs. 
 
 This  makes  him  careful  of  every  temper  of 
 his  heart,  give  ah}is  oizW  that  he  hath,  watch ^ 
 2indfjff^  and  morthfy^  and  live  according  to 
 the  ftrifteft  rules  of  temperance^  meeknejs^  and 
 humility^  that  he  may  be  in  Ibme  degree  Hke 
 an  Abraham^  or  a  ^oh  in  hisParifli,  and  make 
 fuch  prayers  for  them,  as  God  will  hear  and 
 accept. 
 
 Thefe  are  the  happy  effeds,  which  a  devout 
 Intercejjion  hath  produced  in  the  life  of  Oura^ 
 niiis. 
 
 And  if  other  people  in  their  feveral  ftati- 
 ons,  were  to  imitate  this  example,  in  fuch  a 
 manner  as  fuited  their  particular  ftate  of  life, 
 they  would  certainly  find  the  fame  happy  ef- 
 fefts  from  it. 
 
 If  Maflersy  for  inftance,  were  thus  to  rc^ 
 member  their  fervants  in  their  prayers,  be- 
 feeching  God  to  blefs  them,  and  fuiting  their 
 petitions  to  the  particular  wants  and  necefli- 
 ties  of  their  fervants;  letting  no  day  pafs, 
 without  2ij till  performance  of  this  part  of  De- 
 votion, the  benefit  would  be  as  great  tQ 
 themfelves,   as  to  their  fervants. 
 
 Nq  way  fo  likely  as  this,  to  infpire  them 
 with  a  true  ienfc  of  that  power  which  they 
 have  in  their  hands,  to  make  them  delight  ia 
 doing  good,  and  becoming  exemplary  in  all 
 thQ  parts  of  a  wife  and  good  mailer. 
 
 E  e  3  The 
 
4^2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 The  prefenting  their  fervants  fo  often  be-* 
 fore  God,  as  equally  related  to  God,  and  en-  ^ 
 titled  to  the  fame  expedations  of  Heaven,  as 
 themfelves,  would  naturally  incline  them  to 
 treat  them,  not  only  with  fuch  humanity  as 
 hccAvnc  felioW'CreatureSj  but  with  fucl^  tender- 
 nefs^    care^    and  ge72eroJity^    as  became  fellows- 
 heirs  of  the  fame  glory.  This  Devotion  would 
 make  mailers  inclined  to  every  thing  that  was 
 good  towards  their  iervants ;   be  watchful  of 
 their  behaviour,    and  as  ready  to  require  of 
 them   an  exaft  obiervance   of  the  duties  of 
 Chriftianity,    as   of  the  duties  of  their  fer-? 
 vice. 
 
 This  would  teach  them  to  confider  their 
 fervants  as  God's  fervants,  to  defire  their  per- 
 fection, to  do  nothing  before  them  that 
 might  corrupt  their  minds,  to  impofe  no  bu- 
 fincfs  upon  them  that  fiiould  leffen  their 
 j^crSc  of  Religion,  or  hmder  them  from  their 
 full  fhare  of  Devotion,  both  publick  and  pri- 
 vate. This  praying  for  them,  would  make 
 them  as  glad  to  fee  their  fervants  eminent  in 
 piety  as  themfelves,  and  contrive  that  they 
 fnould  have  all  the  opportunities  and  encou- 
 ragements, both  to  know  and  perform  all  the 
 duties  of  the  chriftian  life. 
 
 How  natural  w^ould  it  be  for  fuch  a  Mafter, 
 to  perform  evcfy  part  of  Family-Devotion; 
 to  have  conftant  prayers,  to  excufe  no  ones 
 abicnce  from  them;  to  have  the  Scriptures, 
 and  books  of  piety  often  read  amongft  his 
 fervants;    to  take   all    opportunities   of   in- 
 
 ftrufting 
 
to  a  DezfOHt  aiid  Holy  Life.      4^3 
 
 ftmfting  them,  of  raifing  their  minds  to  God, 
 and  teaching  them  to  do  all  their  bufincrs,  as 
 a  lervice  to  God,  and  upon  the  hopes  and  ex- 
 pectations of  another  life? 
 
 How  natural  would  it  be  for  fuch  a  one  to 
 pity  their  weakneis  and  ignorance,  to  bear 
 with  the  dulnefs  of  their  underftandings,  or 
 the  perverfenels  of  their  tempers  •  to  reprove 
 them  w^ith  tendernels,  exhort  them  with  affe- 
 clion ,  as  hoping  that  God  would  hear  his 
 prayers  for  them  ? 
 
 How  impoffible  would  it  be  for  a  Mafter, 
 that  thus  interceded  with  God  for  his  ler- 
 vants,  to  ufe  any  unkind  threatnings  towards 
 them,  to  damn  and  curfe  them  as  dogs  and 
 fcoundrels,  and  treat  them  only  as  the  dregs 
 of  the  creation. 
 
 This  Devotion  w^ould  give  them  another 
 fpirit,  and  make  them  confider  how  to  make 
 proper  returns  of  care,  kindnefs,  and  prote- 
 ction to  thole,  who  had  fpent  their  ftrength 
 and  time  in  fervice  and  attendance  upon 
 them. 
 
 Now  if  Gentlemen  think  it  too  low  an  em- 
 ployment for  their  ftate  and  dignity,  to  exer- 
 cile  fuch  a  Devotion  as  this  for  their  yfrz^^;^/"j, 
 let  them  confider  how  far  they  are  from  the 
 fpirit  of  Chrift,  who  made  himfelf  not  only 
 an  interceffor,  but  a  iacrifice  for  the  whole 
 race  of  finful  mankind. 
 
 Let  them  confider  how  miferable  their 
 greatnefs  would  be,  if  the  Son  of  God  fhould 
 think  it  as  much  below  him  to  pray  for  them, 
 
 E  e  4  iks. 
 
4^4  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 as  they  do   to    pray    for    their  fellow-crea- 
 tures. 
 
 Let  them  confider  how  far  they  are  from 
 that  fpirit,  which  prays  for  its  moft  unjuft 
 enemies,  if  they  have  not  Idndnefs  enough  to 
 pray  for  thofc,  by  whofe  labours  and  fervice 
 they  live  in  cafe  themfe-ves. 
 
 Again,  if  parents-  ihould  thus  make  them- 
 felves  advocates  and  inter cejjbrs  with  God  for 
 their  children,  conftantly  applying  to  Heaven 
 in  behalf  of  them,  nothing  would  be  more 
 likely,  not  only  to  blefs  their  children,  but 
 alfb  to  form  and  difpole  their  own  minds  to 
 the  performance  of  every  thing  that  was  ex- 
 cellent and  praife-worthy. 
 
 I  don't  fuppofcj  but  that  the  generality  of 
 Parents  remember  their  children  in  their  pray- 
 ers, and  call  upon  God  to  blefs  them.  But 
 the  thing  here  intended,  is  not  a  general  re- 
 membrance of  them,  but  a  regular  wethod  of 
 recommending  all  their  f  articular  needs  and 
 fiecejfities  unto  God ;  and  of  praying  for  every 
 fuch  particular  grace  and  virtue  for  them,  as 
 their  flate  and  condMon  of  life  fhall  feem  to 
 require. 
 
 The  ftate  of  Parents  is  a  holy  ftate,  in  fome 
 degree  hke  that  of  the  Priefthood,  and  calls 
 upon  them  to  blefs  their  children  with  their 
 prayers  and  facrifices  to  God.  Thus  it  was 
 that  holy  Job  watch'd  over,  and  bleffed  his 
 .  children  ,    he  JanBify'd  therriy    he 
 
 ■^^'^  >*  ^*  roje  ti^  early  in  the  mor flings  and  oj^ 
 
 fer'd. 
 
to  a  Ve^voHt  Md  Holy  Life.  425 
 
 fer'd  barnt'ofer'wgSj  according  to  the  numher 
 of  them  all. 
 
 If  Parents  therefore ,  confidering  thcm- 
 felves  in  this  light,  fhould  be  daily  calling  up- 
 on God  in  a  foJenm^  deliberate  manner,  alter- 
 ing and  extending  their  interceflions,  as  the 
 ftate  and  growth  of  their  children  required, 
 fuch  Devotion  would  have  a  mighty  influence 
 upon  the  reft  of  their  lives;  it  would  make 
 them  very  circumfpcd  in  the  government  of 
 thcmfelves  ;  prudent  and  careful  of  every 
 thing  they  faid  or  did,  left  their  example 
 fhould  hinder  that,  which  they  fb  cojiftantly 
 dcfir'd  in-their  prayers. 
 
 If  a  father  was  daily  making  particular 
 prayers  to  God,  that  he  would  plcaie  to  in- 
 fpire  his  children  with  trtie  piety ^  great  humi- 
 lity^ TLnAftriB  temperance^  what  could  be  more 
 likely  to  make  the  father  himfelf  become  ex- 
 emplary in  thefe  virtues  ?  How  naturally 
 would  he  grow  alham'd  of  wanting  fuch  vir- 
 tues, as  he  thought  neceffary  for  his  children  ? 
 So  that  his  prayers  for  their  piety,  would  be 
 a  certain  means  of  exalting  his  own  to  its 
 greateft  height. 
 
 If  a  father  thus  confider*d  himfelf  as  an  in- 
 terceflbr  with  God  for  his  children,  to  blcis 
 them  with  his  prayers,  what  more  likely 
 means  to  make  him  afpire  after  every  degree 
 of  holinefs,  that  he  might  thereby  be  fitter 
 to  obtain  bleilings  from  Heaven  for  them? 
 How  would  fuch  thoughts  make  him  avoid 
 every  thing  that  was  fuiiul  and  diipleafing  to 
 J  God. 
 
4^^  ^  Seriovs  Call 
 
 God,  left  when  he  pray'd  for  his  children, 
 God  fnould  rejecl  his  prayers  ? 
 
 How  tenderly,  how  religioufly  would  fuch 
 a  father  converfe  with  his  children,  whom  he 
 confider'd  as  his  little  fpiritual  flock,  whole  vir- 
 tues he  was  to  form  by  his  example,  encourage 
 by  his  authority,  nourifh  by  his  couniel,  and 
 profper  by  his  prayers  to  God  for  them  ? 
 
 How  fearful  would  he  be  of  all  greedy  and 
 unjuft  ways  of  raifing  their  fortune,  of  bring- 
 ing them  up  in  pride  and  indulgence,  or  of 
 making  them  too  fond  of  the  world,  left  he 
 fliould  thereby  r<ender  them  incapable  of  thole 
 graces,  which  he  was  fo  often  beleeching  God 
 to  grant  them? 
 
 Thele  being  the  plain,  natural,  happy  ef- 
 fects of  this  interceflion,  all  parents,  I  hope, 
 who  have  the  real  welfare  of  their  children  at 
 heart,  who  defire  to  be  their  true  friends  and 
 benefaftors,  and  to  live  amongft  them  in  the 
 fpirit  of  wiidom  and  piety,  will  not  negleft 
 fo  great  a  means,  both  of  raifing  their  own 
 virtue,  and  doing  an  eternal  good  to  thofe, 
 who  are  fo  near  and  dear  to  them,  by  the 
 ftrongelt  ties  of  nature. 
 
 Laflly^  If  ail  people,  when  they  feel  the 
 lirft  approaches  of  refentment^  envy^  or  con-- 
 tempt^  towards  others ;  or  if  in  all  little  dii- 
 agreements,  and  mifunderftandings  whatever^ 
 they  fhould,  inftcad  of  indulging  their  minds 
 w4th  little  low  refleftions,  have  recourfe  at 
 fuch  times  to  a  more  particular  and  extraor-i. 
 
 dinary 
 
to  a  Vc'votit  and  Holy  Life.      427 
 
 dinary  interceJfTion  with  God,  for  luch  perfbns 
 as  had  rais'd  their  envy,  refentment,  or  dii- 
 content ;  this  would  be  a  certain  way  to  pre- 
 vent the  growth  of  all  uncharitable  tem- 
 pers. 
 
 If  you  was  alfb  to  form  your  prayer,  or  in- 
 terceflion  at  that  time,  to  the  greateft  degree 
 of  contrariety  to  that  temper  which  you  was 
 then  in,  it  would  be  an  excellent  means  of 
 raifing  your  heart  to  the  greateft  ftate  of  per- 
 feftion. 
 
 As  for  inftance,  when  at  any  time  you  find 
 in  your  heart  motions  of  envy  towards  any 
 peribn,  whether  on  account  of  his  rkhcs^ 
 power ^  reputation^  learnings  or  advancement^  if 
 you  Ihould  immediately  betake  your  felf  at 
 that  time  to  your  prayers,  and  pray  to  God 
 to  blefs  and  profper  him  in  that  very  things 
 which  rais'd  your  envy ;  if  you  fhould  exprels 
 and  repeat  your  petitions  in  the  ftrongell 
 terms,  befeeching  God  to  grant  him  all  the 
 happinels  from  the  enjoyment  of  it,  that  can 
 poiTibly  be  received,  you  would  loon  find  it  to 
 be  the  beft  antidote  in  the  world,  to  expel 
 the  venom  of  that  poifonous  paffion. 
 
 This  would  be  luch  a  triumph  over  your 
 felf,  would  lb  humble  and  reduce  your  heart 
 into  obedience  and  order,  that  the  devil  would 
 even  be  afraid  of  tempting  you  again  in  the 
 fame  manner,  when  he  law  the  temptation 
 turn'd  into  fo  great  a  means  of  amending  and 
 reforming  the  ftate  of  your  heart. 
 
 Jga'in^ 
 
4^8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 Jgatn^  If  in  any  little  difference  or  mifun- 
 derftandings  that  you  happened  to  have  at 
 any  time  with  a  relation^  a  neighhour^  or  any 
 one  elfe,  you  fliould  then  pray  for  them  in  a 
 more  extraordinary  manner^  than  you  ever 
 did  before ;  befceching  God  to  give  them  eve- 
 ry grace,  and  bkffing,  and  happinefs  you  can 
 think  of,  you  would  have  taken  the  fpeedieft 
 method  that  can  be,  of  reconciling  all  diffe- 
 rences, and  clearing  up  all  mifunderftand- 
 ings.  You  would  then  think  nothing  too 
 great  to  be  forgiven;  ftay  for  no  condelcen- 
 lions,  need  no  mediation  of  a  third  perfon, 
 but  be  glad  to  teftify  your  love  and  good-will 
 to  him,  who  had  fo  high  a  place  in  your  fe- 
 cret  prayers. 
 
 This  would  be  the  mighty  power  of  fuch 
 Chriftian  devotion ;  it  would  remove  all  pee- 
 vifh  pafiions,  foften  your  heart  into  the  moft 
 tender  condelcenfions,  and  be  the  beft  arbitra- 
 tor of  all  differences  that  happened  betwixt 
 you. and  any  of  your  acquaintance. 
 
 The  greateft  relentments  amongft  friends 
 and  neighbours  moft  often  arile  from  poor 
 p/j:BiIio'Sj  and  I'/ttle  77nflakes  in  conduft.  A 
 certain  fign  that  their  friendfhip  is  merely  hii^ 
 man^  not  founded  upon  religious  confiderati- 
 ons,  or  fupported  by  fuch  a  courfe  of  mutual 
 prayer  for  one  another,  as  the  firft  Chriftians 
 uied. 
 
 For  fuch  devotion  muft  necelTarily  either 
 deftroy  fuch  temperS;,  or  be  itfelf  deftroyed  by 
 them. 
 
 You 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  429 
 
 You  cannot  pofTibly  have  any  ill  temper,  or 
 Ihew  any  vmfcind  behaviour  to  a  man,  for 
 whole  welfare  you  are  lb  much  concerned,  as 
 to  be  his  advocate  with  God  in  private. 
 
 Hence  we  may  alio  learn  the  odious  nature 
 and  exceeding  guilt  of  all  Jpght^  hatred ^  con-- 
 tempt y  and  angry  fajjions ;  they  are  not  to  be 
 confidered  as  defefts  in  good  nature^  2.nd  Jiveet^ 
 nefs  of  temper,  not  as  failings  in  civility  of 
 manners,  or  good  breedings  but  as  fuch  baje 
 tempers  as  are  entirely  inconfiftent  with  the 
 charity  of  interceffion. 
 
 You  think  it  a  fmall  matter  to  be  peevifi  or 
 iJl-natiir'd  to  fuch  or  fuch  a  man  ;  but  you 
 Ihould  confider,  whether  it  be  a  fmall  matter 
 to  do  that,  which  you  could  not  do,  if  you 
 had  but  )^o  much  charity  as  to  be  able  to  re- 
 commend him  to  God  in  your  prayers. 
 
 You  think  it  a  fmall  matter  to  ridicule  one 
 man,  and  dejpife  another;  but  you  Ihould  con- 
 fider, whether  it  be  a  fmall  matter  to  want 
 that  charity  towards  thefe  people,  which  Chri- 
 ftians  are  not  allowed  to  want  towards  their 
 moft  inveterate  enemies. 
 
 For  be  but  as  charitable  to  thefe  men,  do 
 but  hlefs  and  pray  for  them,  as  you  are  obliged 
 to  blefs  and  pray  for  your  enemies^  and  then 
 you  will  find  that  you  have  charity  enough, 
 to  make  it  impoffible  for  you  to  treat  them 
 with  any  degree  of  fcorn  or  contempt.  |t> 
 
 For  you  cannot  pofhbly  delpife  and  ridicule 
 that  man,  whom  your  private  prayers  recom- 
 mend to  the  love  and  fayour  of  God. 
 
 When 
 
430  ^  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 When  you  defpile  and  ridicule  a  man,  it  is 
 with  no  other  end,  but  to  make  him  ridicu- 
 lous and  contemptible  in  the  eyes  of  other 
 men,  and  in  order  to  prevent  their  efteem  of 
 him.  How  therefore  can  it  be  poflible  for 
 you  finccrely  to  beTeech  God  to  blefs  that  man 
 with  the  honour  of  his  love  and  favour,  whom 
 you  defire  m.en  to  treat  as  worthy  of  their 
 contempt  ? 
 
 Could  you  out  of  love  to  a  neighbour,  de- 
 fire your  '^Prince  to  honour  him  with  every 
 mark  of  his  efteem  and  favour,  and  yet  at  the 
 lame  time  expofe  him  to  the  Icorn  and  derifi- 
 on  of  your  ov^n  fervants  ? 
 
 Yet  this  is  as  poffible,  as  to  expofe  that  man 
 to  the  Icorn  and  contempt  of  your  fellow- 
 creatures,  whom  you  recommend  to  the  favour 
 of  God  in  your  fecret  prayers. 
 
 From  theie  confiderations  we  may  plainly 
 
 difcover  the  reaibnablenefs  and  juftice  of  this 
 
 ^    .  doftrine  of  the  Gofpel,  Whofoever 
 
 jljall  fay  unto  his  brother^  Kacha^ 
 
 fjaU  be  in  danger  of  the  council ;  bat  whofoever 
 
 fall  fiy^  Thou  fool^  fall  be  in  danger  of  hell 
 
 fre. 
 
 We  are  not,  I  fuppofe,  to  believe  that  eve- 
 ry hafty  word,  or  unreafonable  expreffion,  that 
 flips  from  us  by  chance^  or  furfrize^  and  is 
 contrary  to  our  intention  and  tempers^  is  the 
 Igreat  fin  here  fignified. 
 
 But  he  that  lays,  Racha^  or  xX\o\xfool^  muft 
 chiefly  mean  him  that  allows  himfelf  in  deli^ 
 berate^  defgn'd  ads  oS.  fcom  and  contempt  XO'^ 
 
 wards 
 
to  a  Ve<vout  and  Holy  Life.      451 
 
 wards  his  brother,  and  in  that  temper  fpeaks 
 to  him,  and  of  him,  in  reproachful  language. 
 Now  fince  it  appears,  that  thele  tempers  arc 
 at  the  bottom  the  moft  rank  uncharltabknefsj 
 fince  no  one  can  be  guilty  of  them,  but  be- 
 cauie   he  has  not  charity  enough  to  pray  to 
 God  for  his  brother  ^  it  cannot  be  thought  hard, 
 or  rigorous  juftice,  that  fuch  tempers  fhould 
 endanger   the   lalvation  of  Chriftians.      For 
 who  would   think  it  hard,    that  a   Chriftian 
 cannot  obtain  the  favour  of  God  for  himlelf, 
 unlefs  he   reverence   and    efteem  his   brother 
 Chriftian,  as  one  that  bears  the  image  of  God, 
 as  one  for  whom  Chrift.  dy'd,  as  a  member  of 
 Chrift's  body,  as  a  member  of  that  holy  ibcie-/ 
 ty  on  earth,  which  is  in  union  with  that  tri- 
 umphant Church  in  heaven  ? 
 
 Yet  all  thele  confiderations  muft  be  forgot, 
 all  thele  glorious  privileges  difregarded,  before 
 a  man  can  treat  him  that  has  them,  as  an  ob- 
 jed  of  fcorn  and  contempt. 
 
 So  that  to  fcorn,  or  defpife  a  brother,  or, 
 as  our  bleffcd  Lord  fays,  to  call  hiin  Racha^  or 
 fool^  muft  be  iookYi  upon,  as  amongft  the 
 moft  odious,  unjuft,  and  guilty  tempers,  that 
 can  be  fupported  in  the  heart  of  a  Chriftian, 
 and  juftly  excluding  him  from  all  his  hopes  in 
 the  lalvation  of  Jelus  Chrift. 
 
 For  to  defpife  one  for  whom  Chrift  dy'd,  is 
 to  be  as  contrary  to  Chrift,  as  he  that  defpi- 
 fes  any  thing  that  Chrift  has  laid,  or  done. 
 
 If  a  Chriftian  that  had  liv'd  with  the  holy 
 Virgin  M//j,  Ihould,  after  the  death  of  our 
 
 Lord^ 
 
432  A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 Lord,  have  taken  any  occafion  to  treat  her 
 with  contempt,  you  would  certainly  fay,  that 
 he  had  loft  his  piety  towards  our  blcfled  Lord. 
 For  a  true  reverence  for  Chrift  muft  have  for- 
 ced him  to  treat  her  with  refped,  who  was  fo 
 nearly  related  to  him. 
 
 I  dare  appeal  to  any  man's  mind,  whether 
 it.  does  not  tell  him,  that  this  relation  of  the 
 Virgin  Mary  to  our  bleffed  Lord,  muft  have 
 obliged  all  thofe  that  lived  and  conversed  with 
 her,  to  treat  her  with  great  refpecl:  and  efteem. 
 Might  not  a  man  have  juftly  dreaded  the  ven- 
 geance of  God  upon  him,  for  any  fcorn  or 
 contempt  that  he  had  fliewn  to  her  ? 
 
 Now  if  this  be  plain  and  obvious  reafoning, 
 if  a  contempt  offered  to  the  Virgin  Mary  muft 
 have  been  interpreted  a  contempt  of  Chrift, 
 becaufe  of  her  near  relation  to  him,  then  let 
 the  fame  reafoning  fhew  you  the  great  impiety 
 of  defpifing  any  brother. 
 
 You  cannot  defpife  a  brother,  without  de- 
 Ipiiing  him  that  ftands  in  a  high  relation  to 
 God,  to  his  Sou  Jefus  Chrift,  and  to  the  holy 
 Trinity. 
 
 You  would  certainly  think  it  a  mighty  im- 
 piety to  treat  a  wrifmg  with  great  contempt, 
 that  had  been  written  by  the  Jingcr  of  God  ; 
 and  can  you  think  it  a  lefs  impiety  to  con- 
 temn and  vilify  a  brother,  who  is  not  only 
 the  worhmanjfjipj  but  the  image  of  God  ? 
 
 You  would  juftly  think  it  great  prophane- 
 nefs  to  contemn  and  trample  upon  an  Altar y 
 becaule  it  was  appropriated  tQ  holy  ufes,  and 
 
 hadi 
 
to  a  Tje'^jout  and  Holy  Life.        435 
 
 had  had  the  body  of  Chrifl:  Yo  often  placed 
 upon  it  ;  and  can  you  ilippofc  it  to  be  Ids 
 prophanenefs  to  fcorn  and  trample  upon  a  bro- 
 ther, who  fo  belongs  to  God,  that  his  very 
 body  is  to  be  confidered  as  the  ieni- 
 fle  of  the  Holy  Ghoft  P  '  ^'''•''-  '^■ 
 
 ,  Had  you  deipis'd  and  ill-treated  the  Virgin 
 Maryy  you  had  been  chargeable  with  the  im- 
 piety of  defpifing  her,  of  whom  Chrift  was 
 born.  And  if  you  Icorn  and  defpife  a  brother, 
 you  are  chargeable  with  the  impiety  of  deipi- 
 iing  him,  for  whom  Chrift  laid  down  his  life. 
 And  now  if  this  Icornful  temper  is  founded 
 upon  a  difregard  of  all  thefe  relations,  which 
 every  Chriftian  bears  to  God,  and  Chrift,  and 
 the  Holy  Trinity,  can  you  w^onder,  or  think 
 it  hard,  that  a  Chriftian  Vv^ho  thus  allows  him- 
 felf  to  defpife  a  brother,  ftiould  be  in  danger 
 of  hell  fire? 
 
 Secondly^  It  muft  here  be  obferved,  that 
 tho'  in  thefe  w^ords,  whofoever  fall  fay  ^  "Thou 
 jool^  &c.  the  great  fn  there  condemned  is  an 
 allowed  temp/^r  of  deipifing  a  brother ;  yet  we 
 are  alio  to  believe,  that  all  hajly  exprejjhnsy 
 and  words  of  contempt  tho'  iboken  by  far  prize 
 or  accident^  are  by  this  text  condemned  as 
 great  fins,  and  notorious  breaches  of  Chriftian 
 charity. 
 
 They  proceed  from  great  want  of  Chriftian 
 love  and  meekneis,  and  call  for  great  repen- 
 tance. They  are  only  little  fins,  when  com- 
 pared with  halnts  and  fettled  tempers  of  treat- 
 
 F  f  ins 
 
434  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 ing  a  brother  defpightfuUy,  and  fall  as  dired- 
 ]y  under  the  condemnation  of  this  text,  as 
 the  sfroiTeft  habits  of  uncharitablenefs. 
 
 And  the  reafon  why  we  are  always  to  ap- 
 prehend great  guilt,  and  call  ourfelves  to  a 
 ftrift  repentance  for  thefe  hafty  expreffions  of 
 anger  and  contempt,  is  this;  becaufe  they  fel- 
 dom  are  what  they  feem  to  be,  that  is,  mere 
 fiarts  of  temper,  that  were  occafion'd  purely 
 hy  ftir prize  or  accident^  but  are  much  more 
 our  own  proper  afts,  than  we  generally  ima- 
 gine. 
 
 A  man  fays  a  great  many  bitter  things  ;  he 
 prefently  forgives  himfelf,  becaufe  he  luppo- 
 les  it  was  only  the  fuddennefs  of  the  occafion, 
 or  fomething  accidental^  that  carry'd  him  fo 
 far  beyond  himfelf. 
 
 But  he  ftiould  confider,  that  perhaps  the  aC'- 
 ctdentj  or  farprtze^  was  not  the  occafion  of 
 his  angry  expreffions,  but  might  only  be  the 
 occafion  of  his  angry  temper  fhewing  itfelf. 
 
 Now  as  this  is,  generally  fpeaking,  the  cafe, 
 2.^  z!^  haughty  ^  angry  language  generally  pro- 
 ceeds from  fbme  fecret  habits  of  pride  in  the 
 heart;  fb  people  that  are  fubjed  to  it,  tho' 
 only  now  and  then  as  accidents  happen,  have 
 great  reafon  to  repent  of  more  than  their  pre- 
 fent  behaviour,  to  charge  themfelves  with 
 greater  guilt  than  accidental  paflion,  and  to 
 bring  themfelves  to  fuch  penance  and  morti- 
 fication, as  is  proper  to  deltroy  habits  of  a 
 haughty  fpirit. 
 
 And 
 
to  a  ^e^oHt  and  Holy  Life.      455 
 
 And  this  may  be  the  reafon,  why  the  text 
 looks  no  farther  than  the  outvvard  language  ; 
 why  it  only  lays,  Whofoever  jhall  fay^  Thou 
 fool\  becaule  few  can  proceed  ^o  far,  as  to  the 
 accidental  ufe  of  haughty^  d'lfdainfal  language, 
 but  they  whole  hearts  are  more  or  lefs  poffcfs'd 
 with  habits  and  fettled  tempers  of  pride  and 
 haughtinefs. 
 
 But  to  return.  Interceffion  is  not  only  the 
 beft  arbitrator  of  all  differences,  the  beft  pro^ 
 moter  of  true  friendfhip,  the  beft  cure  and 
 prefervative  againft  all  unkind  tempers,  all  an- 
 gry and  haughty  paffions,  but  is  alio  of  great 
 ufe  to  dilcover  to  us  the  true  ftate  of  our  own 
 hearts. 
 
 There  are  many  tempers  which  we  think 
 lawful  and  innocent^  which  we  never  fufpcd  of 
 any  harm  ;  which,  if  they  were  to  be  try'd 
 by  this  devotion,  would  ibon  fhew  us  how  we 
 have  deceived  ourlelvcs. 
 
 Sufurrus  is  a  pious,  temperate,  good  man, 
 remarkable  for  abundance  of  excellent  quali- 
 ties. No  one  more  conftant  at  the  fervice  of 
 the  Church,  or  whofe  heart  is  more  affeded 
 with  it.  His  charity  is  fo  great,  that  he  al- 
 moft  ftarvcs  himfelf,  to  be  able  to  give  greater 
 alms  to  the  poor. 
 
 Yet  Sifurrus  had  a  prodigious  filling  along 
 with  thefe  great  virtues. 
 
 He  had  a  mighty  inclination  to  hear  and 
 difcover  all  the  defers  and  infirmities  of  all 
 about  him.  You  was  welcome  to  tell  him 
 any  thing  of  any  body,  provided  that  you  did 
 
 F  f  2  not 
 
45^  A  Serious   Call 
 
 not  do  It  in  the  flile  of  an  cnemv.  He  neveg 
 diflik'd  an  cvil-fpeaher  ^  but  wlien  his  lan*» 
 guage  was  rough  and  pafflonate.  If  you  would 
 but  whifpcr  any  thing  gently,  though  it  was 
 ever  lb  bad  in  it  felfj  Sujhrrus  was  ready  to 
 receive  it. 
 
 When  he  vifits,  you  generally  hear  him  re- 
 lating ,  how  lorry  he  is  for  the  defefts  and 
 liiilings  of  fuch  a  neighbour.  He  is  always 
 letting  you  know  how  tender  he  is  of  the  re- 
 putation of  his  neighbour ;  how  loth  to  fay 
 that  which  he  is  forc'd  to  fay,  and  how  glad- 
 ly he  would  conceal  it,  if  it  could  be  con- 
 ceard. 
 
 Siifiirrus  had  Inch  a  tender,  compaffionate 
 manner  of  relating  things  the  moft  prejudicial 
 to  his  neighbour,  that  he  even  feem'd,  both 
 to  himfelf  and  others,  to  be  exercifing  a  chri- 
 fiian  charity,  at  the  fame  time  that  he  was 
 indulging  a  whilpering ,  evil-fpeaking  tem- 
 per. 
 
 Sufurrus  once  whifper'd  to  a  particular  friend 
 in  great  fecrecy,  fomething  too  bad  to  be 
 fpoke  of  publickly.  He  ended  with  faying, 
 how  glad  he  was,  that  it  had  not  yet  took 
 wind,  and  that .  he  had  fome  hopes  it  might 
 not  be  true,  though  the  fufpicions  were  very 
 ftrong.     His  friend  made  him  this  reply : 
 
 You  fay,  SufurruSy  that  you  are  glad  it 
 has  not  yet  taken  wind  j  and  that  you  have 
 fome  hopes  it  may  not  prove  true.  Go  home 
 therefore  to  your  clofetj  and  pray  to  God  for 
 this  man,  in  fuch  a  manner,  and  with  fuch 
 
 ■<■  eameft- 
 
to  a  J)cvoiit  and  Holy  Life.        457 
 
 earneflnefs,  as  you  would  pray  for  your  lelf 
 on  the  like  occafion. 
 
 Befeech  God  to  interpofe  in  his  favour,  to 
 fave  him  from  falfe  accufers ,  and  bring  all 
 thofe  to  Ihame,  wlio  by  iDichar'itiihJe  whifpersy 
 2inAJecret  JtorieSy  wound  him,  like  thole  that 
 ftab  in  the  dark.  And  when  you  have  made 
 this  prayer,  then  you  may,  if  you  pleafe,  go 
 tell  the  fame  lecret  to  fome  other  friend,  that 
 you  have  told  to  me. 
 
 Sufurrus  was  exceedingly  affcfted  with  this 
 rebuke,  and  felt  the  force  of  it  upon  his  con- 
 Icience  in  as  lively  a  manner,  as  if  he  had 
 feen  the  hooks  open'd  at  the  day  of  Judg- 
 ment. 
 
 All  other  arguments  might  have  been  re- 
 fifted;  but  it  was  impoflible  for  Sufurrus 
 either  to  rejed,  or  to  follow  this  advice,  w^ith- 
 out  being  equally  felf-condemn'd  in  the  high- 
 eft  degree. 
 
 From  that  time  to  this,  he  has  conftantly 
 us*d  himfelf  to  this  method  of  interceilion  ; 
 and  his  heart  is  fo  entirely  chang'd  by  it,  that 
 he  can  now  no  more  privately  whilper  any 
 thing  to  the  prejudice  of  another,  than  he 
 can  openly  pray  to  God  to  do  people  hurt. 
 
 Whifperings  and  evil-fpeakings  now  hurt 
 his  ears,  like  oaths  and  curfes;  and  he  has 
 appointed  one  day  in  the  week,  to  be  a  day 
 of  penance  as  long  as  he  lives ,  to  humble 
 himlelf  before  God,  in  the  Ibrrowful  confef. 
 fion  of  his  former  guilt. 
 
 Ff3  It 
 
43S  A  Serious  Call 
 
 It  may  well  be  wonder'd,  how  a  man  of  fo 
 much  piety  as  Sufurrus^  could  be  fo  long  de- 
 ceived in  himlelf,  as  to  live  in  fuch  a  Hate  of 
 fcandal  and  evil-fpeaking^  without  fufpefting 
 himfelf  to  be  guilty  of  it.  But  it  was  the 
 tendernefs  and  leeming  comfajfion  with  which 
 he  heard  and  related  every  thing,  that  deceived 
 both  himfelf  and  others. 
 
 This  was  a  falfcnefs  of  heart,  which  was 
 only  to  be  fully  dilcover'd,  by  the  true  charity 
 of  Intercejjion. 
 
 And  if  people  of  virtue,  who  think  as  lit- 
 tle harm  of  themlelves,  as  Siijurriis  did,  were 
 often  to  try  their  fpirit  by  fuch  an  mtercejjton^ 
 they  v/ouJd  often  find  themlelves  to  be  luch^ 
 as  they  leaft  of  all  fufpeded. 
 
 I  have  laid  before  you,  the  many  and 
 great  advantages  of  Intercejjion,  You  have 
 ieen  what  a  divine  friendfhip  it  mull  needs 
 beget  amongft  Chriftians,  how  dear  it  would 
 render  all  relations,  and  neighbours  to  one 
 another;  how  it  tends  to  make  Clergy  men  j 
 Mafters^  and  ^are?itSj  exemplary  and  perfed 
 in  all  the  duties  of  their  ftation  ;  how  certain- 
 ly it  deftroys  all  envy,  fpight,  and  ill-natur'd 
 pailiong ;  how  Ipeedily  it  reconciles  all  diffe- 
 rences, and  with  what  a  piercing  light  it  dil- 
 covers  to  a  man  the  true  ftate  of  his  heart. 
 
 Thefe  coniiderations  will,  I  hope,  perfuade 
 you  to  make  iuch  interceffion  as  is  proper  for 
 your  ftate,  the  conjiant^  chiej  matter  of  your 
 ilevotion  at  this  hour  of  prayer. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life      439 
 
 CHAP.    XXIL 
 
 Recommeiidtng  Devotion  at  three  o'Cloch^  cciWd 
 in  Scripture  the  ninth  hour  of  the  day,  The 
 fuhjeB  of  prayer  at  this  hour^  is  refignation 
 Jto  the  divine  pleafure,  "The  nature  and  duty 
 of  conformity  to  the  will  of  God  in  all  our 
 anions  and  dejigns^ 
 
 I  Have  recommended  certain  fnbjecls  to  be 
 made  the  fix'd  and  chief  matter  of  your 
 Devotions,  at  all  the  hours  of  prayer  that 
 have  been  already  confider'd. 
 
 As  than'kfgtvi7ig^  and  oblation  of  your  felf 
 to  God,  at  your  firfl:  prayers  in  the  morning. 
 At  nine^  the  great  virtue  of  Chriftian  humi'- 
 lity  is  to  be  the  chief  part  of  your  petitions ; 
 at  twelve^  you  are  calTd  upon  to  pray  for  all 
 the  graces  of  univerfal  love^  and  to  raife  it  in 
 your  heart  by  fuch  general  and  particular  i;;- 
 tercejjionsy  as  your  own  itate,  and  relation  to 
 other  people,  feem  more  particularly  to  re- 
 quire of  you. 
 
 At  this  hour  of  the  afternoon,  you  are  de- 
 fir'd  to  confider  the  neceffity  of  rejignation  and 
 conformity  to  the  will  of  God,  and  to  make 
 this  great  virtue  the  principal  matter  of  your 
 prayers. 
 
 There  Is  nothing  "doife^  or  holy^  or  jtif^  but 
 the  great  will  of  God.     This  is  as  ftridly  true 
 
 Ff  4  ia 
 
44 o  A  Serious   Call 
 
 in  the  mcft  rigid  fenfe,  as  to  fay,  that  no^ 
 thing  is  infinite  and  eternal  but' God. 
 
 No  beings  therefore,  whether  in  Heaven, 
 or  on  earth,  can  be  wife,  or  holy,  orjuft,  but 
 lb  fir  as  they  conform  to  this  will  of  God.  It 
 is  conformity  to  this  will,  that  gives  virtue 
 and  perfection  to  the  hi2;heft  fervices  of  anQxls 
 in  Heaven ;  and  it  is  conformity  to  the  fame 
 will,  that  makes  the  ordinary  aftions  of  men 
 on  earth,  become  an  acceptable  fervice  unto 
 God. 
 
 The  whole  nature  of  virtue  confifts  in  con- 
 forming, and  the  whole  nature  of  vice  in  de- 
 clining from  the  will  of  God.  All  God's 
 creatures  are  created  to  fulfil  his  will ;  the 
 Sun  and  Mcon  obey  his  will,  by  the  neceflity 
 of  their  nature^  ^;;^<?/i  conform  to  his  will, 
 by  the  perfeftion  of  their  nature  :  If  there- 
 fore you  would  fliew  your  felf  not  to  be  a 
 rebel  ^nd  apojiate  from  the  order  of  the  crea- 
 tion, you  muft  aft  like  beings  both  above  and 
 below  you  ;  it  muft  be  the  great  defire  of 
 your  foul,  that  God's  will  may  be  done  by 
 vou  on  earth,  as  it  is  done  in  heaven.  It 
 rnuft  be  the  lettled  purpofe  and  intention  of 
 your  heart,  to  will  nothing,  dejign  nothing, 
 do  nothing,  but  fo  far  as  you  have  rcafon  to 
 believe,  that  it  is  the  will  of  God,  that  you 
 fliould  lb  defire,  dcfign  and  do. 
 
 'Tis  as  juft  and  ncceffary  to  live  in  this  ftate 
 of  heart,'  to  think  thus  of  God  and  your 
 felf,  as  to  think  that  you  have  any  depen- 
 ^ancf'  uiDon  ^'  *    is  as  great  a  rebel- 
 
 I  lioa 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.         4^1 
 
 lion  againft  God,  to  think  that  your  will  may 
 ever  differ  from  his,  as  to  think  that  you  have 
 not  received  the  povv^er  of  wiHing  from  him. 
 
 You  are  therefore  to  confider  your  felf  as  a 
 being,  that  has  no  other  bufinefs  in  the  world, 
 but  to  be  that  which  God  requires  you  to  be ; 
 to  have  no  tempers,  no  rules  of  your  own, 
 to  feek  no  felf-defigns,  or  felf-ends,  but  to  fill 
 fome  place^  and  aft  fome  fart  in  ftricl  confor- 
 mity, and  thankful  refignation  to  the  divine 
 pleaJure. 
 
 To  think  that  you  are  your  own,  or  at 
 your  own  difpofal,  is  as  ablurd  as  to  think 
 that  you  created,  and  can  preferve  your  felf. 
 It  is  as  plain  and  neceflary  a  firit  principle,  to 
 believe  you  are  thus  God's,  that  you  thus  be- 
 long to  him,  and  are  to  ad  and  liaffer  all  in  a 
 thankful  refignation  to  his  pleafure,  as  to  be- 
 lieve, that  in  him  you  Uve^  and  fnove^  and 
 have  your  being, 
 
 Rejtgnation  to  the  divine  will ,  fignifies  a 
 chearful  approbation,  and  thankful  acceptance 
 of  every  thing  that  comes  from  God.  It  is 
 not  enough  patiently  to  fubmit,  but  we  muft 
 thankfully  receive,  and  fully  approve  of  every 
 thing,  that  by  the  order  of  God's  providence 
 happens  to  us. 
 
 For  there  is  no  realbn  why  we  fliould  be 
 patient,  but  what  is  as  good  and  fl:rong  a  rea- 
 lbn why  w^e  fliould  be  thankful.  If  we  were 
 under  the  hands  of  a  v/ife  and  good  "T^hyftcian^ 
 that  could  not  miftake,  or  do  any  thing  to 
 as,  but  what  certainly  tended  to  our  benefit ; 
 
 it 
 
44-  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 it  would  not  be  enough  to  be  patient,  and 
 abftain  from  murmuring  againft  fuch  a  Phyfi- 
 cian;  but  it  would  be  as  great  a  breach  of 
 duty  and  gratitude  to  him,  not  to  be  pleas'd 
 and  thankful  for  what  he  did,  as  it  would  be 
 to  murmur  at  him. 
 
 Now  this  is  our  true  ftate  with  relation  to 
 God ;  we  can't  be  faid  fo  much  as  to  believe  in 
 him,  unlefs  we  believe  him  to  be  of  injinitc 
 wifdom.  Every  argument  therefore  for  pati- 
 ence under  his  difpofal  of  us,  is^  as  ftrong  an 
 argument  for  approbation  and  thankfulnefs 
 for  every  thing  that  he  does  to  us.  And 
 there  needs  no  more  to  difpole  us  to  this  gra- 
 titude towards  God ,  than  a  full  belief  in 
 him,  that  he  is  this  being  of  infinite  wifdom, 
 love  and  goodneis. 
 
 Do  but  affent  to  this  truth,  in  the  fame 
 manner  as  you  affent  to  things  of  which  you 
 have  no  doubt,  and  then  you  will  chearfully 
 approve  of  every  thing,  that  God  has  already 
 approved  for  you. 
 
 For  as  you  cannot  poflibly  be  pleas'd  with 
 the  behaviour  of  any  perfon  towards  you,  but 
 becaufe  it  is  for  your  good,  is  wife  in  its  felf, 
 and  the  effed  of  his  love  and  goodnefs  to- 
 wards you;  fo  when  you  are  fatisfy'd  that 
 God  does  not  only  do  that  which  is  wife,  and 
 good,  and  kind,  but  that  which  is  the  effed 
 of  an  infinite  wifdom  and  love  in  the  care  of 
 you  ;  it  will  be  as  neceffary,  whilft  you  have 
 this  faith,    to  be  thankful  and  pleas'd  with 
 
 every 
 
I 
 
 to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      443 
 
 every  thing  which  God  chufes  for  you,  as  to 
 wifii  your  own  happineis. 
 
 Whenever  therefore  you  find  your  felf  diC- 
 pos'd  to  tmeafinefs^  or  tnurmunng  at  any  thing, 
 that  is  the  efFed  of  God's  providence  over  you, 
 you  rnuft  look  upon  your  felf  as  denying  ei- 
 ther the  wifdom  or  goodnels  of  God.  For 
 every  complaint  neceifarily  fuppolcs  this. 
 You  would  never  complain  of  your  nelghhoiir^ 
 but  that  you  fuppole  you  can  Ihew  either  his 
 iinw'tfej  unjujiy  or  unkind  behaviour  towards 
 you. 
 
 Now  every  murmuring,  impatient  reflexi- 
 on under  the  providence  of  God,  is  the  lame 
 accufation  of  God.  A  complaint  always  fup- 
 pofes  ///  tifage. 
 
 Hence  alio  you  may  fee  the  great  neceffity 
 and  piety  of  this  thankful  ftate  of  heart,  bc- 
 caufe  the  want  of  it  implies  an  accufation  of 
 God's  want  either  of  wildom,  or  goodnefs,  in 
 his  difpofal  of  us.  It  is  not  therefore  any 
 high  degree  of  perfection,  founded  in  any 
 uncommon  nicety  of  thinking,  or  rejin'd  noti- 
 ons^ but  a  plain  principle,  founded  in  this 
 plain  belief,  that  God  is  a  being  of  infinite 
 wifdom  and  goodnels. 
 
 Now  this  refignation  to  the  divine  will, 
 may  be  confider'd  in  two  refpeds  •  Vtrji^  As 
 it  fignifies  a  thankful  approbation  of  God's 
 general  providence  over  the  world  :  Secondly ^ 
 As  it  fignifies  a  thankful  acceptance  of  his 
 f  articular  providence  over  us, 
 
 Virjiy 
 
444  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 Fir/lj  Every  man  is  by  the  law  of  his  crea- 
 tion/by  the  firft  article  of  his  creed,  obliged 
 to  confent  to,  and  acknowledge  the  wifdoni 
 and  goodncfs  of  God,  in  his  general  frov't- 
 dence  over  the  whole  world.  He  is  to  believe 
 that  it  is  the  effed  of  God*s  great  wifdom  and 
 goodnefs,  that  the  world  it  felf  was  fotm'd  at 
 fuch  a  particular  time,  and  in  iuch  a  manner. 
 That  the  general  order  of  nature,  the  whole 
 frame  of  things,  is  contrived  and  form'd  in 
 the  beft  manner.  He  is  to  believe  that  God's 
 providence  over  ftates  and  kingdoms,  times 
 and  feafcns,  is  all  for  the  beft.  That  the  re- 
 volutions of  ftate,  and  changes  of  empire, 
 the  rife  and  fall  of  monarchies,  perfecutions, 
 wars,  famines,  and  plagues,  are  all  permitted, 
 and  conduded  by  God's  providence,  to  the 
 general  good  of  man  in  this  ftate  of  trial. 
 
 A  o:ood  man  is  to  believe  all  this,  with 
 the  fame  fulnefs  of  aflent,  as  he  believes  that 
 God  is  in  every  place,  though  he  neither  fees, 
 nor  can  comprehend  the  manner  of  his  pre- 
 fence. 
 
 This  is  a  noble  magnificence  of  thought,  a 
 true  religious  greatnels  of  mind,  to  be  thus 
 ^ffefted  with  God's  general  providence,  admi- 
 ring and  magnifying  his  wifdom  in  all  things  ^ 
 never  murmuring  at  the  courfe  of  the  world, 
 or  the  ftate  of  things,  but  looking  upon  all 
 around,  at  heaven  and  earth,  as  a  pleased 
 fpedlator ;  and  adoring  that  invifible  hand , 
 which  gives  laws  ta  all  motions^    and  over^ 
 
 rules 
 
to  a  Tje'voni  and  Holy  Life.  44^ 
 
 rules    all    events    to    ends    fuitablc    to    the 
 higheft  wilclom  and  p;oodncfs. 
 
 It  is  very  common  for  people  to  allow  them- 
 felves  great  liberty  in  finding  fault  with  fuch 
 things,  as  have  only  God  for  their  caufe. 
 
 Every  one  thinks  he  may  jullly  fay,  what 
 a  wretched^  ahominahle  climate  he  lives  in. 
 This  man  is  frequently  telling  you,  what  a 
 difmal^  ciirfed  day  it  is,  and  what  intolerable 
 feajtius  we  have.  Another  thinks  he  has  very 
 little  to  thank  God  for,  that  it  is  hardly  worth 
 his  while  to  live  in  a  world  fo  full  of  changes 
 and  revolutions.  But  thefe  are  tempers  of 
 great  impiety,  and  fhew  that  religion  has  not 
 yet  its  feat  in  the  heart  of  thole  that  have 
 them. 
 
 It  founds  indeed  much  better  to  murmur 
 at  the  courfe  of  the  world,  or  the  ftate  of 
 things,  than  to  murmur  at  providence ;  to 
 complain  of  the  fealbns  and  weather,  than  to 
 complain  of  God ;  but  if  thefe  have  no  other 
 caufe  but  God  and  his  providence,  it  is  a  poor 
 diftindion  to  lay,  that  you  are  only  angry  at 
 the  things,  but  not  at  the  caufe  and  diredor 
 of  them. 
 
 How  j acred  the  whole  frame  of  the  world 
 is,  how  all  things  are  to  be  confider'd  as  God's, 
 and  referred  to  him,  is  fully  taught  by  our 
 bleffed  Lord  in  the  cafe  of  oaths :  But  I  fay 
 tint 0  you ^  Swear  not  at  all  \  neither 
 by  heaven  J  for  it  is  God's  throne  j  •  'd?- 
 
 nor  by  the  earthy  for  it  is  his  foot jlool  '^  neither 
 hj  Jerufale?7Jy  for  it  is  the  city  of  the  great 
 
 King ; 
 
/^^6  A  Serious  Call 
 
 K'tug ;  neither  jh^lt  thoufwear  hy  thy  head^  be'-' 
 cauje  thou  cavfi  not  make  one  hair  zvhite  or  black  ; 
 that  IS,  becaufe  the  whitenefs  or  blacknefs  of 
 thy  hair  is  not  thine,  but  God's. 
 
 Here  you  fee  all  things  in  the  whole  order 
 of  nature,  from  the  higheft  heayens  to  the 
 fmalleft  hair,  are  always  to  be  confidered,  not 
 feparately  as  they  are  in  themfelves,  but  as  in 
 Ibme  relation  to  God.  And  if  this  be  good 
 reafoningj  thou  Ihalt  not  fwear  by  the  earthy 
 a  r//v,  or  thy  ha'tr^  becaufe  thefe  things  are 
 God's,  and  in  a  certain  manner  belong  to  him; 
 is  it  not  exactly  the  lame  reafoning  to  fay, 
 Thou  fhalt  not  murmur  at  the  feaj'ons  of  the 
 earth,  the  ftates  of  cities,  and  the  change  of 
 funes^  becaufe  all  thefe  things  are  in  the  hands 
 of  God,  haye  him  for  their  Author,  are  di- 
 rected and  governed  by  him  to  fuch  ends,  as 
 are  moft  fui  table  to  his  wife  Providence  ? 
 
 If  you  think  you  can  murmur  at  the  ftate 
 of  things  without  murmuring  at  Providence, 
 or  complain  of  feafons  without  complaining 
 of  God  ^  hear  what  our  blelTed  Lord  fays  farther 
 upon  oaths:  Whofo Jhall Jhear  by 
 Mat.xxiiL2o.  ^^^  altar,  feveareth  by  it,  and  by  all 
 things  thereon  :  and  whofo  Jhall  fwear  by  the 
 temple,  Jwcareth  by  him  that  dwelleth  therein  : 
 and  he  that  Jhall  fwear  by  heaven,  fwear eth  by 
 the  throne  of  God,  and  by  hitn  that  fitteth 
 thereon. 
 
 Now  does  not  this  Scripture  plainly  oblige 
 us  to  reafon  after  this  manner  :  Whofo  mur- 
 murs at  the  courfe  of  the  world,  murmurs  at 
 
 God 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      ^^y 
 
 God  that  governs  the  courfe  of  the  world. 
 Wholb  repines  at  fcajons  and  weather^  and 
 fpeaks  impatiently  of  times  and  events,  re- 
 pines and  fpeaketh  impatiently  of  God,  who 
 is  the  Ible  Lord  and  Governor  of  tmes^  fea^ 
 fons^  and  events. 
 
 As  therefore  when  we  think  of  God  himfelf, 
 we  are  to  have  no  fentiments  but  of  praife  and 
 thankfgiving ;  fo  when  we  look  at  thole 
 things  which  are  under  the  direftion  of  God, 
 and  governed  by  his  Providence,  we  are  to  re- 
 ceive them  with  the  fame  tempers  of  praife 
 and  gratitude. 
 
 And  though  we  are  not  to  think  all  things 
 right,  and  juft,  and  lawful,  which  the  Provi- 
 dence of  God  permits  ;  for  then  nothing  could 
 be  unjuft,  becaufe  nothing  without  his  permil- 
 fion :  yet  we  muft  adore  God  in  the  greateft 
 publick  calamities,  the  molt  grievous  perle- 
 cutions,  as  things  that  are  fuffer'd  by  God, 
 like  plagues  and  famines^  for  ends  fuitable  to 
 his  wifdom  and  glory  in  the  government  of 
 the  w^orld. 
 
 There  is  nothing  more  luitable  to  the  piety 
 of  a  reafonable  creature,  or  the  fpirit  of  a 
 Chrillian,  than  thus  to  approve,  admire,  and 
 glorify  God  in  all  the  acts  of  his  general  Pro- 
 vidence:  confidering  the  whole  world  as  his 
 particular  family,  and  all  events  as  directed  by 
 his  wifdom. 
 
 Every  one  feems  to  confent  to  this,  as  an 
 undeniable  truth.  That  all  things  mufl  be  as 
 Qod  pleafes  j  and  is  not  this  enough  to  make 
 
 every 
 
44^  ^  Serious  C  A  L  t 
 
 every  man  pleased  with  them  himfelf?  And 
 how  can  a  man  be  a  peevifh  complainer  of  any 
 thing  that  is  the  cffcd  of  Providence,  but  by 
 Ihewing  that  his  own  /elf-will  and  felf-wlfdom 
 is  of  more  v/cight  with  him,  than  the  will 
 -and  wildom  of  God  ?  And  what  can  Religion 
 be  faid  to  have  done  for  a  man,  whofe  heart 
 is  in  this  ftate  ? 
 
 For  if  he  cannot  thank  and  praife  God,  as 
 \vell  in  calamities  and  fufferings,  as  in  profpe- 
 rity  and  happinefs,  he  is  as  far  from  the  piety 
 of  a  Chriftian,  as  he  that  only  loves  them  that 
 love  him,  is  from  the  charity  of  a  Chriftian, 
 For  to  thank  God  only  for  fuch  things  as  you 
 like,  is  no  more  a  proper  a6t  of  piety,  than 
 to  believe  only  what  you  fee,  is  an  aft  of 
 faith. 
 
 Refignation  and  thankfgiving  to  God  are 
 only  ads  of  piety,  when  they  are  afts  o^faithj 
 trp.fi  and  conjidence  in  the  divine  Goodnels. 
 
 The  faith  of  Abraham  was  an  aft  of  true 
 piety,  becaufe  it  ftopp'd  at  no  difficulties,  was 
 not  altered  or  leflen'd  by  any  human  appear- 
 ances. It  firft  of  all  carry'd  him,  againft  all 
 fliew  of  happinefs,  from  his  own  kindred  and 
 country,  into  a  ftrange  land,  not  hiowtng  whl^ 
 ther  he  went.  It  afterwards  made  him  againft 
 all  appearances  of  nature,  when  his  body  was 
 dead^  when  he  was  about  an  hundred  years  old^ 
 depend  upon  the  promife  of  God,  being  fully 
 ferjiiadedy  that  -what  God  had  promts' d^  he  was 
 able  to  perform.  It  was  this  fame  faith,  that 
 againft  fo  many  ple^s  of  nature^  io  many- 
 appear- 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.     4^j(j 
 
 ?^pearances  of  reafon,  prevaird  upon  him  to 
 
 oj^er  up  Jfcuic accountinz  that     ^t  .    . 
 
 God  zvas  able  to  raije  him  up  jrom  ^ 
 
 the  dead. 
 
 Now  this  faith  is  the  true  pattern  of  Chri- 
 ftian  refignation  to  the  divine  pleafure;  you 
 are  to  thank  and  praife  God,  not  only  for 
 things  agreeable  to  you,  that  have  the  appear- 
 ance of  happinefs  and  comfort  *  but  when  you 
 are  like  Abraham^  called  from  all  appearances 
 of  comfort,  to  be  a  pilgrim  in  a  ftrange  land, 
 to  part  with  an  only  Jon ;  being  as  fully  perfua- 
 ded  of  the  divine  Goodnefs  in  all  things  that 
 happen  to  you,  as  Abraham  was  of  the  divine 
 promile,  w^hcn  there  was  the  leaft  appearance 
 of  its  being  performed. 
 
 This  is  true  Chriftian  refignation  to  God, 
 v^'hich  rerjuires  no  more  to  the  fupport  of  it, 
 than  fuch  a  plain  affurance  of  the  goodnefs  of 
 God,  as  Abraham  had  of  his  veracity.  And 
 if  you  ask  yourielf,  what  greater  reafon  Abra^ 
 ham  had  to  depend  upon  the  divine  Veracity, 
 than  you  have  to  depend  upon  the  divine 
 Goodnefs,  you  will  find  that  none  can  be 
 given. 
 
 You  cannot  therefore  look  upon  this  as  aa 
 unneceffary,  high  pitch  of  perfection,  fince 
 the  want  of  it  implies  the  want  not  of  any  high 
 notions,  but  of  a  plain  and  ordinary  faith  in 
 the  moft  certain  doctrines  both  of  natural  and 
 reveal'd  religion. 
 
 Thus  much  concerning  refignation  to  the 
 divine  Will;  as  it  fignifies  a  thankful  appro- 
 
 G  g  bation 
 
4^0  A  Serious  Call 
 
 bation  of  God's  general  frov/der/ce :  It  is  now 
 to  be  confider'd,  as  it  fignilies  a  thankful  ac- 
 ceptance of  God's  particular  frov'idencc  over  us. 
 
 Every  man  is  to  conlider  himfelf  as  a  par- 
 ticular objeft  of  God's  providence  \  under  the 
 fame  care  and  protection  of  God,  as  if  the 
 world  had  been  made  for  him  alone.  It  is 
 not  by  chance  that  any  man  is  born  at  fuch  a 
 fime^  of  fuch  parents^  and  in  fuch  flace  and 
 coUiVit'wn.  It  is  as  certain,  that  every  foul 
 comes  into  the  body  at  fuch  a  time,  and  in 
 fuch  circumftances,  by  the  exprefs  defignraent 
 of  God,  according  Mofomepurpofes  of  his  will, 
 and  for  Ibme  particular  ends  ^  this  is  as  certain, 
 as  that  it  is  by  the  exprefs  defignment  of  God^ 
 that  fome  beings  are  Jngehy  and  others  are 
 men. 
 
 It  is  as  much  by  the  counfel  and  eternal 
 purpofe  of  God,  that  you  fhould  be  born  in 
 your  particular  ftate,  and  that  Ifaac  fhould  be 
 the  fon  of  Jhraham^  as  that  Gabriel  ihould  be 
 an  Jngely  and  Ifaac  a  man. 
 
 The  Scriptures  aiTure  us,  that  it  was  by  di- 
 vine appointment,  that  our  blelTed  Saviour  was 
 born  at  Bethlehem^  and  at  fuch  a  time.  Now' 
 altho'  it  was  owing  to  the  dignity  of  his  per- 
 fon,  and  the  great  importance  of  his  birth, 
 that  thus  much  of  the  divine  counfel  was  de- 
 clared to  the  world  concerning  the  time  and 
 manner  of  it;  yet  we  are  as  fure  from  the 
 fame  Scriptures,  that  the  time  and  manner  of 
 every  man's  coming  into  the  world,  is  accord- 
 ing to  fome  eternal  purpofes  and  direB'wn  of 
 
 Diving 
 
to  a  Deposit  and  Holy  Life.      451 
 
 Divine  Providence,  and  mfuch  t'lme^  and  flace^ 
 and  arcumftances^  as  are  direfted  and  governed 
 by  God  for  particular  ends  of  his  wildom  and 
 goodneis. 
 
 This  we  are  as  certain  of  from  plain  revela- 
 tion, as  we  can  be  of  any  thing.  For  if  we 
 are  told,  that  not  a  fparrow  falleth  to  the 
 ground  ivitbcut  our  heavenly  Father ;  can  any 
 thing  more  ftrongly  teach  us,  that  much  greater 
 beings,  fuch  as  human  Ibuls^  come  not  into 
 the  world  without  the  care  and  diredion  of  our 
 heavenly  Father  ?  If  it  is  faid,  the  very  hatrs 
 of  your  head  are  all  number' d'^  is  it  not  to 
 teach  us,  that  nothing,  not  xh^fmalleft  things 
 imaginable,  happen  to  us  by  chance?  But  if 
 the  imalleft  things  we  can  conceive,  are  declared 
 to  be  under  the  divine  diredion,  need  we,  or 
 can  we  be  more  plainly  taught,  that  the  great- 
 eft  things  of  life,  fuch  as  the  manner  of  our 
 coming  into  the  world,  our  parents^  the  thney 
 and  other  circumjlances  of  our  birth  and  con- 
 dition, are  all  according  to  the  eternal  purpofes^ 
 dtreBhn  and  appointment  of  Divine  Provi- 
 dence? 
 
 When  the  dilciples  put  this  queftion  to  our 
 bleffed  Lord  concerning  the  blind  xnanyfaying^ 
 Majier^  who  did  fin^  this  man^  or  his  parentSy 
 that  he  was  born  blind?  He  that  was  the  eter- 
 nal Wifdom  of  God  made  this  anfwer.  Neither 
 hath  this  man  finned^  nor  his  pa--  t  h  '  - 
 rents'^  but  that  the  works  of  God  -   'l- 
 
 Jhould  be  m.ade  v^anifeft  in  him.     Pliiinly  ^Jecla- 
 ring,  that  the  particular  circumltances  of  .:v^cry 
 G  g  2  man's 
 
^t^2  A  Serious  C  a  iTl 
 
 man's  birth,  tlic  body  that  he  received,  arrd 
 the  condition  and  ftate  of  life  into  which  he  is 
 bom,  arc  appointed  by  a  fccret  Providence, 
 which  directs  all  things  to  their  particular  tnnes 
 ^nd  [eafons^  and  manner  of  exiftence^  that  the 
 wifdom  and  works  of  God  may  be  made  ma- 
 nifcft  in  them  all. 
 
 As  therefore  it  is  thu3  certain,  that  we  are 
 what  we  are,  as  to  birth,  time,  and  condition 
 of  entring  into  the  world  ;  fince  all  that  is 
 particular  in  our  ftate,  is  the  effeft  of  God's 
 particular  piovidence  over  us^  and  intended  for 
 fome  particular  ends  both  of  his  glory  and  our 
 own  happinefs,  we  are  by  the  greateft  obliga* 
 tions  of  gratitude,  called  upon  to  conform  and 
 refign  our  will  to  the  will  of  God  in  all  thefe 
 refpefts;  thankfully  approving  and  accepting 
 every  thing  that  is  particular  in  our  ftate. 
 Praifing  and  glorifying  his  name  for  our  birth 
 of  fuch  parents^  and  in  fuch  clrcumfiances  of 
 ftate  and  condition ;  being  fully  affur'd,  that 
 it  was  for  fome  reaibns  of  infinite  wifdom  and 
 goodnefs,  that  we  were  lb  born  into  fuch  par- 
 ticular ftates  of  life. 
 
 If  the  man  above-mention'd ,  was  born 
 blind,  that  the  works  of  God  might  be  mani' 
 fefted  In  hlmy  had  he  not  great  realbn  to  prailc 
 God,  for  appointing  him  in  fuch  a  particular 
 manner,  to  be  the  inftrument  of  his  Glory  ? 
 And  if  one  perfbn  is  born  herej  and  another 
 there  \  if  one  falls  amongft  riches ^  and  ano- 
 ther into  poverty ;  if  one  receives  his  flefti 
 and  blood  from  thefe  parents^  and  another 
 
 from 
 
to  a  Devout  a?Hl  Holy  Life,        453 
 
 fit)m  thofe,  for  as  particular  ends,  as  the  man 
 was  born  blind ;  have  not  all  people  the  great- 
 efl  reafon  to  blefsGod,  and  to  be  thanklbl  for 
 their  f  articular  ft  ate  and  cond'itwn^  becaufe  all 
 that  is  particular  in  it,  is  as  directly  intended 
 for  the  glory  of  God,  and  their  own  good,  as 
 the  fiirticuhtr  hl'indnefs  of  that  man,  who  was 
 lb  born,  that  the  works  of  God  might  be  mani-^ 
 jefted  in  h'lm  ? 
 
 How  noble  an  idea  does  this  give  us  of  the 
 divine  Omnifcience  prefiding  over  the  whole 
 world,  and  governing  fuch  a  long  chain  and 
 combination  of  feemtng  accidents  and  chan- 
 ces, to  the  common  and  particular  advantage 
 of  all  beings  ?  So  that  all  perlbns,  in  fuch  a 
 wonderful  variety  of  caufes,  accidents  and 
 events ,  fhould  all  fall  into  fuch  particular 
 ftates,  as  were  forefeen ,  and  fore-ordain'd  to 
 their  beft  advantage,  and  lb  as  to  be  moft  ier- 
 viceable  to  the  wife  and  glorious  ends  of  God's 
 government  of  all  the  world. 
 
 Had  you  been  any  thing  elfe  than  what 
 you  are,  you  had,  all  things  confider'd,  been 
 lefs  wifely  provided  for  than  you  are  now; 
 you  had  wanted  fome  circumftances  and  con- 
 ditions, that  are  beft  fitted  to  make  you  hap- 
 py your  felf,  and  ierviceablc  to  the  glory  of 
 God. 
 
 Could  you  fee  all  that  which  God  ^zts^  all 
 that  happy  chain  of  caufes  and  motives  which 
 are  to  move  and  invite  you  to  a  right  courfe 
 €>i  life,   you  would  fee  fomcthing  to  make 
 
 Gg  3  you 
 
4154  -^  Serious  C  A  L  £ 
 
 you  like  that  Hate  you  arc  in,  as  fitter  for  yot! 
 than  any  other. 
 
 Bat  as  you  cannot  fee  this,  fb  it  is  here 
 that  your  Chriftian  faith  and  truji  in  God,  i^ 
 to  exercife  it  felf,  and  render  you  as  gratefal 
 and  thankful  for  the  happinefs  of  your  ftate, 
 as  if  you  law  every  thing  that  contributes  to 
 it  with  your  own  eyes. 
 
 But  now  if  this  is  the  cafe  of  every  man  in 
 the  world,  thus  blcffed  with  fome  particular 
 ftate  that  is  moft  convenient  for  him,  how 
 reafonable  is  it  for  every  man  to  will  that 
 which  God  has  already  wilFd  for  him?  And 
 by  a  pious  ftith  and  truft  in  the  divine  good- 
 nefs,  thankfully  adore  and  magnify  that  wife 
 providence,  which  he  is  fure  has  made  the 
 beft  choice  for  him  of  thofe  things,  which  he 
 could  not  chufe  for  himfelf. 
 
 Every  uneafinefs  at  our  own  ftate,  is  found- 
 ed upon  comparing  it  with  that  of  other  peo- 
 ple. Which  is  full  as  unreafonable,  as  if  a 
 man  in  a  dropfy  ftiould  be  angry  at  thofe  that 
 prefcribe  different  things  to  him,  from  thofe 
 which  are  prefcrib'd  to  people  in  health.  For 
 all  the  different  ftates  of  li^^e  are  like  the  diffe- 
 rent ftates  of  dijhafes^  what  is  a  remedy  to 
 one  man  in  his  ftate,  may  be  poifon  to 
 another. 
 
 So  that  to  murmur  becaufe  you  arc  not  as 
 fome  others  are,  is  as  if  a  man  in  one  difeafe 
 ftiould  murmur  that  he  is  not  treated  like 
 him  that  is  in  another,     Whereas  if  he  >vas  to 
 
 hav^ 
 
40  a  Dcruout  aficl  Holy  Life.       455 
 
 have  his  will,  he  would  be  kfird  by  that, 
 which  will  prove  the  cure  of  another. 
 
 It  is  juft  thus  in  the  various  conditions  of 
 life;  if  you  give  your  felf  up  to  uncafinefs, 
 or  complain  at  any  thing  in  your  ftatc,  you 
 may,  for  ought  you  know,  be  ib  ungrateful 
 to  God,  as  to  inurmur  at  that  very  thing, 
 which  is  to  prove  the  caufe  of  your  lalva- 
 tion. 
 
 Had  you  it  in  your  power  to  get  that 
 which  you  think  it  lb  grievous  to  want^  it 
 might  perhaps  be  that  very  thing,  which  of 
 all  others,  would  moft  expofe  you  to  eternal 
 damnation. 
 
 So  that  whether  we  confider  the  infinite 
 goodnefs  of  God,  that  cannot  chufe  amifs  lor 
 us,  or  our  own  great  ignorance  of  what  is 
 moft  advantageous  to  us ,  there  can  be  no* 
 ^hing  fo  rcalbnable  and  pious,  as  to  have  no 
 will  but  that  of  God's,  and  defire  nothing  for 
 our  ielves,  in  our  ferjons^  our  flate^  and  con^ 
 ditioHy  but  that  which  the  goo(i  providence  of 
 God  appoints  us. 
 
 Farther,  as  the  good  providence  of  God 
 thus  introduces  us  into  the  world,  into  u-ch. 
 ftates  and  conditions  of  lii'e,  as  are  moft  con^ 
 v^nient  for  us,  lb  the  Hime  unerring  wiidom 
 orders  all  events  and  changes  in  the  whole 
 courfe  of  our  lives,  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  co 
 render  them  the  ficteft  means  to  exercife  and 
 iinprov^  our  virtue. 
 
 Gg  4  Nothing 
 
4<^ 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 Nothing  hurts  us,  nothing  deftroys  us,  but 
 the  ill  ufe  of  that  liberty,  with  which  God 
 has  entrufted  us. 
 
 We  are  as  fure  that  nothing  happens  to  us 
 by  chance,  as  that  the  world  it  lelf  was  not 
 made  by  chance ;  w^e  are  as  certain  that  all 
 things  happen,  and  work  together  for  our 
 good,  as  that  God  is  goodnefs  it  lelf.  So  that 
 a  mail  has  as  much  realbn  to  will  every  thing 
 that  happens  to  him,  becauie  God  wills  it,  as 
 to  think  that  is  wifeft,  which  is  directed  by 
 infinite  wifdom. 
 
 This  is  not  cheating  or  foothing  our  felves 
 into  any  falle  content,  or  imaginary  happi- 
 nefs ;  but  is  a  fatisfadion  grounded  upon  as 
 great  a  certainty,  as  the  being  and  attributes 
 of  God. 
 
 For  if  we  are  right  in  believing  God  to  act 
 over  us  with  infinite  wifdom  and  goodnefs, 
 we  cannot  carry  our  notions  of  conformity 
 and  refignation  to  the  divine  will  too  high ; 
 nor  can  we  ever  be  deceived,  by  thinking  that 
 to  be  beft  for  us,  which  God  has  brought  up- 
 on us. 
 
 For  the  providence  of  God  is  not  more  con- 
 cerned in  the  government  of  night  and  ^ay^ 
 and  the  variety  oi  feafons^  than  in  the  com- 
 mon courfe  of  events,  that  fcem  moft  to  de- 
 pend upon  the  mere  wills  of  micn.  So  that  \t 
 is  as  ftriclly  right,  to  look  upon  all  worldly 
 accidents  and  changes,  all  the  various  turns 
 and  alterations  in  your  own  life,  to  be  as  truly 
 the  eficds  of  Diving  Pjovidence^  as  the  rifing 
 
 and 
 
to  a  Ve^ont  and  Holy  Life.      4^7 
 
 tind  fetting  of  the  Sun,  or  the  alterations  of 
 the  feafons  of  the  year.  As  you  are  therefore 
 always  to  adore  the  wildom  of  God  in  the  di- 
 reftion  of  thefe  things  ;  i^o  it  is  the  lame  rea- 
 Ibnable  duty,  always  to  magnify  God,  as  an 
 equal  Direftor  of  every  thing  that  happens  to 
 you  in  the  courfe  of  your  own  hfe. 
 
 This  holy  refignation  and  conformity  of 
 your  will  to  the  will  of  God,  being  l^o  much 
 the  true  ttatc  of  piety,  I  hope  you  will  think 
 it  proper  to  make  this  hour  of  prayer,  a  con- 
 ftant  feafon  of  applying  to  God  for  fb  great 
 a  gift.  That  by  thus  conftantly  praying  for 
 it,  your  heart  may  be  habitually  difpos'd  to- 
 wards it,  and  always  in  a  ftate  of  readinefs  to 
 look  at  every  thing  as  God's,  and  to  cqnfider 
 him  in  every  thing  ;  that  fo  every  thing  that 
 befals  you,  may  be  received  in  the  fpirit  of 
 piety,  and  made  a  means  of  exercifing  fome 
 virtue. 
 
 There  is  nothing  that  fb  powerfully  governs 
 the  heart,  that  i^o  ftrongly  excites  us  to  wife 
 and  reafbnable  actions,  as  a  true  fenfe  of  God's 
 frejence.  But  as  we  cannot  fee,  or  apprehend 
 the  elTence  of  God,  ^o  nothing  will  lb  con- 
 ftantly keep  us  under  a  lively  fenie  of  the 
 prefence  of  God,  as  this  holy  refignation, 
 which  attributes  every  thing  to  him,  and  re- 
 ceives every  thing  as  from  him. 
 
 Could  we  fee  a  miracle  from  God ,  how 
 would  our  thoughts  be  affected  with  an  holy 
 avye  and  veneration  of  his  pretence !  But  if 
 we  confider  eyery  thing  as  God's  doing,  either 
 
45S 
 
 A  SerioHs  Call 
 
 by  order  or  permilTion,  wc  fhall  then  be  aC- 
 fcded  with  common  things y  as  they  would  be 
 who  law  a  mtracle. 
 
 For  as  there  is  nothing  to  affed  you  in  a 
 miracle,  but  as  it  is  the  a^tm  of  God,  and 
 befpeaks  his  prejence ;  Ilo  when  you  confidcr 
 God,  as  aBing  in  all  things,  and  all  events, 
 then  all  things  will  become  venerable  to  you, 
 \\kc  mtrctcles^  and  fill  you  with  the  fame  aw- 
 ful fentimcnts  of  the  divine  prefence. 
 
 Now  you  muft  not  referve  the  exercife  of 
 this  pious  temper,  to  any  particular  times  or 
 occafions,  or  fancy  hovv^  refign'd  you  Vvill  be  to 
 God,  if  luch  or  llich  trials  fhould  happen. 
 For  this  is  amufing  your  felf  with  the  notion 
 or  idea  of  refignation,  inftead  of  the  virtue 
 it  felf. 
 
 Don't  therefore  pleafe  your  felf  with  think- 
 ing, how  pi oufly  you  would  act  and  fubmit 
 to  God  in  a  plague^  a  jamtne^  or  ferfeciitlon^ 
 but  be  intent  upon  the  perfection  of  the 
 prefent  day;  and  be  affury,  that  the  belt 
 way  of  fhewing  a  true  zeal^  is  to  make  Vtttle 
 things  the  occafions  of  great  piety. 
 
 Begin  therefore  in  the  fmallefl:  matters, 
 ^nd  moft  ordinary  occafions,  and  accuftom 
 your  mind  to  the  daily  exercife  of  this  pious 
 temper,  in  the  loweft  occurrences  of  life.  And 
 when  a  contempt^  an  afront^  a  little  Injury^ 
 lofsy  or  difappointmenty  or  the  fnialleft  events 
 of  every  day,  continually  raife  your  mind  to 
 God  in  proper  ads  of  refignation,  then  you 
 may  juftly  hope,  that  you  fhall  be  number'd 
 
 amongft 
 
to  ^  VcvoHt  and  Holy  Life,      4159 
 
 amongft  thofe  that  are  refiga'd  and  thankful 
 to  God  in  the  grcatcll  trials  and  afflictions. 
 
 CHAP.     XXIIL 
 
 Of  Evening  prayer.  Of  the  iiattire  and  jiecejfity  of 
 cxaminatmu  How  we  are  to  he  particular  in 
 the  coffejjion  of  all  our  Jins.  How ,  we  are 
 to  fill  our  fninds  with  a  jujf  horror  and  dread 
 of  all  fin. 
 
 I  Am  now  come  to  fix  o'clock  in  the  even- 
 ing, which  according  to  tlie  Scripture  ac- 
 count, is  caird  the  twelfth,  or  lafi  hour  of 
 the  day.  This  is  a  time  fo  proper  for  Devo- 
 tion, that  I  fuppofe  nothing  need  be  faid  to 
 recommend  it  as  a  fealbn  of  prayer,  to  all 
 people  that  profefs  any  regard  to  piety. 
 
 As  the  labour  and  action  of  every  Hate  of 
 life  is  generally  over  at  this  hour,  fo  this  is 
 the  proper  time  for  every  one  to  call  himfelf 
 to  account,  and  review  all  his  behaviour,  from 
 the  firft  aftion  of  the  day.  The  ncceffity  of 
 this  examination,  is  founded  upon  the  nccet 
 fity  of  repentance.  For  if  it  be  necelTary  to 
 repent  of  all  our  fins,  if  the  guilt  of  unre-e 
 pented  fins  Hill  continues  upon  us,  then  it  is 
 neceflary,  not  only  that  all  our  fins,  but  the 
 particular  circumftances  and  aggravations  of 
 
 them, 
 
4^o  A  Serious  Call 
 
 them,  be  known  and  rccolkfted,  and  broxight 
 to  repentance. 
 
 The  Scripture  laith,  If  we  confefs  our  Jtns^ 
 .     .  he  IS  faithful  ajtd  jufi  to  forgive  us 
 
 join  1.  9.  oar  fins  ^  and  to  cleanfe  us  from  all 
 tinr'ighteoufnefs.  Which  is  as  much  as  to  lay, 
 that  then  only  our  fins  are  forgiven,  and  we 
 clcansM  from  the  guilt  and  unrighteoufnefs  of 
 them,  when  they  are  thus  confefs'd,  and  re- 
 pented of. 
 
 There  feems  therefore  to  be  the  greateft  nc- 
 ceffity,  that  all  our  daily  aftions  be  conftant- 
 ly  oblerv'd,  and  brought  to  account,  left  by  a 
 negligence  v/e  load  our  lelves  with  the  guilt  of 
 unrepented  fins. 
 
 This  examination  therefore  of  outfelves 
 every  evening,  is  not  only  to  be  confider'd  as 
 a  commendable  rule^  and  fit  for  a  wife  man  to 
 obferve,  but  as  Ibmething  that  is  as  neceffary 
 as  a  daily  confeflion  and  repentance  of  bur 
 fins-  becaufe  this  daily  repentance  is  of  very 
 little  fignificancy,  and  loles  all  its  chief  bene- 
 fit, unlefs  it  be  a  fsirttcular  confejfton  and  re- 
 pentance of  the  fins  of  that  day.  This  exami* 
 nation  is  neceflfaiy  to  repentance  in  the  fame 
 manner  h«  t'lme  is  necelfary ;  you  cannot  re- 
 pent or  exprefs  your  forrow,  unlefs  you  allow 
 Ibme  time  for  it ;  nor  can  you  repent,  but  lb 
 far  as  you  knovo  what  it  is  that  you  are  repent- 
 ing  of.  So  that  when  it  is  faid,  that  it  is  ne- 
 cefl^ary  to  examine  and  call  your  adions  to  ac- 
 count 3  it  is  only  laying,  that  it  is  necelfary 
 
 to 
 
to  a  Vcvoiit  and  Holy  Life.       j^6i 
 
 to  know  whaty  and  hozv  many  things  you  are 
 to  repent  of. 
 
 You  perhaps  have  hitherto  only  ufed  your 
 lelf  to  confefs  yourfelf  a  Tinner  in  general^  and 
 ask  forgiveneis  in  the  grojs^  without  any  par^ 
 tkular  renumhrance^  or  contrition  for  the  par- 
 ticular fins  of  that  day.  And  by  this  pradicc 
 you  are  brought  to  believe,  that  the  lame 
 fliort,  general  form  of  confedion  of  fin  in  ge- 
 neral,  is  a  fufficient  repentance  for  every  day. 
 
 Suppole  another  perJbn  fhould  hold,  that  a 
 confeffion  of  our  fins  in  general  once  at  the  end 
 of  every  zveek  was  fufficient ;  and  that  it  was 
 as  well  to  confefs  the  fins  oi  feven  days  all  to- 
 gether, as  to  have  a  particular  repentance  at 
 the  end  of  every  day. 
 
 I  know  you  fufficiently  fee  the  unreafonable- 
 nefs  and  impiety  of  this  opinion,  and  that  you 
 think  it  is  eafy  enough  to  ftiew  the  danger  and 
 folly  of  it. 
 
 Yet  you  cannot  bring  one  argument  againft 
 fuch  an  opinion,  but  what  will  be  as  good  an 
 argument  againft  fuch  a  dally  repentance^  as 
 does  not  call  the  particular  Jins  of  that  day  to 
 a  ftricl:  account. 
 
 For  as  you  can  bring  no  cxprefs  text  of  Scri- 
 pture againft  fuch  an  opinion,  but  muft  take 
 all  your  arguments  from  the  nature  of  repen^ 
 tance^  and  the  necelTity  of  a  particular  repen- 
 tance for  particular  fins,  fo  every  argument  of 
 that  kind,  muft  as  fully  prove  the  neceflity  of 
 being  very  particular  in  our  repentance  of  the 
 fins  of  every  day.  Since  nothing  can  be  ^uftly 
 2  faid 
 
4^2  A  Serious  Call 
 
 liiid  againft  leaving  the  fins  of  the  "j^hole  'Weeh 
 to  be  repented  for  in  the  grofs^  but  what  may 
 as  juftly  be  laid  againft  a  daily  repentance, 
 which  confiders  the  fins  of  that  day  only  in 
 the  grofs. 
 
 Would  you  tell  fuch  a  man,  that  a  daily 
 confeffion  was  neceflfary  to  keep  up  an  abhor- 
 rence of  fin,  that  the  mind  w^ould  grow  har- 
 dened and  fenfelefs  of  the  guilt  of  fin  without 
 it  ?  And  is  not  this  as  good  a  reafon  for  requi- 
 ring that  your  daily  repentance  be  very  exprefs 
 and  particular  for  your  daily  fins?  For  if  con- 
 feffion is  to  raife  an  abhorrence  of  fin,  furely 
 that  confeffion  which  conjiders  and  lays  opefj 
 your  particular  fins,  that  brings  them  to  light 
 wdth  all  their  circumftances  and  aggravations^ 
 that  requires  a  particular  forrowful  acknow- 
 ledgment of  every  fin,  muft  in  a  much  greater 
 degree  fill  the  mind  wuth  an  abhorrence  of 
 fin,  than  that  w^hich  only  in  ofie  and  the  Jhne 
 jorm  of  words  confefljbs  you  only  to  be  a  finner 
 in  general.  For  as  this  is  nothing  but  what  the 
 greateji  Saint  may  juftly  fay  of  himfelf,  fo  the 
 daily  repeating  of  only  fuch  a  confeffion,  has 
 nothing  in  it  to  make  you  truly  afliamed  of 
 your  own  way  of  life. 
 
 Again  ;  muft  you  not  tell  fuch  a  man,  that 
 by  leaving  himfelf  to  fuch  a  weekly^  general 
 confeffion,  he  would  be  in  great  danger  of  for- 
 getting a  great  many  of  his  fins  ?  But  is  there 
 any  fenle  or  force  in  this  argument,  unlefs  you 
 fuppofe  that  our  fins  are  all  to  be  remembered, 
 and  brought  to  a  partiguUr  repentance  ?  And 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      /^6:^ 
 
 is  it  not  as  necclTary,  that  our  particular  fins  be 
 not  forgotten,  but  particularly  remcmbcr'd  ia 
 our  daily,  as  in  a  repentance  at  any  other 
 time? 
 
 So  that  every  argument  for  a  daily  confel- 
 lion  and  repentance,  is  the  lame  argument  for 
 the  confeffion  and  repentance  of  the  partkukir 
 fins  of  every  day. 
 
 Becaufe  daily  confeffion  has  no  other  realbn 
 or  neceffity,  but  our  daily  fins;  and  therefore 
 is  nothing  of  what  it  fhouki  be,  but  fo  far  as 
 it  is  a  repentance  and  forrowful  acknovv4edg- 
 Bient  of  the  fins  of  the  day. 
 
 You  would,  I  fuppofe ,  think  yourfelf 
 chargeable  with  great  impiety,  if  you  Vv'as  to 
 go  to  bed  without  confeffing  yourfelf  to  be  a 
 linner,  and  asking  pardon  of  God ;  you  would 
 not  think  it  fufRcient  that  you  did  ib  yefter- 
 day.  And  yet  if  without  any  regard  to  the 
 prefent  day,  you  only  repeat  the  lame  form 
 of  words  that  you  ufed  yeftcrday,  the  fins  of 
 the  prefent  day  may  juftly  be  looked  upoa  ta 
 have  had  no  repentance.  For  if  the  fins  of 
 the  prefent  day  require  a  new  confeffion,  it 
 mull  be  fuch  a  new  confeffion  as  is  proper  to 
 itfelf  For  it  is  xhcjiate  and  condition  of  eve- 
 ry day,  that  is  to  determine  the  ff ate  and  man-^ 
 ner  of  your  repentance  in  the  evening;  other- 
 wife  the  fame  general  form  of  words  is  rather 
 an  empty  formality,  that  has  the  appearance 
 of  a  duty,  than  fuch  a  true  performance  of  it, 
 as  is  neccflary  to  make  it  tiuly  uleful  to  you. 
 
4^4 
 
 A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 Let  it  be  fuppofcd,  that  on  a  certain  day 
 you  have  been  guilty  of  thele  fins ;  that  you 
 have  told  a  vain  lye  upon  yourfelf,  alcribing 
 fomething  fallcly  to  yourfelf  through  pride ; 
 that  you  have  been  guilty  of  detrahton^  and 
 indulg'd  yourfelf  in  fame  degree  of  intempe- 
 lance.  Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  on  the  next 
 day  you  have  lived  in  a  contrary  manner^  that 
 you  have  neglected  no  duty  of  devotion,  and 
 been  the  reft  of  the  day  innocently  employed 
 in  your  proper  bufinefs.  Let  it  be  fuppofed, 
 that  on  the  evening  of  both  thefe  days  you 
 only  ufe  the  fame  confeflion  in  general^  confi- 
 dering  it  rather  as  a  duty  that  is  to  be  per- 
 form'd  every  night,  than  as  a  repentance  that 
 is  to  be  fuited  to  the  particular  Ji ate  oi  \hQ 
 day. 
 
 Can  It  with  any  reafbn  be  faid,  that  each 
 day  has  had  its  proper  repentance  ?  Is  it  not 
 as  good  fenle  to  lay,  there  is  no  difference  in 
 the  guilt  of  thefe  days,  as  to  fay  that  there 
 need  be  no  different  repentance  at  the  end  of 
 them  ?  Or  how  can  each  of  them  have  its  pro- 
 per repentance,  but  by  its  having  a  repentance 
 as  large  and  extenlive,  and  particular,  as  the 
 guilt  of  each  day  ? 
 
 Again,  let  it  be  fuppos'd,  that  in  that  day, 
 when  you  had  been  guilty  of  the  three  noto- 
 rious fins  abovc-mention'd,  that  in  your  even- 
 ing repentance,  you  had  only  caird  one  of 
 them  to  mind.  Is  it  not  plain,  that  the  other 
 two  are  unrepented  of,  and  that  therefore 
 their  guilt  Hill  abides  upon  you?    So  that 
 
 you 
 
to  a  De^/oHt  and  Holy  Life.        4^5 
 
 y^u  are  then  in  the  ftate  of  him,  who  com- 
 mits himfclf  to  the  night  without  the  repen- 
 tance for  fuch  a  day,  as  had  betray'd  him 
 into  two  fach  great  fins. 
 
 Now  thefe  are  not  needlefs  particulars,  or 
 fuch  fcrupulous  niceties,  as  a  man  need  not 
 trouble  himlelf  about;  but  arc  fuch  plain 
 truths,  as  efTentially  concern  the  very  life  of 
 piety.  For  if  repentance  is  ncceffary,  it  is  full 
 as  neceffary  that  it  be  rightly  performed,  and 
 in  due  manner. 
 
 And  I  have  entered  into  all  thefe  particulars^ 
 only  to  fhew  you  in  the  plaineft  manner,  that 
 examination^  and  a  careful  review  of  all  the 
 aftions  of  the  day,  is  not  only  to  be  looked 
 upon  as  a  good  rule,  but  as  iomething  as  ne- 
 cefTary  as  repentance  itfelf. 
 
 If  a  man  is  to  account  for  his  expcnccs  at 
 night,  can  it  be  thought  a  needlefs  exaclneis 
 in  him,  to  taJce  notice  of  every  particular  ex^ 
 pence  in  the  day  ? 
 
 And  if  a  man  is  to  repent  of  his  fins  at 
 flight,  can  it  be  thought  too  great  a  piece  of 
 Icrupulofity  in  him,  to  know  and  call  to  mind 
 what  fins  he  is  to  repent  of? 
 
 Farther ;  tho'  it  Ihould  be  granted,  that  a 
 confeffion  in  general  may  be  a  lufficient  repen- 
 tance for  the  end  of  fuch  days,  as  have  only 
 the  unavoidable  frailties  of  our  nature  to  la- 
 ment; yet  even  this  fully  proves  the  abfolute 
 neceffity  of  this  felf-examination  :  for  with- 
 out this  examination,  who  can  know  that  he 
 has  gone  thro'  any  day  in  this  maaner  ? 
 
 H  h  Again  J 
 
/^66  A  SerioHs  Call 
 
 Again  :  An  evening  repentance,  which  thus 
 brings  all  the  actions  of  the  day  to  account,  is 
 not  only  ncceiiiuy  to  wipe  off  the  guilt  of 
 fin,  but  is  alio  the  moft  certain  way  to  amend 
 and  perfed  our  lives. 
 
 For  it  is  only  luch  a  repentance  as  this,  that 
 touches  the  heart,  awakens  the  confcience, 
 and  leaves  an  horror  and  deteftation  of  fin 
 upon  the  mind. 
 
 For  inftance:  If  it  fhould  happen,  that  up- 
 on any  particular  evening,  all  that  you  could 
 charge  yourielf  w^ith  Ihould  be  this,  viz.  a 
 i)a/Iy^  negligent  performance  of  your  devotions, 
 or  too  much  time  fpent  in  an  impertinent  con-' 
 verfatwn'^  \^  the  unrealbnablenels  of  thefe 
 things  were  fully  refleded  upon,  and  acknow- 
 ledged ;  if  you  was  then  to  condemn  yourfelf 
 before  God  for  them,  and  implore  his  pardon 
 and  affifting  grace,  what  could  be  fo  likely  a 
 means  to  prevent  your  falling  into  the  lame 
 faults  the  next  day  ? 
 
 Or  if  you  fhould  fall  into  them  again  the 
 next  day ;  yet  if  they  were  again  brought  to 
 the  fame  examination  and  condemnation  in 
 the  prefence  of  God,  their  happening  again 
 would  be  fuch  a  proof  to  you  of  your  own 
 folly  and  weakncfs^  would  caufe  liich  a  pain  and 
 remorfc  in  your  mind,  and  fill  you  with  fuch 
 fijame  and  confujion  at  yourfelf,  as  would  in  all 
 probability  make  you  exceedingly  defirous  of 
 greater  perfection. 
 
 Now  in  the  cafe  of  repeated  fins,    this 
 would  be  the  certain  benefit  that  we  fliould 
 
 receiy^ 
 
to  a  ^cvoHt  and  Holy  Life.      4^7 
 
 receive  from  this  examination  and  confellion ; 
 the  mind  would  thereby  be  made  humble, 
 full  of  forrow  and  deep  compunction,  and  by- 
 degrees  forced  into  amendment. 
 
 Whereas  a  jormal^  general  confefHon,  that 
 is  only  confider'd  as  an  evening  duty,  that 
 overlooks  the  particular  miftakes  of  the  day, 
 and  is  the  fame  whether  the  day  be  Ipent  ill 
 or  well,  has  little  or  no  effed  upon  the  mind ; 
 a  man  may  ufe  fuch  a  daily  confeflion,  and  yet 
 go  on  finning  and  confeffing  all  his  life,  with- 
 out any  remorfe  of  mind,  or  true  defire  of 
 amendment. 
 
 For  if  your  own  particular  fins  are  left  out 
 of  your  confeflion,  your  confeffing  of  fin  in 
 general  has  no  more  effed  upon  your  mind, 
 than  if  you  had  only  confefs'd,  that  all  men 
 in  general  2st  Jinners,  And  there  is  nothing 
 in  any  confeflion  to  fliew  that  it  is  yours,  but 
 fo  far  as  it  is  a  fclf-accnfatlonj  not  of  fin  in 
 general,  or  fuch  as  is  common  to  all  others, 
 h\xt  o?  i\\c\\  particular  Jins^  as  are  your  own 
 proper  fiame  and  reproach. 
 
 No  other  confeflion,  but  fuch  as  thus  dilco- 
 vers  and  accufes  your  own  particular  guilt, 
 can  be  an  act  of  true  forrow,  or  real  concern 
 at  your  own  condition.  And  a  confeflion  that 
 is  without  this  forrow  and  compundion  of 
 heart,  has  nothing  in  it  either  to  atone  for 
 pafl:  fins,  or  to  produce  in  us  any  true  refor- 
 mation and  amendment  of  life. 
 
 To  proceed ;  in  order  to  make  this  exami- 
 jR^tJLQa  ftill  farther  beneficial,  every  m^n  fiioul4 
 
 K  h  ^  oblige 
 
X^6^  A  Serious    C  A  L  L 
 
 oblige  himlelf  to  a  certain  method  in  it.  As 
 every  man  has  Ibmething  particular  in  his  na- 
 ture, ftrongcr  inclinations  to  fome  vices  than 
 others,  Ibme  infirmities  that  Jiick  clofer  to 
 him,  and  are  harder  to  be  conquered  than 
 others;  and  as  it  is  as  caly  for  every  man  to 
 know  this  of  himfelf,  as  to  know  whom  he 
 likes,  or  diflikes;  fo  it  is  highly  neceflary, 
 that  thefe  particularities  of  our  natures  and 
 tempers  fliould  never  efcape  a  fevere  trial  at 
 our  evening  repentance :  I  fay,  2i  fevere  trial^ 
 becaule  nothing  but  a  rigorous  feverity  againft 
 thefe  natural  tempers,  is  fufficient  to  conquer 
 them. 
 
 They  are  the  right  eyes^  that  are  not  to  be 
 fpared ;  but  to  be  plucked  out  and  caft  from 
 us.  For  as  they  are  the  infirmities  of  nature, 
 fo  they  have  the  ftrength  of  nature,  and  mull 
 be  treated  with  great  oppofition,  or  they  will 
 loon  be  too  ftrong  for  us. 
 
 He  therefore  who  knows  himfelf  moft  of 
 all  fubjed  to  aiiger  and  pajjion^  mull  be  very 
 €xa^  and  conflant  in  his  examination  of  this 
 temper  every  evening.  He  mull  find  out 
 every  flip  that  he  has  made  of  that  kind, 
 whether  in  thought,  or  word,  or  aftion;  he 
 nwx^Jhame^  and  reprdach^  and  accufe  himfelf 
 before  God,  for  every  thing  that  he  has  laid 
 or  done  in  obedience  to  his  paffion.  He  muft 
 no  more  allow  himfelf  to  forget  the  examina- 
 tion of  this  temper,  than  to  forget  his  whole 
 prayers. 
 
 Again  £ 
 
to  a  T)e<vottt  and  Holy  Life.        /^6^ 
 
 Again ;  if  you  find  that  vanity  is  your  pre-? 
 vailing  temper,  that  is  always  putting  you 
 upon  the  adornment  oi^yonr  perlbn,  and  catch- 
 ing after  every  thing  that  compliments  ox  ■flat" 
 ters  your  abilities,  never  fpare  or  forget  this 
 temper  in  your  evening  examination  ;  but  con- 
 fels  to  God  every  vanity  of  thought,  or  word,  or 
 adion,  that  you  have  been  guilty  of,  and  put 
 your  lelf  to  all  the  Ihame  and  confufion  for  it 
 that  you  can. 
 
 In  this  manner  fliould  all  people  aft  with 
 regard  to  their  chief  frailty^  to  which  their  na- 
 ture moft  inclines  them.  And  though  it 
 Ihould  not  immediately  do  all  that  they  would 
 wifh,  yet  by  a  conftant  praftice  it  would  cer- 
 tainly in  a  fhort  time  produce  its  defir'd  ef- 
 feft. 
 
 Farther ;  as  all  ftates  and  employments  of 
 life  have  their  particular  dangers  and  tempt a^ 
 tionsy  and  expofe  people  more  to  Ibme  fins 
 than  others,  fo  every  man  that  wifhes  his 
 own  improvement,  fliould  make  it  a  necejfliry 
 part  of  his  evening  examination,  to  confider 
 how  he  has  avoided,  or  fallen  into  fuch  fins  as 
 are  moft  common  to  his  ftate  of  life. 
 
 For  as  our  bufinels  and  condition  of  life 
 has  great  power  over  us,  \o  nothing  bat  fuch 
 watchfulnefs  as  this,  can  fccurc  us  from  thole 
 temptations  to  which  it  daily  expoles  us. 
 
 The  poor  man^  from  his  condition  of  life, 
 
 is  always  in  danger  of  repining  and  uneajinefs  ; 
 
 the  rich  man  is  moft  exposed  to  JenfuaVtty  and 
 
 indulgence  j   the  trade] man  to  lying  and  anrea^ 
 
 Hh  3  fonahk 
 
^ 
 
 f 
 
 470  A  ScnoHs  Call,  | 
 
 fonahle  gains  ;  the  fcholar  to  pride  and  vanity  \ 
 fo  that  in  every  ftate  of  life,  a  man  ftiould  al-. 
 ways,  in  his  examination  of  himfelf,  have  a 
 ilrid  eye  upon  thole  faults,  to  which  his  ftate 
 of  life  moft  of  all  expoles  him. 
 
 Again;  as  it  is  reaibnable  to  fuppofe,  that 
 every  good  man  has  entered  into,  or  at  leaft 
 proposed  to  himfelf  y5/;2^  method  of  holy  living, 
 and  fet  himfelf  iovc\cfuch  rules  to  obferve,  as 
 are  not  common  to  other  people,  and  only 
 known  to  himfelf;  fo  it  fhould  be  a  conftant 
 part  of  his  night  recollection ,  to  examine 
 how,  and  in  what  degree,  he  has  obferv'd 
 them,  and  to  reproach  himfelf  before  God,  for* 
 every  neglect  of  them. 
 
 By  rules,  I  here  mean,  fuch  rule?  as  relate 
 to  the  well-ordering  of  our  tlme^  and  the  bu^ 
 Jinefs  of  our  common  life.  Such  rules  as  pre- 
 fcribe  a  certain  order  to  all  that  we  are  to  do, 
 our  hiijinejsy  devotion^  mortifications^  readings^ 
 retiretnents^  converfation^  mealsy  refrejhrncntSy 
 Jleep^  and  the  like. 
 
 Now  as  good  rules  relating  to  all  theft 
 things,  are  certain  means  of  great  improve- 
 TD.ent,  and  fuch  as  all  ferious  Chriftians  muft 
 needs  propofe  to  themfelvcs,  fo  they  will 
 hardly  ever  be  oblervM  to  any  purpole,  unlefs 
 they  are  made  the  coiipant  fahjedi  of  our  even- 
 ing  examination. 
 
 Lajily^  You  are  not  to  content  your  felf 
 with  a  hafiy  general  review  of  the  day,  but 
 you  muft^  enter  upon  it  with  deliberation; 
 
 begin 
 
to  a  DezfOHt  and  Holy  'Life,      471 
 
 begin  with  the  frft  aB'ion  of  the  day,  and 
 proceed  ftep  by  ftep,  through  every  particular 
 matter  that  you  have  been  concern'd  in,  and 
 fo  let  no  time^  place  ^  or  afiwn  be  over- 
 lookYl. 
 
 An  examination  thus  managed,  will  in  a 
 little  time  make  you  as  different  from  your 
 felf,  as  a  wtfe  man  is  different  from  an  ideot. 
 It  will  give  you  llicha  newnels  of  mind,  iiich 
 a  Ipirir  of  wiidom,  and  defire  of  perfecti- 
 on ,  as  you  was  an  entire  ftranger  to  be- 
 fore. 
 
 Thus  much  concerning  the  evening  examU 
 nation. 
 
 I  proceed  now  to  lay  before  you  fuch  con- 
 fiderations,  as  may  fill  your  mind  with  a  jnft 
 dread  and  horror  of  all  fin,  and  help  you  to 
 confefs  your  own  in  the  moft  paffionatc  con- 
 trition, and  Ibrrow  of  heart. 
 
 Confider  firtt,  how  odious  all  fin  is  to  God, 
 what  a  mighty  bafenefs  it  is,  and  how  abo- 
 miinable  it  renders  finners  in  the  fight  of  God. 
 That  it  is  fin  alone  that  makes  the  great  dif- 
 ference betwixt  an  angel,  and  the  devil ;  and 
 that  every  finner  is,  ib  far  as  he  fins,  a  friend 
 of  the  devil's ,  and  carrying  on  his  work  a- 
 gainffc  God.  That  fin  is  a  greater  blemifli  and 
 defilement  of  the  foul,  than  any  filth  or  dil- 
 cafe  is  a  defilement  of  the  body.  And  to  be 
 content  to  live  in  fin,  is  a  much  greater  bafe-. 
 nefs,  than  to  defire  to  wallow  in  the  mire,  or 
 love  any  bodily  impurity. 
 
 Hh  4  Con^ 
 
AJ2  A  Serious   Call 
 
 Confider  how  you  muft  abhor  a  creature 
 that  delighted  in  nothing  but  filth  and  nalH- 
 nefsy  that  hated  every  thing  that  was  decent 
 and  clean  ^  and  let  this  teach  you  to  appre- 
 hend, how  odious  that  foul  that  delights  in 
 nothing  but  the  impurity  of  fin,  muft  appear 
 unto  God. 
 
 For  all  fins,  whether  of  fenfuahtf^  fridcy 
 ox  faljenepj  or  any  other  irregular  paffion,  are 
 nothing  elfe  but  the  filth,  and  impure  diicafes 
 of  the  rational  foul.  And  all  righteoulhefs 
 is  nothing  elfe  but  the /^/r//"/,  xh^  decejicy^  the 
 heauty  and  ferfeB'wu  of  that  fpirit,  which  is 
 made  in  the  image  of  God. 
 
 Again ;  learn  what  horror  you  ought  to 
 have  for  the  guilt  of  fin,  from  the  greatnef^ 
 of  that  attonement  which  has  been  made  lor 
 it. 
 
 God  made  the  world  by  the  Ijreath  of  his 
 ;nouth,  by  a  word  fpeaking;  but  the  redem- 
 ption of  the  world  has  been  a  work  of  longer 
 labour. 
 
 How  eafily  God  can  create  beings,  we  learn 
 from  the  firft  chapter  of  Genejjs  j  but  how  dif- 
 ficult it  is  for  infinite  mercy  to  forgive  fins, 
 we  learn  from  that  cofily  attonement^  thole 
 lioody  fcicr'ijices^  thoie  fahu  and  penances^  thole 
 Jlcknejfes  and  deaths^  which  all  muft  be  under- 
 gone, before  the  guilty  finner  is  fit  to  appear 
 in  the  prefence  of  God. 
 
 Ponder  tUei'e  great  truths :  That  the  Son  of 
 God  was  forc'd  to  become  man,  to  h^  parta- 
 jfcer  of  all  our  infirmities  j  to  undergo  a  poor, 
 
 pain- 
 
to  a  De<voift  a^id  Holy  Life,         473 
 
 painful,  miferablc,  and  contemptible  life,  to 
 be  perfecuted,  hated,  and  at  laft  naiPd  to  a 
 Crofs,  that  by  fuch  lufferings  he  might  ren- 
 der God  propitious  to  that  nature  in  which 
 he  ihffer'd. 
 
 That  all  the  bloody  facrifices  and  attone- 
 ments  of  the  jfezoi/h  Law,  were  to  reprelent 
 the  neceflity  of  this  g?^eat  fa c rife e^  and  the 
 great  dijpleaflire  God  bore  to  finners. 
 
 That  the  world  is  Itill  under  the  airfe  of 
 fin,  and  certain  marks  of  God's  dilpleafure  at 
 it  \  fuch  ^s  famines^  plagues j  tcnipefis^  fi^^^'^f^^y 
 dijeafes  and  death. 
 
 Confider  that  all  the  fons  of  Jdam  are  to 
 go  through  a  painful,  fickly  life,  denying  and 
 mortifying  their  natural  appetites,  and  cru- 
 (:ifying  the  lufts  of  the  fleili,  in  order  to  have 
 a  Ihare  in  the  attonement  of  our  Saviour's 
 death. 
 
 That  all  their  penances  and  felf-denials,  all 
 their  tears  and  repentance,  are  only  made 
 available  by  that  great  Interceflion,  which  is. 
 ftill  making  for  them  at  the  right  hand  of 
 Gpd, 
 
 Confider  thefe  great  truths;  that  this  ?nyf{e- 
 r toils  redemption^  all  theicJcKriJices  and  JaZ/z-r- 
 ingSj  both  of  God  and  man,  are  only  to  re- 
 move  the  guilt  of  fin ;  and  then  let  this  teach 
 you  with  what  tears  and  contrition ,  you 
 ought  to  purge  your  felf  from  it. 
 
 After  this  general  confideration  of  the  guilt 
 of  fin,  which  has  done  fo  much  mifcluef  to 
 your  nature,  and  exposed  it  to  lb  great  pu- 
 
 nilhment, 
 
474  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 niilimcn^,  and  made  it  fb  odious  to  God,  that 
 nothing  lefs  than  lb  great  an  attonement  of 
 the  Son  of  God,  and  fo  great  repentance  of 
 our  own,  can  reftore  us  to  the  divine  fa- 
 vour ; 
 
 Confider  next  your  own  parikular  Jhare  in 
 the  guilt  of  fin.  And  if  you  would  know 
 with  what  zeal  you  ought  to  repent  your  felf, 
 confider  how  you  would  exhort  another  finner 
 to  repentance;  and  what  repentance  and 
 amendment  you  would  expcd  from  him , 
 whom  you  judg'd  to  be  the  greateji  jinner  in 
 the  world. 
 
 ^  Now  this  caie  every  man  may  juftly  reckon 
 to  be  his  own.  And  you  may  fairly  look  up- 
 on your  fclf  to  be  the  great  eft  finner  that  you 
 kncrw  in  the  world. 
 
 For  though  you  may  know  abundance  of 
 people  to  be  guilty  of  fome  grofs  fins,  with 
 which  you  cannot  charge  your  felf,  yet  you 
 may  juftly  condemn  your  felf,  as  the  greateft 
 finner  that  you  know.  And  that  for  thefe 
 following  rcafons : 
 
 Fir/?,  Becaufe  you  know  more  of  the  folly 
 of  your  own  heart,  than  you  do  of  other  peo- 
 ples ;  and  can  charge  your  felf  with  various 
 ftus^  that  you  only  know  of  your  felf,  and 
 cannot  he  jure  that  other  finners  are  guilty  of 
 them.  So  that  as  you  know  more  of  th^fo/^ 
 /k,  the  bajenejsy  the  pride,  the  deceitftibicfs 
 and  negligence  of  your  own  heart,  than  you 
 do  of  any  ones  elfc,  ib  you  bave  juft  reafon 
 
 to 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      475 
 
 to  confider  your  felf  as  the  grcatcft  finncr  that 
 you  know:  Bccaule  you  know  more  of  the 
 greatnefs  of  your  own  fins,  than  you  do  of 
 other  peoples. 
 
 Secondly^  The  greatnels  of  our  guilt  arifes 
 chiefly  from  the  greatnels  of  God's  goodneis 
 towards  us,  from  the  particular  graces  and 
 hJeJJings^  the  favours^  the  lights  and  inftru-^. 
 Blons  that  we  have  received  from  him. 
 
 Now  as  thele  graces  and  bleflings,  and  the 
 multitude  of  God's  favours  towards  us,  are 
 the  great  aggravations  of  our  fins  againft  Go<:l, 
 lb  they  are  only  known  to  our  lelves.  And 
 tFierefore  every  finner  knows  more  of  the  aggra- 
 vations of  his  ov/n  guilt,  than  he  does  of  o- 
 ther  peoples ;  and  conlequently  may  juftly 
 look  upon  himfelf  to  be  the  greateft  {inner 
 that  he  knows. 
 
 How  good  God  has  been  to  other  finners, 
 what  light  and  InJlruBlon  he  has  vouchfaPd 
 to  them  ;  what  bleffings  and  graces  they  have 
 received  from  him  \  how  often  he  has  touched 
 their  hearts  with  holy  inlpirations,  you  can- 
 not tell.  But  all  this  you  know  of  your  lelf, 
 therefore  you  know  greater  aggravations  of  your 
 own  guilt,  and  are  able  to  charge  your  felf 
 with  greater  ingratitude  than  you  can  charge 
 upon  other  people. 
 
 And  this  is  the  reafon,   why  the  greateji 
 
 faints  have  in  all  ages  condemned  themfelves 
 
 as  the  greateft  finners,    bccaule  they   knew 
 
 fonw 
 
47^  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 Jdme  aggravatjons  of  their   own    fins,    which 
 they  could  not  know  of  other  peoples. 
 
 The  right  way  therefore  to  fill  your  heart 
 with  true  contrition,  and  a  deep  fenfe  of  your 
 own  fins,  is  this :  You  arc  not  to  confider, 
 or  compare  the  outward  form^  or  courfe  of  your 
 life,  with  that  of  other  peoples,  and  then  think 
 your  felf  to  be  lefs  finful  than  they,  becaule 
 the  outw^ard  courfe  of  your  life  is  lefs  finful 
 than  theirs. 
 
 But  in  order  to  know  your  own  guilt,  you 
 mull  confider  your  own  particular  circumftan- 
 CCS,  yoViX  healthy  your  Jtcknefs^  joux  youths  or 
 age  J  your  partktdar  calling,  the  happinefs  of 
 your  education^  the  degrees  of  Ijght  and  /;;- 
 flrilBmi  that  you  have  received,  the  good  men 
 that  you  have  convers'd  with,  the  admomtt^ 
 ons  that  you  have  had,  the  good  hooks  that 
 you  have  read,  the  numberlefs  multitude  of 
 divine  hlefjings^  graces  and  favours  that  you 
 have  received,  the  good  ^notions  of  grace  that 
 you  have  refilled,  the  refoht'ions  of  amend- 
 ment that  you  have  often  broken,  and  the 
 checks  of  confcience  that  you  have  difre-* 
 garded. 
 
 For  it  is  from  thcfe  circumftanccs ,  that 
 every  one  is  to  ftatc  the  nieajure  and  greatnejs 
 of  his  own  guilt.  And  as  you  know  only 
 thele  circumftanccs  of  your  own  fins,  i^o  you 
 muft  neceflarily  know  how  to  charge  your 
 felf  with  higher  degrees  of  guilt,  than  yov\ 
 can  charge  upon  other  people. 
 
 God 
 
to  a  T^e'Vont  and  Holy  Life  477 
 
 God  Almighty  knows  greater  finncrs,  it 
 may  bc^  than  you  arc  ;  bccaule  he  lees  and 
 knows  the  circumftances  of  all  mens  fins  :  But 
 your  own  heart,  if  it  is  faithful  to  you,  can 
 dilcover  no  guilt  lb  great  as  your  own ;  bccaule 
 it  can  only  lee  in  you  thole  circumftances,  on 
 which  great  part  of  the  guilt  of  fin  is  found- 
 ed. 
 
 You  may  fee  fins  in  other  people,  that  you 
 cannot  charge  upon  yourlelf;  but  then  you 
 know  a  number  of  circumftances  of  your  own 
 guilt,  that  you  cannot  lay  to  their  charge. 
 
 And  perhaps  that  perfon  that  appears  at 
 fuch  a  diftance  from  your  virtue,  and  \o  odi- 
 ous in  your  eyes,  would  have  been  much  bet- 
 ter than  you  arc,  had  he  been  altogether  in 
 your  circumftances,  and  received  all  the  fame 
 favours  and  graces  from  God  that  you  have. 
 
 This  is  a  very  hiimhVing  rejleBton^  and  very 
 proper  for  thole  people  to  make,  who  meafurc 
 their  virtue,  by  comparing  the  outward  courle 
 of  their  lives  w^ith  that  of  other  peoples. 
 
 For  look  at  whom  you  will,  however  diffe- 
 lent  from  you  in  his  way  of  life,  yet  you  can 
 never  know  that  he  has  refifted  Jo  ?nuch  divine 
 grace  as  you  have;  or  that  in  all  your  circum- 
 ftances, he  would  not  have  been  jfizich  truer  to. 
 his  duty  than  you  are. 
 
 Now  this  is  the  realbn  why  I  defir'd  you 
 to  confider,  how  you  would  exhort  that  man 
 to  confefs  and  bewail  his  fins,  >vhom  you 
 look'd  upon  to  be  one  of  xho.  greatejl  fuiners. 
 
 Bccaule 
 
47  8  A  Serious  C  a  L  L 
 
 Becaufe  if  you  will  deal  juftly,  you  muft 
 fix  the  charge  at  homc^  and  look  no  farther 
 ih-^n  yourfelf.  For  God  has  given  no  one  any 
 power  of  knowing  the  tr^e  greatvefs  of  any 
 fins,  but  his  own ;  and  therefore  the  greateffc 
 finner  that  every  one  hwwsy  is  himfelf. 
 
 You  may  cafily  fee  how  fuch  a  one  in  the 
 outward  courfe  of  his  life  breaks  the  laws  of 
 God ;  but  then  you  can  never  fay,  that  had 
 you  been  exaftly  in  all  his  circumftances,  that 
 you  fhould  not  have  broken  them  more  than 
 he  has  done. 
 
 A  ferious  and  frequent  refledion  upon  thefe 
 things,  will  mightily  tend  to  humble  us  in 
 our  own  eyes,  make  us  very  apprehenfive  of 
 the  greatnefs  of  our  own  guilt,  and  very  ten- 
 der in  cenfuring  and  condemning  other  peo- 
 ple. 
 
 For  who  would  dare  to  be  fevere  againll 
 other  people,  when  for  ought  he  can  tell,  the 
 feverity  of  God  may  be  more  due  to  him, 
 than  to  them  ?  Who  would  exclaim  againft  the 
 guilt  of  others,  when  he  confiders  that  he 
 knows  more  of  the  greatnefs  of  his  own  guilt, 
 than  he  does  of  theirs  ? 
 
 How  often  you  have  refitted  God's  holy  Spi- 
 rit ;  how  many  motives  to  goodnefs  you  have 
 difregarded ;  how  many  particular  bleflings 
 you  have  finn'd  againfl: ;  how  many  good  refo- 
 lutions  you  have  broken  5  how  many  checks 
 and  admonitions  of  conlcience  you  have  ftifled, 
 you  very  well  know :  But  how  often  this  has 
 been  the  cafe  of  other  fiftA^rs^  yx>u  know  not. 
 
 And 
 
to  a  Ve'Vont  and  Holy  Life.      479 
 
 And  therefore   the  greateft  finner  that   you 
 know,  muft  be  yourlelf. 
 
 Wlienever  therefore  you  are  angry  at  fin  or 
 finners,  whenever  you  read  or  think  of  God's 
 indignation  and  wrath  at  wicked  men,  let 
 this  teach  you  to  be  the  moft  fevcre  in  your 
 cenlure,  and  moft  humble  and  contrite  in  the 
 acknowledgment  and  confeffion  of  your  own 
 fins,  becaule  you  know  of  no  finner  equal  to 
 yourlelf. 
 
 Lajily^  to  conclude  this  chapter :  Having 
 thus  examined  and  confelVd  your  fins  at  this 
 hour  of  the  evening,  you  muft  afterwards 
 look  upon  yourfelf,  as  ftill  obliged  to  betake 
 yourfelf  to  prayer  again  juft  before  you  go  to 
 bed. 
 
 The  fubjed  that  is  moft  proper  for  your 
 prayers  at  that  time,  is  death.  Let  your 
 prayers  therefore  then  be  wholly  upon  it,  rec- 
 koning up  all  the  dafjgers^  uncertahitles^  and 
 terrors  of  death  ;  let  them  contain  every  thing 
 that  can  affed  and  awaken  your  mind  into  juft 
 apprehenfions  of  it.  Let  your  petitions  be  all 
 for  right  fentiments  of  the  approach  and  impor- 
 tance  of  death ;  and  beg  of  God,  that  your 
 mind  may  be  poflefs'd  with  fuch  a  Icnfc  of  its 
 nearnefsj  that  you  may  have  it  always  in  your 
 thoughts,  do  every  thing  as  in  fight  of  it, 
 and  make  every  day,  a  day  for  preparation  for 
 it. 
 
 Reprefent  to  your  imagination,    thiit  yonr 
 hed  is  your  grave  j  that  all  things  are  ready  for 
 
 vour 
 
480  A  Serious  Call 
 
 your  interment ;  that  you  are  to  have  no  mofe 
 to  do  with  this  world ;  and  that  it  will  be  ow- 
 ing to  God's  great  mercy,  if  you  ever  fee  the 
 light  of  the  Sun  again,  or  have  another  day 
 to  add  to  your  works  of  piety. 
 
 ^  And  then  commit  yourfelf  to  fleep^  as  into 
 the  hands  of  God ;  as  one  that  is  to  have  no 
 more  opportunities  of  doing  good  ;  but  is  to 
 awake  amongft  fpirits  that  are  feparate  from 
 the  body,  and  waiting  for  the  judgment  of  the 
 laft  great  day. 
 
 Such  a  folemn  rcfignatlort  of  yourfelf  into 
 the  hands  of  God  every  evening,  and  parting 
 with  all  the  world,  as  if  you  was  never  to  lee 
 it  any  more,  and  all  this  in  the  filence  and 
 darknefs  of  the  night,  is  a  practice  that  will 
 foon  have  excellent  effefts  upon  your  Ipirit. 
 
 For  this  time  of  the  night  is  exceeding  pro- 
 per for  luch  prayers  and  meditations ;  and  the 
 likenefs  v^hichjkep  and  darhiefs  have  to  death ^ 
 will  contribute  very  much  to  make  your 
 thoughts  about  it  the  more  deep  and  affeding. 
 So  that  I  hope  you  will  not  let  a  time,  fb  pro- 
 per for  fuch  prayers,  be  eyer  pafs'd  oyer  with- 
 out them. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
to  a  Dezfout  and  Holy  Life.      481 
 
 CHAR     XXIV. 
 
 Ti^e  ConcluJtotJ.     Of  the  Excellency  and  Great"' 
 fiefs  of  a  devout  Sprit. 
 
 I  Have  now  finilh'd  what  I  intended  in 
 this  Treatife.  I  have  explained  the  nature 
 of  devotion,  both  as  it  fignifies  a  life  devoted 
 to  God,  and  as  it  fignifies  a  regular  method  of 
 daily  prayer.  I  have  now  only  to  add  a  word 
 or  two  in  recommendation  of  a  life  governed 
 by  this  fpirit  of  devotion. 
 
 For  though  it  is  as  realbnable  to  fiippofe  it 
 the  defire  of  all  Chriftians  to  arrive  at  Chrifti- 
 an  Perfedion,  as  to  fuppofe,  that  all  fick  mea 
 defire  to  be  reftor'd  to  perfect  health ;  yet  ex- 
 perience fliews  us,  that  nothing  wants  more 
 to  be  prefs'd,  repeated,  and  forc'd  upon  our 
 minds,  than  the  plaineft  rules  of  Chriftianity. 
 
 Voluntary  poverty^  virginity^  and  devout  re^ 
 ttremef2ty  have  been  here  recommended,  as 
 things  not  neceflfary,  yet  highly  beneficial  to 
 thofe  that  w^ould  make  the  way  to  perfeftion 
 the  moft  eafy  and  certain.  But  Chriftian  per- 
 fection itfelf  is  ty'd  to  no  particular  form  of 
 life ;  but  is  to  be  attained,  tho'  not  with  the 
 lame  eafe,  in  every  ftate  of  life. 
 
 This  has  been  fully  aflerted  in  another  place ; 
 where  it  has  been  fliewn,  that  Chri/lian  per- 
 feftion  calls  no  one  (neceflTarily)  to  a  Cloyjier^  but 
 to  the  full  performance  of  thofe  du-  Chrift.  Perfc(5l. 
 tiesy  which  are  necejfary  fgr  all  P-  2. 
 ChriJiiaiJSy  and  common  to  alljiates  of  Vife^ 
 
 I  i  .So 
 
482  A  Serious  Call 
 
 So  that  the  \vholc  of  the  matter  is  plainry 
 this:  V"irgrj?ity^  voluntary  poverty^  and  fuch 
 .other  refiraints  of  lawful  things^  are  not  ne- 
 ceffary  to  Chriftian  pcrfcdion  ;  but  are  much 
 to  be  commended  hi  thofc,  who  chufe  them 
 as  helps  and  7neans  of  a  moicjafe  zndfpeedy  ar- 
 rival at  it. 
 
 It  is  only  in  this  manner,  and  in  this  fenfc, 
 that  I  would  recommend  any  particularity  of 
 life ;  not  as  if  perfection  confifted  in  it,  but 
 becaufe  of  its  great  tendency  to  produce  and 
 fupport  the  truefpirlt  of  Chriftian  perfection. 
 
 But  tlie  thing  which  is  here  prefs'd  upon  ally 
 is,  a  life  of  great  and  /iriti  devotion;  which^> 
 I  think,  has  been  fufficiently  ftiewn  to  be 
 equally  the  duty  and  happinefs  of  all  orders  of 
 men.  Neither  is  there  any  thing  in  any  par- 
 ticular ftate  of  life,  that  can  be  juftly  pleaded 
 as  a  reafon  for  any  abatements  of  a  cievout 
 Ipirit. 
 
 But  becaufe  in  this  pol'tte  age  of  ours,  we 
 have  io  Wd  away  the  fpirit  of  devotion,  that 
 many  fcem  afraid  even  to  be  fufpefted  of  it^ 
 imagining  great  devotion  to  be  great  Z^/^^/zj  ^ 
 that  it  is  founded  in  ignorance  and  poarnejs  of 
 fph-it,  and  that  little^weak^  d.nddeje£}edmmds^ 
 are  generally  the  greateft  proficients  in  it : 
 
 It  Ihall  here  be  fully  fhewn,  that  great  de-^ 
 votion  is  the  mblejl  temper  of  the  greateji  and 
 mblefi  fouls ;  and  that  they  who  think:  it  re- 
 ceives any  advantage  from  Ignorance  and  poor-* 
 7iefs  of  fpirit,  are  themfelves  not  a  little,  but 
 entirely  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  devotion, 
 
 the 
 
to  a  De'vout  and  Holy  Life.     483 
 
 the  nature  of  God,  and  the  nature  of  them- 
 felves. 
 
 People  o^jiiie  parti  and  learnings  or  of  great 
 knowledge  in  worldly  matters^  ^"^7  perhaps 
 think  it  hard  to  have  their  want  or  devotloa 
 charged  upon  their  ignorance.  But  if  they 
 will  be  content  to  be  try'd  by  Reafon  and  Scri- 
 pture, it  may  foon  be  made  appear,  that  a 
 want  of  devotion,  whero-ever  it  is,  either  a- 
 mongft  the  learned  or  unlearned,  is  founded  ia 
 grofs  ignorance^  and  the  greateji  hlindnefs  and 
 injcnjibility  that  can  happen  to  a  rational  crea- 
 ture. 
 
 And  that  devotion  is  fo  far  from  being  the 
 effed  of  a  little  and  dejeBed  mind,  that  it  muft 
 and  will  be  always  higheji  in  the  vao^  ferfcS^ 
 natures. 
 
 And  frjl J  Who  reckons  it  a  fign  of  z  poor^ 
 little  mind,  for  a  man  to  be  full  of  reverence 
 and  duty  to  his  parents,  to  have  the  trueft  love 
 and  honour  for  his  friend^  or  to  excel  in  the 
 higheji  injlances  of  gratitude  to  his  hencfaBor  ? 
 
 Are  not  thefe  tempers  in  the  higheji  degree 
 in  the  moft  exalted  and  perfeft  minds  ? 
 
 And   yet   what   is  high  devotion^   but  fhe 
 
 higheft  exercife  of  thefe  tempers,  of  duty^  r^- 
 
 verencey   love^    honour^    and   gratitude  to  the 
 
 amiable,    glorious  parent,  friend,    and  bene- 
 
 fatior  of  all  mankind? 
 
 Is  it  a  true  grcatncfs  of  mind,  to  reverence 
 
 the  authority  of  your  parents,  to  fear  the  dif* 
 
 pleafure  of  your  friend,  to  dread  the  reproaches 
 
 of  your  bcnefador?   and  muft  not  this  fear y 
 
 Wo.  and 
 
4S4  ^  Serioits  C  A  L  t 
 
 and  dread  J  and  revere7ice^  be  much  more  juff^ 
 and  rcafoniible,  and  honourable,  when  they 
 2Lre  in  the  h'lghefl  degree  towards  God  ? 
 
 Now  as  the  higher  thefe  tempers  are,  the 
 inore  are  they  efteem'd  amongft  men,  and  arc 
 allow'd  to  be  fo  much  the  greater  proofs  of  a 
 true  greatnefs  of  mind;  fo  the  higher  and 
 greater  thefe  larrle  tempers  are  towards  God,  fo 
 much  the  more  do  they  prove  the  nobility,  ex- 
 cellence, and  greatnefs  of  the  mind. 
 
 So  that  {o  long  as  duty  to  parents,  love  to 
 friends,  and  ^r^/i/r/^^^  to  benefaftors,  are  thought 
 great  and  lionourable  tempers ;  devotion,  which 
 is  nothing  elfe  but  duty,  love,  and  gratitude 
 to  God,  muft  have  the  higheft  place  amongft 
 our  higheft  virtues. 
 
 If  a  ^Prince  out  of  his  mere  goodnejs  ftiould 
 fend  you  a  pardon  by  one  of  his  JlaveSy  would 
 you  think  it  a  partof  your  duty  to  receive  the 
 Jlave  with  marks  of  love^  ejieefn^  and  gratitude 
 for  his  great  kindnefs,  in  bringing  you  lb  great 
 a  gift ;  and  at  the  fame  time  think  it  a  mean-' 
 fiefs  and  poornefs  of  Ipirit,  to  Ihew  love^  ejieem 
 znA  gratitude  to  the  Prince,  who  of  his  own 
 goodnefs  freely  fent  you  the  pardon? 
 
 And  yet  this  would  be  as  reafonable,  as  to 
 fuppofe,  that  love,  efteem,  honour,  and  gra- 
 titude, are  jwble  tempers y  and  inftances  of  a 
 great  J  only  when  they  are  paid  to  our  fellow- 
 creatures  ;  but  the  effefts  of  a  poor^  ignorant^ 
 dejeBed  mind,  when  they  are  paid  to  God. 
 
 Farther;  that  part  of  devotion  which  ex- 
 preffes  itfelf  in  forrowftil  confeflions^  and  penl^ 
 
 2  tential 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.       485 
 
 tenttal  tQ'3iXS  of, a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart, 
 is  very  far  from  being  any  fign  of  a  Ilttk  and 
 Ignorant  mind. 
 
 For  who  does  not  acknowledge  it  an  in- 
 ftance  of  an  ingenuous^  generous^  and  brave 
 mind^  to  acknowledge  a  fault,  and  ask  par- 
 don for  any  offence  ?  And  arc  not  the  jinej} 
 and  viofi  improved  mind^,  the  moft  remarkable 
 for  this  excellent  temper? 
 
 Is  it  not  alfo  allow'd,  that  the  ingeuuity  and 
 excellence  of  a  man's  fpirit  is  much  ihewn, 
 w^hen  his  Ibrrow  and  indignation  at  himfclf 
 rifes  in  proportion  to  the  folly  of  his  crime, 
 and  the  goodnefs  and  greatnefs  of  the  perlbn  he 
 feas  ofiFended? 
 
 Now  if  things  arc  thus,  then  the  greater 
 any  man's  mind  is,  the  more  he  knows  of  God 
 and  himfelf,  the  more  will  he  be  difpos'd  to 
 proftnite  himfelf  before  God  in  all  xh.zhumhleji 
 a3s  and  expreffions  of  repentance. 
 
 And  the  greater  the  ingenuity^  the  genera^ 
 Jtty^  jiidg7nent^  and  penetration  of  his  mind  is, 
 the  more  will  he  exerciie  and  indulge  d.  pajjio^ 
 nate^  tender  fenfe  of  God's  juft  dilplcalure ;. 
 and  the  more  he  knows  of  the  greatnefs^  the 
 goodnefs,  and  perfection  of  the  divine  nature, 
 the  fuller  of  Ihame  and  confufion  will  he  be  at 
 his  own  fins  and  ingratitude. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  the  more  cfoZ/and 
 Ignorant  any  foul  is,  the  more  hafe  and  unge-^ 
 nerous  it  naturally  is,  the  more  Jenfckfs  it  is 
 of  the  goodnefs  and  purity  of  God,  lb  much 
 
 li  3  the 
 
/^^6  A  Serious  C  A  L  L 
 
 the  more  averfe  will  it  be  to  all  afts  of  hmnlh 
 confejjlon  and  repentance. 
 
 Devotion  therefore  is  fo  far  from  being  beft 
 fuited  to  little  ignorant  minds,  that  a  true  ele^ 
 vat  ton  of  foul,  a  lively  fejjfe  of  honour,  and 
 great  knowledge  of  God  and  our  felves,  are 
 the  greateft  natural  helps  that  our  devotion 
 hath. 
 
 And  on  the  other  hand,  it  fhall  here  be 
 made  appear  by  variety  of  arguments,  that 
 indevot'wn  is  founded  in  the  moft  exceffive  ig*- 
 norance. 
 
 And,  FlrPj  Our  bleffed  Lord,  and  his 
 Apoftles,  v/ere  eminent  inftances  of  great  and 
 frequent  devotion.  Now  if  we  will  grant, 
 (as  all  Chriftians  muft  grant  )  that  their  great 
 devotion  was  founded  in  a  true  knowledge  of 
 the  nature  of  devotion,  the  nature  of  God, 
 and  the  nature  of  man ;  then  it  is  plain,  that 
 all  thofe  that  are  infenfible  of  the  duty  of  de- 
 votion, are  in  this  exceffive  ftate  of  ignorance, 
 they  neither  know  God,  nor  themfelves,  nor 
 devotion. 
 
 For  if  a  right  knowledge  in  thefe  three  re- 
 fpefts,  produces  great  devotion,  as  in  the  cafe 
 of  our  Saviour  and  his  Apoftles,  then  a  neg- 
 left  of  devotion  muft  be  chargeable  upon  ig- 
 norance. 
 
 Again  ;  how  comes  it  that  moft  people 
 have  recourfe  to  devotion,  when  they  are  in 
 fickneis,  diftrefs,  or  fear  of  death  ?  Is  it  not 
 becaufe  this  iiate  fhews  them  more  of  the  want 
 
to  a  Dez^OHt  and  Holy  Life.        487 
 
 of  God,  and  their  own  wcaknels,  than  they 
 perceive  at  other  time^  ?  Is  it  not  bccaulc  their 
 infirmities,  their  approaching  end  convinces 
 them  of  Ibmething,  which  they  did  not  half 
 fercerve  before  ? 
 
 Now^  if  devotion  at  thefe  feafons,  is  the  ef- 
 fect of  a  better  knoivleilge  of  God,  and  our 
 felves,  then  the  negleft  of  devotion  at  other 
 times,  is  always  owing  to  great  ignorance  of 
 •God,  and  our  felves. 
 
 Farther;  as  indevotion  is  ignorance,  fb  it  is 
 the  vciO^  jhamefid  ignorance,  and  fuch  as  is 
 to  be  charged  with  X\\q  great efi  fAly. 
 
 This  will  fully  appear  to  any  one  that  con- 
 fiders,  by  what  rules  we  arc  to  judge  of  the 
 excellency  of  any  knowledge,  or  the  fhame- 
 fulnefs  of  any  ignorance. 
 
 Now  hnomledg<^  it  lelf  would  be  no  exccU 
 lence^  nor  ignorance  any  reproach  to  us,  but 
 that  we  are  rational  creatures. 
 
 But  if  this  be  true,  then  it  follows  plainlyj, 
 that  that  knowledge  which  is  moft  fuitabk  to 
 ■our  rational  nature,  and  v/hich  moil  concerns 
 us,  as  fuch,  to  know,  is  our  h'lghefi^  fr^^J^ 
 knowledge ;  and  that  ignorance  which  relates 
 to  things  that  are  moft  ejfflutud  to  us,  as  ratio-^ 
 nal  creatures,  and  which  we  are  moft  con- 
 <:ernVl  to  know,  is,  of  all  others,  the  moU 
 grofs  and  fhameful  ignorance. 
 
 If  therefore  there  be  any  things  that  coH" 
 cern  us  more  than  others ,  if  thx^re  be  any 
 truths  that  are  more  to  us  than  all  others^  he 
 iJtjat  has  the  fullett  knowledge  of  thefe  things^ 
 
 \\  4  that 
 
4S8 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 that  fees  thefe  truths  in  the  clear e fly  ftrongcji 
 light,  has,  of  all  others,  as  a  rational  crea- 
 ture ,  the  cleareft  underftanding ,  and  the 
 Ibongeft  parts. 
 
 If  therefore  our  relation  to  God  be  our 
 groatep  relation^  if  our  advancement  in  his 
 favour  be  our  higheji  advancement^  he  that  has 
 the  hlgheJi  notions  of  the  excellence  of  this  re- 
 lation ,  he  that  moft  fjrongly  perceives  the 
 hlgheJl  worthy  and  great  value  of  holinefs  and 
 virtue,  that  judges  every  thing  little^  when 
 compar'd  with  it,  proves  himfelf  to  be  mailer 
 of  the  befty  and  niofl  excellent  knowledge. 
 
 If  a  Judge  had  fine  skill  in  paintings  archl- 
 teBurCy  and  mujtcky  but  at  the  fame  time  had 
 grofs  and  confus'd  notions  of  equity  ,  and  a 
 foor^  dull  apprehenfion  of  the  value  of  juftice, 
 who  would  fcruple  to  reckon  him  a  poor  igno-^ 
 rant  Judge  ? 
 
 If  a  Blflop  fhould  be  a  man  of  great  addrefs 
 and  skill  in  the  arts  of  preferment,  and  un- 
 derftanding how  to  raiie  and  enrich  his  family 
 in  the  world,  but  ftiould  have  no  tajie  oxfenje 
 of  the  maxims  and  principles  of  Xh^  faints  and 
 fathers  of  the  Church ;  if  he  did  not  conceive 
 the  holy  nature,  and  great  obligations  of  his 
 calling,  and  judge  it  better  to  be  cruclfy'dno 
 the  world,  than  to  live  idly  in. pomp  TinAfplen- 
 dor^  who  would  fcruple  to  charge  fuch  a  Bi- 
 ftiop  with  want  of  underftanding? 
 
 If  we  do  not  judge,  and  pronounce  after 
 this  manner^  our  realorx  and  judgment  are  but 
 empty  foundsa 
 
 But 
 
to  a  DcvoHt  and  Holy  Life.      489 
 
 But  now,  if  a  Jitdge  is  to  be  reckoned  igno-' 
 rant  ^  if  he  does  not  feel  and  perceive  the 
 value^  and  worth  of  juftice  ^  if  a  B'ljhop  is  to 
 be  look'd  upon  as  void  of  underftanding ,  if 
 he  is  more  experienced  in  other  things,  than  in 
 the  exalted  virtues  of  his  Apoftolical  calling; 
 then  all  common  Chrijlians  are  to  be  look'd  up- 
 on as  7nore  or  lefs  knowing ,  accordingly  as 
 they  know  more  or  lefs  of  thofe  great  things, 
 which  are  the  common  ^ind  great eji  conc^xn  oi 
 ^11  Chriftians. 
 
 If  a  Gentleman  fliould  fancy  that  the  Moon 
 is  no  bigger  than  it  appears  to  the  eye^  that  it 
 fliines  with  its  own  light ^  that  all  the  Stars 
 ^re  only  fo  many  fpots  of  light ;  if  after  read- 
 ing books  of  Jflronomy^  he  fliould  Hill  conti- 
 nue in  the  fame  opinion,  moft  people  would 
 think  he  had  but  a  poor  apprehenfion. 
 
 But  if  the  lame  perfon  ihould  think  it  bet- 
 ter to  provide  for  2l  Jhort  life  here,  than  to 
 prepare  for  a  glorious  eternity  hereafter,  that  it 
 was  better  to  be  rich^  than  to  be  eminent  in 
 piety,  his  ignorance  and  dalnefs  would  be  too 
 great  to  be  compared  to  any  thing  elle. 
 
 There  is  no  knowledge  that  dcferves  ^o 
 much  as  the  name  of  it,  but  that  which  we 
 q:^  judgment. 
 
 And  that  is  the  moft  clear  and  improved 
 underftanding,  \\\i\Q\i  judges  beft  of  the  value 
 and  worth  of  things.  All  the  reft  is  but  the 
 capacity  of  an  animal^  it  is  but  tcvqqx  feeing  and 
 hearins:. 
 
 And 
 
4pO  A  Serious  C  A  Lt 
 
 And  there  is  no  excellence  of  any  lcno\v« 
 ledge  in  us,  till  we  exercife  owx  jucigmenP^  and 
 judge  well  of  the  value  and  worth  of  things. 
 
 If  a  man  had  eyes  that  could  fee  beyond 
 the  Stars^  or  pierce  into  the  heart  of  the  earth, 
 but  could  not  fee  the  things  that  were  before 
 him,  or  dilcern  any  thing  that  was  fervicc- 
 able  to  him,  we  Ihould  recl$:on  that  he  had  a 
 very  had  jight. 
 
 If  another  had  ears  that  received  founds 
 from  the  world  in  the  Moon^  but  could  hear 
 nothing  that  was  faid  or  done  upon  earth,  we 
 ftiould  look  upon  him  to  be  as  had  as  deaf. 
 
 In  like  manner,  if  a  man  has  a  memory 
 that  can  retain  a  great  many  things ;  if  he 
 has  a  wit  that  is  Jharp  and  acute  in  arts  and 
 Iciences,  or  an  imagination  that  can  wander 
 agreeably  \xifi3ions^  but  has  a  diill^  poor  ap- 
 prchenfion  of  his  duty  and  relation  to  God,  of 
 the  value  of  piety,  or  the  worth  of  moral  vir-i- 
 tue,  he  may  very  juftly  be  reckoned  to  have 
 a  had  under Jlanding.  He  is  but  like  the  man 
 that  can  only  fee  and  hear  filch  things  as  ^re 
 of  no  benefit  to  him. 
 
 As  certain  therefore  as  piety,  virtue,  and 
 eternal  happinefs  are  of  the  moft  concern  to 
 man,  as  certain  as  the  immortality  of  our 
 nature,  and  relation  to  God,  are  the  moft  glo- 
 rious circumftances  of  our  nature,  fo  certain 
 is  it,  that  he  who  dwells  fnojiin  contemplation 
 of  them,  wiiofe  heart  is  ?noft  affeBed  with 
 them,  who  f^cs  farthef  into  them^  who  beft 
 comprehends  the  value  and  excellency  of  them. 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.      49 1 
 
 'who  judges  all  worldly  attainments  to  be 
 mere  bubbles  and  fjadows ,  in  comparilba  of 
 them,  proves  himlelf  to  have  of  all  others, 
 thQJineJi  underflanding^  and  the  Ji ro7igeJi  j ndg^ 
 merit. 
 
 And  if  we  don't  reafon  after  this  manner, 
 or  allow  this  method  of  reaibning,  we  have 
 no  arguments  to  prove,  that  there  is  any  fuch 
 thing  as  a  wife  man^  or  a  fool. 
 
 For  a  man  is  prov'd  to  be  a  natural^  not 
 
 becaufe  he  wants  any  of  his  fenjes^  or  is  inca^ 
 
 pable  of  every  things  but  becaufe  he  has  no 
 
 judgment  J  and  is  entirely  ignorant  of  the  worth 
 
 and  value  of  things,  he  will  perhaps  chufe  a 
 
 ftie  coat  J  rather  than  a  large  efiate. 
 
 And  as  the  effence  oi  Jliipidlty  confifts  in 
 the  entire  want  oi  judgment ^  in  an  ignorance 
 of  the  value  of  things,  lb  on  the  other  hand, 
 the  effence  of  wifdom  and  knowledge  muft 
 confift  in  the  excellency  of  our  judgment,  or 
 in  the  knowledge  of  the  worth  and  value  of 
 things. 
 
 This  therefore  is  an  undeniable  proof,  that 
 he  who  know^s  7noJi  of  the  value  of  the  belt 
 things,  who  judges  moft  rightly  of  the  things 
 which  are  of  moft  concern  to  him,  who  had 
 rather  have  his  foul  in  a  ftate  of  chriftian  per- 
 feftion,  than  the  grcateft  fhare  of  worldly  hap- 
 pinefs,  has  the  higheji  wifdom^  and  is  at  the 
 fartheft  diftance  from  men  that  are  naturals^ 
 that  any  knowledge  can  place  him. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  he  that  can  talk  the 
 learned  languages^  and  repeat  a  great  deal  of 
 
 H'jjlory^ 
 
49 2  ji  Serious  Call 
 
 Bijlory^  but  prefers  the  indulgence  of  his  ho 
 dy  to  the  parity  and  perfeBion  of  his  foul, 
 who  is  ??iore  concern 'd  to  get  a  name^  or  an 
 eflate  here,  than  to  live  in  eternal  glory  here* 
 after,  is  in  the  neareft  eftate  to  that  natural^ 
 who  chufcs  a  painted  coaty  rather  than  a  large 
 €jlati\ 
 
 He  is  not  call'd  a  natural  by  men,  but  he 
 muft  appear  to  God,  and  heavenly  Beings,  as 
 in  a  more  cxceflive  ftate  of  ftupidity,  and  will 
 fooncr  or  later  certainly  appear  fo  to  himfelf. 
 
 But  now  if  this  be  undeniably  plain,  that 
 we  cannot  prove  a  man  to  be  a  fool^  but  by 
 Jhevving  that  he  has  no  knowledge  of  things 
 that  are  good  and  evil  to  himfelf,  then  it  is 
 undeniably  plain,  that  we  cannot  prove  a  man 
 to  be  v^lfe^  but  by  ftiewing  that  he  has  the 
 fullefi  knowledge  of  things  that  are  his  greateji 
 good,  and  his  greateft  evil. 
 
 If  therefore  God  be  our  greateft  good  5  if 
 there  can  be  no  good  but  in  his  favour,  nor 
 any  evil  but  in  departing  from  him,  then  it 
 is  plain,  that  he  who  judges  it  the  beft  thing 
 he  can  do  to  pleafe  God  to  the  utmoft  of  his 
 power,  who  worihips  and  adores  him  with  all 
 his  heart  and  foul,  who  had  rather  have  a 
 pious  mhidy  than  all  the  dignities  and  honours 
 ia  the  world,  ftiews  himfelf  to  be  in  the  high^ 
 eji  flate  of  human  wifdom. 
 
 To  proceed;  we  know  how  our  bleffedLord 
 acted  in  an  human  body ;  it  was  his  meat  and 
 drink  to  do  the  zjHI  of  his  Father  which  is  in 
 heaven. 
 
 And 
 
to  a  Ve'VOHt  and  Holy  Life.      495 
 
 And  if  any  number  of  heavenly  fpirits  were 
 to  leave  their  habitations  in  the  light  of  God, 
 and  be  for  a  while  united  to  human  bodies, 
 they  would  certainly  tend  towards  God  in  all 
 their  adions,  and  be  as  heavenly  as  they  could, 
 in  a  ftate  of  flefli  and  blood. 
 
 They  would  certainly  aft  in  this  manner,  be- 
 caufe  they  would  know  that  God  was  the  only 
 good  of  all  fpirits ;  and  that  whether  they  were 
 iu  the  body,  or  out  of  the  body,  in  heaven^  or 
 on  earthy  they  muft  have  every  degree  of  their 
 greatnefs  and  happinefs  from  God  alone. 
 
 All  human  fpirits  therefore,  the  more  cxalt^ 
 ed  they  are,  the  more  they  know  their  divine 
 Original,  the  nearer  they  come  to  heavenly 
 fpirits,  by  lb  much  the  more  will  they  live  to 
 God  in  all  their  aftions,  and  make  their  whole 
 life  2ijlate  of  devotion. 
 
 Devotion  therefore  is  the  greateft  fign  of  a 
 great  and  noble  ^^;^/^i ,  it  fuppofes  a  foul  in 
 its  highefi  fiate  of  knowledge ;  and  none  but 
 little  and  Minded  minds  that  are  funk  into  /£•- 
 mra7ice  and  vanity ^  are  deftitute  of  it. 
 
 If  an  human  fpirit  ftiould  imagine  Ibme 
 mighty  Prince  to  be  greater  than  God,  we 
 Ihould  take  it  for  a  por^  ignorant  creature ; 
 all  people  would  acknowledge  fuch  an  imagi- 
 nation to  be  the  height  of  ftupidity. 
 
 But  if  this  fame  human  fpirit  fhould  think- 
 It  better  to  be  devoted  to  Ibme  mighty  ^Prince^ 
 than  to  be  devoted  to  God,  would  not  this 
 ftill  be  a  greater  proof  of  a  poor,  ignorant, 
 and  blinded  nature  ? 
 
 Yet 
 
494  ^  Serious  Call 
 
 Yet  this  is  what  all  people  do,  who  think 
 any  thing  better^  greater y  or  wlfery  than  a  de- 
 vout life. 
 
 So  that  which  way  Ibever  we  confider  this 
 matter,  it  plainly  appears,  that  devotion  is  an 
 inftancc  oi  great  judgment^  of  an  elevated  nature ; 
 and  the  want  of  devotion  is  a  certain  proof  of 
 the  want  of  underjlanding. 
 
 The  greateft  fpirits  of  the  heathen  world, 
 fuch  as  '-Pythagoras^  Socrates^  ^lato^  EplBetuSy 
 Marcus  Jntomnus^  &c.  ow'd  all  their  greatnejs 
 to  the  fpirit  of  devotion. 
 
 They  were  full  of  God;  their  wifdom  and 
 deep  contemplations  tended  only  to  deliver 
 men  from  the  vanity  of  the  world,  the  flavery 
 of  bodily  paflions,  that  they  might  a£l  ^sfpi^ 
 rits  that  came  from  God,  and  were  foon  to  re- 
 turn to  iiim. 
 
 Again ;  To  fee  the  dignity  and  greatnefs  of 
 a  devout  fpirit,  wx  need  only  compare  it  with 
 other  tempers,  that  are  cholen  in  the  room  of 
 it. 
 
 St.  John  tells  us,  that  all  in  the  world  (that 
 is,  all  the  tempers  of  a  worldly  life)  is  the 
 laji  of  the  flejhy  the  luji  of  the  eyeSy  and  the 
 fride  of  Itje. 
 
 Let  us  therefore  confider,  what  wifdom  or 
 excellency  of  mind  there  is  required  to  qualify 
 a  man  for  thefe  delights. 
 
 Let  us  fuppofe  a  man  given  up  to  the  plea- 
 fures  of  the  body  \  furely  this  can  be  no  fign 
 of  a  fine  mind,   or  an  excellent  fpirit ;  For  if 
 
 he 
 
to  a  Ve<vout  and  Holy  Life.       495 
 
 he  has  but  the  temper  of  an  animal^    he  is 
 great  enough  for  thefe  enjoyments. 
 
 Let  us  fuppolc  him  to  be  devoted  to  ho^ 
 UGiirs  ^ndi  fplen dors ^  to  be  fond  of  glitter  and 
 equtpage  ;  now  if  this  temper  required  any  great 
 farts  ox ffie  undcritanding  to  make  a  man  ca- 
 pable of  it,  it  would  prove  the  world  to  abound 
 with  great  wits. 
 
 Let  us  luppofe  him  to  be  in  love  with 
 rkhesy  and  to  be  fo  eager  in  the  purfuit  of 
 them,  as  never  to  think  he  has  enough ;  now 
 this  paffion  is  fb  far  from  fuppofing  any  excel" 
 lent  fenfe^  or  great  under fhuiding^  that  blind- 
 nefs  and  folly  are  the  beft  fupports  that  it 
 hath. 
 
 Let  us  laftly  fuppofe  him  in  another  light, 
 not  fingly  devoted  to  any  of  thefe  paffions^ 
 but,  as  it  moftly  happens,  governed  by  all  of 
 them  in  their  turns;  does  this  fliew  a  more 
 exalted  nature,  than  to  Ipend  his  days  in  the 
 lervice  of  any  one  of  them? 
 
 For  to  have  a  tajie  for  thefe  things,  and  to 
 be  devoted  to  them,  is  fb  far  from  arguing 
 any  tolerable  parts  or  underftanding,  that  they 
 are  fuited  to  the  dullefi^  weaheft  minds,  and 
 require  only  a  great  deal  of  pride  and  folly  to 
 be  greatly  admired. 
 
 But  now  let  Libertlneshxin^  any  fuch  charge 
 as  this,  if  they  can,  againft  devotion.  They 
 may  as  well  endeavour  to  charge  light  with 
 every  thing  that  belongs  to  darknefs. 
 
 Let,  them  but  grant  that  there  is  a  God, 
 and  Providence,  and  then  they  have  granted 
 
 enough 
 
49^ 
 
 A  Serious  Call 
 
 enough  to  juftify  the  wlfdom,   and   fupport 
 the  honour  of  devotion. 
 
 For  if  there  is  an  infinitely  wife  and  good 
 Creator,  in  whom  we  live,  move,  and  have 
 our  being,  whofe  Providence  governs  all  things 
 in  all  places,  furcly  it  mull  be  the  higheft  act 
 of  our  tmderftanding  to  conceive  rightly  of 
 him ;  it  muft  be  the  nobleft  inftance  of  jiidg^ 
 ment^  the  moft  exalted  temper  of  our  nature, 
 to  worlhip  and  adore  this  univerfal  Providence, 
 to  conform  to  its  laws,  to  ftudy  its  wifdom, 
 and  to  live  and  ad  every  where,  as  in  the  pre- 
 ftnce  of  this  infinitely  good  and  wife  Crea- 
 tor. 
 
 Now  he  that  lives  thus,  lives  in  the  fpirit 
 of  devotion. 
 
 And  what  can  fiiew  fuch  great  parts,  and 
 fo  fine  an  underftanding,  as  to  live  in  this 
 temper  ? 
 
 For  if  God  is  wifdom^  furely  he  muft  be  the 
 wifeft  man  in  the  world,  who  mcr^  conforms  to 
 the  wifdom  of  God,  w^ho  beff  obeys  his  Pro- 
 vidence, who  enters  farthefi  into  his  defigns, 
 and  does  all  he  can,  that  God's  will  may  be 
 done  on  earth,  as  it  is  done  in  heaven. 
 
 A  devout  man  makes  a  true  ufe  of  his  rea- 
 fon  ;  he  fees  through  the  vanity  of  the  world, 
 dilcovers  the  corruption  of  his  nature,  and  the 
 lUndnefs  of  his  paffions.  He  lives  by  a  laz^ 
 which  is  not  vifible  to  vulgar  eyes ;  he'  enters 
 into  the  world  oi  fftrits-^  he  compares  the 
 greateft  things,  fets  eternity  againft  time\  and 
 chufes  rather  to  be  for  eyer  great  in  th-e  pre- 
 
 fea';c 
 
to  a  DezfOHt  a  fid  Holy  Life.      /^pj 
 
 fence  of  God  when  he  dies,  than  to  have  the 
 greateft  Ihare  of  worldly  pleafures  whilft  he 
 lives. 
 
 He  that  is  devout  is  full  of  thefe  greaf 
 thoughts ;  he  lives  upon  thefe  noble  refleftions, 
 and  condufts  himfelf  by  ndes  and  principles y 
 which  can  only  be  apprehended,  admir'd  and 
 lov'd  by  reafon. 
 
 There  is  nothing  therefore  that  iliews  fb 
 great  a  genius^  nothing  that  lb  raifes  us 
 above  vulgar  J'pirits^  nothing  that  fo  plain- 
 ly declares  an  heroic  greatnefs  of  mind,  as 
 great  devotion. 
 
 When  you  fuppofe  a  man  to  be  ?i  faint ^  or 
 all  devotion,  you  have  raised  him  as  much  a- 
 bove  all  other  conditions  of  life,  as  a  ^hilcfo- 
 fher  is  above  an  Animal, 
 
 Laftly,  Courage  and  bravery  are  words  of  a 
 great  found,  and  feem  to  fignify  an  heroick  fpi- 
 rit ;  but  yet  humility^  which  feems  to  be  the 
 loweft^  meanefi  part  of  devotion,  is  a  more  cer- 
 tain argument  of  a  nohle  and  courageous  mind. 
 
 For  humility  contends  w^th  greater  enemies, 
 IS  more  conftantly  engaged,  more  violently  al^ 
 faulted,  bears  more,  fuffers  more,  and  requires 
 greater  courage  to  lUpport  itfelf^  than  any  in-* 
 fiances  of  worldly  bravery. 
 
 A  man  that  dares  be  poor  and  contemptible 
 in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  to  approve  himfelf 
 to  God  ;  that  refills  and  rejefts  all  human  glo- 
 ry, that  oppofes  the  clamour  of  his  paffions, 
 that  meekly  puts  up  all  injuries  and  wrongs. 
 Is  k  and 
 
7^p8  A  Serious  Call 
 
 and  dares  ftay  for  his  reward  till  the  invifible 
 hand  of  God  gives  to  every  one  their  proper 
 places,  endures  a  much  greater  trlal^  and  ex- 
 erts a  nobler  fortitude^  than  he  that  is  bold  and 
 daring  in  the  lire  of  battel. 
 
 For  the  boldnels  of  a  Soldier,  if  he  is  a 
 ftranger  to  the  fpirit  of  devotion,  is  rather 
 ivcaknefs  than  fortitude ;  it  is  at  beft  but  mad 
 fajfion^  and  heated  fpirits,  and  has  no  more 
 true  valour  in  it  than  the  fury  oi  ^Tyger, 
 
 For  as  we  cannot  lift  up  a  hand,  or  ftir  a 
 foot,  but  by  a  power  that  is  lent  us  from  God  \ 
 fo  bold  anions  that  are  not  direfted  by  the 
 laws  of  God,  or  i^o  many  executions  of  his 
 \vill,  are  no  more  true  bravery,  th^,n  Jedate 
 malice  is  Chriftian  patience. 
 
 Realbn  is  our  univerfal  law^  that  obliges  us 
 in  all  places,  and  at  all  times ;  and  no  actions 
 have  any  honour,  but  fb  far  as  they  are  in- 
 flanccs  of  our  obedience  to  realbn. 
 
 And  it  is  as  bafe  and  cowardly j  to  be  bold 
 and  daring  againft  the  principle  of  reafon  and 
 juftice,  as  to  be  bold  and  daring  in  lying  and 
 perjury. 
 
 Would  we  therefore  exercile  a  true  forti- 
 tude^ wc  muft  do  all  in  the  fpirit  of  Devotion^ 
 be  valiant  againft  the  corruptions  of  the  worldy 
 the  lufts  of  xh^jiejl;^  and  the  temptations  of 
 the  Devil :  For  to  be  daring  and  courageous 
 againft  thefe  enemies,  is  the  nohleft  bravery 
 that  an  human  mind  is  capable  of, 
 
 I  have  made  this  digreffion,  for  the  lake  of 
 thole,  who  think  a  great  Devotion  to  be  big- 
 
to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.     4^9 
 
 gatry  and  poornefs  o^Jpirlt ;  that  by  thcfc  con- 
 fiderations  they  may  lee ,  how  po?^^  and 
 iman  all  othci'  tempers  arc,  if  compared  to  it. 
 That  they  may  lee,  that  all  worldly  attain- 
 ments, whether  of  greatnefs,  wifdom  or  bra- 
 very^  are  but  empty  founds  \  and  that  there  is 
 nothing  wife^  or  g?^eatj  or  iwhlej  in  an  human 
 ff'trit^  but  rightly  to  know^  and  heartily  "wor^ 
 jhtp  and  adore  the  great  God,  that  is  the  fup-- 
 port  and  life  of  all  ipirits ,  whether  in  keaven^ 
 or  on  earth. 
 
 F  I  tl   I  S. 
 
 T 
 
 HE  Procedure,  Extent,  and  Limits  of  Human 
 Undcrflanding.   i%'9,    ijzS. 
 
BOOKS  Printed  for  William  Ii^i<iYS^ 
 at  the  Weft  End  of  St.  PaulV. 
 
 I.    A     Praftical  Treatife  on   Chriftian  Pcrfeftion, 
 /\   By  /r.  Law^  A.  M.    The  Second  Edition. 
 8^'(?.  1728. 
 
 z.  Remarks  on  a  late  Book  entituled,  The  Fable  of 
 the  Bees  3  or.  Private  Vices  Publick  Benefits.  In  a 
 Letter  to  the  Author.  To  which  is  added,  A  Poft- 
 fcript,  containing  an  Obfervation  or  two  upon  Mr. 
 Bayk.     By  fF.  La-j:^  A.  M.     The  Second  Edition. 
 
 3.  Three  Letters  to  the  Bifhop  of  Bangor,  By 
 W.  Law,  A.  M.  The  Eighth  Edition.  81;^.  The 
 iirll;  in  x^nfwer  to  hisLordihip's  late  Sermon,  and  his 
 Letter  to  Dr.  Snapc  in  Defence  of  it,  and  the  dan- 
 gerous Nature  of  fome  Doftrines  in  his  Prefervative. 
 The  Second  proving  his  Lordlhip's  Notions  of  Be- 
 nediction, Abfolution,  and  Church-Communion,  to 
 be  dcllru6i:ive  of  every  Inftitution  of  the  Chriftian 
 Religion.  To  which  is  added,  A  Poflfcript,  in  An- 
 fwer  to  the  Objeftions  that  have  been  made  againfl 
 his  firil:  Letter.  The  Third  being  a  Reply  to  his 
 Lordlliip's  Anfwer  to  the  Reprefentation  of  the 
 Committee  of  Convocation.  Humbly  addrefs'd  to 
 his  Lordfliip. 
 
 4.  The  abfolute  Unlawfulnefs  of  the  Stage-Enter- 
 tainment fully  demonftrated.  By  fF,  Law^  A.  M. 
 The  Second  Edition.  81^^. 
 
 f .  h\\  Enquiry  into  the  Evidence  of  the  Chriftian 
 Religion.     By  a  Lady,  ^vo,  1728. 
 
 6.  An  Enquiry  after  Happinefs.  In  Three  Parts. 
 By  the  late  Reverend  Richard  Lucas^  D.  D.  The 
 Fifth  Edition.    In  z  Volumes  in  8w. 
 
 7,  Praftical 
 
Books  printed  for  William  Innys. 
 
 7.  Pra6tical  Chriftianityj  or.  An  Account  of  the 
 Holinefs  which  the  Gofpel  enjoins,  with  the  Mo- 
 tives to  it,  and  the  Remedies  it  propofcs  againfl; 
 Temptations.  With  a  Prayer  concluding  each  di- 
 IHndHead.  To  which  are  added,  Chriftian  Thoughts 
 for  every  Day  of  the  Month.  Wherein  is  reprefent- 
 ed  the  Nature  of  unfeigned  Repentance,  and  of  per- 
 fect Love  towards  God.  By  the  late  Richard  Lticas^ 
 D.  D.     The  Sixth  Edition.  81;^. 
 
 8.  The  Plain  Man's  Guide  to  Heaven  >  containing 
 his  Duty,  i .  Towards  God.  z.  Towards  his  Neigh- 
 bour. With  proper  Prayers,  Meditations,  aiid  Eja- 
 culations. Defigned  chieHy  for  the  Countryman, 
 Tradefman,  Labourer,  and  fuch  like.  The  Fourth 
 Edition.  \zmo.  By  the  late  Rev"^  Richard  Liicas^ 
 D.D. 
 
 p.  The  Duty  of  Servants;  containing,  i.  Their 
 Preparation  for  and  Choice  of  a  Service.  2.  Their 
 Duty  in  Service.  Together  with  Prayers  fuited  to 
 each  Duty.  AH  which  may  be  accommodated  like- 
 wife,  for  the  moil  part,  to  Apprentices.  To  which 
 is  added,  A  Difcourfe  of  the  Sacrament,  fuited  pe- 
 culiarly to  Servants.  By  the  htc Richard Lucas^D.D, 
 The  Fourth  Edition. 
 
 I  o.  Dr.  Mange f%  Pradtical  Difcourfes  on  the  Lord's 
 Prayer,  preach'd  before  the  Honourable  Society  of 
 Lincoln" s-hm.     The  Third  Edition,   ^vo. 
 
 II. His  Defence  of  the  Lord  Biiliop  o£ 
 
 London's  Letter  to  his  Clergy :  Wherein  the  conilant 
 Worihip  of  Son  and  Holy  Spirit  with  the  Father, 
 during  the  firfl  Ages,  is  fet  forth,  and  the  Antiquity 
 of  the  Doxology  ufed  by  the  Church  of  Englandy 
 afTerted.   ^vo. 
 
 11.  His  Remarks  upon  Nazarenus :  Where- 
 in the  Falfity  of  Mr.  'Toland's  Mahometan  Gofpel,^ 
 and  his  Mifreprefcntation  of  Mahometan  Sentiments 
 in  refpeft  of  Chrillianity,  arc  fet  forth,  and  the  Hi- 
 itory  of  the  old  Nazar^eans  cleared  up,    and  the 
 
 Vi'hole 
 
Books  printed  for  William  Intiys. 
 
 whole  Condu(5b  of  the  firft  Chrillians,  in  refpCiSb  of 
 the  JcwIJJj  Law,  explained  and  defended.  The  Se- 
 cond Edition.  8^'^. 
 
 1 3.  A  Critical  Diflertation  upon  the  17*^  Verfe  of 
 the  f^^  Chapter  of  St.  John's  firft  Epiflle,  "tbere  are 
 three  that  bear  record  in  Heaven^  6cc.  wherein  the  Au- 
 thentickncfs  of  this  Text  is  fully  proved,  againft  the 
 Objedions  of  Mr.  Simon^  and  the  Modern  Jrians, 
 Written  originally  in  French  by  Mr.  Martin  ^  and 
 now  tranflatcd  into  £;7|/i/7;,  8vo.  1719. 
 
 14.  Dr.  Bennefs  Diicourfe  of  the  ever-blefled  Tri- 
 nity in  Unity,  with  an  Examination  of  Dr.  Clarke's 
 Scriptiire-Dodrine  of  the  Trinity,  '^vo.     171 8. 
 
 1 5-. Directions  for  Studying:   I.  A  general 
 
 Syftcm,  or  Body  of  Divinity.  II.  The  Thirty  Nine 
 Articles  of  Religion.     Second  Edition,  ^vo. 
 
 ik5.  Difcoiirfe  of  Schifm :  Shewing,  I.  What 
 
 is  meant  by  Schifm.  II.  That  Schifm  is  a  damnable 
 Sin.  HI.  That  there  is  a  Schifm  between  the  efta- 
 blifh'd  Church  of  England  and  the  DifTenters. 
 IV.  That  the  Schifm  is  to  be  charged  on  the  Dif- 
 fentcrs  Side.  V.  That  the  modern  Pretences  of  To- 
 leration, Agreement  in  Fundamentals,  i3c.  will  not 
 excufe  the  DilTenters  from  being  guilty  of  Schifm, 
 ^c.  Fourth  Edition,  8w.  1718. 
 
 17.  Mr.  Kettleweirs  Help  and  Exhortation  to 
 worthy  communicating,  81;^?. 
 
 18.  Works.  In  Two  Vol. /b/. 
 
 I  p.  Mr.  Harfs  Bulwark  ilormed,  in  Anfwer  to 
 DelauHe's  Plea  for  the  Nonconformifts  j  with  a  Pre- 
 face by  Dr.  Brett^  ?>vo. 
 
 10.  Mr.  Bragg' s  Practical  Obfervations  upon  the 
 Miracles  of  our  blefled  Saviour,  Two  Vol.  Sz;^. 
 
 11.  Mr.  Derham's  Phy fico-Theology 3  or  a  De- 
 monftration  of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God, 
 from  his  Works  of  Creation  5  with  large  Notes,  and 
 many  Curious  Obfervations.  Seventh  Edition,  8^•^. 
 
 zz. 
 
 'Aftro= 
 
Books  printed  for  William  Innys, 
 
 22.  — —— Aftro-Theology  J  or  a  Dcmonllnitlon 
 of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God,  from  a  Survey 
 of  the  Heavens :  Illullrated  with  Copper  Plates.  Third 
 Edition,  S'vo.   1719. 
 
 25.  Biiliop  Taylor's  Rules  for  Holy  Living  and 
 Dying,  81;^.  171 9. 
 
 24.  ' Golden  Grove,  iimo.  1719. 
 
 ly.  Spicilegium  S.  S.  Patrum,  ut  &  Hasretico^ 
 rum,  Seculi  poll  Chrillum  natum  I.  II.  &  III.  Quo- 
 rum vel  integra  monumenta  vel  fr^gmenta,  partim  ex 
 aliorum  Patrum  Libris  jam  imprcflis  collegir,  6c  cum 
 Cod.  MSS.  contulit,  partim  ex  MSS.  primum  edi^ 
 dit,  ac  fingula  tam  Prxfitione,  quam  Notis  fubjunclis 
 illuftravit  J.  E.  Grahius,  Editio  Secunda  audior. 
 Ox  on.  1 71 4. 
 
 2(5.  Ethices  Compendium  in  Ufum  Academicce  Ju- 
 ventutis,  Authore  Dan.  Unoithy^  -S.  T.  P.  audius  6c 
 amendatius  tertio  editum. 
 
 27.  San<51:i  Juflini  Philofophi  &  Martyris  cum  Try- 
 phone  Juda:o  Dialogus,  cum  Latina  Joannis  Langi 
 verfione,  quamplurimis  in  locis  corre6laj  Subjun^lis 
 Emendationibus  &:  Notis  Roherti  Stephanie  Perioni'i^ 
 Sylhurgii^  Halloixii^  Montacutii^  Dru/ii^  Cohmefil^ 
 Caviiy  BulU^  Grahii^  pluribufquc  novis  additisj  an- 
 nexis  infuper  ad  calcem  Annotationibus  Langi  Sc  Kor- 
 iholti  I  Pra:mif]ls  vero,  Langi  Prxfatione,  qua  fiim- 
 mam  hujus  Dialogi  enarravit,  Adlifque  Martyrii  S.  Ju- 
 fiini  &  Sociorum  ,  Edita  a  Samucle  Jehb. 
 
 28.  A  moral  Proof  of  the  Certainty  of  a  Future 
 State.     The  Second  Edition.  d>vo.  1728. 
 
 2p.  The  Principles  of  Deifm  truly  reprefented 
 and  fet  in  a  clear  Light,  in  two  Dialogues  between  a 
 Sceptick  and  a  Deift.  The  firft  concerning  tlic  Chri- 
 ftian  Revelation  ^  the  fecond  concerning  Natural  Re- 
 ligion.    The  Third  Edition,  ^vo,  1724. 
 
 30.  TI:e  Chrijiian  InftitHtes :  Or,  "The  finccrc  JFord 
 cf  God,  Being  a  plain  and  impartial  Account  of  the 
 whole  Faith  and  Duty  of  a  Chriftiani  collcdcd  out 
 
 of 
 
Books  prinfecl  for  William  Innys. 
 
 of  the  Writiiigs  of  the  Old  and  New  Tcftaments : 
 Digelled  under  proper  Heads,  and  delivered  in  the 
 Words  of  Scripture,  by  the  Right  Reverend  Father 
 in  God,  Francis  late  Lord  Biihop  of  Chejler.  The 
 Fifth  Edition,  izmo. 
 
 3 1 .  Fourteen  Difcourfcs  preached  on  feveral  Oc- 
 cafions,  by  William  Shorey  ^  A.  M.  Lcfturer  of 
 St.  Laurence-Jewry .  Second  Edition,  ^vo.  1728. 
 
 31.  Diredions,  Counfels,  and  Cautions,  tending 
 to  prudent  Management  of  Affairs  in  Common  Life. 
 Collected  by  1'homas  Fuller^  M.  D.  Second  Edition, 
 izmo.  1727. 
 
 33.  A  Ihort  Letter  of  Inftrudion,  iliewing  the 
 furcitWay  of  Chrillian  Perfeftion :  tranflated  out  of 
 French.  To  which  are  added,  the  pious  Meditati- 
 ons of  Blofins  upon  the  PafHon  of  our  bleffcd  Savi- 
 our. \%mo.  172*3. 
 
 34.  A  Perfuaiive  to  a  holy  Life,  from  the  Happi- 
 nefs  which  attends  it,  both  in  this  World  and  in  the 
 World  to  come.  By  John  Ray^  late  Fellow  of  the 
 Royal  Society.  %vo.  1719. 
 
 3f.  kxi  Anfwer  to  fome  late  Papers,  entituled, 
 ^he  Independent  JVhig^  fo  far  as  they  relate  to  the 
 Church  of  England  as  by  Law  eftablifhed.  In  which 
 her  Do6trines,  Creeds,  Liturgy,  and  Ellablifhment  j 
 her  Clergy,  with  their  Rights,  Divine  and  Human, 
 are  modeftly  defended,  and  their  Author's  new  No- 
 tions proved  to  be  not  onlyabfurd  and  ridiculous,  but 
 alfo  direftly  oppofite  ,to  thofe  very  Texts  of  God's 
 Word,  on  which  he  pretends  to  found  them.  By 
 Francis  Squire^  A.  M.  Reftor  of  Exford^  and  Vicar 
 o^  Cutcomb  Tmdi  Luxborow^  Somerfet.   Svo.    ijz^. 
 
 36.  An  Addrefs  to  Parents,  fhewing  them  the 
 Obligations  they  are  under  to  take  Care  of  the  Chri- 
 flian  Education  of  their  Children,  and  laying  before 
 them  the  principal  Points  in  which  they  ought  to  in- 
 ftrudt  them.  By  Jofefh  Hoole^  Vicar  of  Flaxey^ 
 ^vo.  172,4. 
 
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