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 BV4500 .L407 1805 
 
 Law, William, 1686-1761. 
 
 Serious call to a devout & 
 
 holy 
 
 life : adapted to the state 
 
 and condition 
 
 of all orders of Christians 
 
 / 
 
,^^e<^^<>-*v 
 
ON 
 
 AUG -7 
 
 SERIOUS CALL 
 
 TO A 
 
 DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE, 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM LAW, A.M. 
 
 FIFTEENTH EDITION. 
 
CHARACTERS of this WORK. 
 
 1. By Dr. Johnson. 
 
 When at Oxford, I took up Law's Serious Call to a Holy Ltfc^ 
 expecting to find it a dull book (as such books generally are), 
 and perhaps to laugh at it ; but I found Law quite an over- 
 match for me, and this was the first occasion of my think- 
 ing in earnest of religion, after I became capable of rational 
 in<\\xiry .'—Vide BosweWs Life of Johnsouy Zd edit. vol. l.p. 43. 
 
 'J. He much commended ' Laws Seriojis Call,' which he said 
 was the finest piece of hortatory theology in any language. 
 
 Ihidyvol. 2, J5.118. 
 
 3. This excellent Treatise is wrote in a strong and nervous stile, 
 and abounds with many new and sublime thoughts ^ in a 
 word, one may say of this Book, as Sir Richard Steele did of a 
 Discourse of Dr. South's, that it has in it whatever wit or 
 uisdom. can put together, and I will venture to add, that 
 whoever sits down without prejudice, and attentively reads 
 it throughout, will rise up the wiser man and better Chris- 
 tian.— ^(fc Gents. Mag. Nov. 1 800. 
 
 4. The Writings of the Rev. fVm, Law will remain an ever- 
 lasting testimony of the strength and purity of the English 
 language. — John JVesley. 
 
SERIOUS CALL 
 
 TO A 
 
 DEVOUT 'S- HOJLY MFE. 
 
 ADAPTED TO 
 
 The State and Condition of all Orders of 
 Christians. 
 
 By WILLIAM LAW, a.m. 
 
 ififteettt^ coition, torcetteO, 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED, 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 THREE LETTERS TO A FRIEND^ 
 
 Not before Published in any of his Works. Also Two Letters from 
 Clergymen in the Established Church, strongly recommending 
 the Serious Call, and other Works of the Author. — His Cha- 
 racter, by Edward Gibbon, Esq. the Roman Historian, and a List 
 of all his Works. 
 
 He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. — St. Lukf. viii. 8. 
 A»d lehold I come quickly ^ and my reward is with me. 
 
 Rev. xxii. 12. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Pi ii.ted by W. Nicholson, Warner Street, 
 fcOR W. BAYNES, 34, P AT ERNOSTEU-RO W. 
 
 1805. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 GHAP. L 
 
 Page; 
 
 ^0NCI:RNING thenatm-e and extent of chrlpan 
 devotion, 2. 7 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 jin enquiry into the reafon^ luhy the generality of ch'if* 
 tians fall fo far fhort of the hclinefs and devotion of 
 chrijiianity , 3^ 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of the great danger and folly of not intending to he as 
 eminent atid exemplary , as we can^ in the praBice of 
 all chriflian virtues* 42 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 We can pleaje God in no fate or condition of life^ but 
 by intending and devoting it all to his honour and 
 giory, 53 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Perfons that are free from the 7ieceffity of labour and 
 employments are to conftder themjelves as devoted to 
 God in a higher degree, gg 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Containing the great obligations^ and the great advan- 
 tages of making a wife and religious ufe of our ellates 
 and fortunes. 75 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 How the imprudent ufe of an eftate corrupts all the tem- 
 pers of the mind) and fills the heart ivith poor and ri- 
 a diculcus 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 diculoiis pajfions^ through the ivhole courfe of life ^ r^- 
 prefentedin thecharaSlerofYl'iiWid.^ 84* 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Hoiv the lutfe and pious ufe of an eftate^ naturally car^ 
 rieth us to great perfeciion in all the virtues of the 
 chriftian Ufe ; reprefented in the characler of Mi- 
 randa. 91 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Containing fome refleEtions upon the Ufe of Miranda; 
 andfJjewing how it may, and ought to be imitated by 
 all her f ex. 101 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Shewing how all orders and ranks of men and women of 
 all ages, are obliged to devout th emf elves unto God, 114' 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Shewing how great devotion fills our lives ivith the 
 great eft peace and happinefs that can be enjoyed in this 
 world. 129 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 The happinefs of a Ufe wholly devoted unto God, farther 
 proved, froj7t //^^ vanity, the fenfuality, and the ridi- 
 culous, poor enjoyments, which they are forced to take 
 up with, who live according to their own humours* 
 This reprefented in various charaBers, 1 44 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 That only a life of vanity, or fenfuality, but even the 
 molt regular kind of life, that is not governed by a 
 great devotion, fuficiently fJjsws its miferies, its 
 Vv'ants, and eniptinefs, to the eyes of all the world. 
 This reprefented in various char aBers, 157 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Concerning that part of devotion which relates io times 
 and hours ^prayer. Of daily early prayer in the 
 
 morning. 
 
CONTENTS. vii 
 
 imrnhig. Hoio we are to improve our forms of pray- 
 er, and how to increafe the i'^ixitof dev:tion» 171 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of chanting orjlnging of Pf alms in cur private devotions. 
 Of the excellency and benefit of this kind of devotion. 
 Of the great effeBs it hath upon our hearts. Of the 
 means of performing it in the heft manner, 193 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Recommending devotion at nine o'clock in the morning, 
 called in Scripture the third hour of the day. Thefub- 
 jecl of thefe prayers is humility. 210 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Shelving how difficult the practice of humility is made, 
 by the general fpirit and temper of the world. How 
 
 Chriftianity requireth us to live contrary to the 
 world, 222 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Shewing how the educatlen which men generally re- 
 ceive in their youth, makes the doBrine of humility dif- 
 ficult to be praclifed. The fpirit of a better education, 
 reprefented in the character c/Paternus. 2 SI- 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Shewing how the method of educating daughters, makes 
 it difficult for them to enter into the fpirit of chriftian 
 humility. How miferably they are injured and a- 
 hufed byfuch an education. The fpirit of a better edu- 
 cation reprefented in the charaEltr ^/'Eufebia. 248 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 RecommeJiding devotion at twelve d clock, called in Scrip- 
 ture the fixth hour oj the day. This frequency of de- 
 votion eciucilly defirable by all orders of people, Uni- 
 verfal love is here recommended to be thefubjcB of 
 prayer at this hour. Oflnterccffion^ as a^i aB oj uni- 
 verfal love, 268 
 
 CHAP. 
 
Vni CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 Of tie mre/Jify and benefit of interceffion, confidered as 
 an exerdfe of univeifal love. Hoiv all orders oj men 
 are to pray and interceed with God for one another, 
 Hoiv naturally fuch intercefflon amends and reforms 
 the hearts of tkofe that ttfe it, 289 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 Recommending devotion at three o'clock^ called in. Scrips 
 ture the ninth hour of the day. ThefuhjeB of pray- 
 er at this hour, is refignation to the divine pleafure. 
 The nature and duty of conformity to the will of God 
 in all our qElions and dcfigns. 306 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 Of evening prayer. Of the nature and necejfity of exa' 
 mination. How ive are to be particular in the con- 
 fejjion of all our fins. Hoiv ive are to fill our minds 
 with ajufi horror and dread of all fin. 319 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 The conclufion. Of the Excellency and Greatnefs of a 
 devout Spirit, 332 
 
SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Rev. WILLIAM LAW, 
 
 To nvhich are Juhjolned Two Letters from Clergymen in the 
 epahlijhed Church^Jirongly recommending the SERIOUS 
 CalLs and othtr works of the Author; alfo his charaSier^ 
 ^chy Edward Gibbon, Efq. the Roman hijloriauy 
 mid a liji of all'Jns works • 
 
 THE Rev. W. Law was born in the town of King's 
 ClifFe, in the county of Northampton, in the year 
 1686; his education, and the early years of his Hfe, were 
 ■ very ferious, at what time he entered the Univerfity, or 
 when he took his degree of A. M. cannot be exadlly af- 
 certained, but his leaving that place was about the year 
 1712: after having made great proficiency in every 
 branch of human literature, afterwards, taking the ad- 
 vice of our Saviour to the rich young man, he totally 
 renounced the world, and followed Chrift, in meeknefs, 
 humility, and felf-denial. 
 
 Mr Law was a bachelor all his life-time : in perfon, 
 he was a well fet man, and rather of a dark complexion, 
 though remarkably cheerful in his temper ; fuch was 
 his love of privacy, and a date of recollection, that it 
 was very feldom indeed that he palled more than two 
 hours in the company of any perfon; Vvdth a very fmall 
 patrimony he was remarkably charitable, particularly to 
 his poor neighbours, the manufa61:urers of wooden ware, 
 in and about King's Cliffe ; in this benevolent difpofition 
 he was joined by the two maiden ladies, with whom he 
 refided at King's ClifFe; their object was not to encou- 
 rage the idle and diflblute, but to promote and facilitate 
 the good intentions and endeavours of the induftrious, 
 
 A Such 
 
vi Some^Accotint of 
 
 .Such alfo was the little value he fet on money, that he 
 gave the copies of all his works intended for publication 
 to his»bookfeller; but for one of them, MefTrs. Richard- 
 fons and Urquhart, infifted upon h'ls acceptance of one 
 hundred guineas. 
 
 We (hall now relate part of what he uttered in his laft 
 illnefs, which was witnelTed by the friend to whom he 
 addrefled the three letters which accompany this work. 
 — Juft before his bleffed foul took its happy flight, to 
 dwell for ever with the faints in blifsj the heavenly glo- 
 ry fo opened itfelf in him, that he broke forth into the 
 following exultation, vi'hich, {hewing the truth of his 
 own highly regenerate ilate, as well as the joyful reality 
 of the life of God in the foul of man, deferves to be 
 written in letters of gold, not only to convince the in- 
 fidel, but alfo to comfort and confirm the pious pil- 
 grim, in his journey, through the thorny wildernefs 
 of this world, into the peaceful regions of immortal 
 blifs. 
 
 " Away with thefe filthy garments ;" faid this dying 
 faint, " I feel a facred fire kindled in my foul, which 
 will deflroy every thing contrary to itfelf, and burn as a 
 fiame of divine love to all eternity." 
 
 In fuch a triumph of holy joy did this extraordinary 
 fervant of God refign his bleffed fpirit into the hands of 
 his beloved lord and mafter, at the place of his nativity, 
 the town of King's ClifFe, in the county of Northampton. 
 And in the church-yard of that parifli, he lies interred, 
 under a handfome tomb, ere(9.ed to his memory, by a 
 particular and dear friend, who lived many years with 
 him, and therefore had long known, and highly and 
 juftly efteemed his fingular worth: which was expreifed 
 in the following lines, engraven by the direction of the 
 fame friend, on the top-ftone of his tomb. 
 
 Here lyeth the body 
 
 OF THE LATE 
 
 Rev. WILLIAM LAW, A. M. 
 
 Who died April g, 176X. 
 AGED 75, 
 
 He 
 
the Rev. W. Law., vii 
 
 He was well known to the world by a number of truly 
 chriftian, pious writings exemplified by ajif^ fpent in a 
 manner fuitable to a worthy and true diffciple^ of his 
 heavenly, divine, crucified mailer and Savioar^JESUs 
 Christ, who lived and fpoke in him and by him. In 
 his younger days, he fufEciently diftinguiihed himfelf, 
 by his parts and progrefs in human literature. After- 
 wards taking the advice of our Saviour to the rich young 
 man, he totally renounced the world and followed 
 Chrift, in meeknefs, humility and felf-denial. And ia 
 his lait years, he was wholly abforbed in his love to Go4 
 and mankind ; fo that virtue in him was nothing but 
 heavenly love and heavenly flame. 
 
 In parts and fenfe, Inferior to none, 
 With wit mod amiable, with learning dored ; 
 His talents great and high were quite fublimed, 
 In loving God with all his heart and mind. 
 His time was all employ 'd in things divine. 
 By ferving God, in goodnefs to mankind. 
 The poor, the maim'd, the blind have loit in him. 
 The kind protestor, and the ready friend. 
 
 Some time after his deceafe the following verfes ap« 
 peared in print ; 
 
 To the memory of that excellent man, and truly il- 
 luminated divine, the late Rev. William Law, 
 A. M. Thefe following lines are offered by one wha 
 has received great benefit from his moil valuable 
 works. 
 
 Farewel, good man ! whofe great and heav'nly mind. 
 In loveembrac'd the whole of human kind. 
 From earth's dark fcene, to realms of joy and light. 
 Thy foul congenial, took her happy flight ; 
 With kindred fpirits mix'd, and bright as they, 
 Thou drink'il with them the dreams of endlefs day : 
 While we below lament thy abfence moil, 
 Like all true worth, then deareft, when 'tis loft. 
 
 A 2 Bound 
 
viii Some Account of 
 
 Bound to no fe£l, to no one party tied, 
 
 To fons of God in ev'ry clime allied : 
 
 Like light's great orb, to no one realm confinM. 
 
 Thy heav'n taught foul capacious grafpM mankind. 
 
 Of pains fevere, thou felt'll the torturing fmart, 
 
 While grace pour'd comfort on thy better part. 
 
 Thy will refign'd, v/ith breath unmurmuring bore, 
 
 "* Thy laft fliarp paflage to the heav'nly (hore. 
 
 Thy heart's beft image, ftill, thy writings, fliine. 
 
 One fpirit breathe, the dove and lamb divine, [charm. 
 
 Though flopt thy tongue, thy foul's ftrong breathings 
 
 Though cold thy clay, thy ardent thoughts flill warm. 
 
 Awak'd by thee, we feel the heav'nly fire, 
 
 And with feraphic flames to God afpire j 
 
 Thy pious zeal transfus'd to other hearts, 
 
 New fprings of blifs, and nobler life imparts. 
 
 No time, no numbers, can exhauft thy mine. 
 
 Thy gifts are full : pofterity is thine. 
 
 Through future ages fhall thy labours go. 
 
 Like ftreams, enriching nations as they flow ; 
 
 Who, while perufing, catch the facred fire, 
 
 Fetch the deep figh, and pant with ftrong defire, 
 
 For glory loft : heav'n let thy pencil rays, 
 
 To paint that glory, and diffufe its blaze. 
 
 Though for thefe days thy colours are too bright. 
 
 And hurt weak eyes by their too radiant light ; 
 
 Yet wifdom's fons, tho' few, to good awake. 
 
 Drink thy fweet fpring, and bread celeftial break. 
 
 ^Midfl Babel's various tongues, tho' thoufands flray. 
 
 In thee, the wanderer finds his mafler's way. 
 
 In heaps, let critics, commentators, lie, 
 
 Thy works will make a chriftian library. 
 
 In vain fhall malice feek to wound thy name. 
 
 Or ignorance thy folid worth defame. 
 
 Hetraft your cenfures, you who dare be good; 
 
 Confefs your heads ne'er yet have underftood 
 
 The pearls, which God to myftic fons reveal'd ; 
 
 From the prefumptuous, wifdom's fount is feal'd. 
 
 Yet this her child, wants no man's Pen to praife. 
 
 Nor flander dreads, in thefe degen'rate days : 
 
 * His end was ha/lened by afupprejfion of urine. 
 
 Far 
 
the Rev, W, Law, i% 
 
 Far nobler monuments will guard his fame, 
 Deep in their breafts the good engrave his name. 
 
 The following is the remarks of Edward Gibbon, 
 Efq. on the Rev. Mr Law, and his works extracted from 
 his memoirs in 2 vols 4to. 
 
 His words are : 
 
 ** Mr Law died at an advanced age, of a fuppreflion 
 of urine, in 1761, at the houfe of Mrs Hefther Gibbon, 
 known by the name of the ClifFe, in Northampton- 
 (hire, where fhe ilill refides. In that family he has 
 left the reputation of a worthy and eminently-pious 
 man, who believed all that he profefled, and pra6lifed 
 all that he enjoined. The charafter of a Non-juror, 
 which he held to the lall, is a fufficient evidence of the 
 tenacioufnefs of his principles in Church and State ; 
 and the facrifice of his intereft to his confcience will be 
 always refpe^lable. 
 
 *' His theological writings, which our domeftic con- 
 cerns induced me to read, preferve an amiable though 
 imperfe£t fort of life, in my opinion ; but here, per- 
 haps, I pronounce with more confidence than know- 
 ledge on the merits of the man no pen can juftify. His 
 laft compofitions feemed tin6lured too much with the 
 myftic enthufiafm of Jacob Behmen •, and his difcourfe 
 on the abfolute unlawfulnefs of the ftage may be cal- 
 led a ridiculous intemperance of fentiment and lan- 
 guage. 
 
 <* But thefe fallies of phrenzy mufl not extinguifh tlie 
 praife that is due to Mr. Law, as a wit and a fcholar. 
 His argument on topics of lefs abfurdity is fpecious and 
 acute *, his manner is lively, his ftyle forcible and clear ; 
 and, had not the vigour of his mind been clouded by 
 enthufiafm, he might be ranked with the moft agreeable 
 and ingenious writers of the times. 
 
 *« While the Bangorian controverfy was'a fafliionable 
 theme, he entered the lills. He refumed the contelt 
 again with Bifhop Hoadly, in which his Non-juring 
 principles appear, though he approves himfelf equal to 
 both Prelates. 
 
 A S «Ott 
 
X Some j^i count of 
 
 « On the appearance of the " Fable of the Bees," he 
 drew his pen againft the hcentioufnefs of the do6lrine 
 of that writer •, and Morality and Religion muft rejoice 
 in his applaufe and vi6tory. 
 
 " Mr Law's mailer-piece, the " Serious Call," is ft ill 
 read as a popular and powerful book of devotion. His 
 precepts are rigid, but they are formed and derived 
 from the Gofpel -, his fatire is Iharp, but his wifdom is 
 from the knowledge of human life •, and many of his 
 portraits are not unworthy the pen of La Bruyere. If 
 there yet exifts a fpark of piety in his reader's mind, he 
 will foon kindle it to a flame •, and a philofopher mull: 
 allow that he is more confiilent in his principles than 
 any of the tribe of myflic writers. He handles with 
 equal feverity and truth the ftrange contradidion be- 
 tween faith and praclice in the Chriftian world. Under 
 the names of Flavia and Miranda, he has admirably de- 
 icribed Mr Gibbon's two aunts, the worldly and the 
 pious fillers." 
 
 Such is the charader this famous hiftorian is com- 
 pelled by the fpirit of truth, to give to the piety and 
 goodnefs of Mr Law, the moft eminent and original 
 writer of his day ; the lift of his works, which we now 
 iufert, tofrether with two excellent letters from clergy- 
 men in the eftabliflied Church, referring to them and 
 him, is taken from the Gent. Mag. Nov. 1800. 
 
 His works are, 
 
 1. A ferious Call to a devout and holy Life, adapted 
 to the State and Condition of all Orders of Chriftians, 
 8vo. 
 
 2. A Practical Treatife upon Chriftian Perfedlion, 
 8vo. 
 
 3. Three Letters to the Bifliop of Bangor, 8vo. 
 
 4. Remarks upon a late Book, entitled, " The Fable 
 of the Bees ; or Private Vices Pubhc Benefits." 8vo. 
 
 5. The abfolute Unlawfulnefs of Stage Entertain- 
 ments fully demonftrated, 8vo. 
 
 6 The Cafe of Reafon, or Natural Religion, fairly 
 and fully ftated, 8vo. 
 
 7. An earneft and ferious Anfwer to Dr. Trapp's Dif- 
 courfe of the Folly, Sin, and Danger, of being righteous 
 over much, Svo, 
 
 8. The 
 
the Rev. W, Law. xi 
 
 S. The Grounds and Reafons of Chrlftian Regene- 
 ration, %vo, 
 
 9. A Demonftratlon of the grofs and fundamental 
 Errors of a late Book, called " A plain Account of the 
 Nature and End of the Sacrament of the Lord's Sup- 
 per," afFe6tionately addrefled to all Orders of Men, and 
 more efpecially to all the younger Clergy, 8vo. 
 
 10. An Appeal to all that doubt or difbelieve the 
 Truths of the Gofpelj 8vo. 
 
 11. The Spirit of Prayer; or the Soul rifmg out of 
 the Vanity of Time into the Riches of Eternity. In 
 Two Parts, 8vo. 
 
 12. The Spirit of Love. In Two Parts, Svo. 
 
 13. The Way to Divine Knowledge ; being feveral 
 Dialogues between Humanus, Academicus, Rullicus, 
 and Theophilus, as preparatory to a new Edition of the 
 Works of Jacob Behmen, and the right Ufe of them^ 
 8vo. 
 
 14-. A fhort but fufncient Confutation of the Rev. 
 Dr Warburton's projected Defence (as he calls it) of 
 Chriftianity, in his Divine Legation of Mofes. In a 
 Letter to the Right Rev. the Lord Bifhop of London. 
 
 15. A Colle^^iou of Letters on the moil interefting 
 and important Subjects, and on feveral Occafions. Svo. 
 
 16. Of Juftification by Faith and Works-, a Dia- 
 logue between a Methodiil and a Churchman, Svo. 
 
 17. An humble, earnefl, and afFedlionate Addrefsto 
 the Clergy, Svo. 
 
 Scarborough^ Decemh.'r 21, 177L 
 
 1. "Sir, 
 
 ** > Sunt certa piaculay qiLe te 
 
 Ter pure leclo poterunt recreare Itbelio." HoR. 
 
 ** As I have an univerfal love and elteem for all man- 
 kind, fo particularly for my brethren of the Eitabliihed 
 Church, of which I fliould think myfelf an unworthy 
 member, did I not take all opportunities of doing good 
 according to the abilities with which God has enabled 
 me. But as I have ever thought a concern for men's 
 A 4f fouls 
 
xii Some Account of 
 
 fouls to be preferable to that of their bodies, fo I have 
 in a more efpecial manner extended my charity to 
 that better part. vVe live in an age wherein numerous 
 obje6ls prefent themfelves to our viev7, that are deftitute 
 of every virtue that can make them worthy of the di- 
 vine favour, and confequently there never will be want- 
 ing occafions for exercifing ourfelves in a laudable en- 
 deavour to their amendment. I, for my own part, 
 though I live, (when at home) in a fmall country village, 
 have had fufficient work upon my hands to bring my 
 parifliioners to any tolerable degree of piety and good- 
 nefs : I preached and laboured amongft them incef- 
 fantly, and yet, after all, was convinced my work had 
 been as fruitlefs as calling pearls before fwine; the 
 drunkard continued his nocturnal practices, and the 
 voice of the fwearer was ftill heard in our ftreets. How- 
 ever, I was determined to leave no means untried for 
 bringing this profane and obdurate people to a fenfe of 
 their duty; accordingly I purchafed many religious 
 books, and diilributed them amongft them : but, alas ! 
 I could perceive no vifible effeds. In (hort, I had the 
 grief to find, that all my labour had proved in vain, and 
 was ready to cry out with St. Paul, Who is fufficient 
 for thefe things? About this time I happened to perufe 
 a treatife of Mr Law's intituled, " A ferious Call to a 
 devout and holy Life-," with which (if I may be allowed 
 the expreflion) I was fo charmed and greatly edified, 
 that I refolved my flock fhould partake of the fame fpi- 
 ritual food j I therefore gave to each perfon in my pa- 
 riih one of thofe ufeful books, and charged them upon 
 my blefling (for I confider them as my children) to care- 
 fully perufe the fame. My perfeverance was now re- 
 warded with fuccefs ; and I had the fatisfa£tion of be- 
 holding my people reclaimed, from a life of folly and 
 impiety, to a life of holinefs and devotion. 
 
 " Before I conclude, I muft beg leave to recommend 
 the afore-mentioned book to the perufal of all your rea- 
 ders ; and I heartily Mafh they may receive as much 
 benefit therefrom, as thofe have who are committed to 
 my charge. 
 
 " This excellent treatife Is wrote In a ftrong and ner- 
 vous ftyle, and abounds with many new and fublime 
 
 thoughts : 
 
the Rev, W Law, ^ xiis 
 
 thoughts : In a word, one may fay of this huxik as §ir 
 Richard Steel did of a difcourfe of Dr. South*sj that it 
 has in it whatever wit and wifdom can put together; and 
 I will venture to add, that whoever fits down without 
 prejudice and attentively reads it throughout, will rife 
 up the wifer man and better Chriftian, 
 
 ** It remains now only that I mention a word or two 
 concerning the author. This worthy clergyman has 
 been accufed (by thofe lukewarm-Chriitians, who ridi- 
 cule all degrees of piety, that are above the common 
 ftandard) of Methodifm ; a charge as falfe as it is cruel. 
 I fay not this as my own private opinion, but from the 
 teilimony of feveral gentlemen of undoubted credit, who 
 are acquainted with his manner of life and converfation. 
 Indeed, this is fufficiently demonftrated in many parts 
 of this author's works, particularly in his Three Letters 
 to the Biihop of Bangor, wherein he writes in vindica- 
 tion of the rites and ceremonies of the Church of England. 
 All which evidently declare the reverend author to be an 
 orthodox divine, and an indefatigable labourer in the 
 Lord's vineyard. 
 
 OliRANIUS.*' 
 
 2. «' Sir, North Crawkyy Feb, eth, 1772. 
 
 ** I perufed the letter figned Ouranius in your paper* 
 with that cordial complacency which every faithful ftew- 
 ard mult feel, from obferving the furtherance of his 
 mafter's intereft : and I devoutly wifh that every other 
 fellow-labourer was as affiduous in fowing the good feedj^ 
 as the enemy feems in fowing the tares. 
 
 " But while I approve and applaud Ouranius's zeal 
 in recommending that excellent practical fummary of 
 Chriftian duty, the Serious Call, I feem to regret the 
 limitation of it to that treatife alone, when to me it ap- 
 pears that a ferious attention to thofe fublime tra6ls of 
 the fame divinely illuminated writer, " The Spirit of 
 Prayer," and '*The Spirit of Love," would be produc- 
 tive of at leaft equal advantages, efpecially at a feafou 
 when the ferpent is winding about, infinuating his dead- 
 
 * This and the Preceeding Letter originally appeared in Lloyd's^ 
 Evening Post, 
 
 A S ly 
 
Xiv Some Account of 
 
 Ijr poifc in arrogant illuflrations, and antichriftlan Fa- 
 mily" Bibles. 
 
 " To know whom we worfliip, to entertain proper 
 notions of GOD, is the firft necelTary principle of true 
 religion. And thefe volumes are calculated to convey 
 fuch exalted and amiable ideas of God, and to unfold in 
 fo rational and delightful a manner, the great myfteries 
 of redemption and regeneration, that whoever perufes 
 them with candour and attention will find in them a 
 perfe£l key to the Holy Scriptures, ** having (if I may 
 be allowed the facred language) the glory of God, and 
 his light, like unto a ftone mofl precious, clear as cryflal." 
 And, befide informing his underftanding, if they do not 
 elevate his heart to an exalted pitch of love and devo- 
 tion to his great benefa6lor, and caufe it to overflow in 
 ftreams of grateful benevolence to all mankind, he muft 
 be among thofe obdurate infenfibles who need our pity 
 and our prayers. 
 
 " The happy effects here promifed are not the mere 
 fpeculative conjedlures of fancy, for I have only defcri- 
 bed what were my own feelings upon the fame occafion. 
 And I will farther venture to declare, that I received 
 more light and fatisfa61:ion from the perufal of thefe lit- 
 tle volumes, than I had been able to extract from many 
 volumes of letter-learned commentators, darkened illuf- 
 t rations and bodies of Divinity, which I had before care- 
 fully read with the fame temper and defire. 
 
 " I am fo far in the fame unfortunate predicament 
 with Ouranius, never to have enjoyed the blefiednefs of 
 that holy man's converfation ; but I have it well authen- 
 ticated that he faithfully pra6lifed what he taught, or, 
 in Burkitt's words, that his was " a preaching life as 
 well as a preaching doctrine." And that pious difregard 
 and contempt of the riches and honours of the world, 
 which he fo pathetically recommends to others, him- 
 felf eminently difplayed in refufing fome of the befb 
 preferments in the bifhop of London's gift, when prof- 
 ierred by his friend Dr Sherlock, in reward of the un- 
 anfwerable letters to the bifhop of Bangor. 
 
 " The charge of Methodifm I never heard infinuated 
 againft him, and could proceed only from thofe who 
 n;ult be totally ignorant of the tenets of that fe(Sl, or un- 
 acquainted 
 
He Rev. W, Law. ^V 
 
 Acquainted with any among the writings of our able de- 
 fender of church difcipline and authority, and efpeci- 
 ally of the laft except one, « on Juftification by Faith 
 and Works." 
 
 *« But not to leave myfelf liable to reprehenfion for 
 the partiality I have noticed in another, I am perfuaded, 
 that whoever has imbibed knowledge at this pure foun- 
 tain will never ceafe thirfting while there remains, a 
 drop of the facred fpring untafted. And that every 
 fcrip of that divinely-directed pen may be as extenfive 
 as was the writer's benevolence, is the ardent prayer of 
 your fincere well-wifher^ 
 
 « Theophilos." 
 Yours, &c- Z. Cozens, 
 
 The followng are the Author's Letters to a Friend. 
 LETTER I*. 
 
 Worthy and dear Sir, 
 
 My heart embraces you, with all dre tendernefs and 
 aff^6tion of chriftian love ; and I earneftly beg of God 
 to make me a mefTenger of his peace to your foul. 
 
 You feem to apprehend I may be much furprifed at 
 the account you have given of yourfelf. But, Sir, I am 
 neither furprifed nor offended at it. I neither condemn 
 nor lament your ftate : but (hall endeavour to fhew you 
 how foon it may be made a bleihng and happinefs to you. 
 In order to which, I fhall not enter into a confideration 
 of the different kinds of trouble you have fet forth at 
 large. I think it better to lay before you the one true 
 ground and root, from whence all the evil and diforders 
 of human life have fprung. This will make it eafy for 
 you to fee what that is, which muft and only can, be the 
 full remedy and relief for all of them, how different fo- 
 ever, either in kind or degree. 
 
 The fcripture has aiTured us, that God made man in 
 his own image and likenefs ', a fufficient proof, that man, 
 in his firft ftate, as he came forth from God, muft have 
 
 * Thefirjt of thefe Letters tuas written in the year 1749, 
 
 thefecond) in the year 1 750, and the lajl about the year 175S. 
 
 A 6 been 
 
xvi Some Jccount of 
 
 been abfolutely free from ail vanity, want, or diflrefs of 
 sny kind, from anything, either within or without him. 
 It would be quite abfurd and blafphemous to fuppofe, 
 that a creature beginning to exift in the image and like- 
 nefs of God, fhould have a vanity of life, or vexation o£ 
 fpirit. A God-like peifeftion of nature, and a painful 
 diftreffed nature, (land in the utmoft contrariety to one 
 another. 
 
 Again, the fcripture has affured us, that man that is 
 born of a woman hath but a fhort time to live, and is full 
 of mifery : therefore man now is not that creature that 
 he was by his creation. The firft divine and God-like 
 nature of Adam, which was to have been irn mortally 
 holy in union with God is loft, and inftead of it, a poor 
 mortal of earthly flefh and blood, born like a wild afles 
 colt, of a (hort life, and full of mifery, is, through a vain 
 pilgrimage, to end in duft and afhes. Therefore let e- 
 very evil, whether inward or outward, only teach you 
 this truth, that man has infallibly loft his firft divine life 
 in God •, and that no poffible comfort, or deliverance, is 
 to be expedVed, but only in this one thing, that though 
 man had loft his God, yet God is become man, that man 
 may be again alive in God, as at his firft creation. For 
 uii the mifery and diftrefs of human nature, whether of 
 body or mind, is wholly owing to this one caufe, that 
 God is not in man, nor man in God, as the ftate of his 
 nature requires : it is beicaufe man has loft that firft life 
 of God in his foul, in and for which he was created. He 
 loft this light and fpirit and life of God, by turning 
 his will, imagination, and defire into a tafting and fenfi- 
 bility of the good and evil of this earthly, beitial world. 
 
 Now here are two things raifed up in man, inftead of 
 the life of God :— Firft *, felt or felfillmefs, brought forth 
 by his chufmg to have a wifdom of his own, contrary to 
 the will and inftruclion of his Creator.— Secondly •, an 
 earthly beftial, mortal life and body, brought forth by 
 his eating that food, which was poifon to his paradifical 
 nature. Both thefemuft therefore be removed; that is, 
 a man muft firft totally die to felf, and all earthly defires, 
 views and intentions, before he can be again in God, as 
 his nature and firft creation requires. 
 
 But now, if this be a certain and immutable truth, that 
 
 man 
 
the Rev, W. Law, xviz 
 
 man, fo long as he is a felfifli earthly minded creature, 
 muft be deprived of his true life, the life of God, the fpi- 
 rit of heaven in his foul ; then how is the face of things 
 changed ! for then, what life is fo much to be dreaded, 
 as a life of worldly eafeand profperity ? what a mifery, 
 nay, what a curfe, is there in every thing that gratifies 
 and nourifhes our felf-love, felf-efteem, and felf-feeking? 
 On the other hand, what a happinefs is there in all in- 
 ward and outward troubles and vexations, when they 
 force us to feel and kn.ow the hell that is hidden within 
 us, and the vanity of every thing without us : when they 
 turn our felf-love into felf-abhorrence, and force us to 
 call upon God, to fave us from ourfelves, to give us a 
 new life, new light, and new fpirit in Chrift Jefus. 
 
 O happy famine ! might the poor prodigal have well 
 faid, « which by reducing me to the neceflity of afking 
 to eat huiks with fvvine, brought me to myfelf, and 
 caufed my return to my firft happinefs, in my father's 
 houfe." 
 
 Now, fir, I will fuppofe your diftrefled ftate to be as 
 you reprefent it; inwardly, darknefs, heavinefs and con- 
 fufion of thoughts and pafTions ; outwardly, ill ufage 
 from friends, relations, and all the world -, unable to 
 ftrike up the leaft fpark of light or comfort, by any 
 thought or reafoning of your own. 
 
 O happy famine, which leaves you not fo much as the 
 hufk of one human comfort to feed upon ! For, my dear 
 friend, this is the time and place for all that good and 
 life, and falvation, to happen to you, which happened 
 to the prodigal fon. Your way is as fhort, and- your 
 fuccefs as certain, as his was. You have no more to do 
 than he had. You need not call out for books and 
 methods of devotion : for, in your prefent ftate, much 
 reading, and borrowed prayers, are not your beft me- 
 thod. All that you are to offer to God, all that is to 
 help you to find him to be your Saviour and Redeemer, 
 is beft taught and expreffed by the diftrefled ftate of your 
 heart. . 
 
 Only let your prefent and paft diftrefs make you feel 
 and acknowledge this two-fold great truth : firft, that 
 in and of yourfelf, you are nothing but darknefs, vanity 
 ^nd mifery. Secondly, that of yourfelf, you can no 
 
 more 
 
Xviii Some Account of 
 
 more help yourfelf to light and comfort, than you can 
 create an angel. People, at all times, can feem to afTent 
 to thefe two truths, but then it is an aflent that has no 
 depth or reality, and io is of little or no ufe. But your 
 , condition has opened your heart, for a deep and full 
 convifbion of thefe truths. Now give way, I befeech 
 you to this convidion, and hold thefe two truths in the 
 fame degree of certainty, as you know two and two to 
 be four ; and then, my dear friend, you are, with the 
 prodigal, come to yourfelf -y and above half your 
 
 WORK IS DONE. 
 
 Being now in the full poffeffion of thefe two truths, 
 feeling them in the fame degree of certainty, as you feel 
 your own exiftence, you are under this fenfibility to 
 give yourfelf abfolutely and entirely to God in Chrift 
 Jefus, as into the hands of infinite love : firmly believing 
 this great and infallible truth, that God has no will to- 
 wards you, but that of infinite love, and infinite defire to 
 make you a partaker of his divine naturej and that it is as 
 abfolutely impofiible for the Father of our Lord Jefus 
 Chrift, to refufe you all that good, and life, and falvation, 
 which you want, as it is for you to take it by your own 
 power. 
 
 O, fir, drink deep of this cup ; for the precious water 
 of eternal life is in it. Turn unto God with this faith; 
 caft yourfelf into this abyfs of love j and then you will 
 be in that ftate the prodigal was in, when he faid, I will 
 arife and go to my father, and will fay unto him, father, 
 I have finned againfi: heaven, and before thee, and am 
 no more worthy to be called thy fon ; and all that, will 
 be fulfilled in you, which is related of him. 
 
 Make this, therefore the two-fold exercife of your 
 heart : Now, bowing yourfelf down before God, in the 
 deepeft ienie and acknowledgment of your own nothing- 
 nefs and vilenefs ; then, looking up to God in faith and 
 love, confider him as always extending the arms of his 
 mercy towards you, and full of an infinite defire to dwell 
 in you, as he dwells in the angels in heaven. Content 
 yourfelf with this inward and fimple exercife of your 
 heart, for a while ; and feek, or like nothing in any book 
 but that which nourilhes and ftrengtheas this ftate of 
 your heart. 
 
the Rev, W, Law, xix 
 
 Come unto me, fays the holy Jefus, all ye that labour, 
 and are heavy laden, and I will refrefh you. Here, my 
 dear friend, is more for you to live upon, more light 
 for your mind, more of unction for your heart, than in 
 volumes of human inilruction. Pick up the vi^ords of . 
 the holy Jefus, and beg of him to be the light and life 
 of your foul : Love the found of his name ; for Jesus 
 is the love, the fweetnefs, the meeknefs, the compaf- 
 fionate goodnefs of the deity itfelf ; which became man, 
 that fo men might have power to become the fons of 
 God. Love, pity, and wifli well to every foul in the 
 world ; dwell in love, and then you dwell in God : hate 
 nothing but the evil that ftirs in your own heart. 
 
 Teach your heart this prayer till your heart continu- 
 ally faith, though not with outward words : " O holy 
 Jefus, meek Lamb of God ! Bread that came down from 
 heaven ! Light and life of all holy fouls ! help me to a 
 true and living faith in thee. O do thou open thyfelf 
 within me, with all thy holy nature, fpirit, tempers, and 
 inclinations, that I may be born again of theej and be 
 in thee a new creature, quickened and revived, led and 
 governed by thy holy fpirit." 
 
 Yours in all Chriilian affe<£lIon, 
 
 W. LAW, 
 
 LETTER IL 
 
 July 20. 
 My dear worthy Friend^ 
 
 Whom I heartily love in the unity of the fpirit of 
 Chrift. Your long letter I received fome time the iaft 
 month, and read with much pleafure. For, long as it 
 was, I did not wifh it to be fliorter. I blefs God for that 
 good and right fpirit, which breathed in every part of 
 it. As it required no immediate anfwer, and you left 
 me to my own time, fo I did not intend to write till lafl: 
 week 5 but by accidental affairs, have been hindered 
 from complying with my intention till now. 
 
 Your judgment has failed you in nothing, but in 
 thinking your letter would be difagreeable to me-, or that 
 myanfwer was deferred on that account. Every crea- 
 ture has my lovej but perfons of your fpirit kindle in me 
 
 every 
 
XX Some Account of 
 
 every Iioly affe£lion of honour and efteem towards them; 
 Love with its fruits of meeknefs, patience, and humility, 
 is all that I wifh, for myfelf, and every human creature e 
 For this is to live in God, united to him, both for time 
 and eternity. Would you have done with error, fcru- 
 ple and deluiion, confider the Deity (as I have faid) to 
 be the greateft love, the greateft meeknefs, the greateil 
 fweetriefs-, the eternal unchangeable will to be a good 
 and bleffing to every creature *, and that all the mifery, 
 darknefs and death, of fallen angels, and fallen men, con- 
 fifts in their having loft this divine nature. Confider 
 yourfelf, and all the fallen world, as having nothing to 
 feek or wifh for, but by the fpirit of prayer to draw into 
 the life of your foul, rays and fparks of this divine, meek, 
 loving, tender nature of God. Confider the holy Jefus 
 as the gift of God to your foul, to begin and fini{h the 
 birth of God and heaven within you, in fpite of every 
 inward or outward enemy. Thefe three infallible truths 
 heartily embraced, and made the nourilhment of your 
 foul, fhorten and fecure the way to heaven, and leave no 
 room for error, fcruple, or delufion. The poverty of our 
 fallen nature, the depraved workings of flefh and blood, 
 the corrupt tempers of our polluted birth in this world, 
 do us no hurt, fo long as the fpirit of prayer works con- 
 trary to them, and longs for the firft birth of the light 
 and fpirit of heaven. 
 
 All our natural evil ceafes to be our own evil, as foon 
 as our wiJl-fpirit turns from it: It then changes its na- 
 ture, lofes all its poifon and death, and only becomes 
 our holycrofs, on which we happily die from felf, and 
 this world, into the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 I much congratulate you on your manner of prayer : 
 fo praclifed, it becomes the life of the foul, and the true 
 food of eternity. Keep in this ftate of application to 
 God, and then you will infallibly find it to be the way 
 of riling out of the vanity of time, into the riches of 
 eternity. 
 
 Do not expe£l or look for the fame degrees of fenfible 
 fervour. — The matter lies not there — Nature will have 
 its fhare ; but the ups and downs of that are to be over- 
 looked. — Wliuft your will-fpirit is good, and i^t rights 
 the changes of c^eaturely fervour leflbn not your union 
 
 with 
 
theRev^ W, Law. xxi 
 
 with God. It is the abyfs of the heart, an unfathom* 
 able depth of eternity within us, as much above fenfible 
 fervour, as heaven is above earth j it is this that works 
 our way to God, and unites us with heaven. This 
 abyfs of the heart, is the divine nature and power within 
 us, which never calls upon God in vain, but whether 
 helped or defer ted by bodily fervour, penetrates through 
 all outward nature, as eafily and efFedtually as our 
 thoughts can leave our bodies, and reach into the regi- 
 ons of eternity 
 
 I am, with hearty prayers to 
 God for you. 
 
 Your truly affe£lIonate 
 Friend and fervant, 
 W. LAW. 
 
 LETTER IIL 
 
 My dear I,— 
 
 I am greatly rejoiced at your exprefflng fo feeling a 
 fenfe of the benefit of prayer ; and hope you will every 
 day be more and more raifed to, and united with God, 
 by it. 
 
 I love no myfterious depths, or heights of fpecula- 
 tion, covet no knowledge, want to fee no ground of 
 nature, grace, and creature, but fo far as it brings me 
 nearer to God, forces me to forget and renounce every 
 thing for him, to do every thing in him, and for him j 
 and to give every breathing, moving, ftirring inten- 
 tion and defire of my heart, foul, fpirit and life to him. 
 
 It is for the fake of the fpirit of prayer, that I have 
 endeavoured to fet fo many points of religion in fuch a 
 view as mud difpofe the reader, wilUngly to give up all 
 that he inherits from his fallen father, to be all hunger 
 and third after God, and have no thought or care, 
 but how to be wholly his devoted inftrument, every- 
 where, and in every thing, his adoring, joyful, and 
 
 thankful fervant. 
 
 When 
 
xxii Some Account of 
 
 When it is the one ruling, never ceafing defire of our 
 hearts, that God may be the beginning and end, the 
 reafon and motive, of our doing or not doing, from 
 morning to night •, then every where, whether fpeaking 
 or filent, whether inwardly or outwardly employed, we 
 are equally offered up to the eternal Spirit, have our 
 life in him, and from him, and are united tO' him by 
 that fpirit of prayer, which is the comfort, the fupport, 
 the ftrength, and fecurity of the foul, travelling, by the 
 help of God, through the vanity of time into the riches 
 of eternity. 
 
 My dear friend, have eyes {hut and ears {lopped, to 
 every thing, that is not a ilep in that ladder that reach- 
 es from earth to heaven. 
 
 Reading is good, hearing is good, converfation and 
 meditation are good ; but then they are only good at 
 times and occafions, in a certain degree : and mu{l be 
 ufed and governed with fuch caution, as we eat and 
 drink, and refrelh ourfelves, or they will bring forth in 
 us the fruits of intemperance. 
 
 But the fpirit of prayer, is for all times, and all occa- 
 {lons ; it is a lamp that is to be always burning, a light 
 that is ever {hining: Every thing calls for it, every thing 
 is to be done in it, and governed by it. Becaufe it is, 
 and means, and wills nothing elfe, but the totality of 
 the foul, not doing this, or that, but wholly, inceffantly 
 given up to God, to be where, and what, and how he 
 pieafes. 
 
 This ftate of abfolute refignatlon, naked faith, and 
 pure love of God, is the highelt perfe6lion and molt pu- 
 rified life; of thofe who are born again from above, and 
 through the Divine Power, become fons of God. And 
 is neither more nor lefs, than what our bleffed Redeemer 
 has called and quali{ied uSv to long and afpire after, in 
 thefe words, " Thy kingdom come; thy will be done, on 
 earth as in heaven. 
 
 Near the conclufion of yours, you fay, fmce your laft 
 to me, you have met with a great many trials difagree- 
 able to flelh and blood, but that adhering to God, is al- 
 ways your bleffed relief. 
 
 Yet permit me on this occafion, to tranfcribe a me- 
 morandum 
 
the Rev. W. Law. xxiii 
 
 morandum or two, from an old fcrap of paper, which 
 has long lain by me for my own ufe. 
 
 1 . Receive every inward and outward trouble, every 
 difappointment, pain, uneafnieijs, darknefs, temptation, 
 and defolation, with both thy hands, as a true oppor- 
 tunity, and blefled occaiion, of dying to felf, and en- 
 tering into a fuller fellowfhip with thy felf-denying, 
 fuffering Saviour. 
 
 2. Look at no in Ward, or outward trouble, in any 
 other view, rejeft every other thought about itj and tlieu 
 every kind of trial and diitrefs, will become the blefled 
 day of thy profperity. 
 
 3. Be afraid of ifeeking or finding comfort in any 
 thing but God alone. For that which gives thee com- 
 fort, takes fo much of thy heart from God. " Quid eft 
 cor purum ? cui ex toto, et pure fufficit folus Deus, cui 
 nihil fapit, quod nihil dele^tat, nifi Deus." That is. 
 What is a pure heart? One to which God alone is totally 
 and purely fufBcientj to which nothing relifhes or gives 
 delight, but God alone. 
 
 4. That ft ate is beft, which exercifeth the higheft 
 faith in, and fulleft rcfignation to God. 
 
 5. What is it that you want and feek, but that God 
 may be all in ail in you ? But how can this be, unlefs 
 all creaturely good and evil, become as nothing in you, 
 and to you ? 
 
 " Oh anima mea, abftrahe te ab omnibus. Quid tibi 
 cum mutabilibus creaturis ? Solum fponfutn tuinny qui 
 omnium eft author creaturarum, expe^lans, hoc age, ut 
 cor tuum ille liberum et expeditum femper inveniat, 
 quoties illi ad ipfum venire placuerit." That is, O my 
 foul ! withdraw thyfelf from all things. What haft 
 thou to do with changeable creatures ? Waiting and 
 expe61:ing thy bridegroom, who is the author of all 
 creatures, let it be tliy only care, that he may find thy 
 heart free and difengaged, as often as it fliail pleafe him 
 to vifit thee. 
 
 I thank you for your kind offer about the manufcript 
 in the fale, but have no curiofity that w.iy. I have had 
 all that I can have from books. I leave the reii: to God. 
 I have formerly given away many of the lives oi good 
 
 Arnielkf 
 
xxlv Sotne Account y &c. 
 
 Armelky fo can have no diflike to your doing the fame. 
 i have often wifhed for fome, or feveral little things of 
 that kind, though more according t^p my mind ; by 
 which the meaneft capacities might, in an ealy manner, 
 be led into the heart and fpirit of religion. 
 
 Dear Man, adieiu 
 
SEEIOUS CAILI, 
 
 TO A 
 
 DEVOUT ^ HOLY LIFE. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Concerning the Nature and Extent of Chrijiian Devotiotf, 
 
 DEVOTION is neither private nor public prayer ; 
 but Prayers, whether private or public, are par- 
 ticular parts or inftances of Devotion, Devotion figni- 
 iies a life given, or devoted God. 
 
 He therefore is the devout Man, who lives no longer 
 to his own will, or the way and fpirit of the world, but 
 to the fdle will of God, who confiders God in every 
 thing, who ferves 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 meafure of our prayers, that in them we are to 
 look wholly unto him, and a6l wholly for him, that we 
 are only to pray in fuch a manner, for fuch things, and 
 fuch ends as are fuitable to his glory. 
 
 Now let any one but find out the reafon why he is to 
 be thus ftri£l:ly pious in his prayers, and he will find the 
 fame as ftrong a reafon to be as ftriclily pious in all the 
 other parts of his life. For there is not the lead fhadow 
 of a reafon, why we fliould make God the rule and mea- 
 fure of our prayers, why we fliould then look wholly 
 unto him, and pray according to his will j but what 
 
 equally 
 
28 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 to avoid his company. But if a perfon only tells him, 
 that he may live as the generality of the world does, that 
 he may enjoy himfelf as others do ; that he may fpend 
 his time and money as people of fafliion do, that he may 
 conform to the follies and frailties of the generality, and 
 gratify his tempers and paifions as moft people do, Ju- 
 lius never fufpefts that man to want a chriftian fpirit, 
 or that he is doing the devil's work. 
 
 And yet if Julius was to read all the New Teftament 
 from the beginning to the end, he would find his courfe 
 of life condemned in every page of it. 
 
 And indeed there cannot any thing be imagined mor-e 
 abfurd in itfelf, than wife and fublime, and heavenly 
 Prayers added to a life of vanity and folly, where neither 
 labour nor diverfions, neither time nor money, are under 
 the direction of the wifdom and heavenly tempers of our 
 Prayers. If we were to fee a man pretending to a6t 
 wholly with regard to God in every thing that he did, 
 that would neither fpend time or money, or take any la- 
 bour or diverfion, but fo far as he could adt according 
 to ftri6t principles of reafon and piety, and yet at the 
 fame time negle£i: all prayer, whether public or private, 
 Ihould we not be amazed at fuch a man, and wonder 
 how he could have fo much folly along with fo much 
 religion ? 
 
 Yet this is as reafonable as for any perfon to pretend to 
 ilridtnefs in devotion, to be careful of obferving times 
 and places of Prayer, and yet letting the reft of his life, 
 his time and labour, his talents and money be difpofed 
 of, without any regard to i\nO: rules of piety and devo- 
 tion, for it is as great an abfurdity to fuppofe holy pray- 
 ers, and divine petitions, without an holinefs of life fuita- 
 ble to them, as to fuppofe an holy and divine life with- 
 out prayers. 
 
 Let any one therefore think, how eafily he could con- 
 fute a man that pretended to great ftri(Sl:nefs of life with- 
 out prayer, and the fame arguments will as plainly con- 
 fute another, that pretends to ftridnefs of prayer, 
 without carrying the fame ftriiSlnefs into every other 
 part of life. For to be weak and foolifh in fpending our 
 time and fortune, is no greater a miftake, than to be 
 \veak and foolifh in relation to our prayers. And to 
 
 allow 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 2S 
 
 allow ourfelves in any ways of life that neither are, nor 
 can be offered to God, is the f.\me irreligion as to ne- 
 glect our prayers, or ufe them in fuch a manner, as 
 makes them an offering unworthy of God. 
 
 The fhort of the matter is this, either reafon and re- 
 ligion prefcribe rules and ends to all the ordinary actions 
 of our life, or they do not : If they do, then it is as ne- 
 ceffary to govern all our a£tions by thofe rules, as it is 
 neceffary to worffiip God. For if religion teaches us 
 any thing concerning eating and drinking, or fpending 
 our time and money, if it teaches us how we are to ufe 
 and contemn the world ; if it tells us what tempers we 
 are to have in common life, how we are to be difpofed 
 towards all people, how we are to behave towards the 
 fick, the poor, the old and deftitute ; if it tells us whom 
 we are to treat with a particular love, whom we are to 
 regard with a particular efteem : if it tells us how we 
 are to treat our enemies, and how we are to mortify and 
 deny ourfelves, he may be very weak, that can think 
 thefe parts of religion are not to be obferved with as 
 much exa^lnefs, as any doctrine that relate to prayers. 
 
 It is very obfervable, that there is not one command 
 in all the gofpel for public worfhip -, and perliaps it is a 
 duty that is lead infiited upon in fcripture of any other. 
 The frequent attendance at it is never fo much as men- 
 tioned in all the New Teftament. Whereas that reli- 
 gion or devotion, which is to govern the ordinary alliens 
 of our life, is to be found in almod every verfe of fcrip- 
 ture. Our bleffed Saviour and his apoitles are wholly 
 taken up in do£trines that relate to common life. They 
 call us to renounce the world, and differ in every temper 
 and way of life, from the fpirit and way of the world. To 
 renounce ail its goods, to fear none of its evils, to reject 
 its joys, and have no value for its happinefs. To be as new 
 born babes, that are born into a new itateof thingSjto live 
 as pilgrims in fpiritnal watching, in holy fear, and hea- 
 venly afpiring after another life. To take up our daily 
 crofs, to deny ourfelves, to profefs the blellednefs o£ 
 mourning, to feek the bleffednefs of poverty of fpirit* 
 To forfake the pride and vanity of riches, to take no 
 thought for the morrow, to live in the profoundeit (late 
 of humility, to rejoice in worldly fufferings. To reject 
 
 B the 
 
30 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 the Jufl of the fiefii, the liift of the eyes, and the pride 
 of life ; to bear injuries, to forgive and blefs our ene- 
 mies, and to Jove mankind as God loveth them. To 
 give up our vi'hole hearts and affe£tions to God, and 
 llrive to enter through the ftraight gate into a Hfe of e- 
 ternal glory. 
 
 This is the common devotion which our blefled Sa- 
 ^'iour taught, in order to make it the common life of all 
 chriflians. Is it not therefore exceeding ftrange, that 
 people fliould place fo much piety in the attendance of 
 public worlbip, concerning vi^hich there is not one pre- 
 cept of our Lord's to be found, and yet negle<Sl thefe 
 common duties of our ordinary life, which are com- 
 manded in every page of the gofpel ? I call thefe duties 
 the devotion of our common life, becaufe if they arc to 
 be pra6lifed, they muft be made parts of our common 
 life, they can have no place any where elfe. 
 
 If contempt of the world, and heavenly afFcvSlion, is a 
 necefiary temi.er of Chriftians, it is necefiary 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 faved muft make it a part of their ordinary 
 life. If humility be a chriftian duty, then the commion 
 life of a Chriftian is to be a conftant courfe of humility 
 in all its kinds. If poverty of fpirit be necefiary, it m^uft 
 be the fpirit and temper of every day of our lives. If 
 we are to relieve the naked, the fick, and the prifoner, it 
 muft be the common charity of our lives, as far as we can 
 render ourfelves able to perform it. If we are to love our 
 enemies, we m.uft make our common life a vifible exer- 
 cife and demonftration of that love. If content and 
 thankfulnefs, if the patient bearing of evil be duties to 
 God, they are the duties of every day, and in every cir- 
 cumftance of our life. If we are to be wife and holy as 
 the new-born fons of God, we can no otherwife be fo, 
 but by renouncing every thing that is foolifli and vain in 
 every part of our common life. If we are to be in Chrift 
 new Creatures, we muft ftiew that we are fo, by having 
 new wavs of living in the world. If we are to follow 
 
 Chrift, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY> LIFE. 31 
 
 Chrifl, it mufl be in our common way of fpending every 
 
 Thus it is in all the virtues and holy tempers of chri- 
 flianity, they are not ours, unlefs they be the virtues and 
 tempers of our ordinary life. So that Chriftianity is fo 
 far from leaving us to live in the common ways of life, 
 conforming to the folly of cuifoms, and gratifying the 
 paffions and tem.pers which the fpirit of the world de- 
 lights in, it is fo far from indulging us in any of thefe 
 things, that all its virtues which it makes neceflary to 
 fulvation, are only fo many ways of living above, and 
 contrary to the world in all the common actions of our 
 life. If our common life is not a common courfe of hu- 
 mility, felf-denial, renunciation of the world, poverty of 
 fpirit, and heavenly affedtion, we do not live the lives of 
 Chriftians. 
 
 But yet though it is thus plain, that this and this alone 
 is Chriftianity, an uniform, open, and vifible pradlice of 
 all thefe virtues j yet it is as plain, that there is little or 
 nothing of this to be found, even amongft the better fort 
 of people. You fee them often at church, and pleafed 
 'with fine preachers ; but look into their lives, and you. 
 fee them juft the fame fort of people as others are, that 
 make no pretences to devotion. The difference that 3^ou 
 find betv/ixt them, is only the difference of their natural 
 tempers. They have the fame tafte of the v/orld, the 
 fame worldly cares, and fears, and joys ; they have the 
 fame turn of mind, equally vain in their defires. You 
 fee the f^ime fondnefs for ftate and equipage, the fame 
 pride and vanity of drefs, the fame felf-love and indul- 
 gence, the fame foolilli friendfhips and groundlefs ha- 
 treds, the fame levity of mind and trifling fpirit, the fame 
 fondnefs for diverfions, the fame idle difpofitions and 
 vain ways of fpending their time in vifiting and conver- 
 fation, as, the reft of the world, that make no pretences 
 to devotion. 
 
 I do not mean this comparifon betwixt people feem.- 
 ingly good and profefled rakes, but betwixt people of 
 fobcr lives. Let us take an inftance in two modeft wo- 
 men : let it be fuppofed, that one of them is careful of 
 times of devotion, and obferves them through a fenfe of 
 duty, and that the other has no hearty concern about it, 
 I B 2 but 
 
32 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 but is at church feldom or often, jull as it happens. 
 Now it is a very eafy thing to fee this difference betwixt 
 thefe perfons. But when you have feen this, can you 
 find any farther difference betwixt them ? Can you find 
 that their common Ufe is of a different kind ? Are not 
 the tempers, and cuftoms, and manners of the one, of 
 the fame kind as of the other ? Do they live as if they 
 belonged to different worlds, had different views in their 
 lieads, and different rules and meafures of all their ac- 
 tions ? Have they not the fame goods and evils, are they 
 not pleafcd and difpleafed in the fame manner, and for 
 the fame things ? Do they not live in the fame courfe of 
 life ? Does one fecm to be of this world, looking 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 pleafure, delighting herfelf infhew 
 or drefs, and the other live in felf-denial and mortifica- 
 tion, renouncing every thing that looks like vanity either 
 of perfon, drefs, or carriage ? Does the one follow pub- 
 lic divcrfions, and trifle away her time in idle vifits and 
 corrupt converfation j and does the other ftudy all the 
 arts of improving her time, living in prayer and watch- 
 ing, and fuch good v/crks as may make all her time turn 
 to her advantage, and be placed to her account at the laft 
 day ? Is the one carelefs of expence, and glad to be a- 
 ble to adorn herfelf with every coflly ornament of drefs? 
 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 fpent in vain and needlefs ornaments, than it 
 is to be buried in the earth ? 
 
 "Where miuft you look to find one perfon of religion 
 differing in this mianner, from another that has none ? 
 And yet, if they do not differ in thefe things, which are 
 here related, can it with any fenfe be faid, the one is a 
 good Chriftian and the other not ? 
 
 Take another inflance amongft the men. Leo has a 
 great deal of good nature, has kept what they call good 
 company, hates every thing that is falfe and bafe ; is very 
 generous and brave to his friends, but has concernec 
 himfelf fo little with religion, that he hardly knows the 
 difference betwixt a Jew and a Chriflian. 
 
 Eufebius, on tlie other hand, has had early impreffion.' 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. ^S 
 
 of religion, and buys books of devotion. He can talk 
 of all the feaits and falls of the church, and knows the 
 names of moll men that have been eminent for piety. 
 You never hear him i\vear or make a loofe jell ; 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 way of the world, to be reckoned a 
 pious Chriflian, and the other is fo far from all appear- 
 ance of Religion, that he may fairly be reckoned a Hea- 
 then •, and yet if you look into their common life, if you 
 examine tlieir chief and ruling tempers in the greatell ar- 
 ticles of life, or the greateil dotlrines cf Chriilianity, 
 you will fmd the leail difference imaginable. 
 
 Confider them with regard to the uie of the world, 
 becaufe there is what every body can fee. 
 
 Now to have right notions and tempers with relation 
 to this world, is as eiTential to religion, as to have right 
 notions of God. And it is as poIiiDle for a man to wor- 
 fhip a Crocodile, and yet be a pious man, as to have his 
 affections fet upon this world, and yet be a good Chrif- 
 tian. 
 
 But now, if ycu confider Leo and Eufebius in this re- 
 fpe£l, you will find them exa£lly alike, feeking, utlng, 
 and enjoying all that can be got in this world, in the 
 fame manner and for the fame ends. You will find that 
 riches, profperity, pleafures, indulgences, ftate, equipage, 
 and honour are juil as much the happinefs of Eufebius 
 as they are of Leo. And yet if Ciiriftianity has not 
 changed a man's mdnd and temper with relation to thefe 
 things, what can we fay that it has done for him ? 
 
 For if the doctrines of Chriilianity were pracSlifed, 
 they would make a man as different from other people 
 as to all worldly tempers, fenfual pleafures, and the 
 pride of life, as a v/ife man is different from a natural •, it 
 would be as eafy a thing to know a Chriflian by his out- 
 ward courfe of life, as it is now dilhcult to find any bo- 
 dy that lives it. For it is notorious that Chriilians are 
 now not only like other men in their frailties and infir- 
 mities, this might be in fome degree excufable ; bi:t the 
 com.plaint is, they are like heathens in all the main and 
 chief articles of tlieir lives. They enjoy the world, and 
 13 3 livQ 
 
34 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 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 bo- 
 dy, that is capable of any refletlion, muft have obferved, 
 that this is generally the flate even of devout people, 
 whether men or women. You may fee them different 
 from other 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 Chriftian Devotion 
 to an Heathen life : I have the authority of our Blelled 
 Saviour for this remark, where he fays, Take no tkoughty 
 faying lukatJJjall nve eat^ cr whatjhall ive drink, or ivhere' 
 ivithal Jhall ive he c loathed P for after all thefe things do the 
 Gcjitiles feeh. But if to be thus affected even with the 
 iieceiliiry things of this life, Ihews that we are not yet of 
 a Chriftian Spirit, but are like the Heathens; furely to 
 enjoy tiie vanity and folly of the world as they did, to 
 be like them in the main chief tempers of our lives, in 
 ielf-love and indulgence, in fenfual pleafures and diver- 
 fions, in the vanity of drefs, the love of fliew and great- 
 nefs, or any other gaudy diftinftion of fortune, is a much 
 greater fign of an Heathen temper. And confequently 
 they who add Devotion to fuch a life, muft be faid to 
 pray as Chriftians, but live as Heathens. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 u4n. Enquiry into the Reafon, ivhy the generality of Chrif- 
 , tians fall fo far fhcrt of the Holimfs and Devotion of 
 Chriflianity. 
 
 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 Chriftia- 
 nitv. 
 
 But before I give a direcSl: anfwer to this, I defire it 
 may rl^o be enquired, how it ccm.es to pafs that fwearing 
 is fo common a vice amongft Chriliians ; It is indeed 
 not yet fo common amongft women, as it is amongft 
 
 men. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. l^d 
 
 men. But amongd men this fm is fo common, that- 
 perhaps there are more than two in three that are guilty 
 of it Uirougii the whole courfe of their lives, fwearing 
 more or lefs, juft as it happens, fome conilantly, others 
 only now and then, as it were by chance. Now I aflc 
 how conies it that tv/o in tiiree of the men are guilty of 
 fo grofs and prophane a fm as this ? There is neither ig- 
 norance nor human infirmity to plead for it : It is againiL 
 an exprefs commandment, and the moll plain Doctrine 
 of our blelTed Saviour. 
 
 T)o but now find the reafon why the generality of men 
 live in this notorious vice^ and then you will have found 
 the reafon why the generality even of the better fort of 
 people live fo contrary to Chriitianity. 
 
 Now the reafon of common fwearing is this : It is be~ 
 caufe men hajv;e_not fo much as the intention to' pleafe 
 God in all their actions. For let a man but have fo 
 much piety as to intend to pleafe God in all the aQions 
 of his life, as the happieft and bed thing in the world, 
 and then he will never fwear more. It will be as impof- 
 fible for him to fwear, whilft he feels this intention 
 within himfelf, as it is impodible for a man that in- 
 tends to pleafe his Prince, to go up and abufe him to his 
 face. 
 
 It feems but a fmall and necelTary part of piety to 
 have fuch a fmcere intention as this ; and that he has 
 no reafon to look upon himfelf ^s a Difciple of Chriit, 
 who is not thus far advanced in piety. And yet it is 
 purely for want of this degree of piety, that you fee fuch 
 a mixture of fin and folly in the lives even of the better 
 fort of people. It is for want of this intention that you 
 fee men that profefs religion, yet live in fv/earing and 
 fenfuality ; that you fee Clergymen given to pride and 
 covetoufnefs, and v/orldly enjoyments. It'is for wane 
 of this intention, that you fee women that profefs De- 
 votion, yet living in all the folly and vanity of drefs, 
 wailing their time in idlenefs and pleafure, and in all 
 fuch iuiiances of ilate and equipage as their citates will 
 reach. For let but a woman feel her heart full of this 
 intention, and fhe v/ill find it as impoiTible to patch or- 
 paint, as to curie or fwear •, fhe will no more defire to 
 inine at Balls and AfTemblies, or make a figure amongfh 
 
 B 'h thcfe 
 
36 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 thofe that are moft finely dreiTed, than fhe will defire to 
 dance upon a Rope to pleafe Spedators : She will know- 
 that the one is as far from the wifdom and excellency 
 of the Chriftian Spirit, as the other. 
 
 It was this general intention that made the primitive 
 Chriftians fuch eminent inilances of piety, that made 
 the goodly fellowfliip of the Saints, and all the glorious 
 army of martyrs and confeiTors. And if you will here 
 Hop and afk yourfelf why you are not as pious as the 
 primitive Chriftians were, your own heart will tell you 
 that it is neither through ignorance nor inability, but 
 purely becaufe you never thoroughly intended it. You 
 obierve the fame Sunday-worfhip that they did -, and you 
 are llricSl in it, becaufe it is your full intention to be 
 fo. And when you as fully intend to be like them in 
 their ordinary common life, when you intend to pleafe 
 God in all your a£lions, you will find it as poffible as to 
 be Itriclly exa6t in the fervice of the Church. And 
 when you have this intention to pleafe God in all your 
 a£lions, as the happieit and heft things in the world, you 
 will find in you as great an averfion to every thing that 
 is vain and impertinent in common life, whether of bu- 
 finefs or pleafure, as you now have to any thing that is 
 Prophane. You will be as fearful of living in any foo- 
 liih way, either of fpending your time or your fortune, 
 as you are now fearful of neglecting the public YV^or- 
 Ihip. 
 
 Nov/ wiio that wants this general fincere intention, 
 can be reckoned a Chriilian ? And yet if it \V2S amongil 
 Chridians, it would change the v/hole face of the 
 world *, true piety and exemplary holinefs would be as 
 common and vifible as buying and felling, or any trade 
 in life. 
 
 Let a Clergyman be but thus pious, and he will con- 
 verfe as if he had been brought up by an Apoftlc ; he 
 will no more think and talk of noble preferment, than of 
 noble eating or a glorious chariot. He will no more 
 complain of the frowns of the world, or a fmall cure, or 
 the v/ant of a patron, than he will complain of the want 
 of a laced coat, or a running horfe. Let him but intend 
 to pleafe God in all his a6tions, as the happicil and be ft 
 thing in the world, and then he will know that there is 
 
 nothing 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. S7 
 
 nothing noble In a Clergyman, but burning zeal for the 
 falvation of fouls ; nor any thing poor in his profeilionj 
 but idlenefs and a worldly Spirit. 
 
 Again, let a Tradefman have this intention, and It 
 wilt makeliim a faint in his fhop; his every day bufniefs 
 will be a courfe of wife and reafonable actions, made 
 holy to God, by being done in obedience to his will and 
 pleafure. He will buy and fell, and labour and travel, 
 becaufe by fo doing he can do fome good to himfelf and 
 others. But then, as nothing can pleafe God but what 
 is wife, and reafonable, and holy, fo he will neither 
 buy, nor fell, nor labour in any other manner, nor to any 
 other end, but fuch as may be {hewn to be wife and rea- 
 fonable and holy. He will therefore confuler not what 
 arts, or methods, or application, will foonelt make him 
 richer and greater than his brethren, or remove him from 
 a fhop to a life of Hate and pleafure ; but he will confi- 
 der what arts, what methods, what application can make 
 worldly bufmels moil acceptable to God, and make a 
 hfe of trade a life of holinefs, devotion, and piety. This 
 v/ill be the temper and fpirit of every tradefman ; he 
 cannot flop (hort of thefe degrees of piety, whenever it 
 is his intention to pleafe God in all his a6lions, as the 
 beft and happieft thing in the world. 
 
 And on the other hand, whoever is net of this fpirit 
 and temper in his trade and profefFion, and does not car- 
 ry it on only fo far as is bell fubfervient to a wife and 
 holy and heavenly life ; it is certain that he has not this 
 intention ; and yet without it, who can be Ihewn to be- 
 s follower of Jefus Chrill ? 
 
 Again, let the Gentlemen of birth and fortune but 
 have this intention, and you will fee how it will carry 
 him from every appearance of evil, to every inflance of 
 piety and goodnels. 
 
 He cannot live by chance, or as humour and fancy 
 carries him, becaufe he knows that nothing can pleafe 
 God but a wile and regular courfe of life. He cannot 
 live in idlenefs and indulgence, in fports and gaming, in. 
 pleafures and intemperance, in vain expences and high 
 living; becaufe thefe things cannot be turned Into means 
 of pieiy and holinefs, or made fo many parts of a wife 
 and religious life, 
 
 3 5 As 
 
38 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 As he thus removes from all appearance of evil, fo he 
 haflens and afpires after every initanceof gocdnefs. He 
 does not a(k what is allowable and pardonable, but what 
 is commendable and praife-worthy. He does not afk 
 whether God will forgive the folly of our lives, the 
 madnefs of our pieafures, the vanity of our expences, 
 the richnefs of our equipage, and the carelefs conlump- 
 tion of our time -, but he alks whether God is pleafed 
 with thefe things, or whether thefe are the appointed 
 ways of gaining his favour. He does not enquire whe- 
 ther it be pardonable to hoard up money to adorn our- 
 felves with diamonds, and gild our chariots, whilft the 
 widow and the orphan, the fick and the prifoner want to 
 be relieved •, but he aflcs whether God has required thefe 
 things at our hands, whether we fliall be called to ac- 
 count at the lafl day for the negleft of them, becaufe 
 it is not his intent to live in fuch ways as, for ought we 
 know, Gcd may perhaps pardon ; but to be diligent 
 in fuch ways, as we know that God will infallibly re- 
 v/ard. 
 
 He will not therefore look at the lives of Chriftians, 
 to learn hov/ he ought to I'pend his eltate -, but he will 
 look into the Scriptures, and make every dod^rine, para- 
 ble, precept, or inftruftion that relates to rich men, a 
 lawtohimfelf in the ufe of his eftate. 
 
 He will have nothing to do with codly apparel, be- 
 caufe the rich man in the Gofpel was cloathed with pur- 
 ple and fine linen. He denies himfelf the pieafures and 
 indulgences which his eftate could procure, becaufe our 
 Bielfeci Saviour faith, IFo unto you that are rich, fir ye 
 have received your confolafcn. He will have but one rule 
 for charity, and that will be, to fpend all that he can 
 that wv.y *, becaufe the judge of quick and dead hath 
 faid, that all is fo given, is given to him. 
 
 He will have no hofpitable table for the rich and weal- 
 thy to com^e and fealt with him ni good eating and 
 drinking ; becaufe our Blefied Lord faith, When thou 
 makejl a dinner, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, nei- 
 ther thy kinfmetj, nor thy rich neighbours, le/l they alfo bid 
 thee again, and a recompenje be made thee. But ivhen thou 
 wakeji afiajl, call the poor, the inaimed, the lame, the blindy 
 £ind thoufialt he hlejfed^ For they cannot recompenje theey 
 
 for 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. S'J 
 
 for thou jh alt he recornpenfed at the reJurreEilon of the juji^ 
 Luke x'iv. 12, 13, 14. 
 
 He will wafte no money in gilded roofs or coftly fur- 
 niture : He will not be carried from pleafure to pleafure 
 in expenfive (late and equipage, bccaufe an infpired A- 
 poftle hath faid, that all that is in the world, the lull of 
 the flefh, the lult of the eyes, and the pride of hfe, is not 
 of the Father, but is of the world. 
 
 Let not any one look upon this as an imaginary de 
 fcription of charity, that looks fine in the notion, but 
 cannot be put in pra<£tice. For it is fo far from being 
 an imaginary impraclicable form of life, that it has been 
 pra6lifed by great numbers of Chriftians in former ages, 
 who were glad to turn their v/hole eftates into a conitanc 
 courfe of charity. And it is fo far from, being impoffi- 
 ble now, that if we can find any Chriftians, that fiii- 
 cerely intend to pleafe God in all their adions as the beffc 
 and happieft thing in the world, whether they be young 
 or old, fmgle or married, men or women, if they have 
 but this intention, it will be impofiible for them to do 
 otherwife. This one principle will infallibly carry them 
 to this height of charity, and they will find themfelves 
 unable to ftop fhort of it. 
 
 For how is it poffible for a man that intends to ple'afe 
 God in the ufe of his money, and intends it becaufe he 
 judges it to be his greateft happinefs, how is it poflible 
 for fuch a one in fuch a ftate of mind, to bury his mo- 
 ney in needlefs impertinent finery, in covering himieli 
 or his horfes with gold, whilft there are any works of 
 piety and charity to be done with it, or any ways oi 
 fpending it w jU ? 
 
 This is as ftridly impofiible as for a m.an that intends 
 to pleafe God in his v/ords, to go into company on pur- 
 pofe to fv/ear and lie. For as all v/afte and unreafona- 
 ble expence is done defignedly and with deliberation, fo 
 no one can be guilty of it, whofe conitant intention is to 
 pleafe God in the ufe of his money. 
 
 I have chofe to explain this matter by appealing to 
 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 (trongeft manner, only 
 by looking into his own heart. For it is as eafy for 
 
 B 6 every 
 
40 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 every perfon to know, whether he intends to plea fe God 
 in all hi,^ adions; as for any fervant to know whether 
 this be his intention towards his mnfter. Every one alfo 
 can aseaiily tell how he lays out his money, and whe- 
 ther he confiders how to pleafe God in it, as he can tell 
 where his eftate is, and whether it be in money or land. 
 So that here is no plea left for ignorance or frailty, as to 
 this matter, every body is in the light, and every body 
 has pcrwer. And no one can fall, but he that is not fo 
 much a Chriilian as to intend to pleafe God in the ufe 
 of his eftate. 
 
 You fee two perfons, one is regular in pubHc and pri- 
 vate Prayer, the other is not. Now the reafon of this 
 difference is not this, that one has ftrength and power 
 to obferve Prayer, and the other has not ; but the rea- 
 foii is this, that one intends to pleafe God in the duties 
 of Devotion, and the other has no intention about it. 
 Now the cafe is the fame in the right or wrong ufe of 
 our time and money. You fee one perfon throwing 
 -away his time in fleep and idlenefs, in vifiting and di- 
 verfions, and his money in the molt vain and unrcafon- 
 •sble e.xpences. You fee another careful of every day, 
 dividing his hours by rules of Reafon and Religion, 
 and fpending all his money in works of charity ; now 
 the difference is not owing to this, that one has llrength 
 and power to do thus, and the other has not ; but it is 
 owing to this, that one intends to pleafe 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 ourfelves fmcerely, let u» 
 not vahily content ourfelves with the common diforders 
 of our lives, the vanity of our expences, the folly of our 
 diveriions, the pride of our habits, the idlenefs of our 
 lives, and the wafting of our time, fancying that thefe 
 are fuch imperfections as we fall into through the una- 
 voidable v.'eaknefs and frailty of our natures; but let us 
 be afilired, that thefe diforders of our common life are 
 ov/ing to this, that we have not fo much chriftianity as 
 to intend to pleafe God in all the actions of our life, as 
 the bell and happielt thing in the world. So that we 
 niuft not look upon ourfelves in a ftate of common and 
 pardonable imperfection, but in fuch a itate as wants the 
 
 firft 
 
DEVOUT AKD HOLY LIFE. 4l 
 
 iirft and mofl fundamental principle of Chriflianltyj viz' 
 an intention to pleafe God in all our actions. 
 
 And if any one was to alk himfelf, how it comes to 
 pais that there are any degrees of fobriety which he ne- 
 glects, any practice of humility which he wants, any 
 methods of charity which he does not follow, any rules 
 of redeeming time which he does not obferve, his own 
 heart will tell him, that it is becaufe he never intended 
 to be fo exa6l in thofe duties. For whenever we fully 
 intend it, it is as poilible to conform to all this regulari- 
 ty of life, as it is poflible for a man to obferve times 
 of prayer. 
 
 80 that the fault does not lie here, that we defire to 
 be good and perfecft, but through the weaknefs of our 
 nature fall fliort of it; but it is becaufe we have not 
 piety enough to intend to be as good as we can, or to 
 pleafe God in all the actions of our life. This we fee 
 is plainly the cafe of him that fpends his time in 
 fports, when he {hould 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 fafhions of the world, does 
 not do fo, becaufe (he wants power to be wife and re- 
 ligious in the managemement of her time and money; 
 but becaufe fhe has no intention or defire of being fo. 
 When fhe feels this intention, fne will find it as poffi- 
 ble to a6l up to it, as to be ilricSlly fober and challe, be- 
 caufe it is her care and defire to be fo. 
 
 This dodlrine does not fuppofe that we have no need 
 of divine grace, or that it is our own power to make 
 ourfelves perfect. It only fuppofes that through the 
 want of a fincere intention of pleafing God in all our 
 a(Ltions, we fall into fuch irregularities of life, as by 
 the ordinary means of grace v/c fhould have power to 
 svoui 
 
 And that we have not that perfection, which our pre- 
 fent itate of grace makes us capable of, becaufe we 
 do not fo much as intend to have it. 
 
 It only teaches us that the reafon why you fee no real 
 mortification or felf-denial, no eminent charity, no pro- 
 found humility, no heavenly affection; no true contempt 
 
 of 
 
42 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 of the world, no Chriflian meeknefs, no fmcere zeal, 
 no eminent piety in the common lives of Chriftians ; is 
 this, becaufe they do not fo much as intend to be exa6t 
 and exemplary in thefe virtues. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of the great Danger and Folly of not intending to he as 
 eminent and exemplary as nve can^ in the Praciice of all 
 Chriflian Virtues. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the goodnefs of God, and his rich 
 mercies in Chrift Jefus are a fufficient afTurance to 
 us, that he will be merciful to our unavoidable weak- 
 neffes and infirmities, that is, to fuch failings as are 
 the efFecls of ignorance or lurprize j yet we have no rea- 
 fon to expert the fame mercy towards thofe fms which 
 we have lived in, through a want of intention to avoid 
 them. 
 
 For inftance, the cafe of a common fwearer who dies 
 in that guilt, feems to have no title to the divine mer- 
 cy ; for this reafon, becaufe he can no m.ore plead any 
 weaknefs or infirmity in his excufe, 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 tliis be right reafoning, the cafe of a 
 common fwearer, that his lin is net to be reckoned a par- 
 donable frailty, becaufe he has no weaknefs to plead in 
 its excufe; why then do we not carry this way of rea- 
 foning to its true extent ? Why don't we as much 
 condemn every one other error of life that has no 
 more weaknefs to plead in its excufe than common 
 fwearing ? 
 
 For if this be fo bad a thing, becaufe it might be 
 avoided, if we did but fincerely intend it, muft not then 
 all other erroneous ways of life be very guilty, if we 
 live in them, not through weaknefs and inability but be- 
 caufe we never fincerely intended to avoid them ? 
 
 For inftance, you perhaps have made no progrefs in 
 the moft; important chriilian virtues, you have fcarce 
 
 gone 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 43 
 
 gone half way in humility and charity : now if your 
 failure in thefe duties is purely owing to your want of 
 intention of performing them in any true degree, have 
 you not then as little to plead for yourfelf, and are 
 you not as much without all excufe as the common 
 fwearer ? 
 
 Why, therefore, don't you prefs thefe things home 
 upon your confcience ? Why do you not think it as dan- 
 gerous for you to live in fuch defeats as are in your 
 power to amend, as it is dangerous for a common fwear- 
 er to live in the breach of that duty, which it is hi his 
 power to obferve ? Is not negligence and a want of a 
 iincere intention as blameable in one cafe as in another? 
 
 You, it may be, are as far from Chriftian Perfec- 
 tion, as the common fwearer is from keeping the third 
 Commandment ; are you not therefore as much con- 
 demned by the do£lrines of the Gofpel, as the fwearer 
 is by the third Commandment ? 
 
 You perhaps v/ill fay, that all people fall fliort of the 
 perfection of the gofpel, and therefore you are content 
 with your failings. But this is faying nothing to the 
 purpofe. For the quellion is not whether Gofpel Per- 
 fection, can be fully attained-, but whether you corneas 
 near it as a fmcere intention, and careful diligence can 
 carry you. Whetlier you are not in a much lower ftate 
 than you might be, if you fmcerely intended and care- 
 fully laboured to advance yourfelf in all Chrillian vir- 
 tues. 
 
 It you are as forward in the Chriftian life as your beft 
 endeavours can make you, then you may juftly hope 
 that your imperfections will not be laid to your charge; 
 but if your defects in piety, humility, and charity, are 
 owing to your negligence and want of fincere attention 
 to be as eminent as you can in thefe virtues, then you 
 leave yourfelf as much without excufe as he that lives 
 in the hn of fwearing, through the want of a fmcere in- 
 tention to depart from it. 
 
 The falvation of our fouls is fet forth in Scripture as 
 a tking of difficulty, that requires all our diligence, that 
 is to be worked out luith fear and trembling. 
 
 We are told, th^t JJrait is the gate and narrow is the 
 way that leadeth unto life^ and few there be that :^nd '/. 
 
44 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 That many a re called but few are chofen. And that ma- 
 ny will mifs of their falvation, who leem to have ta- 
 ken fome pains to obtain it. As in thefe words, Strive 
 to enter in at the J} rait gate, for many, I fay unto youy 
 ivill peek to enter in, and fh all not he able. 
 
 Here our blefled Lord command? us to drive to enter 
 in •, becaufe many will fail, who only feek to enter. 
 By which we are plainly taught, that religion is a ilate 
 of labour and fti'iving, and that many will fail of their 
 falvation ; not becaufe they took no care or pains about 
 it, but becaufe they did not take pains and care enough ; 
 they only fought, but did not ftrive to enter in. 
 
 Every ChrilUanj therefore, fhould as well examine his 
 life by thefe Do6trines, as by the commandments. For 
 thefe Doctrines are as plain marks of our condition, as 
 the commandments are plain marks of our duty. 
 
 For if falvation is only given to thofe who ftrive for 
 it, then it is as reafonable for me to confider whether 
 my courfe of life be a courfe of itriving to obtain it, as 
 to confider whetlier I am keeping any of the Command- 
 ments 
 
 If my Religion is only a formal compliance with thofe 
 modes of worihip that are in fafliion where I live j if it 
 cofts me no pains or trouble, if it lays me under no rules 
 and reflraints, if I have no careful thoughts and fober 
 reflections about it, is it not great weaknefs to think 
 that I -Mnf riving to enter in at theflra't gate. 
 
 If I am feeklng every thing that can delight my fenfes 
 and regale my appetites; fpending my time and for- 
 tune in pleafures, in diverfions, and worldly enjoyments, 
 a ftranger to watchings, faftings, prayers, and morti- 
 fications, how can it be faid that I am ivorking out my. 
 falvation with fear and trembling? 
 
 If there is nothing in my life and converfation that 
 fliew me to be different from the Jews and Heathens ; 
 if I ufe the world, and worldly enjoyments, as the ge- 
 nerality of people now do, and in all ages have done,, 
 why fliould I think that I am amongft thofe 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 ftrive, is it not as neceffary for me to 
 confider whether the way I am in be narrow enough j. 
 
 or 
 
deX^out and holy life. 45 
 
 or the labour I take be a fufficient ftriving, as to confider 
 whether I fufficiently obferve the lecond or third Com- 
 mandment ? 
 
 The fum of this matter is this : From the above-men- 
 tioned, and many other paflages of Scripture, it feems 
 plain, that our falvation depends upon the fmcerity and 
 perfection of our endeavours to obtain it. 
 
 Weak and imperfetl men fhall, notwithftanding their 
 frailties and defe6ls, be received, as having pleafed God, 
 if they have done their utmoft to pleafe him. 
 
 The rewards of charity, piety, and humility, will be 
 given to thofe whofe lives have been a careful labour 
 to exercife thefe virtues in as high a degree as they 
 could. 
 
 We cannot offer to God the fervice of angels ; we 
 cannot obey him as man in a (late of perfection could; 
 but fallen men can do their belt, and this is the perfec- 
 tion that is required of us*, it is only the perfection of 
 cur bed endeavours, a careful labour to be as perfect 
 as we can. 
 
 But if we flop fhovt of this, for ought we know, we 
 ftop Ihort of the mercy of God, and leave ourfelves 
 nothing to plead from the terms of the Gofpei. For 
 God has there made no prcmifes of mercy to the lloth- 
 ful and negligent. His mercy is only offered to our frail 
 and imperfecl, but bed endeavours to pradife all man- 
 ner of righteoufnefs. 
 
 As the law to angels is angelical righteoufnefs, as the 
 law to perfeCl beings is ftri(Sl perfeSion, fo the law to 
 our imperfeCl natures is the bed obedience that our frail- 
 nature is able to perform. 
 
 The mieafure of our love to God feems in juflice to 
 be the meafure of our love of every virtue. We are to 
 love and praclife it with all our heart, with all our foul, 
 with all our mind, and with all our flrength. And when 
 we ceafe to live with this regard to virtue, we live below 
 our nature, and inftead of being able to plead our infir- 
 mities, we ftand chargeable with negligence. 
 
 It is for this reafon that we are exhorted to work out 
 our falvation with fear and trembling-, becaufe unlefs 
 our heart and paffions are eagerly bent upon the work 
 of our falvation j uniefs holy fears animate our endea- 
 vours 
 
4S A SEKIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 vours, and keep our confciences ftri£t and tender about 
 . every part of our duty, conilantly examining how we 
 live, and how fit we are to die: we Ihall in ail probabi- 
 hty fall into a Rate of negligence, and fit down in fuch 
 a courfe of life as will never carry us to the rewards of 
 heaven. 
 
 A id he that confiders that ajuft God can only make 
 fuch allowances as are fuitable to his juftice, that our 
 works are all to be examined by fire, will find that fear 
 and trembling are proper tempers for thofe that are 
 drawing near fo great a trial. 
 
 And indeed there is no probability that any one 
 fliould do all the duty that is expelled from him, or 
 make that progrefs in piety which the holinefs and ju- 
 ftice of God requires of him; but he that is conilantly 
 afraid of falling fliort of it. 
 
 Now this is not intended to pofTefs people's minds 
 with a fcrupulous anxiety, and difcontent in the fervice 
 of God, but to fill them withajutt fear of living in 
 floth and idlenef?, and in the neglect of fuch virtues as 
 they will want at the day of judgment. 
 
 It is to excite them to an earneit examination of their 
 lives, to fuch zeal, and care, and concern after chrif- 
 tian perfe6lion, as they ufe in any matter that has gain- 
 ed their heart and affeflions. 
 
 It is oniy defiring them to be fo apprehenfive of their 
 ftate, fo humble in the opinion of thenifelves, fo ear- 
 ned after higher degrees of piety, and fo fearful of fal- 
 ling Ihort of happinefs, as the great apoi^le St Paul was, 
 when he thus wrote to thePhilippians. 
 
 " Not as though I had already attained, either were al- 
 ready perfect.— but this one thing I do, forgetting thofe 
 things which are behind, and reaching forth unto thofe 
 things which are before : I prefs toward the mark for the 
 prize of the high calling of God in Chrift Jefus." And 
 then he adds, " let us therefore, as many as are perfe6i, 
 be thus minded." 
 
 But now, if the apoflle thought it necefTary "for thofe, 
 who were in his (late of perfection, to be thus minded •, 
 that is, thus labouring, prefling and afpiring after fome 
 degrees of holinefs, to which they were not then arrived; 
 furely it is much more necefTary for us, who are born 
 
 in 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 47 
 
 in the dregs of time, and labouring under great im- 
 perfe6lions, to be thus minded ; that is, thus earneft and 
 Itriving after fuch degrees of a holy and divine life, as 
 Vv^e have not yet attained. 
 
 The bed way for any one to know how much he 
 ought to afpire after hoUnefs, is to confider not how 
 much will make his prefent life eafy ; but to afk him- 
 felf how much he thinks will make him eafy at the honr 
 of death. 
 
 Now any man that dares be ferious as to put this 
 queftiou to himfelf v/iil be forced to anfwer that at death 
 every one will wifli that he had been as perfeiSt as hu- 
 man nature can be. 
 
 Is not this therefore fufficient to put us not only upon 
 wifliing, but labouring after all that perfe6i:ion which 
 we Ihaii then lament the want of ? Is it not exceflive 
 folly to be content with fuch a courfe of piety when we 
 fhall fo want it, as to have nothing elfe to comfort us? 
 How can we carry a feverer condemnation againft our- 
 felves, than to beUeve that at the hour of death we fliall 
 want the virtues of the faints, and v/ifh that we had 
 been amongfl the firll fervants of God, and yet take no 
 methods of arriving at their height of piety, v/hilil we 
 are alive ? 
 
 Though this is an abfurdity that we can eafily pals 
 over at prefent, v/hilll the health of cur bodies, the paf- 
 fions of our minds, the noife, and hurry, and pleafures, 
 and bufinefs of the world, lead us on with eyes that 
 fee not, and ears that hear not ; yet at death, it will fet 
 itfelf before us in a dreadful magnitude, it will haunt 
 us like a difmal ghoft, and our confcience v/ili never let 
 us take our eyes from it. 
 
 We fee in worldly matters, what a torment felf- 
 condemnation is; and how hardly a man is able to for- 
 give himfelf, when he has brought himfelf into any 
 calamity or difgrace, purely by his own folly. The af- 
 fliction is made doubly tormenting ; becaufe he is for- 
 ced to charge it all upon himfelf, as his own a61: and 
 deed, againit the nature and reafon of things, and con- 
 trary to the advice of all his friends. 
 
 Now by this we may in fome degree guefs how ter- 
 rible the pain of that felf-condemnation will be, when 
 
 a maa 
 
48 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 a man fiiall find himfelf In the miferies of death, under 
 the feverity of a felf-condemning confcience; charging 
 all his diilrefs upon his own folly and madnefs, againll 
 the fenfe and reafon of his own mind, againll all the 
 doctrines and precepts of religion, and contrary to all 
 the inftrudions, calls and warnings both of God and 
 man. 
 
 Penitens was a bufy notable tradefman, and very 
 profperous in his dealings j but died in the thirty-fifth 
 year of his age. 
 
 A Httle before his death, when the doctors had given 
 him over, lome of his neiglibours came one evening to 
 fee him ; at which time, he fpake thus to them : 
 
 " I fee, fays he, my friends, the tender concern you 
 have for me, by the grief that appears in your coun- 
 tenances, and I know the thoughts that you now have 
 about me. You think how melancholy a cafe it is to 
 fee fo young a man, and in fuch fiourifhing bufmefs, 
 delivered up to death. And perhaps, had I vifited any 
 of you in my condition, I fhould have had the fame 
 thoughts of you. 
 
 But now, my friends, my thoughts are no more like 
 your thoughts, than my condition is like yours. 
 
 It is no trouble to me now to think that I am to die 
 young, or before I have raifed an eftate. 
 
 Thefe tilings are now funk into fuch mere notliwgsy 
 that I have no name little enough to call them by. For 
 if in a fev/ days, or hours, I am to leave this carcafe to 
 be buried in the earth, and to find myfelf either for 
 ever happy in the favour of God, or eternally feparated 
 from all light and peace, can any words fufficiently ex- 
 prefs the littlenefs of every thing elfe .'' 
 
 Is there any dream like the dream of life, which 
 amufes us with the neglect and difregard of thefe 
 things .f* Is there any folly like the folly of our manly 
 ft ate, which is too wife and bufy to be at leifure for 
 thefe Tefie6tions } 
 
 When we confider death as a mifery, we only think 
 of it as a mlferable feparation from the enjoyments of 
 this life. We feldom mourn over an old man that dies 
 rich ; but we lament the young, that are taken away in 
 the progrefs of their fortune. You yourfelves look upon 
 
 me 
 
BEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 49 
 
 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 filliefl children is fo great as this? 
 For what is there niiferable or dreadful in death, 
 but the confequences of it ? When a man is dead, 
 what does any thing fignify to him, but the ftate he is 
 then in ? 
 
 Our poor friend Lepidus died, you know, as he was 
 drefling himfelf for a feaft •, do you think it is now part 
 of his trouble that he did not live till that entertain- 
 ment was over ? Feafts, and bufmefs, and pleafures, and 
 enjoyments, feem great things to us, whillt we think of 
 nothing elfe; but as foon as we add death to them, they 
 all fink into an equal littlenefs; and the foul that is fe- 
 parated from the body, no more laments the lofs of bu- 
 fmefs than the lofmg of a feaft. 
 
 If I am 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 
 Itood a little longer beliind a counter ? 
 
 And if I am to go amongft loft fpirits, could there 
 he any reafon to be content, that this d'd not happen 
 to me till I was old and full of riches ? 
 
 If good angels were ready to recive 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 fpirits, to be 
 dragged by them to places of torments, could it be any 
 coml^rt to me, that they found me upon a bed of ftate? 
 When you are as near death as I am, you will know 
 that ail the different ftates of life, whether of youth or 
 age, riches or poverty, greatnefs or meannefs fignify no 
 more to you, than whether you die in a poor or ftately 
 apartment? 
 
 The greatnefs 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 fo near 
 4iie, all the enjoyments and profperities of life feem 
 
 as 
 
50 A si:rious call to a 
 
 as vain and infignlficant, and to have no more to dor 
 with my happinefs, than the deaths that I wore before 
 I could fpeak. 
 
 But, my friends, how am I furprized that I have not 
 always had thefe thoughts? for what is there in the ter- 
 rors of death, in the vanities 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 thnig is it, that a little health, or the 
 poor bufinefs of a fliop,,fhould keep us fo fenfelefs of 
 thefe great things that are coming fo fail upon us ! 
 
 Jull as you came into my chamber, I was thinking 
 with myfelf, what numbers of fouls there are now in 
 the world, in my condition at this very time, furprized 
 with a fummons to the other world : fome taken from 
 their fhops and farms, others from their fports and plea- 
 fures, thefe at fuits at law, thofe at gaming-tables, fome 
 on the road, others at their own fire-fides, and all feized 
 at an hour when they thought nothing of it : frighted at 
 the approach of death, confounded at the vajiity of all 
 their labours, defigns, and projects, aftoniihed at the 
 folly of their pafl lives, and not knowing which way to 
 turn their thoughts, to lind any comfort. Their con- 
 fciences flying in their faces, bringing all their fins to 
 their remembrance, tormenting them with deepeft con- 
 victions of their own folly, prefenting thern with the 
 fight of the angry judge, the worm that never dies, the 
 fire that is never quenched, the gates of hell, the powers 
 of darknefs, and the bitter pains of eternal death. 
 
 Oh my friends ! blefs God that you are not of this 
 number, that you have time and ftrength to employ 
 yourfelves 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 thefe apprehenfions. 
 
 Had I now a thoufand worlds, I would give them all 
 for one year more, that 1 might prefent unto God one 
 year of fuch devotion and good works, as I never before 
 ^o much as intended. 
 
 You perhaps, when you confider that I have lived free 
 from fcandal and debauchery, and in the communion of 
 
 the 
 
DEVOUT AKD HOLY LIFE. 51 
 
 the church, wonder to fee me fo full of remorfe and felf- 
 condemnation at the approach of death. 
 
 But alas ! what a poor thing is it, to have lived only 
 free from murder, theft and adultery, which is all that I 
 can fay of myfelf. 
 
 You know indeed, that I have never been reckoned a 
 fot, but you are at the fame time witnefles, and have 
 been frequent companions of my intemperance, fenfuali- 
 ty, and great indulgence. 
 
 And if I am now going to a judgment, where nothing 
 will be rewarded but good works, I may well be concer- 
 ned, that though I am no fot, yet I have no chriltian fo- 
 briety to plead for me. 
 
 It is true, I have lived in the communion of the 
 church, and generally frequented its worfhip and fer- 
 vice on Sundays, when I was neither too idle, or not o- 
 therwife difpofeti of by my bufmefs and pleafures. But 
 then, my conformity to the public worfhip has been ra- 
 ther a thing of courfe, than any real intention of doing 
 that, which the fervice of the church 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 won- 
 ders, is this, that I never had fo much as a general in- 
 tention of living up to the piety of the gofpel. This ne- 
 ver fo much as entered into my head or my heart. I 
 never once in my life conhdered whether I was living 
 as the laws of religion direcSl, or whether my way of 
 life was fuch as would procure me the mercy of God at 
 this hour. 
 
 And can it be thougiit that I have kept the gofpel 
 terms of falvation, without ever fo much as intending 
 in any ferious and deliberate manner either to know 
 them or keep them ? Can it be thought that I have plea- 
 fed God with fuch a life as he requires, though I have 
 lived without ever confidering what he requires, or how 
 much I have performed ? how eafy a thing would falva- 
 tion be, if it could fall into my carelefsr hands, who have 
 never had fo much ferious thoughts about it, as about 
 any one common bargain that I have made ? 
 
 In the bufmefs of life I have ufed prudence and re- 
 fledion, I have done every thing by rules and methods. 
 
 I have 
 
52 A SERIOUS CALL TO A . 
 
 I have been glad to converfe with men of experience 
 and judgment, to find out the reafons why fome fail 
 and others fucceed in any bufmefs. I have taken no 
 flep in trade but with great care and caution, confider- 
 ing every advantage or danger that attended it. I have 
 always had my eye upon the main end of bufinefs, and 
 have iludied 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 reafon that I, 
 who have fo often talked of the neceflity of rules and 
 methods, and 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 aflonilh and confound a 
 dying man like this ? What pain do you think a man 
 muft feel, when his confcience lays all this folly to his 
 charge, when it fhall fliew him how regular, exa6l, and 
 wife he has been in fmall matters, that are paffed away 
 like a dream, and how itupid and fenfelefs he has lived, 
 without any refle<Slion, without any rules, in things of 
 fuch eternal moment, as no heart can fufficiently con- 
 ceive them ! 
 
 Had I only my frailties and imperfeftions to lament 
 at this time, I fhould lie here humbly trufting in the 
 mercies of God. But alas ! how can I call a general 
 difregard, and a thorough negle£t of all religious im- 
 provement, a frailty and imperfe6tion ; when it was as 
 much in my power to have been exa£f, and careful, and 
 diligent in a courfe of piety, as in the bufmefs of my 
 trade. 
 
 I could have called in as many helps, have pra6fifed 
 as many rules, and been taught as many certain methods 
 of holy living, as of thriving in my fhop, had I but fo in- 
 tended and defired it. 
 
 Oh ! my friends ! a carelefs life, unconcerned and 
 unattentive to the duties of religion, is fo without all ex- 
 cufe fo unworthy of the mercy of God, fuch a fhame to 
 the fenfe and reafon of our minds, that I can hardly con- 
 ceive a greater punifhment, than for a man to be thrown 
 into the Hate that I am. in, to refle£t upon it." 
 
 Ptniiens was here going on, but had his mouth ftop 
 
 ped 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 5B 
 
 ped by a convulfion, which never fuffered hun to fpeak 
 any more. He lay convulfed about tv/elve hours, and 
 then gave up the ghoft. 
 
 Now if every reader would imagine this Penitens t(:y 
 have been fome particular acquaintance or relation of 
 his, and fancy that he faw and heard all that is here de- 
 fcribedjthat he ftood by his bed-fide when his poor friend 
 lay in fuch diflrefs and agony, lamenting the foliy of 
 his pafl life.; it would in all probability teach him fuch 
 wifdom as never entered into his heart before. If to this, 
 he ihould confider, how often he himfelf might have 
 been furprized in the fame ftate of negligence, and made 
 an example to the reft of the world, this double reflec- 
 tion, both upon the diflrefs of his friend, and the good- 
 nefs of that God, who had preferved him from it, would 
 in all Hkelihood foften his heart into holy tempers, and 
 make him turn the remainder of his life into a regular 
 courfe of piety. 
 
 This therefore being fo ufeful a meditation, I fliail 
 here leave the reader, as, I hope, ferioufly engaged in 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 ^Ve can pleafe God in nojlate or employment of Life ^ hut h'j 
 intending and devoting it all to his Honour ana Glory » 
 
 HAVING in the iirft Chapter dated the general na- 
 ture of devotion, and fhewn, that it implies not 
 any form of prayer, but a certain form of life that is of- 
 fered to God not at any particular times or places, but 
 every where and in every thing ; I fhall now defcend to 
 fome particulars, and fliew how we are to devote our 
 labour and employment, our time and fortunes unto 
 God. 
 
 As a good Chriflian fhould confider every place as 
 holy, becaufe God is there : fo he fhould look upon e- 
 very part of his life as a matter of holinefs, becaufe it is 
 to be offered unto God. 
 
 The profefTiou of a clergyman is an holy profeffion, 
 C becaufe 
 
64 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 becaufe It is a miniftratlon in holy things, an attendance 
 at the altar. But worldly bufinefs is to be made hoiy 
 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 be- 
 long unto God, as any places, things, or perfons that are 
 devoted to divine fervice ; fo all things are to be ufed, 
 and all perfons are to a61: in their feveral ftates and em- 
 ployments for the glory of God. 
 
 Men of worldly bufinefs therefore mull not look upon 
 themfelves as at liberty to live to themfelves, to facri- 
 fice to their own humours and tempers, becaufe their 
 employment is of a worldly nature. But they muft con- 
 fider, that as the world and all worldly profeflions, as 
 truly belong to God, as perfons and things that are de- 
 voted to the altar ; fo it is as much the duty of men in 
 worldly bufinefs to live wholly unto God, as it is the 
 duty of thofe who are devoted to divine fervice. 
 
 As the whole world is God's, fo the whole world 
 is to a6t for God. As all men have the fame relation to 
 God, as all men have all their powers and faculties from 
 God ; fo all men are obliged to a6l for God with 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 earth, and live to themfelves, is the fame re- 
 bellion againft God, as for angels to abufe things in hea- 
 ven •, becaufe 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 ufe, but yet they 
 are all to be ufed according to the will of God. 
 
 Men may, and muft differ in their employment, but 
 yet they muft all a6l for the fame ends, as dutiful fer- 
 vants of God, in the right and pious performance of their 
 feveral cahings. 
 
 Clergymen m^uft live wholly unto God in one parti- 
 cular way, that is, in the exercife of holy offices, in the 
 miniftration of prayers and facraments, and a zealous 
 diflribution of fpiritual goods. 
 
 But men of other employments are in their particular 
 ways as much obliged to ad as the fervants of God, and 
 liv wholly unto ium in their feveral callings. 
 
 This 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. Bo 
 
 This is the only difference between clergymen, and 
 people of other callings. 
 
 When it can be fhewn that men might be vain, covet- 
 ous, fenfual, worldly-minded, or proud in the exercife 
 of their worldly bufniefs, then it will be allowable for 
 clergymen to indulge the fame tempers in their facred 
 profeffion. For though thefe tempers are moft odious 
 and mod criminal in clergymen, who, befides their bap- 
 tifmal vow, have a fecond time devoted themfelves to 
 God, to be his fervants, not in the common offices of 
 human life, but in the fpiritual fervice of the moft holy 
 facred things : and who are therefore to keep themfelves 
 as feparate and different from the common life of ocher 
 men, as a church or an altar is to be kept feparate from 
 houfes and tables of common ufe : Yet as all Chriflians 
 are by their baptifm devoted to God, and made profef- 
 fors of holinefs, fo are they all in their feveral callings 
 to live as holy and heavenly perfons ; doing every thing 
 in their common life only in fuch a manner, as it may be 
 received by God, as a fervice done to him. For things 
 fpiritual and temporal, facred and common, muft, like 
 men and angels, like heaven and earth, all confpire in the 
 glory of God. 
 
 As there is but one God and Father of us all, whofe 
 glory gives light and life to every thing that lives ; whofe 
 prefence fills all places, whofe power fupports all beings, 
 whofe providence ruleth all events*, fo every thing that 
 lives, whether in heaven or earth, whether they be 
 thrones or principalities, men or angels, they muft all 
 with one fpirit, live Vv^holly to the praife and glory of 
 this one God and Father of them all. Angels as angels in 
 their heavenly miniftrations, but men as men, women as 
 women, bifliops as bifliops, prieits as prieits, and deacons 
 as deacons j fome with things fpiritual, and fome with 
 things temporal^ offering to God the daily facrificeofa 
 reafonable life, wife adlions, purity of heart, and hea- 
 venly affe6lions. 
 
 This is the common bufmefs of all perfons in this 
 world. It is not left to any woman in the world to trifle 
 away their time in the follies and impertinences of a 
 fafhionable life, nor to any men to refign themfelves up 
 to worldly cares and concerns ; it is not left to the rich 
 
 C 2 to 
 
56 A SEUIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 to gratify their paflions in the indulgencies and pride of 
 life j nor to the poor to vex and torment their hearts 
 with the poverty of their ftate ; but men and women, 
 rich and poor, muft with bifliops and priefts, walk be- 
 fore God in the fame wife and holy fpirit, in the fame 
 denial of all vain tempers, and in the fame difcipline 
 and care of their fouls ; not only becaufe they have all 
 the fame rational nature, and are fervants of the fame 
 God, but becaufe they all want the fame holinefs to make 
 them fit for the fame happinefs, to which they are called. 
 It is therefore abfolutely neceflary for all Chriftians, 
 whether men or women, to confider themfelves as per- 
 sons that are devoted to holinefs ; and fo order their 
 common ways of life by fuch rules of reafon and piety, 
 as may turn it into continual fervice unto almighty 
 God. 
 
 Now to make our labour -or employment an accepta- 
 ble fervice unto God, we miuit carry it on with the fame 
 fpirit, and temper, that is required in giving of alms, or 
 
 any work of piety. For, if ivhetker we 
 1 Cor. X. 31. eat or drink, or ivhatfoever lue do, ive muji 
 
 do all to the glory of God ; If we are to 
 life this world as if we iifed it not ; if we are to prefetH 
 
 cur bodies a living facrifice, holy, acceptable 
 Rom. xii. 7. to God j if we are to live by faith, and not 
 
 by ftghty and to have our converfation in 
 heaven ; then it is neceflary, that the Common way of 
 our life in every fiate, be made to glorify God by fuch 
 tempers as make our prayers and adorations acceptable 
 to him. For, if we ^re worldly or earthly-minded in 
 our employments, if they are carried on with vain de- 
 fires, and covetous tempers, only to fatisfy ourfelves, 
 we can no more be faid to live to the glory of God, than 
 gluttons and drunkards can be faid to eat and drink to 
 the glory of God. 
 
 As the glory of God is one and the fame thing, fo 
 whatever we do fuitable to it, muft be done v/ith one 
 and the fame fpirit. That fame (late and tem.per of 
 mind which makes our alms and devotions acceptable, 
 muft alfo make our labour, or employment, a proper of- 
 fering unto God. If a man labours to be rich, and pur- 
 fues his bufniefs, that he may raife himfelf to a flate of 
 
 figure 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 57 
 
 figure and glory in the world, he is no longer fervinj 
 God in his employment ; he is adling under other maf- 
 ters, and has no more title to a reward from God, than 
 he that gives alms, that he may be (ecny or prays that he 
 may be heard of men. For vain and earthly defires are 
 no more allowable in our em.ployments, than in 
 our alms and devotions. For thefe tempers of worldly 
 pride and vain glory, are not only evil, when they mix 
 with our good works, but they have the fame evil na- 
 ture, and make us odious to God, when they enter into 
 the common bufinefs of our employment. If it were al- 
 lowable to indulge covetous or vain paiTions in our 
 worldly employments, it would then be allowable to be 
 vain-glorious in our devotions' But as our alms and de- 
 votions are not an acceptable fervice, but when they 
 proceed from a heart truly devoted to God, fo our com- 
 mon employment cannot be reckoned a fervice to him, 
 but when it is performed with the fame temper and piety 
 cf heart. 
 
 Moft of the employments of life are in their own na- 
 ture lawful J and all thofe that are fo, may be made a 
 fubitantial part of our duty to God, if we engage in 
 them only fo far, and for fuch ends, as are fuitable to 
 beings, that are to live above the v/orld, all the time 
 that they live in the v/orld. This is the only meafure 
 of cur application to any worldly bufmefs, let it be what 
 it wlllf. wnere it v/iil, it muft have no more of our hands,, 
 our hearts, or our time, than is confifbent \. ith an hearty, 
 daily, careful preparation of ourfeives for another life. 
 For as all chriitiaas, as fuch, liave renounced this world, 
 to prepare tlsemfelves by daily devotion and univerfal 
 hohnefs, for an eternal ftate cf quite another nature, 
 they mud look upon worldly empicyments, as upon 
 M'crldly wants and bodily infirmities ; things not to be 
 defired, but only to be endured and fufFered, till death 
 and the refurreclion has carried us to an eternal ftate cf 
 real happinefs. 
 
 Now he that does not look at the things of this life 
 in this degree of littienefs, cannot be faid eiiher to feel or 
 believe the greateit truths of chri'dianity. For if he 
 thinks any thing great or important in human bufmefs, 
 can he be f^iid, to feel or believe thofe fcriptures which 
 C 3 re» 
 
58 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 reprefcnt this life, and the greateft things of life, as bub- 
 bles, vapours, dreams, and fhadows ? 
 
 If he thinks figure, and ihew, and worldly glory, to 
 be any proper happinefs of a chriltian, how can he be 
 faid to feel or believe this do61:rine. Blejfed are ye ivkett 
 r.ieii JJjall hate youy and ivhen they JJjall feparate you from 
 their company^ and J}:>all reproach yoUy and caj} out your 
 name as evil for the Jon of man^s fake? For furely. If 
 there was any real happinefs in figure, and fhew, and 
 worldly glory ; if thcfe things deferved our thoughts 
 and care, it could not be matter of the highefl joy, when 
 we are torn from them by perfecutions and fufferings ? 
 if, therefore, a man will fo live, as to (liew, that he feels 
 and believes the mod fundamental doctrines of chriiti- 
 anity, he mull live above tlie world ; this is the temper 
 that niufi: enable him to do the bufinefs of life, and yet 
 live wholly unto God, and to go through fome worldly 
 employment with a heavenly mind. And it is as ne- 
 cefiUry, that people live in their employments with this 
 temper, as it is neceliary, that their employment itfelf 
 be lawful. 
 
 The hufbandman that tilleth the ground is employed 
 in an honefl bufinefs, that is neceflary in life, and very 
 capable of being made an acceptable fervice unto God. 
 But if he labours and toils, not to ferve any reafonable 
 ends of life, but in order to have his plow made of filver, 
 and to liave his horfes harnefied in gold, the honeityof 
 his employment is loft as to him, and his labour becomes 
 his folly. 
 
 A tradefman may juftly think that it is agreeable to 
 the will of God, for him to fell fuch things as are inno- 
 cent and ufeful in life ; fuch as help both himfelf and 
 others to a reafonable fupport, and enable them to aflTift 
 thole that want to be alFifted. But if inftead of this, 
 he trades only with regard to himfelf, without any other 
 rule than that of his own temper, if it be his chief end 
 in it to grow rich, that he may live in figure and indul- 
 gencies, and be able to retire from bufinefs to Idlenefs 
 and luxury, his trade, as to him, lofes all its innocency, 
 and is fo far from being an acceptable fervice to God, 
 that it is only a more plaufible courfe of covetoufnefs, 
 felf-lovcj and ambition. For fuch a one turns the ne- 
 
 ceifities 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 59 
 
 TieceiTities of employments into pride and covetoufnefs, 
 juit as the fot and epicure turn the neceflities of eating 
 and drinking into gluttony and drunkennefs. 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 difference between trading 
 and gaming, yet moit of that difference is lolt, when 
 men once trade with the fame delires and tempers, and 
 for the fame ends that others game. Charity and fine 
 drefUng are things very ditferent j but if men give alms 
 for the fame reaibns that others drefs fine, only to be 
 feen and admired, cliarity is then but like the vanity 
 of fine clothes. In like 'manner, if the fame motives 
 make fome people painful and induitrious in their trades, 
 which makes others conilant at gaming, fuch pains is 
 but like the pains of gaming. 
 
 Calidus has traded above thirty years in the greateft 
 city of the kingdom j he has been fo many years con- 
 Itantly increafing his trade and Ins fortune. Every hour 
 of the day is with him an hour of buhnefs ^ and taough 
 he eats and drinks very heartily, yet every meal feems 
 to be in a hurry, and he would fay grace it he had time. 
 Calidus ends every day at the tavern, but has not leiiure 
 to be there tiil near nine o'clock. He is always forced 
 to drink a good hearty glafs, to drive thoughts of bufi- 
 nefs out of his head, and make his fpirits drowfy enough 
 for fleep. He does bufinefs all the time that he is rifing, 
 and has fettled feveral matters before he can get to his 
 compting-room. His prayers are a Ihort ejaculation or 
 two, which he never mifles in itormy tempeiluous wea- 
 ther, becaufe he has always fomething or other at Sea. 
 Calidus will tell you with great pleafure, that he has 
 been in this hurry for fo many years, and that it mult 
 have killed 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 refreiiiment in the 
 country. 
 
 He is now fo rich, that he would leave off his bufmefs, 
 
 and amufe his old age witii building and furnilhing a 
 
 fiiiehoufe in the country, but that he is afraid he ihould 
 
 C -i grow 
 
60 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 grow melancholy if he was to quit his bufinefs . He 
 wiil teil you-with great gravity, that it is a dangerous 
 thing for a man, that has been ufed to get money, ever 
 to leave it off. If thoughts of religion happen at any time 
 to iteal into his head, Calidus contents himfeif with 
 thinking that he never was a friend to hereticks and in- 
 fidels, that he has always been civil to the minifter of 
 his parifh, and very often given fomething to the cha- 
 rity-fchools. 
 
 Now this way of life is at fuch a diftance from all the 
 doCtrlne and difcipline of chriftianity, that no one can 
 live in it through ignorance or frailty. Calidus can no 
 more imagine, that he is born again of 
 St. John iii. the fp'irit ; that he is in Chriji a new crea^ 
 1 Pet. ii. 11. iure ; that he Ir/es here as ajiranger and 
 CoIoiT. iii. i. pilgrim^ fetting his orffeclions upon things a» 
 bove^ and laying up treajures in heaven,. 
 He can no mere im.aghie this, than he can think that he 
 has been all his life an apoille, working miracles and 
 preaching the gofpel. 
 
 Itmuitalfo becwnedthat thegeneralityof trading peo- 
 ple, efpecially in great towns, are too much like Calidus, 
 You fee them all the week buried in bufmefs^ unable to 
 think of any thing elfe ; and then fpending the Sunday 
 in idlenefs and refrefiiment, in wandering into the coun- 
 try, in fuch vifits and jovial meetings as make it often 
 the worll day of the week. 
 
 Now they do not live thus, becaufe they cannot fup- 
 pcrt themfeives with iefs care and application to bufmefs; 
 but they live thus becaufe they want to grow rich in their 
 trades, and to maintain their families in fome fuch fi- 
 gure and degree of finery, as a reafonable Chriilian life 
 has no occafion for. Take away but this temper, and 
 then people of all trades, will find themfeives at leifure 
 to live every day like Chrhlians, to be careful of every 
 duty of the gofpel, to live in a vifible courfe of religion, 
 and be every day itrict obfervers both of private and 
 public prayer. 
 
 Now the only way to do this, is for people to confider 
 their trade, as fomething that they are obliged 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. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 61 
 
 film. Nothing can be right in bufmefs, that is not un- 
 der thefe rules. The apoltle cominaads 
 fervants, to be obediejit to their mafters in Ephef. vi. 5. 
 ftnglenefs of heart as unto Chriji^ Not iviih Col. iii. 22, 
 eye-fervice as men-pleafcrs, but as the fer- "I'd, 
 'uants of Chrifi doing the -will of God from 
 the heart. With good ivill doing frvice as unto the Lyrd^ 
 and not unto men, 
 
 Thispailcige fulTiciently fh^ws, that all Chriftians are 
 to live wholly- unto God in every ltat2 and condition, 
 doing the work of their common calling in fuch a man- 
 ner, and for fuch ends, as to make it a part of their de- 
 votion or fervice to God. For certainly if poor ilaves 
 are not to comply with their bufmefs as men-pleafers, if 
 they are to look wholly unto God in all their aftions,. 
 and ferve in fmglenefs of heart, as unto the Lord, furely 
 men of other employments and conditions mull be as 
 much obliged to go through their bufmefs with the fame 
 fmglenefs of heart •, not as pleafmg the vanity of their 
 own minds, not as gratifying their own felfiili, v/orldly 
 paflions^ but as the fervants of God in all that they have 
 to do. For furely no one will fay that a Have is to de- 
 vote his ftate of Ufe unto God, and make the will of Godj 
 the fole rule and end of his fervice, but that a tradefman 
 need not a6i: with the fame fpirit of devotion in his bufi- 
 jiefs. For this is as abfurd, as to make it neceffary. for 
 «)ne man to be more juil or faithful than another. 
 
 It Is therefore abfoluteiy certain, that no Chriftian is 
 to enter any further into bufmefs, nor for any other endsj 
 than fuch as he can in fmglenefs of heart offer unto God,, 
 as a reafonable fervice. For tiie fon of God has redeem- 
 ed us for this only end, that we ihouid by a life of rea- 
 fon and piety live to the glory of God ; this is the only 
 rule and meafure for every order and Hate of life. Wich- 
 out this ru]e, the moi't lawful employment becomes a 
 fi nful ftate of 11 fe. 
 
 Take away this from the life of a clergyman, and 
 his holy profelTion ferves only to expofehim to a greater 
 damnation. Take away this from tradefmen, and mops 
 are but fo many houfes of greedinefs and fiichy lucre 
 Take away this from gentlemen, and the courfe of their. 
 life bt^omes a courfe of fenfuality, priUc and want on- 
 C 5 nefs 
 
^2 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 nefs. Take away this rule from our tables, and all falls 
 into gluttony and drunkennefs. Take away this meafure 
 from our drefs and habiis, and all is turned into fuch 
 paint, and glitter, and ridiculous ornaments, as are a real 
 Ihame to the wearer. Take away this from the ufe of 
 our fortunes, and you will find people fparing in nothing 
 but charity. Take away this from our diverfions, and 
 you will find no fports too iilly, nor any entertainments 
 too vain and corrupt to be the pleafure of chriflians. 
 
 If therefore v/e defire to live unto God, it is neceflary 
 to bring our whole life under this law, to make his glory 
 the fole rule and meafure of our acSling in every employ- 
 ment of life. For there is no other true devotion, but 
 this of hving devoted to God in the common bufniefs of 
 our lives. 
 
 So that men mud not content themfelves with the law. 
 fulnefs of their employments, but mull confider whether 
 they ufe them as they are to ufe every 
 Colo{r. iii. 1. thing, as ftrangers and pilgrims, that are 
 1 Ptt. i. 15, baptized into the refurrecfion of Jefua 
 lb". Chrift, that are to follow him in a wife 
 
 Eph. V. 26, and heavenly courfe of life, in the morti- 
 27. fication of all v.'orldly de fires, and in pu- 
 
 riying and preparing their fouls for the 
 blefTed enjoyment of God, 
 
 For to be vain, or proud, or covetous, or ambitious la 
 the common courfe of our bufmefs, is as contrary to 
 thefe holy tempers of Chriltianity, as cheating and dif- 
 honeily. 
 
 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 forhimfelf as the greedy, covet- 
 ous, ambitious tradefman, that fhould fay, he only deals 
 in lawful bufinefs. For as a Chriftian is not only re- 
 quired to be honeft, but to be of a Chriftian fpirit, and 
 make his life an exercife of humility, repentance and 
 heavenly affedtlon, fo all tempers that are contrary to 
 thefe, are as contrary to Chriflianity, as cheating is con- 
 trary to honelty. 
 
 So that the matter plainly comes to this ; all irregular 
 tempers in trade and bufmefs, are but like irregular 
 tempers in eating and drinking. 
 
 Proud 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 6S 
 
 Proud views and vain defires in our worldly employ- 
 ments, are as truly vices and corruptions, as hypocrify in 
 prayer, or vanity in alms. And there can be no reaion 
 given why vanity in our alms fliould 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 calling, 
 that he makes a figure in the world, and draw the eyes of 
 people upon the fplendour of his condition, is as far from 
 the pious humility of a chriftian, as he that gives alms 
 that he may be leen of men. For the reafon why pride, 
 and vanity in our prayers and alms renders them an un- 
 acceptable fervice to God, is not becaufe there is any 
 thing particular in prayers and alms, that cannot allow of 
 pride, but becaufe pride is in no refpe£l:, nor in any thing 
 made for manj it deftroys the piety of our prayers and 
 alms, becaufe it deftroys the piety of every thing that it 
 touches, and renders every action that it governs, inca- 
 pable of being offered unto God. 
 
 So that if we could fo divide ourfelves, as to be hum- 
 ble in fome refped:s, and proud in others, fuch humility 
 would be of no fervice to us, becaufe God requires us 
 as truly to be humble in ail our adlions and defigns, as 
 to be true and honeft in all our actions and defigns. 
 
 And as a man is not honeft and true, becaufe he is not 
 to a great many people, or upon feveral occafions, but 
 becaufe truth and honefty is the meafure of all his deal- 
 ings with every body; fo the cafe is the fame in humility, 
 or any other temper, it muft be the general ruling habit 
 of our minds and extend itfelf to all our actions and de- 
 figns, before it can be imputed to us. 
 
 We indeed fometimes talk, as if a man might be hurn- 
 ble in fome things and proud in others, humble in his 
 drefs, but proud of his learning, humble in his perfon, 
 but proud in his views and defigns. But though this may 
 pafs in common difccurfe, where few things are faid ac- 
 cording to ftritt truth, it cannot be allowed when we ex- 
 amine into the nature of our actions. 
 
 It is very pofhble for a man that lives by cheating, to 
 
 be very punctual in paying for what he buys; but then 
 
 every one is alTured, that he does not do fo, out of any 
 
 principal cf true honefty. 
 
 In like manner it is very pofTible for a man that is 
 
 C 6 proud 
 
645 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 proud of his eftate, ambitious in his viev/s, or vain of his 
 learning, to difregard his drefs, and perfon, in fuch a 
 manner as a truly humble man would do ; but to fup- 
 pofv^ 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 principle of religious ho-> 
 nefly. 
 
 As therefore all kinds of difhonefty deflroy cuv pre- 
 tences to an honeft principle of mind, fo all kinds of 
 pride deilroy our pretences to an humble fpirit. 
 
 No one wonders, that thofe prayers and alms, which 
 proceed from pride and oflentation are odious to God y 
 but yet it is as eafy to (hew, that pride is as pardon- 
 able there, as any where elfe. 
 
 If we we could fuppofe that God reje6ls pride in our 
 prayers and alms, but bears with pride in our drefs, our 
 perfons, or eftates, it would be the fame thing as to fup- 
 pofe tliat God condemns falsehood in fome a^lions^ but 
 allov/s it in others. For pride in one thing differs from 
 pride in another thing, as the robbing of one man. dif- 
 fers from the robbing of another. 
 
 Again, if pride and ofientation, is fo odious that it 
 deilroys the merit and worth of the mod reafonable ac- 
 tions, lurely it muft be equally odious in thofe a£^ions, 
 which are only founded in the weaknefs and infirmity of 
 cur nature. As thus, alms are commanded by God, as 
 excellent in themfeives, as true inftances of divine tem- 
 per, but clothes are only allowed to cover our fhame ; 
 fureiy therefore it m.ufl at leail be as odious a degree 
 of pride, to be vain in our clothes, as to be vain in our 
 alms. 
 
 Again, v.^e are commanded to pray without ceafing, as 
 a micans of rendering our fouls more exalted and divine, 
 but V. e are forbidden to lay up treafures upon earth; and 
 can we think that it is not as bad to be vain of thofe 
 tveafures v/hich v/e are forbidden to lay up, as to be 
 vain of thofe prayers which v/e are commanded to 
 make. 
 
 Women are required to have their heads covered, and 
 to adorn themfeives with fhamefacednefs ; if therefore 
 
 iCor. xi 13 *^^^^ ^^^ ^^^" ^" thofe things which are 
 exprefsly forbidden; if they patch and 
 
 paint 
 
DEVOUT AND HCLT LIFE* t)5 
 
 paint that part^ which can only be a- 
 
 dorned by ihamefacednefs, furely they 1 Tim. ii. 9. 
 
 have as much to repent of for fuch a 
 
 pride, as they have, wliofe pride 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 ihamcj 
 
 than to glory in our virtue. 
 
 Ail thefe inltances are only to fnew us the great ne- 
 ceffity of fuch a regular and uniform piety, as extends 
 itfelf to all the actions of our common life. 
 
 That we mull eat and drink, and drefs and difcourfe, 
 according to the fobriety of the Chrifiian fpirit, engage 
 in no employments but fuch as we can truly devote un- 
 to God, nor purfue tliem any farther than fo far as con- 
 duces to the reafonable ends of a holy devout life. 
 
 That we mud be honeit, not only on particular oc- 
 cafions, and in fuch initances as are applauded in the 
 world, eafy to be performed and free from danger or 
 lofs, but from fuch a living principle of juilice, as makes 
 us love truth and integrity in all its initances, follow it 
 through all dangers, and againft all cppofition ; as 
 knowmg that the more we pay for any truth, the better 
 is our bargain, and that then our integrity becomes a 
 pearl, when we have parted with all to keep it. 
 
 That we mult be humble, not only in fuch inftances 
 as are expefted in the world, or fuitable to our tempers^^ 
 or confined to particular occaiions, but in fuch an humi- 
 lity. pf fpirit, as renders us meek and lowly in the whole 
 eourfe of our lives, as fliews itfelf in our drefs, our per- 
 fon, our converfation, our enjoyment of the world, the 
 tranquility of our minds, patience under injuries, fub- 
 miflion to fuperiors, and condefcenfions to thofe that are 
 below us, and in all the outward atlions of our lives. 
 
 That we muil devote, not only times and places to 
 prayer, but be every where in the fpirit of devotion, 
 with hearts always fet towards heaven, looking up to 
 God in all our actions, and doing every thing as his 
 fervants, living in the world as in a holy temple of God, 
 and always worlhipping him, though not with our lips, 
 yet with the thankfulnefs of our hearts, the holinefs of 
 our adions, and the pious and charitable ufe of all his 
 gifts. That we mult not only fend up petitions and 
 
 thoughts 
 
66 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 thoughts nov/ and then to heaven, but muil go through 
 all our worldly bufniefs with an heavenly fplrit, as mem- 
 bers of Chrifl's myitical body, that with new hearts, 
 and new minds, are to turn an earthly life into a pre- 
 paration for a life of greatnefs and glory in the king- 
 dom of heaven. 
 
 Now the only way to arrive at this piety of fpirit, 
 is to bring all your aftions to the fame rule as your de- 
 votions and alms. You very well know what it is that 
 makes the piety of your alms or devotions; now the 
 fame rules, the fame regard to God, muft render every- 
 thing elfe that you do, a fit and acceptable fervice un- 
 to God. 
 
 Enough, I hope, has been faid to fliew you the ne- 
 cefiity of thus introducing Religion into all the a6lions 
 of your common life, and of living and a6ling with the 
 fame regard to God in all that you do, aa in your pray- 
 ers and alms. 
 
 Eating is one of the loweft actions of our lives, it is 
 com.mon to us with mere animals, yet we fee that the 
 piety of all ages of the world, has turned this ordinary- 
 action of an animal life, into a piety to God, by making 
 every meal to begin and end with devotion. 
 
 We fee yet fome remains of this cuftom in moft chri- 
 flian families ; fome fuch little formality as fhews you> 
 that people ufed to call upon God at the beginning and 
 end of their meals. But, indeed, it is now generally 
 fo performed, as to look more like a mockery on devo- 
 tion, than any folemn application of the mind unto God, 
 In one houfe you may perhaps fee the head of the fa« 
 mily juft pulling off his hat, in another half getting up 
 from his feat-, another fliall, it may be, proceed fo far, 
 as to make as if he faid fomxCthing ; but however, thefe 
 little attempts are the remains of feme devotion that was 
 formerly ufed at fuch times, and are proofs that religion 
 has belonged to this part of common life. 
 
 But to fuch a pafs are we now come, that though the 
 cuftom is yet preferved, yet we can hardly bear with 
 him that feems to perform it with any degree of feriouf- 
 nefs, and look upon It as a Cign of fanatical temper, if 
 a man has not done it as foon as he begins. 
 
 I would not be thought to plead for the neceffity of 
 
 Jong 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 67 
 
 long prayers at thefe times ; but thus much I think may 
 be faid, that if prayer is proper at thefe times, we ought 
 to obUge ourfeh'es to ufe fuch a form of words as fliould 
 fliew that we folemnly appeal to God for fuch graces 
 and blelTmgs as are then proper to the occafion. O- 
 therwife the mock ceremony, initead of bleiTing our 
 vi6luals, does but accuilom us to trifle with devotion, 
 and give us a habit of being unafre6led with our prayers. 
 
 If every head of a family was, at the return 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 fwearing, 
 fenfuality, gluttony, and loofe difcourfe, were very im- 
 proper at thofe meals, which were to begin and end 
 with devotion. 
 
 And if in thefe days of general corruption, this part 
 of devotion is fallen into a mock ceremony, it mufl be 
 imputed to this caufe, that fenfuality and intemperance 
 have got too great a power over us, to fuffer us to add 
 any devotion to our meals. But thus much mult be 
 faid, that when we are as pious as Jews and Heathens 
 of all ages have been, we fhail think it proper to pray 
 at the beginning and end of cur meals. 
 
 I have appealed to this pious cuftom of all ages oi 
 the world, as a proof of the realbnablenefs of the doc- 
 trine of this and the foregoing chapters ; that is, as a 
 proof that religion is to be the rule and meafure of all 
 the aflions of ordinary life. For furely, if we are not 
 to eat, but under fuch rules of devotion, it mufl plain- 
 ly appear, that whatever elfe we do, rnuit in its proper 
 way, be done with the fame regard to the glory of God, 
 and agreeably to the principles of a devout and pious 
 mind. 
 
 CHAP 
 
40 A sEraous call to a. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Terfons that are free from the nccejjtt^ of labour and em- 
 ploymentSy are to confider themjdves as devoted to God 
 in a higher degree, 
 
 GREAT part of the world are free from the necef- 
 fities of labour and employments, and 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 bufmefs in luch a manner,, 
 as to make it a f^rvice unto God ; fo thofe who have 
 no particular employment, are fo far from being left at 
 greater liberty to live to themfelves, to purfue their 
 own humours, and fpend their time and fortunes as they 
 pleafe, that they are under greater obhgations of living 
 wholly unto God in all their adlions. 
 
 The freedom of their ftate lays them under a greater 
 neceflity of always chufmg and doing the beft thmgs. 
 
 They are thofe, of v/hom much will be req^^uired, be- 
 caufe much is given unto themi. 
 
 A llave can only live unto God in one particular wayj . 
 that is, by religious patience and fubmiffion in his ftate 
 of flavery. 
 
 But all ways of holy living, all Inflances, 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 mod per- 
 fect manner j it is as much their duty to be thus wife in 
 the conduct of themfelves, and thus extenfive in their 
 endeavours after holinefs, as it is the duty of a Have 
 to be refigned unto God in his flate of flavery. 
 ,. You are no labourer, or tradefman, you are neither 
 
 merchant 
 
DEVOUT AND KOLY LIFE. 69^ 
 
 merchant nor foldier ; confider yourfelf, therefore, as 
 placed in a fcate in feme degree like that of good an- 
 gels, who are fent into the world as miniifering fpi- 
 rits, for the general good of mankind, to afiiit, protect, 
 and miniller for them who fhali be heirs of faivation. 
 
 For the more you are free from the common necef- 
 fities of men, the more you are to imitate the higher 
 perfections of angels. 
 
 Had you, Serena, been obliged by the nccefiities o£ 
 life, to wafh cloaths for your maintenance, or to wait 
 upon fome miilrefs, that demanded all your labour, it 
 would then be your duty to ferve and glorify God, by 
 fuch humility, obedience, and faithfulnefs, as might a- 
 dorn that ft ate of hfe. 
 
 It would then be recommended to your care, to im- 
 prove that one talent to its greateit height. That when, 
 the time came, that mankind were to be rewarded for 
 their labours by the great judge of quick and deadj 
 you might be received with a we// done good T^nd faith' 
 ju/fervanti enter t/.ou into the joy of tl:e Lord. Si. Matth. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 But as God has given you five talents, as he has placed 
 you above the neceifities of life, as he has left you in the 
 hands of yourfelf in the happy liberty of chuiing the 
 molt exalted ways of virtue, as he has enriched you with 
 many gifts of fortune, and left you nothing to do> but to 
 make the belt ufe of variety of bleihngs, to make the 
 moit of a fiiort life, to itudy your own perfection, the 
 honour of God, and the good of your neighbour j fo 
 it is now your duty to imitate the greateft iervants of 
 God, to enquire hov/ the molt emineuL faints liave lived, 
 to Itudy all the arts and methods of perfection, and to 
 fet no bounds to your love and gratitude to the bounti- 
 ful Author of fo many bielhngs. 
 
 It is now your duty to turn your five trilents into five 
 more, and to conhder hov/ your time, and ieiiure, and 
 health, and fortune, may be made i'o many happy means 
 of purifying your ov/n foul, improving your ieilow-crea- 
 tures in the ways of virtue, and of carrying you at lalt 
 to the greateit heights of eternal glory. 
 
 As you have no miftrefs to ferve, fo let your own foul 
 ■ho the obje<l^ of your daily care and attendance. Be 
 
 forry 
 
^0 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 forry for its impunities, its fports and imperfe£lions, 
 and ftudy all the holy arts of reftoring it to its natural 
 and primitive purity. 
 
 Delight in its fervice, andbeg of God to adorn it with 
 every grace and perfe£tion. 
 
 Nourilli it with good works, give it peace in folitude, 
 get it {Irength in prayer, make it wile with reading, 
 enlighten it by meditation, make it tender v/ith love, 
 fweeten it with humility, humble it with patience, en- 
 liven it with Plalms and Hymns, and comfort it with 
 frequent reflections upon future glory. Keep it in the 
 prefence of God, and teach it to imitate thofe guardiaa 
 angels, v/hich, though they attend no human affairs, 
 and the lowelt of mankind, yet akvays behold the face 
 of cttir Father which is in heaven. St Mat. xviii. 10. 
 
 This, Serena, is your profeflion. For as fure as God 
 is one God, fo fure it is, that he has but one command 
 to ail mankind, whether they be bond or free, rich or 
 poorj and that is, to a£l up to the excellency of that na- 
 ture which he has given them, to live by reafon, to walk 
 in the light of religion, to ufe every thing as wildom 
 dire6ls, to glorify God in all his gifts, and dedicate eve- 
 ry condition 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 pow- 
 er, you are obliged to be thus reafonable, and holy, 
 and pious, in the ufe of all your time, and all your for- 
 tune. 
 
 The right religious ufe of every thing, and every ta- 
 lent, is the indifpenfable duty of every being that is ca- 
 pable of knowing right and wrong. 
 
 For the reafon why we are to do any. thing as un- 
 to 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 reafon for our being wife and ho- 
 ly in the difcharge of all our bufinefs, is the fame rea- 
 fon for our being wife and holy in the ufe of ail our 
 money. 
 
 As 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 71 
 
 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, fo we mult always acl according to the reafoii 
 of our nature *, we muil do every thing as the fervants 
 of God ; we muil live in every place, as in his prefencej 
 we mull ufe every thing, as that ought to be ufed, which 
 belongs to God. 
 
 Either this piety and wifdom, and devotion is to go 
 through 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 ourfelves, or forget God, if we 
 might difregard our reafon, and live by humour and 
 fancy in any thing, or at any time, or in any place, it 
 Would be as lawful to do the lame in every thing, at 
 every time, and every place. 
 
 If therefore feme people fancy, that they muft be 
 grave and folemn at church, but may be filly and fran- 
 tick at home ; that they muft live by fome rule on the 
 Sunday, but may fpend other days by chance; that they 
 muft have fome times of Prayer, but may waite the rell 
 of their time as they pleafe j that they mult give fome 
 money in charity, but may fquander away the reft as 
 they have a mind; fuch people have not enough conh- 
 dered the nature of Religion, or the true reafons of pi- 
 ety. For he that upon principles of reafon can tell, 
 why it is good to be wife and heavenly -minded at church, 
 can tell that it's always deiirable, to have the fame tem- 
 pers in all other places. He that truly knows, why he 
 fhould fpend any time well, knows that it is never allow- 
 able to throw any time away. He that rightly under- 
 ftands the reafonablenefs, and excellency of charity, 
 will knov/, that it can never be excufable to wafte any 
 of our money in pride and folly, or in any needlefs ex- 
 pences. 
 
 For every argument that fhews the wifdom and excel- 
 lency of charity, proves the wifdom of fpending all our 
 fortune well.- Every argument that proves the wifdom 
 and reafonablenefs of having times of prayer, ihev/s the 
 wifdom and reafonablenefs of lofmg none of our time. 
 
 If any one could ihew, that we need not always a6t as 
 in the divine prefence, that we need not couiider and ufe 
 
 every 
 
72 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 every thing, as the gift of God, that we need not always 
 live by reafon, and make rehgion the rule of all our ac* 
 tions, the fame arguments would fliew, that we need ne- 
 ver a£l as in the prefence of God, nor make religion and 
 reafon the meafure of any of our anions. 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, v/e are to 
 life every thing as his gift. If we are to do any thing 
 by ftriO; rules of reafon and piety, we ought to do every 
 thing in the fame manner. Becaufe reafon, and wif- 
 dom, and piety are as much the bed things at all times^ 
 and in all places, as they are the belt things at any time, 
 or in any place. 
 
 If it is our glory and happinefs to have a rational na- 
 ture, that is endued with wifdom and reafon, that is ca- 
 pable of imitating the Divine nature *, then it muft be our 
 glory and happinefs, to improve our reafon and wifdom, 
 to a6t up to the excellency of our rational nature, and to 
 imitate God in all our aftions, to the utmolt of our pow- 
 er. They therefore, M^ho confine religion to times and 
 places, and fome little rules of retirement, w^ho think 
 that it is being too UriCt and rigid to introduce reiigicu 
 into common life, and make it give laws to all their ac- 
 tions and ways of living, they who think thus, r.ot only 
 miftake, but they miftake the whole nature of religion. 
 For furely they m.iftake the whole nature of religion, 
 who can think, any part of their life is made more eafy, 
 for being free from it. They ma}'- well be faid to mif- 
 take the whole nature of wifdom, who don't think it dc- 
 firable to be always wife. He has not learnt the nature 
 of piety, who thinks it too much to be pious in all his 
 a6lions. He does not fufficientiy unclerftand v/hat rea- 
 fon is, who does not earneftly defire to live in every thing 
 according to it. 
 
 If we had a Religion that conlifled in abfurd fuper- 
 flitions, tliat had no regard to the perfedlion of our na^ 
 ture, people might ^ell be glad to have fome part of 
 their life excufed from it. But as the Religion of the 
 Gofpel is only the refinement and exaltation of our beft 
 faculties, as it only requires a life of the highefl Reafon, 
 as it only requires us to ufc this woild as in reafon it 
 
 ought 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 73 
 
 *^ught to be ufed, to live in fuch tempers as are the glory 
 of intelligent beings, to walk in fuch wifdom as exalts 
 •our nature, and to pracflife 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 every 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, as God is one and the fame Being, always 
 acting 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 
 ^o zO: like itfelf. 
 
 It is therefore an immutable law of God, that all ra- 
 tional beings fliould zO: reafonably in all their actions ; 
 not at this time, or in that place, or upon this occafion, 
 ^r in the ufe of fome particular thing, but at all times, 
 in all places, at all occahons, 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 ceafe to be a God of 
 wifdom and order. 
 
 When therefore any being that Is endued with reafon 
 •does an unreafonable thing at any time, or in any place, 
 -or in the ufe of any thing, it fms againft the great law 
 of its nature, abufes itfelf, and fms againll God the au- 
 thor of that nature. 
 
 They therefore, who plead for indulgences and vani- 
 ties, for any foolilh faihions, cufloms and humours of 
 the world, for the mifufe of our time or money, plead for 
 a rebellion againll: our nature, for a rebeliion againft 
 God, who has given us reafon for no other end, than to 
 make it the rule and meafure of all our ways of life. 
 
 When therefore you are guilty of any folly or extrava- 
 gance, or indulge any vain temper, don't confider it as 
 a fmall matter, becaufe it may feem fo, if compared to 
 fome other fms -, but confider it, as it is acting contrary 
 to your nature, and then you will fee that there is no- 
 thing fmall that is unreafonable. Becaufe all unreafon- 
 able ways are contrary to the nature of all rational be- 
 ings, whether men or angels. Neither of which can be 
 any longer agreeable to God, than fo far as they a6t ac- 
 cording to the reafon and excellence of their nature. 
 The infirmities of human life make fuch food and rai- 
 ment 
 
H A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ment neceflary for us, as angels do not want ; but then 
 it is no more allowable for us to turn thefe neceflities into 
 follies, and indulge ourfeives in the luxury of food, or 
 the vanities of drefs, than it is allowable for Angels to 
 a(Sl below the dignity of their proper ftate. For a rea- 
 fonable life, and a wife ufe of our proper condition, is as 
 much the duty of all men, as it is the duty of all Angels 
 and intelligent beings. Thefe are not fpeculative flights, 
 or imaginary notions, but are plain and undeniable laws, 
 that are founded in the nature of rational beings who as 
 fuch are obliged to live by reafon, and glorify God by 
 a continual right ufe of their feveral talents and faculties. 
 So that though men are not Angels, yet they may know 
 for what ends, and by what rules men are to live and 
 a6t, by confidering the flate and perfection of Angels. 
 Our blefled Saviour has plainly turned our thoughts this 
 way, by making this petition a conftant part of all our 
 prayers, Thy tuill be done on earth as it is in heaven, A 
 plain proof, that the obedience of men, is to imitate the 
 obedience of Angels, 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 de- 
 grees of wiidom and holinefs they ought to ufe the things 
 of this lifej you muft not look at the world, but yov 
 mud look up to God, and the fociety of Angels, and 
 think what v/ifdom and holinefs is fit to prepare you foi 
 fuch a ftate of glory, you muft look to all the highefl 
 precepts of the Gofpel ; you muft examine yourfelf b^ 
 the fpirit of Chrift ; you muft think how the wifeft mei 
 in the world have lived •, you muft think how departec 
 fouls would live, if they were again to aO: the fliort par 
 of human life ; you muft think what degrees of wifdon 
 and holinefs, you will wifh for, when you are leavin; 
 the world. 
 
 Now all this is not over-ftraining the matter, or pre 
 pofmg to ourfeives any needlefi perfeCiion. It is bu 
 barely complying with the Apoftle's advice, where h 
 fays. Finally brethren, ichatjoever things are true, ivha\ 
 Joever things are juji, ivhatfoever things are pure, ivhatj 
 ever things are of good report ; if there he any virtue, and 
 
 the. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 75 
 
 there he an^prmfe^ thinl en theje things , Phil. iv. 8, For 
 no one can come near the doctrine of this paflage, but 
 he that propofes to himfelf to do ,every thing in this Ufe 
 as a fervant of God, to Uve by reafon in every thing that 
 he does, and to make the wifdom and hohnefs of the 
 gofpel, the rule and meafure cf his defiring and ufmg 
 every gift of God. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Qontaming the great ohligationSi and the great advantages 
 of making a ivije and religiyiis ufe of our eftates and for- 
 tunes. 
 
 A 
 
 S the holinefs of Chrlftianity confecrates all dates 
 and employments of life unto God, as it requires 
 tis to afpire after an univerfal obedience, doing and ufmg 
 every thing as the fervants of God, fo are we more ef- 
 pecially obliged to obferve this religious exa6tnefs, in 
 the ufe of our eftates and 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 eyes, or our hands, 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 behdes this confideration, there are feveral other 
 great and important reafons, why we Ihould be religi- 
 oufly exa6l in the ufe of our eftates. 
 
 I'lrfty Becaufe the manner of ufmg our money, or 
 fpending our eftate, enters fo far into the bufmefs of 
 every day, and makes fo great a part of our common 
 life, that our common life muft be much of the fame na- 
 ture, as our common way of fpending our eftate. If rea- 
 fon and religion govern us in this \ then reafon and 
 religion hatn got great hold of usj but if humour, pride 
 and fancy, are themeafures of our fpending our eftates, 
 then humour, pride and fancy, will have the direction 
 of the greateft part of our life. 
 
 Secondly^ Another great reafon for devoting all our 
 
 eftate 
 
76 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 eftatc to right ufes, Is this, becaufe it is capable of beings 
 •ufed to tlie mod excellent purpofes, and is fo great a 
 means of doing good. If we walte it, wc don't wafte 
 a trifle, that fignifics little, but v/e wafte that which 
 might be made as eyes to the blind, as a hufband to the 
 widow, as a father to the orphan ; We waile that, which 
 not only enables us to minifter worldly comforts to thofe 
 tliat are in diflrefs, but that which might purchafe for 
 curfelves everlafting treafures in heaven. So that if we 
 part with our money in foolifli ways, we part with a great 
 power of comforting our fellow-creatures, and of ma- 
 king ourfelves for ever ble fled. 
 
 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 lovt. and goodnefs, making ourfelves 
 friends, fathers, bcncfa<5lors, to all our iellow-creatures, 
 imitating the divine love, and turning all our power into 
 a£ls of gcnerofity, care and kindnefs, to fuch as are in 
 need of it. 
 
 If a man had eyes, and hands, and feet, that he could 
 give to thofe that wanted them ; if he fliould either 
 lock them up in a chefl, or pleafe himfelf with fome 
 needlefs or ridiculous ufe of them, inftead of giving them 
 to his brethren that were blind and lame, Ihould we not 
 jultly reckon him an inhuman wretch ? If he fhould 
 rather chufe to amufe himfelf with furnilhing his houfe 
 •with thofe tilings, than to entitle himfelf to an eternal 
 reward, by giving them to thofe that wanted eyes and 
 hands, might we not jullly reckon him mad ? 
 
 Now money has very much the nature of eyes and 
 feet ; if we either lock it up in cheils, or wafle it in 
 jieedlefs and ridiculous expences upon ourfelves, whiHt 
 the poor and the diftrefled want it for their neccifary 
 ufes; if we confume it in the ridiculous ornaments of 
 apparel, whilft others are itarving in nakednefs, we are 
 not far from the cruelty of him that chufes rather to a- 
 (iorn his houfe with the hands and eyes, than to give 
 them to thofe that want them. If we chufe to indulge 
 ourfelves in fuch expenllve enjoyments, as have no real 
 ufe in them, fuch as fatisfy no real want, rather than to 
 entitle ourfelves to an eternal reward, by difpofing of 
 
 our 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 77 
 
 our money well, we are guilty of his madnefs, that ra- 
 ther chufes to lock up eyes and hands, than to make 
 himfelf for ever bleffed, by giving them to thofe that 
 want them. 
 
 For after we have fatisfied our own fober and reafon- 
 able wants, all the re(t of our money is but like fpare 
 eyes, or hands 5 it is fomething tliat we cannot keep to 
 ourfelves, without being fooUfh in the ufe of it, fome- 
 thing that can only be ufed well, by giving it to thofe 
 that want it. 
 
 Thirdly^ If we wade cur money, wc are not only 
 guilty of wafting a talent which God has given us, we 
 nre not only guilty of making that ufelefs, which is fo 
 powerful a means of doing good, but we do ourfelves 
 this farther harm, that we turn this ufeful talent into a 
 powerful means of corrupting ourfelves ; becaufe fo far 
 as it is fp^nt wrong, fo far it is fpent in the fupport of 
 fome wrong temper, in gratifying fome vain and unrea- 
 (bnahle defires in conforming to thofe fafliions, and pride 
 of the world, which, as Chriltians and reafonable men, 
 we are obliged to renounce. 
 
 As wit and line parts cannot be trifled away and only 
 Joft, but will expofe thofe that have them into greater 
 follies, if they are not ftric^ly devoted to piety ; fo mo- 
 ney, if it is not ufed ftri6lly according to reafon and re- 
 ligion, cannot only be trifled away, but it will betray peo- 
 ple into greater follies, and make them live a more filly 
 and extravagant life, than the}'" could have done without 
 it. If, therefore, you don't fpend your m,oney in doing 
 good to others, you mult fpend it to the hurt of your- 
 felf. You will acSl, like a man, that (liould refufe to 
 give that as a cordial to a lick friend, though he could 
 not drink it himfelf without inflaming his blood. For 
 this is the cafe of fuperfluous money ; if you give it to 
 thofe that want it, it is a cordial ', if you fpend it upon 
 yourfelf in fomething that you do not want, it only in- 
 flames and diforders your mind, and makes you v/orfe 
 than you would be without it. 
 
 Confider again the forementioned comparifon ; if the 
 man that would not make a right ufe of fpare eyes and 
 hands, fhould by continually trying to ufe them himfelf, 
 
 D fpcil 
 
78 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 fpoil his own eyes and hands, we might juftly accufe 
 him of ftill greater madnefs. 
 
 Now this is truly the cafe of riches fpent upon our- 
 feh^es in vain 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- 
 fonabie defires, in nourifhing ill tempers, in indulging 
 our palTions, and fupporting a worldly, vain turn of 
 mind. For high eating and drinking, fine cloaths, and 
 fine houfes, date and equipage, gay pleafures and diver- 
 fions, do all of them naturally hurt and diforder our 
 hearts *, they are the food and nouriflmient of all the 
 folly and weaknefs of our nature, and are certain means 
 to make us vain and worldly in our tempers. They are 
 all of them the fupport of fomething that ought not to 
 be fupported -, they are contrary to that fobriety and pie- 
 ty of heart, which reliihcs divine things •, they are hke 
 fo many weights upon our minds, that makes us lefs a- 
 ble, and lefs inclined to raife up our thoughts and affec- 
 tions to the things that are above. 
 
 So that money thus fpent, is not merely wafted or 
 loft, but it is fpent to bad purpofes, and miferable effects, 
 to the corruption and diforder 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 money from the 
 poor, to buy poifon for ourfelves. 
 
 For fo much as is fpent in the vanity of drefs, may be 
 reckoned fo much laid out to fix vanity in our minds. 
 So much as is laid cut for idlenefs and indulgence, may 
 be reckoned fo much given to render our hearts dull and 
 fenfual. So much as is fpent in ftate and equipage, may 
 be reckoned fo much fpent to dazzle your own eyes, 
 and render you the idol of your own imagination. And 
 fo in every thing, when you go from reafonable wants, 
 you only fupport fome unreafonable temper, fome turn 
 of mind, which every good chriRian is called upon to 
 Renounce. 
 
 So that on all accounts, whether we confider our for- 
 tune as a talent and truft from God, or the great good 
 that it enables us to do, or the great harm that it does to 
 ourfelves, if idly fpent j on all thefe great accounts it 
 
 appears, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 7^ 
 
 9.ppears, that it is abfolutely neceflary, to make reafon 
 and religion the iln£k rule of ufing all our fortune. 
 
 Every exhortation in Scripture to be wife and reafon- 
 able, fatisfying only fuch wants as God would have 
 fatisfied ; every exhortation to be fpiritual and heavenly, 
 preiTing after a glorious change of our nature ; every 
 exhortation to love our neighbour as ourfelves, to love 
 all mankind as God has loved them, is a command to 
 be ftri£l:ly religious in the ufe of our money. For none 
 of thefe tempers can be complied with, unlefs we be 
 wife and reafonable, fpiritual and heavenly, exerciling a 
 brotherly love, a godlike charity in the ufe of all our for- 
 tune. Thefe tempers, and this ufe of our worldly goods, 
 is fo much the do61:i"ine of all the New Teflament, that 
 you can't read a chapter, without being taught fome- 
 thing of it. I fhall only produce one remarkable paf- 
 fage of fcripture, which is fufficient to jullify all that 
 I have faid concerning this rehgious ufe of all our for- 
 tune. 
 
 *< When the Son of man (hall come in his glory, and 
 all the holy Angels with him, then fhall he fit upon the 
 throne of his glory. And before him fl^all be gathered 
 all nations •, and he fliall feparate them one from another, 
 as a fhepherd divideth the Iheep from the goats ; and he 
 fhall fet the fheep on his right hand, but the goats on the 
 left. Then fhall the King fay unto them on his right 
 hand, Come, ye blcfl'ed of my Father, inherit the king- 
 dom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 
 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat : I was 
 thirfly, and ye gave me drink ; 1 was a ftranger and ye 
 took me in ; naked, and ye cloathed me ; I was fick and 
 ye vifited me ; I was in prifon and ye came unto me.— - 
 Then ihall he fay unto them on the left hand, Depart 
 from me, ye curled, into everialling fire, prepared for 
 the devil and his angels : for I v/as an hungered, and ye 
 gave me no meat ; 1 was thirity, and ye gave me no 
 drink ; I was a itranger, and ye took m.e not in ; naked, 
 and ye cloathed me not -, fick, and in prifon, and ye vi- 
 iited me not. Thefe fhall go av/ay into everlaiiing pu- 
 nifhment, but the righteous into life eternal." 
 
 I have quoted this palTage at length, becaufe if one 
 
 looks at the way of the world, one would hardly ihink, 
 
 D 2 that 
 
so A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 that Chriftlans had ever read this part of Scripture* 
 For what is there in the Uves of Chriftians, that looks 
 as if their falvation depended upon thefe good works ? 
 And yet the neceflity of them is here aflerted in the 
 higheft manner, and prefled upon us by a hvely de- 
 fcription of the glory and terrors of the day of judg- 
 ment. 
 
 Some people, even of thofe who may be reckoned 
 virtuous Chriftians, look upon this t«xt only as a general 
 recommendation of occafional works of charity -, where- 
 as it fhews the neceflity not only of occafional charities 
 new and then, but the neceflity of fuch an entire chari- 
 table life, as is a continual exercife of all fuch works of 
 charity as we are able to perform. 
 
 You own, that you have no title to falvation, if you 
 have negletted thefe good works ; becaufe fuch perlons 
 as have negledled them, are at the laft day to be placed 
 on the left hand, and banilhed with a depart ye curfed. 
 There is, therefore, no falvation but in the performance 
 of thefe good works. Who is it, therefore, that may 
 be faid to have performed thefe good works ? Is it he 
 that has fometimes aflifled a prifoner, or relieved the poor 
 or fick ? This would be as ahfurd, as to fay, that he 
 had performed the duties of devotion, who hadfometirnes 
 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 truly ju(t man, who 
 had done ads of judice feveral times. vVhat is the 
 Tule therefore, or meafure of performing thefe good 
 works ? How fliall a mantrult 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 juit, or faithful man ? Is it he that has feveral times 
 clone afts of humility, meeknefs, devotion, juilice, or 
 fidelity ? No. 'But it is he that lives in the habitual ex- 
 ercife of thefe virtues. In like manner, he only can be 
 faid to have performed thefe works of charity, who lives 
 in the habitual exercife of them to the utmoil of his pow- 
 er. He only has performed the duty of divine love, 
 who loves God with all his heart, aadvv'iih aJi his mind, 
 
 and 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 81 
 
 and with all his flrength. And he only has performed 
 the duty of thefe good works, who has done them with 
 all his heart, and v/ith all his mind, and wirh all his 
 flrength. For there is no other meafure of our doing 
 good, than our power of doing it. 
 
 The Apoftle St. Peter puts this queftlon to our blelTed 
 Saviour, Lord, hew oftfiall my brother fin againjl me^ and 
 I forgive htm, tillfeven times F 'J ejus faith 
 unto hiyn, I fay not unto thee, until fevcn Mat. iii 22. 
 times ; hut until fevcntv times [even. Not 
 as if after this number of offences, a man might then 
 ceafe to forgive ; by the exprelhon of fcventy times fe- 
 ven, is to (hew us that we are not to bound our forgive- 
 nefs by any number of offences, but are to continue for- 
 giving the mod repeated offences againft us. Thus our 
 Saviour faith in another place, if he 
 trefpafs againft thee feven times in a Luke xvii. 4. 
 day, and feven times in a day turn a- 
 gain to thee, faying, I repent, thou fhalt 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, becaufe he has forgiven feveral 
 others; fuch a one breaks this law of Chnil, concern- 
 ing tiie forgiving one's brother. 
 
 Now the rule of forgiving, is alfo the rule of giving ; 
 you are not to give, or ^o good to feven, but to ieventy 
 times feven. You are not to ceafe from giving, becaufe 
 yoa have given often to the iixme perfon, or to other 
 perfons ; but muff look upon ycurfelf as much obHged 
 to continue relieving thofe 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 perfon once •, but if it is in your power to 
 relieve people often, it is as much your duty to ^o it 
 often, as it is the duty of others to do it but feldom, 
 becaufe they are but feldom able. He that is not reaJy 
 to forgive every brother, as olten as he wants to be for- 
 given, does not forgive like a difcipie of Chriit. And 
 he that is not ready to give to every brother, that wants 
 to have fometliing given him, does not give like a difci- 
 pie of Chrift. For it is as neceffary to give to feventy 
 times feve% to live in the continual exercife of all g >od 
 
 D 3 works 
 
82 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 works to the utmoft of our power, as it Is necefTary to 
 forgive until feventy times feven, and live in the habitu- 
 al exercifc of this forgiving temper towards all that want 
 it. 
 
 And the reafon of all this is very plain, becaufe there 
 is the iame goodnefs, the fame excellency, and the fame 
 i^eceffity of being thus charitable at one time, as at ano- 
 ther, it is as much the bell ufe of our money, to be 
 always doing good with it, as it is the beil ufe of it at 
 any f articular time ; fo that that which is a reafon for 
 a chaiirnble a(S^ion, is as good a reafon for a charitable 
 life. ThatM'hich is a reafon for forgiving one offence, 
 is the fame reafon for forgiving all offences. For fuch 
 charity has nothing to recommend it to-day, but what 
 will be the fame recommendation of it to-morrow ; and 
 you cannot ncglccl: it at one time, without being guilty 
 of the fame fin, as if you negle6led it at another time. 
 
 As fure, tlierefore, as thefe works of charity are ne- 
 ccfiary to falvation, fo fure is it, that we are to do them 
 to the utmoft of our power 5 not to-day, or to-morrow, 
 but through tlie whole courfe of our life. If therefore 
 it be our duty at any time to deny ourfelves any needlefs 
 expenccs, to be moderate and frugal, that we may have 
 to give to thofe that want, it is as much our duty to do 
 fo at all times, that we may be farther able to do more 
 good : For if it is at any time a fin to prefer needlefs, vain 
 expence to works of charity, 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 neceilary to 
 our falvation, to take care of thefe works of charity, and 
 to fee that we make ourfelves in fome degree capable of 
 doing them ; it is as necefTary to our f^dvation, to take 
 care to make ourfelves as capable as we can be, of per- 
 forming them in all the parts of our life. 
 
 Either therefore you muft fo far renounce your Chrif- 
 tianity, as to fay, that you need never perform any of 
 thefe good works ; or you muft 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 than there is a middle way betwixt pride and humi- 
 lity, or temperance and intemperance. If you do not 
 Itrive to fulfil all charitable works^ if you neglect any of 
 
 them 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 83 
 
 them that are in your power, and deny afTiftance to thofe 
 that want what you can give, let it be when it will, or 
 where it will, you number yourfelf amongft thofe that 
 want Chriilian charity. Becaufe 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 
 temperate in all that you eat and drink. 
 
 Hence alfo appears the neceffity of renouncingall thofe 
 foolifli and unreafonable expences, which the pride and 
 folly of mankind has made fo common and falhionable 
 in the world. For if it is neceflary to do good works as 
 far as you are able, it muft be as neceflary to renounce 
 thofe needlefs ways of 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 fpend with thofe that idly 
 wafte their money as their own humour leads them, that 
 you muft drink with the drunken, or indulge yourfelf 
 with the Epicure y becaufe a courfe of fuch expences is 
 no more confiftent with a life of charity, than excefs in 
 drinking is confiftent witli a life of fobriety. When 
 therefore any one tells you of the lawfuinefiof expenfive 
 apparel, of the innocency of pleafmg yourfelf with coftly 
 fatisf actions, only imagine that the fame perfon was to 
 tell you, tliat you need not do works of charity, that 
 Chrilt does not require you to do good unto your poor 
 brethren, as unto him, and then you will fee the wicked- 
 nefs of fuch advice •, for to tell you, that you may live in 
 fuch expences, as to make it impolhble 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 fuch good 
 works themfelvss. 
 
 D 4 CHAP. 
 
84. A SERIOUS CALL TOi 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Hoiu the Imprudent ufe of an eftate corrupts all the tempers 
 cf the jnind, and fills the heart nvith poor and ridiculous 
 pajfions through the %vhole courfe of life; reprefentedin the 
 cha abler of Flavia. 
 
 1 T has already been obferved, that a prudent and re- 
 i ligious care is to be ufed. in the manner of fpending 
 our money or eflate, becaufe the manner of fpending our 
 eilate makes fo great a part of our common life, and is 
 fo much the buiinefs of every day, that according as we 
 are wife, or imprudent, in this refpe6t, the whole courfe 
 of our lives, will be rendered either very wife, or very 
 full of folly. 
 
 Perfons that are well affecled to Religion, that receive 
 inflruclions of piety with pleafure and fatisfadlion, often 
 wonder how it comes to pafs, that they make no greater 
 progrefs in that religion which they fo much admire. 
 
 Now the reafon of it is this : it is becaufe Religion 
 lives only in their head, but fomething elfe has poffef- 
 fion of their hearts ; and therefore they continue from 
 year to year mere admirers, and praifers of piety, with- 
 out ever coming up to the reality and perfection of its 
 precepts. 
 
 If it be afked why Religion does not get polTeffion of 
 their hearts, the reafon is this. It is not becaufe they 
 live in grois fins, or debaucheries, for their regard to re- 
 ligion preferves them from fuch diforders. 
 
 But it is becaufe their hearts are conflantly employed, 
 perverted, and kept in a wrong ftate, by the indifcreet 
 ufe of fuch things as are lawful to be ufed. 
 
 The ufe and enjoyment of their eftates 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 imprudent ufe of their eftates, which 
 though it does not defhroy like grofs fins, yet fo diforders 
 the heart, and fupports it in fuch fenfuaiity and dulnefs, 
 fuch pride and vanity, as makes it incapable of receiving 
 the life and fpirit of piety. 
 
 For 
 
DEVOUT AND KOLT LIFE. 85 
 
 For our fouls may receive an infinite hurt, and be ren- 
 dered incapable of all virtue, merely by the ufe of inno~ 
 cent and lawful tnings. 
 
 What is more innocent than refl andretireihent? And 
 yet what more da!igerous, than lloth and idlenefs ? What 
 is more lawful than eating and drinking? And yet what 
 more dellrucSlive of all virtue, what more fruitful of ail 
 vice, than fenfualit}'- and indulgence ? 
 
 Hew lawful and praife-worthj is the care of a fami- 
 ly ? And yet how certainly are many people rendered 
 incapable of all virtue, by a worldly and foiicitous tem- 
 per ? . 
 
 Now it is for want of religious exa£lnefs in the ufe of 
 *thefe innocent and lawful things, that Religion cannot 
 get polTeffion of our hearts. And it is in the right and 
 prudent management of ourfelves, as to thefe things, 
 that all the art of holy living chiefly confifts. 
 
 Grofs fins are plainly feen, and eafily avoided by per- 
 fons that profefs religion. But the indifcreet and dan- 
 gerous ufe of innocent and lawful things, as it does not 
 Ihock and ofrend our confcienoe, fo it is difficult to make, 
 people at all fenfible of the danger c^f it. 
 
 A Gentleman that expends all his eilate in fports, and 
 a woman that lays out ail her fortune upon herfelf, can , 
 hardly be perfuaded that the fpirit of Religion cannot 
 fubfifi in fuch away of life. 
 
 Thefe perfons, as has been obferved, may live free 
 from debaucheries, they may be friends of religion, fo 
 far as to praife and fpeak well of it, and admire it in 
 their imaginations •, but it cannot govern their hearts, 
 and by the fpirit of their a6lions, till they change their 
 way of life, and let Religion give laws to the ufe and 
 fpending of their ellates. 
 
 For a woman that loves drefs, that thinks no expence 
 too great to beftow upon the adorning of her perfon,. 
 cannot flop there. For that temper draws a thoufand 
 other follies along with it, and will render the whole 
 courfe of her life, her bufinefs, her cpnverfation, lier 
 hopes, her fears, her tafle, her pleafures, and divcrfionsj), 
 all fuitable to it. 
 
 Flavia and Miranda are two m>aiden fifters, that have 
 cagh of them two hundred pounds a year. They buried. 
 
 D 5 their 
 
86 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 their parents twenty years ago, and have fince that time 
 fpent their eftate as they pleafed. 
 
 Flavia has been the wonder of all her friends, for her 
 excellent management, in making fo furprizing a figure 
 on fo moderate a fortune. Several ladies that have twice 
 her fortune, are not able always to be fo genteel, and 
 fo conftant at all places of pleafure and expence. She 
 has every thing that is in the fafhion, and is in eve- 
 ry place where there is any diverfion. Flavia is very 
 orthodox, fhe talks warmly againft heretics, and fchif- 
 matics, is generally at Church, and often at the facra- 
 jnent. She once commended a fermon that was againft 
 the pride and vanity of drefs, and thought it was very^ 
 juft againft Lucinda, whom fhe takes to be a great deal 
 finer than fhe need to be. If any one afks Flavia to do 
 fomething in charity, if fhe likes the perfon who m^akes 
 the propofal, or happens to be in a right temper, fl^^e will 
 tofs him half a crown, or a crown, and tell him, if he 
 knew what a long Milliner's bill fhe had juft received he 
 would think it a great deal for her to give. A quarter 
 of a year after this, flie hears a fermon upon the neceflity 
 of charity ; fhe thinks the man preaches well, that it 
 is a very proper fubjedf, that people want much to be 
 put in mind of it ; but fhe applies nothing to herfelf, be« 
 caufe fhe remembers that flie gave a crown fome time 
 ago, when flie could fo ill fpare it. 
 
 As for poor people themfelves, fhe will admit of no 
 complaints from them -, flie is very pofitive they are all 
 cheats and liars, and will fay any thing to get relief, and 
 therefore it muft be a fm to encourage them in their evil 
 wa) s. 
 
 You v/ould think Flavia had the tendereft confcience 
 in the world, if you was to fee how fcrupuJous and 
 apprehenfive fhe is of the guilt and danger of giving a- 
 miis. 
 
 She buys all books of wit and humour, and- has 
 made an expenfive colleiStion of all our Englifh Poets. 
 For, Die fays, one cannot have a true talle of any of them, 
 without being very converfant with them all. 
 
 She will fonletimes read a book of piety, if it is a fhort 
 cne, if it is much commended for ftile and language, 
 and ihe can tell where to borrow it. 
 
 Flavia 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 87 
 
 Flavia is very idle, and yet very fond of fine work ; 
 this makes her often fit working in bed until noon, and 
 be told many a long ftory before flie is up ; fo that I 
 need not tell you that her morning devotions are not 
 always rightly performed. 
 
 Fhvia would be a miracle of piety, if flie was but half 
 fo careful of her foul as fhe is of her body. The rifing of 
 a pimple in her face, the iling of a gnat, will make her 
 keep her room two or three days, and fhe thinks they 
 are very rafh people, that do not take care of things in 
 time. This makes her fo over careful of her health, 
 that (he never thinks flie is well enough ; and fo over- 
 indulgent, that file never can be really well. So that it 
 cofts her a great deal in ileeping draughts, and waking- 
 draughts, in fpirits for the head, in drops for the 
 nerves, in cordials for the fl:omach, and in fafFron for 
 her tea. 
 
 Ifyouvifit Flavia on the Sunday, you will always 
 meet good company, you will know what is doing in the 
 world, you will hear the lail lampoon, be told who wrote 
 it, and who is meant by every name that is in it. You 
 will hear what plays were Titied that week, which is the 
 fineil fong in the opera, who was intolerable at the lafh 
 aflembly, and what games are moft in fafliion. Flavia 
 thinks they are Atheifls that play at cards on the Sun- 
 day, but (he will tell you the nicety of all the games, 
 what cards (he held, how fhe played them, and the hi- 
 (lory of all that happened at play, as foon as (he comes 
 from church. If you would know who is rude and ill- 
 natured, who is vain and foppifh, who lives too high, 
 and who is in debt. If you would know what is the 
 quarrel at a certain houfe, or who and who are in love. 
 If you would know how late Belinda comes home at 
 night, what cloaths flie has bought, how fhe loves com- 
 pliments, and what a long ftory fhe told at fuch a place. 
 If you would know how crofs Lucius is to his wife, 
 what ill-natured things he fays to her when nobody 
 hears him ; if you would knov/ liow they hate one ano- 
 ther in their hearts, though they appear fo kind in pub- 
 lic ; you muft vifit Flavia on the Sunday. But ftill fhe 
 has fo great a regard for the holinefs of the Sunday, that 
 (he ha$ turned a poor old widow out of her houfe, as a 
 D 6 pro. 
 
bS A SET^lOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ^prophane wretch, for having been found once mending 
 her deaths on the Sunday night. 
 
 Thus Uves Flavia •, and if Ihe hves ten years longerj 
 fhe will have fpent about fifteen hundred and fixty Sun- 
 days after this manner. She will have wore about two 
 hundred different fuits of clothes. Out of this thirty years 
 of her life, fifteen of them will have been difpofed of in 
 bed ; and of the remaining fifteen, about fourteen of 
 them will have been confumed in eating drinking dref- 
 fing, vifiting, converfation, reading and hearing Piays 
 and Romances, at Operas, AITemblies, Balls and Diver- 
 lions. For you may reckon all the time {he is up, thus 
 fpent, except about an hour and half, that is difpofed of 
 at Church, moft Sundays in the year. With great ma- 
 nagemient, and under mighty rules of oeconomy, fhe will 
 have fpent fixty hundred pounds upon herfelf, bating on- 
 ly fome {hillings, crowns, or half-crowns, that have gone 
 from her in accidental charities. 
 
 I fiiall not take upon me to fay, that it is impoflible 
 for Flavia to be faved *, but thus much mult be faid, 
 that fhe has no grounds from Scripture to think flie is in 
 the way of falvation. For her whole life is in direct op- 
 pofition to all thofe tempers and pra^Stices, which the 
 gofpel has made neceffary to falvation. 
 
 If you was to hear lier fay, that fhe had lived all het 
 life like Anna the Prophetefs, ivho departed not from the 
 temple, hutjcrved God ivith fajl'mgs and prayers night and 
 day, you would look upon her as very extravagant ; and 
 yet this would be no greater an extravagance, than for 
 her to fay, that fhe had been ftriving to enter in at the 
 Ji rait gate, or making any one doclrine of the gofpel, a 
 rule of her life. 
 
 She may as well fay, that fhe lived with our Saviour 
 v/hen he was upon earth, as that fhe has lived in imita- 
 tion of him, or made it any part of hqr care to live ia 
 luch tempers, as he required of all thofe that would be 
 his difciples. She may as truly fay, that fhe has every 
 dny wafhed the faints feet, as that {he has lived in chri- 
 ftian humility, and poverty of fpirit ; and as reafonably 
 think, that Ihe has taught a charity-fchool, as that (he 
 has lived in works of charity. She has as much reafon 
 to think, that ilie has been a centinel in an army, as that 
 
 flie 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIPE. 89 . 
 
 file has lived in watching and felf-denial. And it may 
 as fairly be faid, that Ihe Hved by the labour of her 
 hands, as that (lie had given all diligence to make her cal^ 
 ling and eUBionfure. 
 
 And here it is well to be obferved, that the poor, 
 vain turn of mind, the irreligion, the folly and vani* 
 ty of this whole life of Flavia, is all owing to the man- 
 ner of ufing her eftate. It is this that has formed her 
 fpirit, that has given life to every idle tem.per, that 
 has fupported every trifling paffion, and kept her from 
 all thoughts of a prudent, ufcful, and devout life. 
 
 When her parents died, (he had no thought about her 
 two hundred pounds a year, but that flie had fo much 
 money to to do what ihe would with, to fpend upon her- 
 felf, and purchafe the pleafures and gratifications of all 
 her paflions. 
 
 And it is this fetting out, this falfe judgement, and 
 indifcreet ufe of their fortune, that has filled her whole 
 life with the fame indifcretion, and kept her from think- 
 ing of what is right, and wife, and pious in every thing 
 elfe. 
 
 If you have feen her delighted in plays and romances, 
 in fcandal and backbiting, eafily flattered, and foon af- 
 fronted. If you have feeu her devoted to pleafures and 
 diverfions, a flave to every pafliion in its turn, nice in 
 every thing that concerned her body or drefs, carelefs 
 of every thing that might benefit her foul, always want- 
 ing fome new entertainment, and ready for every hap- 
 py invention, in fhew or drefs, it was becaufe fhe had 
 purchafed all thefe tempers v/ith the yearly revenue of 
 her fortune. 
 
 She might have been humble, ferious, devout, a lo- 
 ver of good books, an admirer of prayer and retire- 
 ment, careful of her tim^e, diligent in good works, full 
 of charity and the iove of God, but that the imprudent 
 ufe of her eftate forced all the contrary tempers upon 
 her. 
 
 And it was no wonder, that fhe fhould turn her 
 time, her mind, her health and ftrength to the fame 
 ufes that fiie turned her fortune. It is owing to her 
 being wrong in fo great an article of life, tliat you can 
 
 fee 
 
90 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 fee nothing wife, or reafonable, or pious in any othet 
 part of it. 
 
 Now though the irregular trifling fpirit of this cha- 
 racter belongs, I hope, but to few people, yet many 
 may here learn fome inftru6lion from it, and perhaps 
 fee fomething of their own fpirit in it. 
 
 For as Flavia feems to be undone by the unreafonable 
 ufe of her fortune, fo the lownefs of moft people's vir- 
 tue, the imperfections of their piety, and the difor- 
 ders of their paiTions, is generally owing to their im- 
 prudent ufe and enjo^-ment of lawful and innocent 
 things. 
 
 More people are kept from a true fenfe and ftate of 
 Religion by a regular kind of fenfuality and indulgence, 
 than by grofs drunkennefs. More men hve regardlefs 
 of the great duties of piety, through too great a concern 
 for worldly goods, than through direct injuftice. 
 
 This man would perhaps be devout, if he was not fo 
 great a Virtuofo. Another is deaf to all the motives to 
 piety, by indulging an idle, ilothful temper. 
 
 Could you cure This man of his great curiofity and 
 inquifitive temper, or That of his falfe fatisfa£tion and 
 thirlt after learning, you need do no more to make them 
 both become men of great piety. 
 
 If This woman would make fewer vifits, or That not 
 be always talking, they would neither of tliem find it 
 half fo hard to be affected with religion. 
 
 For all thefe things are only little, when they are com- 
 pared to great fins ; and though they are little in that 
 refpejf}:, yet they are great, as they are impediments, and 
 hindrances of ^ pious fpirit. 
 
 For as confideration is the only eye of the foul, as the 
 truths of religion can be feen by nothing elfe, fo what- 
 ever raifes a levity of mind, a trifling fpirit, renders the 
 foul incapable of feeing, apprehending, and relifhing the 
 do£trines of piety. 
 
 Would we therefore make a real progrefs in religion, 
 we mufl not only abhor grofs and notorious fins, but we 
 muft regulate the innocent and lawful parts of our be- 
 haviour, and put the moft common and allowed acStions 
 of life under the rules of difcretion and piety. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 91 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 How the ivlfe and pious ufe of an ejlate naturally carrleth 
 us to great perfeEl'ion in all the virtues of the Cbri/lian 
 life; reprefentedinthecharaclerofWvc2in<\2i. 
 
 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 govern- 
 ment of ourfeives. 
 
 A man of bufniefs, 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 regularity into other parts of his life. 
 
 If any one is fo wife to think his time too pernicious 
 to be difpofed of by chance, and left to be devoured 
 by any thing that happens in his way. If he lays him- 
 felf under a neceffity of obferving how every day goes 
 through his hands, and obliges himfelf to a certain or- 
 der of time in his bufinefs, his retirements, and devotions, 
 it is hardly to be imagined, how foon fuch a conduct 
 would reform, improve, and perfect the whole courfe 
 of his life. 
 
 He that once knows the value, and reaps the advan- 
 tage of a well-ordered time, will not long be a itranger 
 to the value of any thing elfe that is of any real concern 
 to him. 
 
 A rule that relates even to the fmalleft part of our life, 
 is of great benefit to us, merely as it is a rule. 
 
 For, as the proverb faith, He that has begun well, has 
 half done : So he that has begun to live by rule, has gone 
 a great way towards the perfe6tion of his own life. 
 
 By rule, mud here be conftantly underltood, a reli- 
 gious rule, obferved upon a principle of duty to God. ^ 
 
 For if a man fhould oblige himfelf to be moderate in 
 his meals, only in regard to his flomach, or abftain from 
 drinking, ojaly to avoid the head-ach j or be moderate in 
 
 his 
 
92 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 his fleep, through fear of a lethargy, he might be exa£i 
 
 in thefe rules, without being at ail the better man for 
 
 them. 
 
 But when he is moderate and regular in any of thefe 
 things, out of a fenfe of Chrillian Ibbriety, and felf-de- 
 nia], that he may offer unto God a more reafonable and 
 holy life, then it is that the fmalleft rule of this kind, is 
 naturally the beginning of great piety. 
 
 For the fmallell rule in thefe matter is of great bene- 
 fit, as it teaches us fome part of the government of our- 
 felves, as it keeps up a tendernefs of mind, as it prefents 
 God often to our thoughts, and brings a fenfe of religion 
 into the ordinary actions of our common life. 
 
 If a man, whenever he was in company, where any- 
 one fwore, talked lewdly, or fpoke evil of his neighbour, 
 ihould make it a rule to himfelf, either gently to reprove 
 him, or if that was not proper, then to leave the com- 
 pany as decently as he could ; he would find, that this 
 little rule, like a little leaven hid in a great quantity of 
 meal, would fpread and extend itfelf through the whole 
 form of his life. 
 
 If another fliould oblige himfelf to abftain on the 
 Lord's-day from mairy innocent and lawful things, as 
 travelling, vifiting, common converfation, and difcourf- 
 ing upon worldly matters, as trade, news, and the like; 
 if he fhould devote the day, befides the public worihip, 
 to greater retirement, reading, devotion, inftrudlion, 
 and works of Charity : Though it may feem but a fmall 
 thing, or a needlefs nicety, to require a man to abflain 
 from fuch things, as may be done without fm, yet who- 
 ever would try the benefit of fo Uttle a rule, would per- 
 haps thereby find fuch a change made in his fpirit, and 
 fuch a tafte of piety raifed in his mind, as he was an en- 
 tire ftranger to before. 
 
 It would be eafy to Ihew in many other inftances, how 
 little and fmall matters are the firft fteps, and natural be- 
 ginnings of great perfedion. 
 
 But the two things, which of all others mod want to 
 be under a {lri£l rule?, and which are the greateil bleflings 
 both to ourfelves and others, when they are righdy ufed* 
 are our time, and our money. Thefe talents are conti- 
 iiual means and opportunities of doing good. 
 
 He 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 93 
 
 He that is ploufly ftricl, and exac^ in the wife manage- 
 ment of either of thefe, cannot be long ignorant of the 
 right ufe of the other. And he that is happy in the re- 
 hgious care and difpofal of them botli, is already afcend- 
 ed feveral fteps upon the ladder of Chriftian perfeflion. 
 Miranda, (the filter of Flavia) is a fober resfonable 
 Chriftian ; as foon as (lie was millrefs of her time and 
 fortune, it was her firft thought, how (lie might belt ful- 
 fil every thing that God required of her in the ufe of them, 
 and how fhe might make the bell and happieft uie of 
 this fhort life. She depends upon the truth of what our 
 blefled Lord hath faid, that there is hut one thing needful ^ 
 and therefore makes her whole life but one continual la- 
 bour 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 called the fine hdy, to the true Chriftian ; Mi- 
 randa thinks too well to be taken with the found of fuch 
 filly words ; fne has renounced the world, to follow 
 Chrift in the exercifeof humility, charity, devotion, ab- 
 ftinence, and heavenly afFeclions ; and that is Miranda^S 
 fine breeding. 
 
 WhiKl fhe was under her mother, flie was forced to be 
 genteel, to live in ceremony, to lit up late at nights, to 
 be in the folly of every fafhicn, and always vifitmg on 
 Sundays. To go patched, and loaded with a burden 
 of finery to the holy Sacrament ; to be in every pohte 
 converfation, to hear prophanenefs at the play-houfe, 
 and wanton fongs and love intrigues at the opera, to 
 dance at public places, that fops and rakes might admire 
 the nnenefs of her fhape, and the beauty ct her mo- 
 tions. The remembrance of this way of life, makes 
 her exceedingly careful to atone for it, by a contrary 
 behaviour. 
 
 Miranda does not divide her duty between God, her 
 neighbour, and herfelf, but {*ae confiders all as due to 
 God, and fo does every thing in his name, and for his 
 fake. This makes her confider her fortune as the gift of 
 God, that is to be ufed as every thing is, that belongs to 
 God, for the wife and reafonable ends of a chriftian and 
 holy life. Her fortune therefore is divided betwixt her- 
 feif, and feveral other poor people, and fhe has only her 
 
 part 
 
94? A SERIOUS GALL TO A 
 
 part of relief from it. She thinks it the fame folly to 
 indulge herfelf in needlefs, vain expences, as to give to 
 other people to fpend in the fame way. Therefore as 
 jQie will not give a poor man money to go to fee apup- 
 pet-fliow, neither will (he allow herfelf any to fpend in 
 the fame manner ; thinking it very proper to be as wife 
 herfelf, as fiie experts poor men ihould be. For it is a 
 folly and a crime in a poor man, fays Miranda, to wafte 
 what is given him, in fooliih trifles, whilft he wants meat, 
 drink, and clothes ? And is it lefs folly, or a lefs crime 
 i-n me to fpend that money in filly diverllons, 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 neceifities are a reafon, why he fhould not walle 
 any of his money idly, furely the neceflities of the poor, 
 the excellency of charity, which is received as done tO' 
 Ghrift himfelf, is a much greater reafon, why no one- 
 fliould ever walte 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 at a poor man, and look upon him as a wretch, when 
 he throws away that v/hich ihould buy his own bread ; 
 how much we appear in the fight of God, if he make a 
 wanton idle ufe of that which v/ould buy bread and 
 clothes 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 Mirandaj. 
 and thus flie ufes the gifts of God : flie is only one of a 
 certain number of poor people, that are relieved out of 
 her fortune, and ihe only differs from them in the blef- 
 fednefs of giving. 
 
 Excepting her vi£luals, ihe never fpent ten pounds a 
 year upon herfelf. If you was to fee her, you would- 
 wonder what poor body it was that was fo furprilingly 
 neat and clean. She has but one rule that ihe obferves 
 in her drefs,to be always clean and in the cheapeft things^ 
 Every thing about her refemblcs the purity of her foui, 
 and ilie is always clean without, becaufe fhe is always 
 ^ure within. 
 
 Every 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 95 
 
 Every morning fees her early at her prayers, fhe re- 
 joices in the beginning of every day, becaufe it begins 
 all her pious rules of holy living, and brings the frelh 
 pleafure of repeating them. She feems to be as a guardian 
 angel to thofe that dvv^ell about her, with her watchings 
 and prayers blefllng the place where flie dwells, and 
 making interceflion with God for thofe that are alleep. 
 
 Her devotions have had fome intervals, and God has 
 heard feveral of her private prayers, before the light is 
 fuftered to enter into her fillers room. Miranda does 
 not know what it is to have a dull half-day •, the returns 
 of her hours of prayer, and her religious exercifes, come 
 too often to let any confiderable part of time lie heavy 
 upon her hands. 
 
 When you fee her at work, you fee the fame wifdom 
 that governs ail her other actions, fhe is either doing 
 fomeEhing that is neceifary for herfelf or neceffary for 
 others, who v/ant to be afliiled. There is fcarce a poor 
 family in the neighbourhood, but wears fomething or 
 other that has had the labour of her hands. Her wife 
 and pious mind, neither wants the amufement, nor can 
 hear with the folly of idle and impertinent work. She 
 can admit of no fuch folly as this in the day, becaufe 
 (he is to anfwer for all her actions at night. When 
 there is no wifdom to be obferved in the employment of 
 her hands, when there is no ufeful or charitable work to 
 be done, Miranda will work no more. At her table 
 fhe lives Itriclly by this rule of holy fcripture, nvhether 
 ye eat or drink, or whatfoever ye do, do all to the glory of 
 God. This makes her begin and end every meal, as fhe 
 begins and ends every day, with a£i:s of devotion : She 
 eats and drinks only for the fake of living, and with fo 
 regular an abitinence, that every meal is an exercife 
 of felf-denial, and (he humbles her body, every time 
 that (he is forced to feed it. If Miranda was to run a 
 race for her life, fhe would fubmit to a diet that was 
 proper for it. But as the race which is fet before her> 
 is a race of holinefs, purity, and heavenly afteclion, 
 which fhe is to finifh in a corrupt, difordered body of 
 earthly palTions, 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 ill a pair of fcales, but fhe 
 
 weighs 
 
96 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 weighs it in a much better balance ; fo much as gives a 
 proper flrength to her body, and renders it able and wil- 
 ling to obey the foul, to join in pfalms and prayers, and 
 lift up eyes and hands towards heaven with greater rea- 
 dinefs, fo much is Miranda*s meal. So that Miranda 
 will never have her eyes fwell with fatnefs, or pant un- 
 der a heavy load of flefh, till ihe has changed her reli- 
 gion. 
 
 The holy fcriptures, efpecially of the New Tefla- 
 ment, are her daily ftudy •, thefe fhe reads with a watch- 
 ful attention, conftanrly calling an eye upon herfelf, 
 and trying herfelf, by every doiVrine that is there. 
 When ihe has the New Teilament in her hand, fhe fup- 
 pofes herfelf at the feet of our Saviour and his apoftles, 
 and makes every thing that ihe learns of them, fo many 
 laws of her life. She receives their facred words with as^ 
 much attention, and reverence, as if ihe faw their per- 
 fons, and knew that they were jad come from heaven, 
 on purpofe to teach her the way that leads to it. 
 
 She thinks, that the trying herfelf everyday by the 
 doctrines of Scripture, is the only polTible viray to be 
 ready for her trial at the laft day. She is fometimes 
 afraid that (he lays out too much m.ohey in books, be- 
 caufe (lie cannot forbear buying all practical books of 
 any note •, efpecially fuch as enter into the heart of re- 
 ligion, and defcribe the inward holinefs of the Chriftian 
 life. But of all human writings the lives of pious per- 
 fons, and eminent faints, are her greateil: delight. In 
 thefe fhe fearches as for hidden treafure, hoping to find 
 fome fecret of holy living, forne uncommon degree of 
 piety, which fhe may make her own. By this means- 
 Miranda has her head and heart fiored with all the 
 principles of wifdom and holinefs, \he is fo full of the 
 one main bunnefs of life, that fhe finds it difficult to con- 
 verfe upon any other fubjedt ; and if you are in her 
 company, when fhe thinks proper to talk, you muft be 
 made wifer and better, whether you will or no. 
 
 To relate her charity, would be to relate the hiflory 
 of every day for twenty years ; for fo long has all her 
 fortune been fpent that way. She has fet up near twenty 
 poor tradefmen that had failed in their buHnefs, and 
 laved as many from failing. She has educated feveral 
 
 poor 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLT LIFE. 97 
 
 poor children, that were picked up in the ftreets, and 
 put them in a way of an honeit employment. As foon 
 as any labourer is confined at home with licknefs, fne 
 fends him till he recovers, twice the value of his wages, 
 that he may have one part to give to his family, as ulua], 
 and the other to provide things convenient for his fick- 
 nefs. 
 
 If a family feems too large to be fupported by the la- 
 bour of thofe that can work in it, ihe pays their rent, 
 and gives them fom.ething yearly towards their cloath- 
 ing. By this means there are many poor families that 
 live in a comfortable manner, and are from year to year 
 blelling her in their prayers. 
 
 If there is any poor man or woman, that is more than 
 ordinarily wicked and reprobate, Miranda has her eye 
 iupon them, fhe watches their time of need and adverfity j 
 and if fhe can dlicover that they are in any great 
 ilreights or affliclion, fhe gives them fpeedy relief. Siie 
 has this care for this fort of people, becaufe flie once faved 
 a very profligate perfon from being carried to prifon, 
 who innnediately became a true penitent. 
 
 There is nothing in the chara^ler of Miranda more to 
 be admired, than this temper. For this tendernels of 
 affection tov/ards the molt abandoned fniners, is the 
 highefl inflance of a divine and godlike foul. 
 
 Miranda once palled by a houfe, where the man and 
 his wife were curling and fwearing at one another in a 
 molt dreadful manner, and three children crying about 
 them; this fight fo much affected her compaffionate 
 mind, that fne went the next day, and bought the three 
 children, that they might not be ruined by living with 
 fuch wicked parents , they nov/ live with Miranda, are 
 hleffed with her care and prayers, and ail the good works 
 which (lie can do for them. They hear her talk, they 
 fee her live, they join with her in pfalms and prayers. 
 The eldeit of them has already converted his parents 
 from their wicked life, and Ihews a turn of mind fo re- 
 markably pious, that Miranda intends him for holy or- 
 ders ; that being thus faved himfelf, he may be zealous 
 in the falvation of fouls, and do to other miferable ob- 
 jedts, as flie has done to him. 
 
 Miranda is a coiiftant relief to poor people in their 
 
 mif" 
 
98 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 misfortunes and accidents ; there are fometimes little 
 misfortunes that happen to them, which of themfelves 
 they could never be able to overcome. The death of a 
 cow, or a horfe, or fome little robbery, would keep them 
 in diftrefs all their lives. She does not lufFer them to 
 grieve under fuch accidents as thefe. She immediately 
 gives them the full value of their lofs, and makes ufe of 
 it as a means of raifing their minds towards God. 
 
 She has a great tendernefs for old people that are grown 
 pad their labour. The parifh allowance to fuch people, 
 is very feldom a comfortable maintenance. For this 
 reafon, they are the conl^ant obje£ls of her care ; flie 
 adds fo much to their allowance, as fom-ewhat exceeds 
 the wages they got when they were young. This fhe 
 does to comfort the infirmities of their age, that being 
 free from trouble and diftrefs they may ferve God in 
 peace and tranquillity of mind. She has generally a large 
 number of this kind, who by her charities and exhorta- 
 tions 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 fick, 
 or full of fores, that want eyes or limbs. She hears 
 their complaints with tendernefs, gives them fome proof 
 of her kindnefs, and never rejects them with hard, or 
 reproachful language, for fear of adding affli(Stion to her 
 fellow-creatures. 
 
 If a poor traveller tells her, that he has neither 
 ftrength, nor food, nor money left, fhe never bids him 
 go to the place from whence he came, or tells him, that 
 Ihe cannot relieve him., becaufe he may be a cheat, or 
 llie does not know him ; but flie relieves him for that 
 reafon, becaufe he is a ftranger, and unknov/n to her. 
 For it is the moft noble part of charity, to be kind and 
 tender to thofe whom we never faw before, and per- 
 haps never may fee again in this life. / ivaj a Jlranger 
 and ye took me in, faith our blefibd Saviour ; but viho can 
 perform this duty, that will not relieve perfons that are 
 unknown to him ? 
 
 Miranda confiders, that Lazarus was a commxn beg- 
 gar, that he was the care of Angels, and carried into 
 Abraham's bofom. She confiders, that our blefied^Sa- 
 
 viour 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 99 
 
 viour, and his apoftles, were kind to beggars ; that they 
 fpoke comfortably to them, healed their difeafes, and 
 reftored eyes and limbs to the lame and blind. That 
 Peter faid to the beggar that wanted an alms from him, 
 .Silver and geld have I none ^ but fucb as I have give I thee; 
 in the name of J ejus Chrijl of Nazarethy rife up and nvalky 
 Miranda, therefore, never treats beggars with difregard 
 and averfion, but fhe imitates the kindnefs of our Sa- 
 viour and his apoftles towards them ; and though fhe 
 cannot, like them, work m.iracles for their relief, yet 
 jQie relieves them with that power that fhe hath ; and 
 may fay with the Apoftle, Such as Ihave give I thee, in 
 .the name of Jefus Chrif. 
 
 It may be, fays Miranda, that I may often give to 
 thofe that do not deferve it, or that will make an ill ufe 
 of my alms. But what then ? Is not this the very me- 
 thod of divine goodnefs ? Does not God make his fun to 
 rife on the evily and on the good ? Is not this the very 
 'goodnefs that is recommended to us in fcripture, that by 
 imitating of it, we may be children of our Father which 
 is in heaven, luho fendeth rain on the juj}, and on the un* 
 jujl ? And fhall I withhold a little money or food, from 
 my fellow creature, for fear he fliould not be good e- 
 nough to receive it of me ? Do I beg of God to deal 
 with me, not according to my merit, but according to 
 his own great goodnefs ; and (liall I be fo abfurd, as to 
 with-hold my charity from a poor brother, becaufe he 
 may perhaps not deferve it ? Shall I ufe a meafure to- 
 wards him, which I pray God never to ufe towards me! 
 
 Befides, where has the fcripture made merit the rule 
 or meafure of charity ? On the contrary, the Scripture 
 faith, If thy enemy hunger^ feed him ; if he thirf, give him 
 drink. 
 
 Now this plainly teaches us, that the merits of perfons 
 is to be no rule of our charity, but that v/e are to do a6ts 
 of kindnefs to thofe that leait of all deferve it. For if I 
 am to love and to do good to my worft enemies -, if I 
 am to be charitable to them, notwithftanding all their 
 fpite and malice, furely merit is no meafure of charity. 
 If I am not to withhold my charity from fuch bad peo- 
 ple, and who are at the fame ume enemies, furely I am 
 
 not 
 
100 A SEUIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 not to deny alms to poor beggars, whom I neither know 
 to be bad people, nor any way my enemies. 
 
 You will perhaps fay,, that by this means I encourage 
 people to be beggars. But the fame thoughtlefs ob- 
 jection may be made againft all kinds of charities, for 
 they may encourage people to depend upon them. The 
 fame may be faid againil forgiving our enemies, for it 
 may encourage people to do us hurt. The fame may be 
 faid even againft the goodnefs of God, that by pouring 
 his bleihng on the evil and on the good, on the juft, and 
 on the unjult, evil and unjuft men are encouraged in 
 their wicked ways. The fame may be faid againft 
 cloathing the naked, or giving medicines to the fick, 
 for that may encourage people to negled: themfelves, 
 and be carelefs of their health. But when the love of 
 God dwelleth in you ; when it has enlarged your heart, 
 and filled you with bowels of mercy and compalhon, 
 you will make no more fuch objeciions as thefe. 
 
 When you are at any time turning away the poor, the 
 old, the fick and helplefs traveller, the lame or the blind, 
 aik yourfeif this queftion ; Do I fmcerely wifh thefe 
 poor creatures may be as happy as Lazarus, that was 
 carried by angels into Abraham's bofom ? Do I fmcerely 
 defire that God would make them fellow-heirs with me 
 in eternal glory ? Now if you fearch into your foul, you 
 will find that there is none of thefe motions there, that 
 you are wiihing nothing of this. For it is impoilible for 
 any one heartily to wiih a poor creature fo great a hap- 
 pinefs, and yet not have a heart to give him a fmall alms. 
 For this reafon, fiiys Miranda, as far as I can, I give to 
 all, becaufe I pray to God to forgive all ; and I cannot 
 refufe an alms to thofe, whom I pray God to blefs, 
 whom I wifli to be partakers of eternal glory ; but am 
 glad to fhew fome degree of love to fuch, as, I hope, 
 will be the cbjecls of the infinite love of God. And if, as 
 cur Saviour has aifured us, /'/ he more blejfed to give than 
 to receive y we ought to look upon thofe tliat aflc our alms, 
 as fo many friends and benefa6lors, that come to do us 
 a greater good than they can receive, that come to exalt 
 our virtue, to be witnelTes of our charity', to be monu- 
 ments of our love, to be our advocates with God, to be 
 to U3 in Chrilt's ftead, to appear for us at the day of 
 
 judgment 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 101 
 
 Judgment, and to help us to a bleffednefs greater than 
 our alms can beftow ou them. 
 
 This is the fpirit, and this is the life of the devout 
 Miranda ; and if fhe lives ten years longer, fhe will have 
 fpent iixty hundred pounds in charity, for that which 
 file allows herfelf, may fairly be reckoned among ft her 
 alms. 
 
 A¥hen fhe dies (he muft fhine amongft Apoftles, and 
 Saints, and Martyrs, ihe mull fS:and amongil tlie firit 
 fervants of God, and be glorious amonglt thofe that 
 have fought the good fight, and finiflied their courfe with 
 
 joy- 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Containing fome reflections on the ///^ ^Miranda, andjhew-^ 
 ing hozu it r.iayy and ought to he imttat-ed by all her fex» 
 
 NOW this life of Miranda, which I heartily recom- 
 mend to the imiitation of her fex, however con- 
 trary it may feem to the way and fafnion of the world, 
 is yet fuitable to the true fpirit, and founded upon the 
 plaineft doctrines of Chriilianity. 
 
 To live as fhe does, is as truly fuitable to the gofpel 
 of Chrifc, as to be baptized or receive the facrament. 
 
 Her fpirit is that, which animated the faints of former 
 ages ; and it is becaufe they lived as fhe does, that we 
 now celebrate their memories, and praife God for their 
 examples. 
 
 There is nothing that is whimfical, trifling, or unrea- 
 fonable in her character ; but every thing there is de- 
 fcribed, in a right and proper inilance of a folid and real 
 piety. 
 
 It is as eafy to (hew, that it is Vv'liimfical to go \o 
 church, or to fay one's prayers, as that it is whimfical 
 to obferve any of thefe rules of life. For all Miranda's 
 rules of living unto God, of fpending her time and for- 
 tune, of eating, working, dreffing and converfing, are 
 as fubftantial nart^ of a reafcnable and holy life, as devo- 
 tion and praver. 
 
 E For 
 
102' A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 For there is nothing to be faid for the wifdom of fo- 
 briety, the v/ifdom of devotion, the wifdom of charity, 
 T)r the wifdom of humility, but what is as good an argu- 
 ment for the wile and reaionable ufe of apparel. 
 
 Neither can any thing be faid againft the folly of lux- 
 ury, the folly of fenfuality, the folly of extravagance, 
 the folly of prodigality, the folly of ambition, of idlenefs, 
 or indulgence, but what muft be faid againil 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 vanity only differs from 
 another, as one kind of intemperance differs from another. 
 If you fpend your fortune in the needlefs vain finery 
 rjf drefs, you cannot condemn prodigality, or extrava- 
 gance, or luxury, without condemning yourfelf. 
 
 If you fancy that it is your only folly, and that there- 
 fore there can be no great matter in it ; you are like thofe 
 that think they are only guilty of the folly of covetouf- 
 nefs, or the folly of ambition. Now though fome peo- 
 ple may live fo plaufible a life, as to appear chargeable 
 with no other fault, than that of covetoufnefs or ambi- 
 tion •, yet the cafe is not as it appears, for covetoufnefs 
 or ambition cannot fubfift in a heart that is in other 
 refpeQs rightly devoted to God. 
 
 In like manner, though fome people may fpend moil 
 that they have in needlefs expenfive ornaments of drefs, 
 and yet feem to be in every other refpe^l: truly pious, 
 yet it is certainly falfe •, for it is as impoffible for a mind 
 that is in a true ilate of religion, to be vain in the ufe of 
 clothes, as to be vain in the uie of alms, or devotions. 
 Now to convince you of this from your own reflections, 
 let us fuppofe that fome eminent faint, as for inftance, 
 that the holy Virgin Mary was fent into the world, to 
 be again in a Itate of trial for a few years, and that you 
 was going to her, to be edified by hei: great piety ; would 
 you exped: to find her dreffed out and adorned in fine 
 and expenfive clothes ? No : you would know in your 
 own mind, that it v/as as impollible, as to find her learn- 
 ing to dance. Do but add faint, or holy to any perfon, 
 either man or woman, and your own iTiind tells you im- 
 mediately, that fuch a chara<5ter cannot admit of the va- 
 nity 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. lOS 
 
 nity of fine apparel. A faint genteelly dreiTed, is as great 
 nonfenfe, as an apoftle in an embroidered fuit •, every 
 one's ov/n natural fenfe convinces him of the iiKonfiften- 
 cy of thefe things. 
 
 Now what is the reafon, that when you think of a 
 faint or eminent fervant of God, you cannot admit of the 
 vanity of apparel ? Is it not becaufe it is inconfiftent 
 with fuch a right (late of heart, fuch true and exalted 
 ■piety ? And is not this therefore a demonftration, that 
 •where fuch vanity is admitted, there a right flate of 
 heart, true and exalted piety muft needs be wanted ? For 
 as certainly as the holy Virgin Mary could not indulge 
 herfelf, or conform to the vanity of the world in drefs 
 and figure ; fo certain is it, that none can indulge them- 
 felves in this vanity, but thofe who want her piety of 
 heart ; and confequently it mud be owned, that all 
 needlefs and expenfive iinery of drefs, is the efle^l of a 
 'difordered heart, that is not governed by the true fpirit 
 <of religioii. 
 
 Covetoufnefs is not a crime, becaufe there is any harm 
 in gold or filver, but becaufe it fuppofes a fooiiili and un- 
 reafonable flate of mind, that is fallen from its true good, 
 and funk into fuch a poor and wretched latisfa6Lion. 
 
 In like manner, the expenfive finery of drefs, is not a 
 crime, becaufe there is any thing good or evil in clothes, 
 but becaufe the expenfive ornaments of cloathing fliews 
 a foolifli and unreafonable Hate of heart, that is fallen 
 from right notions of human nature, that abufes the end 
 of cloathing, and turns the neccfTities of life into fo 
 many indances of pride and folly. 
 
 All the world agree in condemning remarkable fops. 
 Now what is the reafon of it ? Is it becaufe there is any 
 thing finfui in their particular drefs, or aficcled man- 
 ners ? No : but it is becaufe all people knew, that it 
 {liews the flate of a man's mind, and that it is impcfhhle 
 for fo ridiculous an outfide to have any thing wife or 
 reafonable. or good within. And indeed to fupofe a fop 
 of great piety, is as m.uch nonfenfe, as to fiippofe a cow- 
 ard of great courage. So that all the world agree in 
 owning, that the ufe and manner of cloaths is a mark of 
 the ftate of a man's mind, and confequently thu it is a 
 thing highly elTentiai to religion. But then it fliouid 
 
 E 2 be 
 
^04> A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 be well ccnfidered, that as it is only the fot that is guil* 
 ty of intemperance, but every one that tranfgrefles the 
 right and religious meafures of eating 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 reafonable and religious ends of 
 cloathing. 
 
 As therefore every argument againfl fottifhnefs, is as 
 good an argument againft all kinds of intemperance -, fo 
 every argum.ent againft the vanity of fops, is as good an 
 argument againft all vanity and abufe of drefs. For they 
 are all of the fame kind, and only dilter, as one degree of 
 intemperance may differ from another. She that only 
 paints a little, may as juftly accufe another, becaufe fhe 
 paints a great deal ; as Cue that ufes but a common 
 finery of drefs, accufes another that is exceflive in her 
 finery. 
 
 For as in the matter of temperance, there is no rule 
 but the fobriety, that is according to the doctrines and 
 fpirit of our religion ; fo in the matter of apparel, there 
 is no rule to be obferved, but fuch a right ule of clothes, 
 as is ftrittly according to the doctrines and fpirit of our 
 religion. To pretend to make the way of the world our 
 meafure in thefe things, is as weak and abfurd, 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, vAio are to be 
 fo far from conforming to the falbions of this life, that 
 to have overcome the world, is made an effential mark of 
 Chriftianity. 
 
 This therefore is the way that you are to judge of the 
 crime of vain apparel : you are to confider it as an of- 
 fence againft the proper ufe of clothes, as covetoufnefs is 
 an offence againft the proper ufe of money ; you are to 
 confider it as an indulgence of proud and unreafonable 
 tempers, as an offence againft the humility and fobriety 
 of the Chriftian fpirit ; you are to confider it as an of- 
 fence againft all thcfe doctrines that require you to do 
 all to the glory of God, that require you to make a right 
 ufe of your talents ; you are to confider it as an offence 
 againft all thofe texts of Scripture, that command you 
 to love your neighbour as yourfcif, to feed the hungry, 
 
 to 
 
DSVOUT AND HOLY LIF^. 105 
 
 to clothe the naked, and do all works of charity that you 
 are able : fo that you muit not deceive yourfelf with 
 faying, Where can be the harm of clothes? for the covet- 
 ous man might as well fay, Where can be the harm of 
 gold or filver ? but you muft confider, that it is a great 
 deal of harm to want that wife, and reafonable, and hum- 
 ble Itate of heart, which is according to the fpirit of re- 
 ligion, and which no one can have in the manner that he 
 ought to have it, who indulges himfeif either in the va- 
 nity of drefs, or the defire of riches. 
 
 There is therefore nothing right in the ufe of clothes, 
 or in the ufe of any thing elfe in the world, but the piain- 
 nefs and fimplicity of the gofpel. Every other ufe of 
 things (however polite and fafiiionable in the world) 
 diftra6t5 and difordersthe heart, and isinconfiilent with 
 that inward- Hate of piety, that purity of hearty that wif- 
 dom of mind, and regularity of affeition, which Chri- 
 llianity requireth. 
 
 If you would be a good chridian, there is hut one 
 way, you muft live wholly unto God, you niuit live ac- 
 cording to the wifdom that comes from God ; you mufb 
 a<St according to the riglit judgments of the nature and 
 value of things •, you muil live in the exercife of holy and 
 heavenly affections, and ufe all the gifts of God to his 
 praife and glory. 
 
 Some perfons perhaps, who admire the purity and 
 perfection of this life of Miranda, may fay. How can it 
 be propofed as a comm.on example ? Hcv/ can we v/ho 
 are married, or we who are under the direction of our 
 parents, imitate fuch a life ^ 
 
 It is anfwered, juit as you may imitate the life of our 
 blelTed Saviour and his apollles. The circumftances of 
 our Saviour's life, and the itate and conditon of his apo- 
 illes, was more ditterent Iromyours than that of Miran- 
 da's is ; and yet their lite, the purity and perfedtion of 
 their behaviour, is the comm.on example that is propofed 
 to all Chriitians. 
 
 It is their fpirit therefore, their piety, their love of 
 God, that you are to imitate, and not the particular form 
 of tlicir life. 
 
 A£t under God as they did, dire£t yonr common ac- 
 tions to that end which they did, glorify your proper 
 JL 3 iUtQ 
 
106 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ftate with fucli love of God, fuch charity to your neigli- 
 bour, fach humility and felf-denial, as they did ; and 
 then, though you are only teaching your own children, 
 and St Paul is converting whole nations, yet you are Fol- 
 lowing his fleps, and acting after his example. 
 
 Do not think therefore^ that you cannot or need not 
 be like Miranda, becaufe you are not in her ftate of life j 
 for as the fame fpirit and temper v/ould have made Mi- 
 randa a faint, though fhe liad been forced to labour for 
 a maintenance, fo if you will but afpire after her fpirit 
 and temper, evey form and condition of life v/iil furnilli 
 you with fufhcient means of employing it. 
 
 Miranda is v/hat (lie is, becaufe fiie does every thing 
 in the name, and with regard to her duty to God 5 and 
 when you do the fame, you will be exactly like her, 
 though you are never fo different from her in the out- 
 ward itate of your life. 
 
 You are married, you hy ; therefore you have not 
 your time and fortune in your power as {he has. 
 
 It is very true -, and therefore you cannot fpend fo 
 much time, nor io much money, in the manner that (he 
 ^oes. 
 
 But now Miranda's perfe6lIon does not confifl In this, 
 that fhe fpends (o much time, or fo much money in fuch 
 a manner, but that flie is careful to make the befl: ufe of 
 all that time, and all that fortune, which God has put 
 into her hands. Do you therefore make the befl ufe of 
 all that time and m.oney which is in your difpofal, and 
 then you are like Miranda. 
 
 If (he has two hundred pounds a year, and you have 
 only two mites^ have you not the more reafon to be ex- 
 ceeding exa£i: in the wifeft ufe of it ? If ihe has a deal 
 of time, and you have but a little, ought you not to be 
 the more v/utchfui and clrcumfpect, lelt that little ihould 
 be led ?^ 
 
 You fay if you was to imitate the cleanly plainnefs 
 and cheapnefs of her drefs, you ihould offend your huf- 
 bands. 
 
 Firft, Be very fare that this is true, before you make 
 it an excufe. 
 
 Secondly, If your hufbands do really require you to 
 patch your faces, to expofe your breails naked, and to be 
 
 fine 
 
DEVOtrr AND HOLY LIFE. 107 
 
 line and expenfive in all your apparel, then, take thefe 
 two refolutions: 
 
 Firft, to forbear from all this, as foon as your hufbands 
 will permit you. 
 
 Secondly, To ufe your utmoft endeavours to recom- 
 mend yourfelves to their aiTe£lions by fuch folid virtues, 
 as may correal the vanity of their minds, and teach them 
 to love you for fuch qualities, as will make you amiable 
 in the fight of God and his holy angels. 
 
 As to this doftrine concerning the plainnefs and mo~ 
 deity of drefs, it may perhaps be thought by fome to be 
 fuiBciently confuted by afking, Whether all perfons are 
 to be cloathed in the fame manner ? 
 
 Thefe que (lions are generally put by thofe, who had 
 rather perplex the plained truths, than be obliged to 
 follow them. 
 
 Let it be fuppofed, that 1 had recommended an uni- 
 verfal plainnefs of diet. Is it not a thing fufhciently rea- 
 fonable to be univerfally recommended .^ But would it 
 thence follow, that the nobleman and the labourer were 
 to live upon the fame food .'' 
 
 Suppofe I had prefled an univerfal temperance, does 
 not religion enough juftify fuch a do6lrine ? But would 
 it therefore follow, that ail people were to drink the fame 
 liquors, and in the fame quantity ? 
 
 In like manner, though plainnefs and fobriety of drefs 
 is recommended to all, yet it does by no m.eans follow, 
 that all are to be cloathed in the fame manner. 
 
 Now what is the particular rule with regard to tem- 
 perance ? How (hall particular perfons, that ufe diiterent 
 liquors, and in diiterent quantises, preferve their tem- 
 pera,nce ? 
 
 Is not this the rule .'' Are they not to guard againit 
 indulgence, to make their ufe of liquors a matter of con- 
 fcience, and allow of no refrefhments, but fuch as are 
 conliftent with the ltri£le(L rules of Chriftan fobriety .'' 
 
 Now tiansfer this rule to the matter of apparel, and 
 all queflions about it are anfwered. 
 
 Let everyone but guard againll the vanity of drefs, 
 
 let them but make their ufe of clothes a matter of ccn- 
 
 fcience, let them but deGre to make the bell ufe of their 
 
 money, and then every one has a rule that is faificienL 
 
 E ^ to 
 
108 A SERI OUS CALL TO A 
 
 to dire6l them an every (late of life. This rule will no 
 more let the great be vain in their drefs, than intemperate 
 an their liquors ; and yet will leave it as lawful to have 
 fome difference in their drink. 
 
 But now will you fay, that you may ufe the fined 
 richeft wines, when and as you pleafc, that you maybe 
 as expeniive in them as you have a mind, becaufe differ- 
 ent liquors are allowed ? If not, how can it be faid, that 
 you may ufe clothes as you pleafe, and wear the richeft 
 things you can get, becaufe the bare difference of clothes 
 as lawful ? 
 
 For as the lawfulnef? of different liquors leaves no 
 Toom, nor any excufe, for the fmalleft degree of intem- 
 perance in drinking j fo the lawfulnefs of different ap- 
 parel leaves no room, nor any excufe, for the fmalleff de- 
 ^-rees of vanity, in drefs. 
 
 To afic what is vanity in drefs, is no more a puzzling 
 qucft'ion, than to afK:, what is intemperance in drinking, 
 And though religion dees not here ftate the particular 
 meafure for all individuals, yet it gives fuch general rules 
 as are a fufhcient direction in every (tate of life. 
 
 He that lets religion teach him, that the end of drink- 
 ing is only fo far to refrefli our fpirits, as to keep us in 
 good health, and make foul and body fitter for all the of- 
 fices of a holy and pious life, and thnt he is to defire to 
 glorify God by a right ufe of this liberty, will always 
 ii:now what intemperance is, in his particular ftate. 
 
 So he that lets religion teach him, that the end of 
 cloathing is only to hide our iliame and nakednefs, and to 
 fecure cur bodies from the injuries of weather, and that 
 he is to defire to glorify God by a fober and wife ufe of 
 this neceffity, v.'ili alwa3'sknow what vanity of drefs is, 
 an his particular ilate. 
 
 And he that thinks it a needlefs nicety, to talk of the 
 religious ufe of apparel, has as m.uch realoa 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 re- 
 ligion the £in€t meafure of our allowance in both c^jfes. 
 /ind there is nothing in religion to excite a man to this 
 
 pious 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 109 
 
 pious exaftnefs in one cafe, but what is as good a motive 
 to the fame exaftnefs in the other. 
 
 Farther, as all things that are lawful, are not therefore 
 expedient; fo there are fome things lawful in the uic or 
 liquors and apparel, which by abitaining from them for 
 pious ends, may be made means of great perfection. 
 
 Thus for inftance, if a man fliould deny himfelf fucli 
 life of liquors as is lawful ; if he fliouid refrain from fuch 
 expence in his drink as might be allowed without hn ; if 
 he iliould do this, not only for the fake of a more pious 
 felf-denial, but that he m'ight be able to relieve and re- 
 frefli the helplefs, poor, and Tick. 
 
 If another fliould abftain from the ufe of that which is 
 lawful in drefs ; if he fliould be more frugal and mean 
 in his habit, than the neceffities of religion abfolutely re- 
 quire ; if he fliould do this not only as a means of a bet- 
 ter humility, but that he may be mere able to clothe o- 
 ther people -, thefe perfons might be faid to do^ that 
 which was highly fuitable to the true fpirit, though not 
 abfolutely required by the letter of the law of Chriil. ^ 
 
 For if thofe who give a cup of cold water to a difciple 
 of Chrift, fhall not lofe their reward, how dear mull they 
 be to Chrift, v/ho often give themfelves water, that they 
 may be able to give wine to the Tick and languifhing 
 members of Chriit's body ! 
 
 But to return. All that has been here faid to married 
 women, may ferve for the fiime inltrudion to fuch as are 
 Itill under the diredfion of their parents. 
 
 Now though the obedience which is due to parents 
 does not oblige them to carry their virtues any higher 
 than their parents require them ; yet their obedience re- 
 quires them to fubmit to their direction in all things not 
 contrary to the laws of God. 
 
 If therefore, your parents require you to live inore in 
 the fafliion and converfation of the world, or to be m.ore 
 expenfive in your drefs and perfon, or to difpofe of your 
 time otherwife than fuits v/ith your defires after greater 
 perfection, you muft fubmit, and bear it as your crofs, 
 till you are at liberty to follow the higher couniels of 
 Chrilt, and have it in your power to chufe thebeic ways 
 of railing your virtue to its greatefc height 
 
 Now although whilft you are in this itate, you may be 
 E 5 obliged 
 
no A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 obliged to forego feme 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 this ftate, where obedience is fo great a vir- 
 tue, you comply in all things lawful, out of a pious, ten- 
 der lenfe of duty •, then thofe things which you thus per- 
 form, are, inilead of being hindrances of your virtue, 
 turned into means of improving it. 
 
 What you lofe by being reflrained from fuch things, as 
 you would chufe to obferve you gain by that excellent 
 virtue of obedience, in humbly complying againll your 
 temper. 
 
 Now what is here granted, is only in things lawful ; 
 and therefore the diverfion of our Eiiglifh ftage is here 
 excepted; being elfev/liere proved, as I think, to be ai>- 
 fclutely unlawful. 
 
 Thus much to fhew, how perfons under the direc- 
 tion of others, may imitate the wife and pious life of 
 Miranda. 
 
 But as for thofe who are altogether in their own hands, 
 if the liberty of their ftates makes them covet the belt 
 gifts, if it carries them to chufe the mod excellent ways, 
 if they, having all in their own power, fhould turn 
 the whole form of their life into a regular exercife of 
 the highefl virtues, happy are they who have fo learned 
 Chriil I 
 
 All perfons cannot receive this faying. They that 
 ure ready to receive it, let them receive it, and blefs that 
 fpirit of God which has put fuch good motions into their 
 hearts. 
 
 God maybe ferved and glorified in every ftate of life. 
 But as there are fome Hates of life more defirable than 
 others, that more purify our natures, that more improve 
 our virtues, and dedicate us unto God in a higher man- 
 ner ; fo thofe, wha 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 has 
 been two orders or ranks of people amongit good Chnf- 
 tians. 
 
 The one that feared and ferved God in the common 
 offices of a fecular worldly life. 
 
 The 
 
DEVOUr AND HOLY LIFE. Ill 
 
 The other renouncing the common bufinefs and com- 
 mon enjoyments of life, as riches, marriage, honours, 
 and pleafures, devoted themfelves to voluntary poverty, 
 virginity, devotion, and retirement, that by this means 
 they might live wholly unto God in the daily exercife of 
 a divine and heavenly life. 
 
 This teilimony I have from the famous ecclefiaftical 
 hiftorian, Eufebius, who lived at the time of the firft ge- 
 neral council, when the faith of our Nicene Creed was 
 efbablifhed, when the Church was in its greateft glory 
 and purity, when its Biihops were fo many holy fathers 
 and eminent faints. 
 
 " Therefore, faith he, there hath been inftituted in 
 the Church of Chrift, two ways, or manners of living. 
 The one raifed above the ordinary ftate of nature, and 
 common ways of living, rejects wedlock, polTeffions, 
 and worldly goods, and being wholly feparate and re- 
 moved from the ordinary converfation of com.mon life, 
 is appropriated and devoted folely to the wcrlhip and 
 fervice 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 having their bodies only upon 
 earth, are in their minds and contemplations dwelling in 
 heaven. From whence, like many heavenly inhabitants, 
 they look down upon human Hfe, making intercefiions 
 and oblations to Almiighty God for the whole race of 
 mankind. And this not with the blood of beafts, or the 
 fat, or fmoke, and burning of bodies, but with the high- 
 elt exercifes of true piety, with cleanfed and purified 
 hearts, and with an whole form of life ftridlly devoted 
 to virtue. Thefe are their facrifices, which they continu- 
 ally offering unto Gotl, implore his mercy and favour for 
 themfelves, and their fellow-creatures. 
 
 " Chriftianity receives this as the perfect manner of 
 life. 
 
 " The other is of a lower form, and fuiting itfelf more 
 to the condition of human nature, admits of chafte wed- 
 lock, and care of children and family, of trade and bufi- 
 nefs, and goes through all the employments of liie under 
 3 fenfe of piety, and fear of God. 
 
 *f Now they who have chofen this manner of life, have 
 £ 6 tiieir 
 
11^ A SEB.IOUS CALL TO A 
 
 their fet times for retirement and fpiritual exercifes, and 
 particular da^^s are fet apart for their hearing and learn- 
 ing the word of God. And this order of people are 
 confidered, as in the fecond itate of piety." Eujuh. Dem* 
 Evan. L I.e. 8. 
 
 Thus this learned hiftorian. 
 
 If therefore perfons of either fex, moved with the life 
 of Miranda, and defirous of perfeftion, {hould unite 
 tliemfelves into little focieties, profeffing voluntary po- 
 verty, virginity, retirement and devotion, living upon 
 bare necelTaries, that fome might be relieved by their 
 charities, and all be bleiled v/ith their prayers, and bene- 
 fited by their example : or if for want of this, they fhould 
 pra£life the fame manner of life, in as high a degree as 
 they could by themfelves ; fuch perfons would bo fo far 
 from being chargeable with any fuperftition, or blind de- 
 votion, that they might be juitly faid to reftore that pi- 
 ety, which was the boafl and glory of the Church, when 
 its greateft faints were alive. 
 
 Now as this learned hiilorian obferves, that it was an 
 exceeding great degree of heavenly love, that carried 
 thefe perfons fo much above the common ways of life, 
 to fuch an eminent ftate of holinefs ; fo it is not to be 
 v/ondered at, that the religion of Jefus Chrift flioukl 
 iill the hearts of many Chriiiians with 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 
 io triumphs over death, that allures us of fuch manfioiis 
 of blifs, where we Ihall fo foon be as the Angels of God 
 in heaven; v/hat wonder is it, if fuch a religion, fuch 
 truths and expectations, fhould in fome holy ^ouls, de- 
 flroy all earthly, defires, and make the ardent love of 
 heavenly things, be the one continual pailion of their 
 hearts .'* 
 
 If the religion of Chriftians is founded upon the in- 
 finite humiliation, the cruel mockings and fccurgings,' 
 the prodigious fufferings, the poor, perfecuted life, and 
 painful death of a crucified Son of God; what wonder 
 js it, if many humbie adorers of this profound myflery, 
 many affectionate lovers of a crucified Lord, fnould re- 
 nounce their riiare of worldly pleafures, aud give them- 
 felves 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 1 1 f? 
 
 felves up to a continual courfe of mortification, and felf- 
 denial : that thus fufFerlng with Chriit here, they may- 
 reign with him hereafter ? 
 
 If truth itlelf hath afiured us, that there is hut one thing 
 ;^^^^///, what wonder is ^t, that there iliould be fome a- 
 mongft Chriftians fo full of faith, as to believe this in 
 the higheft fenfe of the words, and to defire fuch a fe- 
 paration from the world, that there care and attention to 
 the one thing needful may not be interrupted ? 
 ' If our blelTed Lord hath faid, If thou ivilt he perfeB, 
 go and fell that thou hajly and give to the poovy and thou 
 jhalt have ireafure in heaven : and come and folloiv 7ne : 
 What wonder is it, that there flrouldbe amongil Chrif- 
 tians, fome fuch zealous followers of Chriil, fo intent 
 upon heavenly treafure, fo defirous of perfetlion, that 
 ihey fliould renounce the enjoyment of their eitates, 
 chufe a voluntary poverty, and relieve all the poor that 
 they are able ? 
 
 If the chofen veflel, St Paul, hath faid, He thai is un- 
 married carethfor the things that h'elong to the Lord^ ho%v 
 he may pleafe the Lord ; and that there is this d:jfere?ice aU 
 fo between a ivife and a virgin j the unmarried woman 
 ' carethfor the things of the Lord, that fJje may he holy both 
 in body andfpirit : What wonder is it, if the purity and 
 perfeftion of the virgin ilate, hath been the praife and 
 glory of the church in its firfl and purefh ages ? 
 
 That there hath always been fome fo defirous of 
 pleafmg God, fo zealous after every degree of purity 
 and perfe£lion, fo glad of every means of improving 
 their virtue, that they have renounced the comforts and 
 enjoyments of wedlock, to trim their lamps, to purify 
 their fouls, and wait upon God in a ftate of perpetual 
 virginity ? 
 
 And if now in thefe our days, we want examples of 
 thefe feveral degrees of perfection ; if neither clergy nor 
 laity are enough of this fpirit ; if we are fo far departed 
 from it, that a man feems, like St Paul at Athens, a fet- 
 ter forth of ftrange doctrines, when he recommends felf- 
 denial, renunciation of the world, regular devotion, re- 
 tirement, virginity, and voluntary poverty, 'tis becaufe 
 we are- fallen into an age, where the love not only of ma- 
 «7, but of moil, is waxed cold. 
 
 I have 
 
114? A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 I have made this little appeal to antiquity, and quoted 
 thefe few paiTages of Scripture, tofupport fome uncom- 
 mon practices in the life of Miranda; and to fhew, that 
 her higheil rules of holy living, her devotion, felf -denial, 
 renunciation of the world, her charity, virginity, and vo- 
 luntary poverty, are founded in the fublimelt counfels of 
 Chrift and his Apoftles, fuitable to the high expectations 
 of another life, proper inftances of a heavenly love, and 
 all followed by the greateit faints of the bell and pureft 
 ages of the church. 
 
 He that hath ears to heaVy let him hear. 
 
 CHAP. Z. 
 
 Shelving haw all orders and ranks of men and woman of all 
 ages, are obliged to devote themjelves unto God. 
 
 I HAVE in the foregoing chapters gone through the 
 feveral great inftances of Chriftian devotion, and 
 ihewn that all the parts of our common life, our employ- 
 ments, our talents and gifts of fortune, are all to be m.ade 
 holy and acceptable unto God, by a wife and religious 
 ufe of every thing, and by directing our a6lions and de- 
 figns to fuch ends as are fuitable to the honour and glory 
 of God. 
 
 I (hall now fhew, 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 
 cf Chriftian people. 
 
 Fulvius has had a learned education, and taken his 
 degrees in the TJniverfity, he came from thence, that he 
 might be free from any rules of life. He takes no em- 
 ployment upon him, nor enters into any bufmefs, be- 
 caufe he thinks that every employment or bufinefs, calls 
 people to the careful performance and difcharge of its 
 feveral duties. When he is grave, he will tell you that 
 he did not enter into holy orders, becaufe he looks upon 
 it to be a ftate, that requires great holinefs of life, and 
 that it does not fuit his temper to be fo good. He will 
 tell you that he never intends to marry, becaufe he 
 cannot oblige himfelf to that regularity of lite, and 
 
 ^ood 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 115 
 
 good behaviour, which he takes to be the duty of thofe 
 that are at the head of a family. He refufed to be God- 
 father to his nephew, becaufe he will have no trait of 
 any kind to anfwer for. 
 
 Fulvius thinks that he is confcientious in this conducl, 
 and is therefore content with the moil idle, impertinent 
 and carelefs life. 
 
 He has no religion, no devotion, no pretences to piety. 
 He lives by no rules, and thinks all is very well, becaufe 
 he is neither a prieft nor a father, nor a guardian, nor 
 has any employment or famiily to look after. 
 
 But Fulvius, you are a rational creature, and as fuch, 
 are as much obliged to live according to reafon and order 
 as a prieft is obliged to attend at the altar, or a guardian 
 to be faithful to his truft j if you live contrary to reafon, 
 you don't commit a fmall crime, you don't break a fmall 
 truft ; but you break the law of your nature, you rebel 
 againit God who gave you that nature, and put your- 
 feif amongft thofe whom the God of reafon and order 
 will punifh as apoftates and deferters. 
 
 Though you have no emplo^mient, yet as you are 
 baptized into the profefTion of Chrift's religion, you are 
 as much obliged to live according to the holinefs of the 
 Chriltian fpirit, and perform ail the promifes made at 
 your baptifm, as any man is obliged to be honeft and 
 faithful in his calling. If you abufe this great callingj 
 you are not falfe in a fmall matter, but you abufe the 
 precious blood of Chrift ; you crucify the Son of God 
 afrcih ; you negledl the higheft inftances of divine gcod- 
 nefs j you difgrace the church of God ; you blemifh the 
 body of Chriit ; you abufe the means of grace, and the 
 promifes of glory ; and it will be more tolerable for 2"yre 
 and Sidcn in the day of judgment than for you. 
 
 It is therefore great folly, for any one to think him- 
 felf at liberty to live as he pleafes, becaufe he is not in 
 fuch a ftate of life as fome others are : For if there is 
 any thing dreadful in the abufe of any truft ; if there 
 is any thing to be feared for the neglect of any calling, 
 there is nothing more to be feared than the v/rong ufe of 
 cur reafon, nor any thing m.ore to be dreaded, than the 
 iiegle£l of our Chriftian calling ; which is not to ferve 
 the little ufes of a ihort hfc, but to redeem fouls unto 
 ^ - - God, 
 
116 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 God, to fill heaven with faints, and finifh a kingdom of 
 eternal glory unto God. 
 
 No man therefore muft think himfelf excufed from 
 the exaclnefs of piety and morality, becaufehe has chofen 
 to be idle and independant in the world; for the neceOi- 
 ties of a reafonable and holy life, are not founded in the 
 feveral conditions and employments of this life, but in 
 the im.mutable nature of God, and the nature of man. A 
 mian is not to be reafonable and holy, becaufe he is a 
 pried, or a father of 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 accordingto reaion and order, there v/ould 
 be nothing difpleafrng to God in an idle prieft, or a re- 
 probate father. He therefore that abufes his reafon, is 
 like him that abufes the priefthoodj and he that neglects 
 the holinefs of the Chriitian life, is as the man that dif- 
 regards the moft important truft. 
 
 If a man was to chufe to put out his eyes, rather 
 than enjoy the light, and fee the works of God; if he 
 fhould voluntarily kill himfelf, by refufmg to eat and 
 drink, every one would own, that fuch a one was a re- 
 bel againft God, that juftly deferved his higheft indig- 
 nation. You would not fay, that this was only fmful in 
 a prieft, or a mafter of a family, but in every man as fuch. 
 
 Now wherein does the fmfulnefs of this behaviour 
 confift ? Does it not confift in this, that he abufes his 
 nature, and refufes to a61; that part for which God had 
 created him ? But if this be true, then all perfons that 
 abufe their reafon, that a6t a different part from that 
 for which God created them, are like this man, rebels 
 againft God, and on the fame account fubjecSl to his 
 wrath. 
 
 Let us fuppofe, that this man, inftead of putting out 
 his eyes, had only employed them in looking at ridicu- 
 lous things, or ftmt them up in a fleep ; that inftead of 
 Itarving himfelf to death, by not eating at all, he (hould 
 turn every meal into a feaft, and eat and drink like an 
 Epicure ; could he be faid to have lived more to the glory 
 of God ? could he any more be faid to a£l: the part for 
 which God had created him, than if he had put out his 
 eyes, and ftarved himfelf to death ? 
 
 l^ov/ 
 
DEVOUT AND KOLY LIFE. 117 
 
 Now do but fuppole a man ailing unreafonably ; do 
 but fuppofe him extinguifning his reafon, inftead of 
 putting out his eyes ; and living in a courfe of foliy and 
 impertinence, initead of ftarving himlelf 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 a6l that part for 
 which he was created, and puts himfelf into a ftate 
 that is contrary to the divine will. And furely this i'S 
 the guilt of every one that lives an unreafonable, unholy, 
 and foolifh life. 
 
 As therefore, no particular ftate, or private life, is an 
 excufe for the abufe of our bodies, or ielf-murder j fo 
 no particular Hate, or private life, is an excufe for the 
 abufe of our reafon, or the negle£l of the holinefsof the 
 Chriftian religion. For furely it is as much the will of 
 God, that we fliould make the bell ufe of our rational 
 faculties, that we fliouid conform to the purity and holi- 
 nefs of Chriftianity, as it is the will cf God, that we 
 Ihould ufe our eyes, and eat and drink for the preierva- 
 tion of our lives. 
 
 Till therefore a man can lliew, that he fmcerely en- 
 deavours to live according to the will of God, to be that 
 v/hich God requires him to be ; till he can (hew, that he 
 is driving to live according to the holinefs of the Chrif- 
 tian religion j whofoever he be, or wherefoever he be, 
 he has ail that to aniwer for, that they have, who re- 
 fufe to live, who abufe the greateft' trulls, and negle(!i^ 
 the highed calling in the world. 
 
 Every body acknovvledges, that all orders of men are 
 to be equally and exa6lly honefl; and faithful-, there is no 
 exception to be made in thefe duties, for any private or 
 particular ftate of life. Now if we would but attend to 
 the reafon and nature of things ; if v/e would but con- 
 fider the nature of God, and the nature of man, we 
 fhould find the fame neceffity for every other right ufe 
 of our reafon, for every grace, or religious temper of 
 the Chriftian life : we fnould find it as abfurd to fup- 
 pofe, that one man muft be exatl in piety, and another 
 need not, as to fuppofe that one man mull be exadl in 
 lionsfty^ but another need not. For Chriftian humility, 
 
 fobriety, 
 
118 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 fobriety, devotion, and piety, are as great and necefTary 
 
 parts of a reafonable life, as juftice and honefty . 
 
 And on the other hand, pride fenfuaUty and covetouf- 
 nefs, are as great diforders of the foul, are as high an 
 abufe of our reafon, and as contrary to God, as cheating 
 and difnonefty. 
 
 Theft and diihoneily feeni indeed, to vulgar eyes, to 
 be greater fins, becaafe they are fo hurtful to civil fo- 
 ciety, and are fo feverely punifhed by human laws. 
 
 But if we confider mankind in a higher view, as God's 
 order or fociety of rational beings, that are to glorify 
 him by the right ufe of their reafon, and by a6ting con- 
 formably to the order of their nature, we {hall find, 
 that every temper that is equally contrary to reafon and 
 order, that oppofes God's ends and defigns, and difor- 
 ders the beauty and glory of the rational world, is equally 
 fmful in man, and equally odious to God. This would 
 (hew us, that the fni of fenfuality is like the fin of dif- 
 honefty, and renders us as great obje^s of the divine^ 
 difpleafure. 
 
 Again, if we confider mankind in a farther view, as a 
 redeemed order of falleii fpirits, that are baptized into- 
 a fellov/fhip with the Son of God ; to be temples of the 
 Holy Gholl ; to live according to his holy infpi rations y 
 to offer to God the reafonable f:icrince of an humble, 
 pious, and thankful life j to purify themfelves from the 
 diforders of their fail ♦, to make a light ufe oT the means 
 of grace, in order to be fons of eternal glory, If we look at 
 mankind in this true light, then we (bail find that ail tem- 
 pers that are contrary to this holy fociety, that are abufea 
 of this infinite mercy ; all a£tions that make us unlike to 
 Chrilt, 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 and fenfuality, and other vices of the 
 like kind, do not hurt civil fociety, as cheating and dif- 
 honefty 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 
 ms no charge or employment of hfe, that therefore we 
 
 raajf 
 
DEVOUT AND KOLY LIFE. 119 
 
 iriny live more at large, indulge our appetites, and be 
 lefs careful of the duties of piety and holinefs j for it is 
 as good an excufe for cheating and diilioneily. Becaufe 
 he that abuies his reafon, that indulges himfeli in lud and 
 ienfuality, and neglects to a6t the wife and reafonable 
 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 dlfhonefty. 
 
 If therefore you rather chufe to be an idle Epicure, 
 than to be unfaithful; if you rather chufe to live in lull 
 and fenfuality, than to injure your neighbour in his 
 goods, you have made no better a provilion for the fa- 
 vour of God, than he that rather chufes to rob a houfe, 
 than to rob a church. 
 
 For the abuhng of our own nature, is as great a dif- 
 obedience againil God, as the injuring our neighbour j 
 and he that wants piety towards God, has done as much 
 to damn him.felf, as he that wants honefly towards men. 
 Every argument therefore, that proves it neceffary for 
 all m.en, m all itations of life, to be truly honeft, proves 
 it equally neceflary for all men, in all llations of life, to 
 be truly holy and pious, and do all things in fuch a man- 
 ner, 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 com- 
 mon courfe of their lives, in the ufe of every thing that 
 they enjoy, may be taken from our obligation to prayer. 
 
 It is granted, tiiat prayer is a duty that belongs to all 
 ilates and conditions of men ; now if we enquire into 
 the reafon of this, why no ftate of life is to be excufed 
 from prayer, we Ihall find it as good a reafon, why every 
 ftate of life is to be made a ftate of piety and holinefs in 
 ail its parts. 
 
 For the reafon wliy 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 poilible ways. It is not becaufe the praiies of 
 words, or forms of thankfgiving, are more particularly 
 parts of piety, or more the worlliip of God than other 
 things j but it is becaufe they are polbbie ways of ex- 
 preiiing our dependence, our obedience and devotion to 
 <^od. Now if this be the reafon of verbal praifes and 
 
 thankf« 
 
120 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 thankfgivings to God, becaufe we are to live unto God 
 all poilible ways, then it plainly follows, that we are e- 
 qually obliged to worfhip, and glorify God in all other 
 actions, that can be turned into a6fs of piety and obedi- 
 ence to him. And as actions are of much more fignifi- 
 cancy than words, it muft be a much more acceptable 
 worfnip 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 
 thankfgiving, he that makes it a rule to be content and 
 thankful in every part and accident of his life, becaufe it 
 comes from God, praifes God in a much higher manner, 
 than he that has fome fet time for finging of pfalms. He 
 that dares not fay an ill-natured word, or do an unrea- 
 fonable tiling, becaufe he confiders God as every where 
 prefent, performs a better devotion than he that dares 
 not mifs the Church. To live in the world as a If ranger 
 Tind a pilgrim, ufmg ail its enjoyments as if we ufed them 
 r.Ot, making all our a'i}:icHis i'-j many fteps towards a bet- 
 ter life, is ofFering a better facrifice to God, than any 
 forms of hcly and heavenly prayers. 
 
 To be humble in ail our actions, to avoid every ap- 
 pearance of pride and vanity, to be meek and lowly in 
 our words, adllons, drefs, behaviour and defigns, in imi- 
 tation of our biefTed Saviour, is worihipping God in a 
 higher manner, than they who have only tim.es to fall 
 low on their knee'' in devotion. He that contents him- 
 felf with neceifaries, that he rriay give the remainder to 
 thofe that want it •, that dares not to fpend any money 
 foollfnly, becaufe he confiders it as a talent from God, 
 which muu: be ufed according to his will, praifes God 
 with fomething that is more glorious than fongs of praife. 
 He that has appointed times for the ufe of wife and 
 pious prayers, performs a proper inltance of devotion ; 
 but he that allov/s himfelf no times, nor any places, nor 
 any actions, but fuch as are fi:ri6tly conformable to wif- 
 dom and holinefs, worfliips the divine nature v/ith the 
 moll true and fubftantial devotion. For who does not 
 know, that it is better to be prre and holy, than to talk 
 '«ibout purity and holinefs ? Nay, v/ho does not know, 
 that a man is to be reckoned no farther pure, or holy^ or 
 
 Jult, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 121 
 
 jnft, than as he is pure, and holy, and juft In the com- 
 mon courfe of his life ? But if this be plain, then it is 
 alfo plain, that it is better to be holy, than to have holy 
 prayers. 
 
 Prayers therefore are fo far from being a fufhcient 
 devotion, that they are the fmalleft parts of it. We are 
 to praife God with words and prayers, becaufe it is a 
 poffible way of glorifying God, who has given us fuch 
 faculties, as may be fo uied. But then as words are but 
 fmall things in themfelves, as times of prayer are but 
 little, if compared with the reft of our lives j fo that de- 
 votion which con flits in times and forms of prayer, is 
 but a very fmall 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 worfhip God with 
 forms of words, and to obferve times of offering them 
 unto him, fo it is the fmalleil kind of piety. 
 
 And on the other hand, as it is more difiicult to wor- 
 fhip God with our fubilance, to honour him with the 
 right ufe of our time, to offer to him the continual facri- 
 fice of felf-denial and mortification j 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 diver- 
 sion, but where we can acl in the name of God ; as it 
 is m.ofl difiicult to facrifice all our corrupt tempers, cor- 
 recl all our pafiions, and make piety to God the rule and 
 meafure of all the acl:ions of our common life ; fo the 
 devotion of this kind is a much more acceptable fervice 
 unto God, than thofe words of devotion v^hich we offer 
 to him either in the Church, or in our clofet. 
 
 Every fober reader will eafdy perceive, that I don't 
 intend to leffen the true and great value of prayers, 
 either public or private ; but only to fiiew him, that 
 they are certainly but a very ilender part of devotion, 
 when compared to a devout life. 
 
 To fee this in a yet clearer light, let us fuppofe a per- 
 fon to have appointed times for praifmg God with 
 pfalms and hymns, and to be ftrict in the obfeivation of 
 them ; let it be fuppofed alfo, that in his common life 
 he is reftlefs and uheafy, full of rnurm.urings and com- 
 plaints -at every thing, never pieafed but by chance, as 
 
 his 
 
12^2 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 His temper happens to carry him, but murmuring and 
 repining at the very feafons, and having fomething to 
 diilike in every thing that happens to him. Now can 
 you conceive any thing more abfurd and unreafonable> 
 than fuch a character as this ? Is iuch a one to be reck- 
 oned thankful to God, becaufe he has forms of pr^fe 
 ^vhich he offers to him ? Nay, is it not certain, that 
 fuch forms cS praife muft be fo far from being an ac- 
 ceptable devotion to God, that they mud be abhor'd as 
 an abomination ? Now the abfurdity which you fee in 
 this inllance, is the fame in any other part of our life ; 
 if our common Hfe hath any contrariety to our prayers, 
 -it is the fame abomination, as fongs of thankfgiving iu 
 the mouths of raurmurers. 
 
 Bended knees^ whilll you are cloathed with pride ; 
 heavenly petitions, v/hilil you are hoarding up treafures 
 upon earth ; holy devotions, whilft you live in the fol- 
 lies of the world*, prayers of meeknefs and charity, whilit 
 your heart is the feat of fpite and refentment ; hours of 
 prayer, whilft you give up days and years to idle diver- 
 Jions, impertinent vifits, and foolifli plealures ; are as 
 abfurd, unacceptable fervice to God, as forms of thankf- 
 giving from a perfon that lives in repinings and difcon- 
 tent. 
 
 So that unlefs the common courfe of our lives be ac- 
 cording to the common fpirit of our prayers, our pray- 
 ers are fo far from being a real or fufficient degree of de- 
 votion, that they become an empty lip-labour, or, what 
 is worfe, a notorious hypocrify. 
 
 Seeing therefore we are to make the fpirit and temper 
 of our prayers the common fpirit and temper of our 
 lives, this may ferve to convince us, that all orders of 
 people are to labour and afpire after the fame utmoft 
 perfe6fion of the Chriftian life. For as all Chriftians are 
 to ufe the fanie holy and heavenly devotions, as they are 
 all with the fame earneftnefs to pray for the Spirit of 
 God •, fo is it a fufficient proof, that all orders of people 
 are, to the utmoft of their power, to make their life a- 
 ^reeable to that one Spirit, for which they are all to 
 pray. 
 
 As certain therefore as the fame holinefs of prayers 
 
 requires 
 
DEVOUT AKD HOLY LIFE. 12^ 
 
 requires the fame holinels of life, fo certain is it, that all 
 Chriftians are called to the fame holinefs of life. 
 
 A foldier, or a tradefman, is not called to minifter at 
 the altar, or preach the gofpel ; but every foldier or 
 tradefman is as much obliged to be devout, humble, holy, 
 and^eavenly-minded in all the parts of his common life, 
 as a clergyman is obligxsd to be zealous, faithful, and la- 
 borious in all parts of his profeffion. 
 
 And all this, for this one plain reafon, becaufe all peo- 
 ple are to pray for the fame holinefs, wifdom, and di- 
 vine tempers, and to make themfelves as fit as they caa 
 for the fame heaven. 
 
 Ail men therefore, as men, have one and the fame 
 important bufinefs, to ad: up to the excellency of their 
 rational nature, and to make reafon and order the law of 
 all their defigns and actions. All Chriilians, as Chrif- 
 tians, have one and the fame calling, to live according 
 to the excellency of the Chrillian fpirit, and to make the 
 fublime precepts of the gofpel, the rule and meafure of 
 ail their tempers in common life. The one tiling need- 
 ful to one, is the one thing needful to all. 
 
 The merchant is no longer to hoard uptreafures upon 
 €arth; the foldier is no longer to fight for glory; the 
 ;great fcholar is no longer to pride himfclf in the depths 
 of fcience ; but they mult all with one fpirit cGunt all 
 things hut lofsy for the excellency of the knoivledge of Chr'ijl 
 
 The fine lady mufl teach her eyes to weep, and be 
 cloathed with humility. The polite gentleman mult ex- 
 change the gay thoughts of wit and fancy, for a broken 
 and a contrite heart. The man of quality muft fo far 
 renounce the dignity of his birth, as to think himfelf 
 miferable till he is born again. Servants mult confider 
 their fervice as done unto God. Matters muft confider 
 their fervants as their brethren in Chrift, that are to be 
 treated as their fellow members of the myftical body of 
 Chrift. 
 
 Young: Ladies muft either devote themfelves to piety, 
 
 prayer, lelf-denial, and all good works, in a virgin ftate 
 
 •of life \ or elfe marry to be holy, fober, and prudent in 
 
 the care of a family, bringing up their children in piety, 
 
 humility and devotion, and abounding in all other good 
 
 vs^orkSj, 
 
124* A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 works, to the utmofc of their (late and capacity. They 
 have no choice of any thing elfe, but muft devote them- 
 felves to God in one of thefe Hates. They may chufe 
 a married or a fingle life •, but it is not left to their choice, 
 whether they will make either Hate a ilate of holinefs, 
 humility, devotion, and all other duties of the chriitian 
 life. It is no more left in their power, becaufe they 
 have fortunes, or are born of rich parents, to divide 
 themfelves betwi'xt God and the world, or take fucli 
 pleafures as their fortunes would afford them., that it is 
 allowable for them to be fometim^s chalte and modeft, 
 and fometimes not. 
 
 They are not to confider how much religion may fe- 
 cure themi a fair character, or how they may add devo- 
 tion to an impertinent, vain, and giddy life ; but muft 
 look into the fpirit and temper of their prayers, into the 
 nature and end of Chriftianity, and then they will find, 
 that whether married or unmarried, they have but one 
 buiinefs 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 courfe of their common 
 life. 
 
 Young gentlemen mull confider, what our blefied Sa- 
 viour faid to the young gentlemen in the gofpel, he bid 
 him fell all that he had arid give it to the poor. Now 
 though this text fhould not oblige all people to fell all, 
 yet it certainly obliges all kinds of people to employ all 
 their eilates in fuch wife and reafonable and charitable 
 ways, as may fufhciently fiiew that all that they have is 
 devoted to God, and that no part of it is kept from the 
 poor to be fpent in needlefs, vain, and foolifh expences. 
 
 If therefore young gentlemen propcfe to themxfelves a 
 life of pleafure and indulgence, if they fpend their efbates 
 in a high living, in lu?:ury and intemperance, in ftate 
 and equipage, in pleafures and diverfions, in fports and 
 gaming, and fuch like wanton gratifications of their 
 loolifn palTions, they have as much reafon to look upon 
 themfelves to be angels, as to be difciples of Chrift. 
 
 Let them be aiTured, that it is the oneonly bufinefsof 
 a chriftian gentleman, to diftinguifh himfelf by good 
 works, to be eminent in the molt fubiime virtues of the 
 
 gofpeU 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 125 
 
 gorpel, to bear with the ignorance and weaknefs of the 
 vulgar, to be a friend and patron to all that dwell about 
 Iiim, to live in the utmofl heights of wildom and holi- 
 nefs, and fhew through the whole courfe of his life a 
 true religious greatnefs of mind. They inuft afpire after 
 fuch a gentility, as they might have learnt from feeing 
 the blefled Jefus, and fhew no other fpirit of a gentle- 
 man, but fuch as they might have got by living with the 
 holy apoftles. They mull learn to love God v/ith all 
 their heart, M'ith all their foul, and with all their ftrength, 
 and their neighbour as themfelves ; and then they have 
 all the greatnefs and diilinction that they can have here, 
 and are fit for an eternal happinefs in heaven hereafter. 
 Thus in all orders and conditions either of men c-t 
 women, this is the one common holinefs, which is to be 
 the common life of all Chrillians. 
 
 The m^erchant is not to leave dei'otioil to the clergy- 
 man, nor the clergy m.an to leave humility to- the labour- 
 er ; women of fortune are not to leave it to the poor o£ 
 their fex, to be difcreet, chade keepers at home, to ador.^ 
 themfelves in modelt apparel, fliamefacednefs and fo- 
 briety *, nor poor women leave it to the rich to attend 
 on the worihip and fervice of God. Great men muit 
 be eminent for true poverty of fpirit, and people of a low 
 and afHi6led (late muft greatly rejoice in God. 
 
 The man of Itrength and power is to forgive and pray 
 for his enemies, and the innocent fufFerer that is chain- 
 ed in prifon, mud: with Paul and Silus, at midnight Cmg 
 praife to God. For God is to be glorified, holinefs is to 
 be pratlifed, and the fpirit of religion is to be the com- 
 mon fpirit of every chriltian in every ftate and condition 
 of life. 
 
 For the fon of <jod did not come from above, to add 
 an external form of worfliip to the feveral v/ays of life 
 that are in the world ; and fo 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, fo it was to call mankind to a divine and 
 heavenly life ; to the higheft change of their whole na- 
 ture and temper ; to be born again of the holy Spirit; to 
 walk in the wifdom and light and love of God j and be 
 
 F like 
 
126 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 like him to the utmofl: of their power ; to renounce all 
 the moft plaufible ways of the world, whether of great- 
 nefs, bufmels, or pleafurej to a mortification of aU their 
 moft agreeable palTions ; and to live in fuch wifdom, and 
 purity, and holinefs, as might fit them to be glorious in 
 the enjoyment of God to all eternity. 
 
 Whatever therefore is foolifli, ridiculous, vain, or 
 earthly, or fenfual in the life of a chriilian, is fomething 
 that ought not to be there, it is a fpot and a defilement 
 that muft be wafhed away with tears of repentance. 
 But if any thing of this kind runs through the courfe of 
 our whole life, if we allow ourfelves in things, that are 
 either vain, foolifli or fenfual, we renounce our pro- 
 {"eflion. 
 
 For as fure as Jefus Chrift was wifdom and holinefs, 
 as fure as he came to make us like himfelf, and to be 
 baptized into his fpirit, fo fure is it, that none can be 
 faid to keep to their chriftian profciTion, but they, who 
 to the utmoft of their power live a wife and holy and 
 lieavenly life. This, and this alone, is Chriftianity, an 
 univerfal holinefs in every part of life, a heavenly wif- 
 dom in all our actions, not conforming to the fpirit and 
 temper of the world, but turning all worldly enjoyments 
 into means of piety and devotion to God. 
 
 But now if this devout flate of heart, if thefe habits 
 of inward holinefs be true religion, 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 bifhop to live in 
 this devout fpirit, full of thefe holy tempers, doing every 
 thing as unto God, it is as much the glory and happinefs 
 of ail men and women, whether young or old, to live in 
 the fame fpirit. And whoever can find any reafons, why 
 an ancient bifliop fhould be intent upon divine things, 
 turning all his life into the higheft exercifes of piety, 
 wifdom and devotion, will find them fo many reafons, 
 why he fhould to the utmoft of his power do the fame 
 himfelf- 
 
 If you fay, that a bifhop muft be an eminent example 
 cf Chriftian holinefs, becaufe of his high and facred cal- 
 ling, you fay right. But if you fay that it is^more to his 
 
 ad- 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 12T 
 
 advantage to be exemplary, than it is yours, you greatly 
 miftake. For there is nothing to make the higheft de- 
 grees of hoiinefs defireable to a bifhop, but what makes 
 them equally defireable to every young perfon of every 
 family. 
 
 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 heft bifhop in the M'orld, how you 
 would have him love God, how you would have hini 
 imitate the life of our Saviour and his apollles, how you 
 would have him live above the world, (hining in all the 
 inflances of a heavenly life, and then you have found out 
 that fpirit, which you ought to make the fpirit of your 
 own life. 
 
 I defire every reader to dwell a while upon this re- 
 flection, and perhaps he will find more conviction 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 bifiiop, to be 
 entirely above the world, and be an example of chriftian 
 perfection : As foon as you think of a wife and ancient 
 bilbop, you fancy fome exalted degree of piety, a living 
 example of all thofe holy tempers, which you find de- 
 fcribed in the gofpel. 
 
 Now if you alk yourfelf, what is the happiefl thing for 
 a young clergyman to do ? You mult be forced to an- 
 fvv^er, that nothing can be fo happy and glorious for him, 
 as to be like that excellent holy bifliop. 
 
 If you go on, and alk what is the happiell thing for 
 any young gentleman or his fillers to do? The anfwer 
 mull be the fame ; that nothing can be fo happy or glo- 
 rious for them, as to live in fuch habits of piety, in fuch 
 exercifes of a divine life, as this good old biihop does. 
 For every thing that is great and glorious in religion, is 
 as much the true glory of every man or v/oman, as it is 
 the glory of any bifhop. If liigh degrees of divine love, 
 if fervent charity, if fpotlefs purity, if heavenly alFsClion, 
 if conftant mortification, if frequent devotion be the beft 
 and happieit way of life for any chriHian ; it is fo for 
 every chriitian. 
 
 F 2 Con- 
 
128 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Confider agrtin ; if you was to fee a bifhop in the 
 whole courfe of his Hfe, Hving below his character, con- 
 forming to all the foolifh tempers of the world, and go- 
 verned by the fame 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 miltake ? 
 No : you would condemn him, as erring in that which 
 is not only the moil, but tb.e only important matter that 
 relates to him. Stay a while in this confideration, till 
 your mind is fully convinced, how mifcrable a millake it 
 is in a biihop, to live a carelcfs, worldly life. 
 
 "Wliilft you are thinking in tliis manner, turn your 
 thoughts towards feme of your acquaintance, your bro- 
 ther or filter, or any young perfon. Now if you fee 
 the common courfe of their lives to be not according to 
 the doctrines of the gofpel, if you fee that their way 
 of life cannot be faid to be a fmcere endeavour to enter 
 in at the Itraight gate, you fee fomething that you are to 
 condemn in the fame degree, and for the fame reaions. 
 They do not commit a fmall miftake, but are wrong in 
 that which is their all, and nliitake their true happinefs, 
 as much as that biihop does, who neglects the high du- 
 ties of his calling. Apply this reafoning to yourlelf ; if 
 you find yourfelf living an idle, indulgent, vain life, chu- 
 ling rather to gratify your paihons, than to live up ta 
 the doctrines of Chriltianity, and pratStife the plain pre- 
 cepts of our blefied Lord, you have all that blindncfs and 
 imreafonablenefs to charge upon your felf, tliat you can 
 charge upon any irregular biihop. 
 
 For all the virtues of the Chriftian life, its perfect 
 purity, its heavenly temper?, are as much the fole rule 
 of your life, as the fole rule of the life of a biihop. If 
 you negledi^ thefe holy tempers if you do not eagerly 
 afpire after them, if you do not fliew yourfelf a vifible 
 example of them, you are as much fallen from your true 
 happinefs, you are as great an enemy to yourlelf, and 
 have made as bad a choice, as that bifiiop that chufes ra- 
 ther to enrich his family, than to be like an apoitle. For 
 there is no reafon, why you ihould think the higheft ho- 
 hnefs the moft heavenly tempers, to be the duty and 
 happinefs of a bifliop ; but what is as good a reafon, why 
 you ihouid think tlie fame tempers^ to be the duty and 
 
 ^ happinefs 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 129 
 
 li2ppinefs of all chriftians. And as the wlfeft bifhop in 
 the work!, is he, who lives in the greatell heights of ho- 
 linefs, who is mod exemplary in all the exercifes of a 
 divine life, fo the wifcil youth, the wifelt woman, whe- 
 ther married or unmarried, is llie, that lives in the high- 
 eit degrees of Chriitian holinefs, and all the exercifes of 
 a divine and heavenly life. 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 Shewing how great devotion Jills cur lives with the greateji 
 peace and happinefs^ that can he enjoyed in thii world, 
 
 SOM?2 people will perhp.ps obje6l, that all thefe rules 
 of holy living unto God in ail that we do, are too 
 great a reftraint upon liuman life *, that it will be made 
 too anxious a Hate, by thus introducing a regard to God 
 in all our actions. And th^t by depriving ourfelves of 
 fo inany f?emingiy innocent pleafures, we (iiall render 
 Okir lives dull, uneafy, and melancholy. 
 
 To which it may be anfv/ered : 
 
 Firfl, That thefe rules are prefcribed for, and will 
 certainly procure a quite contrary end. That inftead 
 of mnici ng our lives dull and melancholy, they v/ill ren- 
 der them fall of content and ftrong faticfadions. Tliat 
 by thefe rules we only change the cnildiHi fatisfadtions of 
 our vain and fickiy paffions, for the folid enjoyments, 
 and real happinefs of a found mind. 
 
 Secondly, I'hat as there is no foundation for comfort 
 in the enjoyments of ihis life, but in the a ilu ranee that a 
 wife and good God governeth the world, fo the moie 
 we find out God in every thing, the more we apply to 
 him in ever/ place, the more we look up to him in ail 
 our actions, the more we conform to his v/ill, the more 
 we act according to iiis wifdom, and imitate his good- 
 nefs, by fo much the more do we enjoy God, partake of 
 the divine nature, and heighten and increafe all that is 
 happy and comfortable in human life. 
 
 Thirdly, He that is endeavouring to fubdue and root 
 F 3 out 
 
330 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 out of his mind all tliofe paffions of pride, envy, and am- 
 bition, which religion oppofes, is doing more to make 
 himfelf happy, even in this life, than he that is contriving 
 means to indulge them. 
 
 For thefe paffions are the caufes of all the difquiets 
 and vexations of human life : they are the dropfies and 
 fevers of our minds, vexing them virith falfe appetites, 
 and reitlefs cravings after fuch things as we do not want, 
 and fpoili ng our taile for thofe things which are our pro- 
 per good. 
 
 Do but imagine that you fome where or other faw a 
 man that propofed reafon as the rule of all his alliens, 
 that had no defires but after fuch things as nature wants., 
 and religion approves, that was as pure from all the mo- 
 tions of pride, envy, and covetoufnefs, as from thoughts 
 of murder j that in this freedom from worldly paffions, 
 he had a foul full of 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 confcience v/ill immediately tell you, that he is the 
 happieft man in the world, and that it is not in the power 
 of the richeft fancy to invent any higher happinefs in 
 the prefent (late of life. 
 
 And on the other hand, if you fuppofe him to be in 
 any degree iefs perfe6l ; if you fuppofe him but fubjecl 
 to one foolifh fondnefs, or vain paffion, your own con- 
 fcience will again tell you, that he fo far leffiens 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 happinefs is only to 
 be had from the greateft degrees of piety, the greateil 
 denials of our paffions, and the ftriclell rules of religion, 
 fo the fame truth will appear from a confideration of hu- 
 man mifery. If we look into the world, and view the 
 difquiets and troubles of human life, we fhall find that 
 they are all owing to our violent and irreHgious paffions. 
 
 Now all trouble and uneafmefs is founded in the want 
 ©f fomething or other ; would wfi therefore know the 
 
 true 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 131 
 
 true caufe of our troubles and difquiets, we mud find 
 out the caufe of our wants ; becaufe that which creates 
 and increafeth our wants, does in the lame degree create 
 and increafe our trouble and difquiets. 
 
 God Almighty has fent us into the world with very 
 few wants ; meat, and drink, and cloathing, are the only 
 things necellary in life ; and as thefe are only our prefent 
 needs, fo the prefent world is well furniftied to fupply 
 thefe needs. 
 
 If a man had half the world in his power, he can 
 make no more of it than this j as he wants it only to 
 fupport an animal life, fo it is unable to do any thing 
 elfe for him, or to afford him any other happinefs. 
 
 This is the ftate of man, born with few wants, and 
 into a large world, very capable of fupplying them. 80 
 that one would reafonably fuppofe, that men fliould pafs 
 their lives in content and thankful nefs to God, at leaft 
 that they fhould be free from violent difquiets and vexa- 
 tions, as being placed in a world, that has more than e- 
 nough to relieve all their wants. 
 
 But if to all this we add, that this fhort life, thus fur- 
 iiifhed -yvith all that we want in it, is only a ihort palfage 
 to eternal glory, where we fhall be cloathed with the 
 brightnefs of angels, and enter into the joys of God, 
 we might (till more reafonably expert, that human life 
 ihould be a (late of peace, and joy, and delight in God. 
 Thus it would certainly be, if reafon had its full power 
 over us. 
 
 But alas, though God, and nature, and reafon, make 
 human life thus free from wants, and fo full of happi- 
 nefs, yet our paffions, in rebellion againil God, againit 
 nature and reafon, create a new world of evils, and fill 
 human life with imaginary wants, and vain difquiets. 
 
 'The man of pride 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 ambition have alfo their endlefs 
 wants, which difquiet the fouls of men, and by their 
 contradi£l'ory motions, render them as foolilhly mi- 
 ferable, as thofe that want to fiy and creep at the fame 
 time. 
 
 F 4f Let 
 
132 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Let but any complaining, difquieted man tell you the 
 ground of his uneafmefs, and you will plainly fee, that 
 he is the author of his own torment ^ that he is vexing 
 himfelf at fome imaginary evil, which will ceafe to tor- 
 ment him, as foon as he is content to be that which God, 
 and nature, and re'afon require him to be. 
 
 If you ihouid fee a m.an pafhng his days in difquiet, 
 becaufe he could not walk upon the water, or catch birds 
 as they fly by him, you would readily confefs, thatfuch 
 a one might thank himfelf for fuch uneafmefs. But now _ 
 if you look into all the mofi: tormenting difquiets of 
 life, you Mill find them all thus abfurd •, where people are 
 only tormented by their own folly, and vexing them- 
 felves at fuch things as no more concern them, nor are 
 any more their proper good, than walking upon the v/a- 
 ter, or catchi;ig birds. 
 
 What can you conceive more filly and extravagant, 
 than to fuppofe a man racking his brains, and ftudying 
 night and day how to fly? wandering from his own houfe 
 and home, wearying himfelf with climbing upon every 
 afcent, cringing and courting every body he meets, to 
 lift him up from the ground, bruiiing himfelf with con- 
 tinual falls, and at lait breaking his neck ? And a;4] this, 
 ffom an imagination that it would be glorious to have 
 the eyes of people gazing up at him, and mighty happy 
 to eat, and drink, and fieep, at the top of the highelt 
 trees in the kingdom. Would you not readily own, that 
 fuch a one was only difquieted by his own folly ? 
 
 If you aflc, what it fignifies to fuppofe fuch filly 
 creatures as thefe, as are no where to be found in human 
 life ? 
 
 It may be anfwered, that wherever you fee an ambi- 
 tious rnan, there you fee this vain and fenfelefs flyer. 
 
 Again, if you fliould fee a man that had a large.pond 
 of Vv^ater, yet living in continual third, not fufFering 
 tiimfeif to drink half a draught, for fear of ieflening his 
 pond J if you fhould fee him wafting his time and 
 flrength, in fetching more wat#r to his pond, always 
 tliirfty, yet always carrying a bucicet of water in his hand, 
 watching early and late to catch the dc.ops of rain, ga- 
 ping after every cloud, and running greedily into every 
 jnire and mud, in hopes of water, and alvi^ays ftudying 
 
 how 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 13S 
 
 how to make every ditch e^ipty itfeif into his pond. _ If 
 you fliould fee him grow grey and old in thefe anxioii§ 
 labours, and at laft end a careful, thirfty life,^ by falling 
 into his own pond, would you not fay that fuch a one 
 was not only the author of all his own dii'quiets, but 
 was foolilh enough to be reckoned amongft ideots and 
 madmen ? But yet foolifn and abfurd as this charad^er 
 is, it does not reprefent half the follies ^ and abfurd dif- 
 quiets, of the covetous man. 
 
 I could now eafily proceed to fhew the fame efFe£ls of 
 all our other paffions ; and make it plainly appear, that 
 all our miferies, vexations, and complaints, are entirely 
 of our own making, and that in the fame abfurd manner, 
 as in thefe inftances of the covetous and ambitious man. 
 Look where you will, you will fee ail 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 fufhcient for an hundred horfes. 
 
 C?elia is always telling you how provoked flie is, what 
 intolerable iliocking things happen to her, what mon- 
 Itrous ufage ihe fuifers, and what vexations flie meets 
 with every where. Siie tells you that her patience is 
 quite wore out, and there is no bearing the behaviour of 
 people. Every aflembly that fhe is at, fends her home 
 provoked ; fomething or other has been faid or done, 
 that no reafonable, well-bred perfon ought to bear. Poor 
 people that want her charity, are fent avv^ay with hafty 
 anfwers, not becaufe i]^,e has not a heart to part with 
 any money, but becaufe flie is too full of fome trouble of 
 her own, to attend the complaints of others. C^lia has 
 no bufmels upon her hands, but to receive the incom^e 
 of a plentiful fortune ; but yet by tlie doleful turn of 
 her mind, you would be apt to think, that fhe had nei- 
 ther food nor lodging. If you fee her look more pale 
 than ordinary, if her lips tremble v/hen fhe fpeaks to 
 you, it is becaufe fhe is juft come from a vi6t, 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 fo difordered her fpirits, that fne is forced 
 to fend for the Do£i:or to make her able to eat; fne tells 
 4aim, in great anger at providence, that fiie never was 
 
 r 5 . well 
 
Jf34< A SEHIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 well fince (he was born, and that fhe envies every beg- 
 gar that {lie fees in health. 
 
 This is the difquiet life of Cselia, who has nothing to 
 torment her but her own fpirit. 
 
 If you would infpire her with a Chriftian humility, 
 you need do no more to make her happy as any perfon 
 in the world. This virtue would make her thankful to 
 God for half fo much health as {he has had, and lielp 
 her to enjoy more for the time to come. This virtue 
 would keep off tremblings of the fpirits, and lofs of ap- 
 petite, and her blood would need nothing elfe to fweet- 
 en it. 
 
 I have ju{l touched upon thefe abfurd characters for 
 no other end, but to convince you in the plaineft man- 
 ner, that the {tripled rules of religion are fo far from 
 rendering a life dull, anxious, and uncomfortable (as is 
 above objected) that, on the contrary, all the miferies, 
 vexations, and complaints that are in the world, are all 
 owing to the want of religion ; being direcStly caufed 
 by thofe abfurd paflions, which religion teaches us to 
 deny. 
 
 For all the wants Vv^hich di{turb human life, which 
 make us uneafy to ourfelves, quarrelfome with others, 
 and unthankful to God ; which weary us in vain labours 
 and fooii{h anxieties ', which carry us from proje^St to 
 project, from place to place, in a poor purfuit of we 
 don't know what, are the wants which neither God, nor 
 nature, nor reafon hath fubjeCled us to, but are folely 
 infufed into us, by pride, envy, ambition, and covetouf- 
 nefs. 
 
 So far therefore as you reduce your defires to fuch 
 things as nature and reafon require ; fo far as you regu- 
 late all the motions of your heart by the {triCt 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 preferves us 
 from a great many evils, and helps us in many refpe^s 
 to a more happy enjoyment of ourfelves; but then they 
 imagine, that this is only true of fuch a moderate {hare 
 of religion, as only gently reftrains us from the excefTes 
 of our paflions. They fuppofe that the ftri(^ rules and 
 
 re- 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 135 
 
 reftraints of an exalted piety, are fuch contradictions to 
 our nature, as muil: needs make our lives dull and un- 
 comfortable. 
 
 Although the weaknefs of this objection fufEciently 
 appears from what hath been already faid, yet I fliall 
 add one word more to it. 
 
 This objeClion fuppofes, that religion, moderately 
 pra£tifed, adds much to the happinefs of life -, but that 
 fuch height of piety as the perfection of religion requir- 
 eth, have a contrary efte6t. 
 
 It fuppofes therefore, tliat It is happy to be kept from 
 the exceil'es of envy, but unhappy to be kept from other 
 degrees of envy ; that it is happy to be delivered from 
 a boundiefs ambition, but unhappy to be without a more 
 moderate ambition. It fuppofes alfo, that the happinefs 
 of life confiils In a mixture of ambition, and humility^ 
 charity and envy, heavenly aifetlion and covetoufnefs. 
 All which is as abfurdy as to fuppofe that it is happy to 
 be free from exceffive pains, but unhappy to be without 
 more moderate pains v or that the happinefs of health 
 confifted in being partly fick^ and partly well. 
 
 For if humility be the peace and reil of the foul, then 
 no one has fo much happinefs from humility, as he that 
 is the mod humble. If exceffive envy is a torment of 
 the foul, he moft perfe£i:ly delivers himfelf from torment, 
 that moft perfectly extinguiflies every fpark of envy. If 
 there is any peace and joy in doing any action according 
 to the will of God, he that brings the moft of his actions 
 to this rule, does moft of all increafe the peace and joy 
 of his life. 
 
 And thus it is in every virtue ; If you zO: up to every 
 degree of it, the more happinefs you have from it. And 
 fo of every vice ; if you only abate its excelles, you do 
 but little for yourfelf ; but if you reject it in all de- 
 grees, then you feel the true eafe and joy of a reformed 
 fnind. 
 
 As for example: If religion only reftralns the exceiTes 
 cf revenge, but lets the fpirit ftill live within you in. 
 leileiAnftances, your religion may have made your life 
 a little more outwardly decent, but not have made you 
 at all happier or eafier In yourfelf. But if you hava 
 ouge fagrifiged all thoughts of revenge, in obedience ta 
 - F ^ God, 
 
136 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 God, and are refolved to return good for evil at all times, 
 that you may render yourfelf more like to God, and 
 fitter for his mercy in the kingdom of love and glory ; 
 this is a height of virtue that vi'ill make you feel its hap- 
 pinefs. 
 
 SecGndlvy As to thofe fatisfa^lions and enjoyments 
 which an exalted piety requireth us to deny ourfeives, 
 this deprives us of real comfort of life. 
 
 For, 1/?, Piety requires us to renounce no ways of 
 life, where we can acl reafonably, and offer what we do 
 to the glory of God. All ways of Hfe, all fatisfa6tions 
 and enjoyments that are within thefe bounds, are no 
 way denied us by the llrifteft rules of piety. Whatever 
 you can do, or enjoy, as in the prefence of God, as his 
 fervant, as his rational creature, that has received reafon 
 and knowledge from him ; all that you can perform con- 
 formably 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 uncomfortable, unlefs you may 
 difpleafe God, be a fool and mad, and a6l contrary to that 
 reaion and vv ifdom which he has im.planted in you ^ 
 
 And as for thofe fatisfadlions, which we dare not offer 
 to a holy God, which are only invented by the folly and 
 corruption of the world, which inflame our pafTions, and 
 fmk our fouls into grofsnefs and fenfuality, and render 
 us incapable of the divine favour either here or hereaf- 
 ter; furely it can be no uncomfortable flate of life, to be 
 refcued by religion from fuch felf-murder, and to be 
 Tendered capable of eternal happinefs. 
 
 Let us fuppofe a perfon deilitute of that knowledge 
 which we have from our fenfes, placed fomewhere alone 
 by himfelf, in the midit of a variety of things which 
 he did not knowhov/ to ufe, that he has by him bread, 
 wine, water, golden dull, iron chains, gravel, garments, 
 fire, Sec. Let it be fuppofed, that lie has no knowledge 
 of the right ufe of thefe things, nor any dire6lion from 
 his fenfes how to quench his thirlt, or fatisfy his hunger, 
 or make any ufe of the things about him. Let it be 
 fuppofed, that in his draught he puts golden duft into 
 his eyes ; when his eyes fmart, he puts wine into his 
 ears ; that in his hunger, he puts gravel in his mouth ; 
 ^hatin pain, he leads himfelf with the iroji<;hains; that 
 
 feeU 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 137 
 
 feeling- cold, he puts his feet in the water ; that being 
 frighted at the fire, he runs away from it j that being 
 weary, he makes a feat of his bread. Let it be fuppo- 
 fed, that through his ignorance of the right ufe of the 
 things that are about him, he v/ill plainly torment him- 
 felf whilft he lives j and at laft die, blinded with duft, 
 choaked with gravel, and loaded with irons. Let it be 
 fuppofed that fome good Being came to him, and ihewed 
 him the nature and ufe of all the things that were about 
 him, and gave him fuch ltri£l: rules of ufmg them, as 
 would certainly, if obferved, make him the happier for 
 all that he had, and deliver him from the pains of hun- 
 ger, and third, and cold. 
 
 Now could you with any reafon affirm, that thofe 
 ftricl: rules of ufmg tliofe things that were about him^, 
 had rendered that poor man's Ufe dull and uncomfort- 
 able, j^ •- 
 
 Now this is in fome meafure a reprefentation of the 
 flriO: rules of religion ; they only relieve our ignorance, 
 fave us from tormenting ourfelves, and teach us to ufe 
 every thing about us to our proper advantage. 
 
 Man is placed in a world full of variety of things ; his 
 ignorance makes him ufe many of them as abfurdly, as 
 the man that put dull in his eyes to relieve his thirit, or 
 put on chains to remove pain. 
 
 Religion therefore here comes in to his relief, and 
 gives him ftridl rules of ufmg every thing that is about 
 him ; that by fo ufmg them fultably to his own nature 
 and the nature of the things, he may have always the 
 pleafure of receiving a right benefit from them. It 
 ihews him what is ftri^tly right in meat, drink, and 
 cloaths ; and that he has nothing elfe to expert from the 
 things of this world, but to fatisfy fuch wants of his 
 own i and then to extend his aihftance to all his bre- 
 thren, that as far as he is able, he may help all his fel- 
 low-creatures to the fame benefit from the v/orld that he 
 hath. 
 
 It tells him, that this world is incapable of giving him 
 any other happinefs j and that all endeavours to be hap- 
 py in heaps of money, or acres of land, in fine cloaths, 
 xich beds, (lately equipage, and (hew and fplendour, 
 •»re only vain endeavours, ignorant attempts after im- 
 
 polli- 
 
138 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 poflibilities ; thefe things being no more able to give 
 the lealt degree of happinefs, than dull in the eyes can 
 cure third, or gravel in the mouth fatisfy hunger ; but, 
 like duft and gravel mifapplied, will only ferve to ren- 
 der him more unhappy by fuch an ignorant mifufe of 
 them. 
 
 It tells him, that although this v^^orld 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 eat- 
 ing, drinking, and drelhng ; that it is yetinvifible to his 
 eyes, being too glorious for the apprehenfion of flefh and 
 blood ; but referved for him to enter upon, as foon as 
 this fhort life is over ; where, in a new body, formed to 
 an angelic likenefs, he fhall dwell in the light and glory 
 of God to all eternity. 
 
 It tells him, that this flate of glory will be given to 
 all thofe, that make a right ufe of the things of this 
 prefent world ; who do not blind themfelves with golden 
 dull, or eat gravel, or groan under loads of iron of their 
 own putting on; but ufe bread, water, wine, and gar- 
 ments, for fuch ends as are according to nature and rea- 
 foA ; and who with faith and thankfulnefs worfnip the 
 kink Giver of all that they enjoy here, and hope for 
 hereafter. 
 ^ Now can any one fay, that the ftricleft rules of fuch 
 .a' religion as this, debar us any of the comforts of life ? 
 Might it not as juil;ly be faid of thofe rules, that only 
 hindered a man from choaking himfelf with gravel ? For 
 the ftricf nefs of thefe rules only confilts in the exa(5l:nefs 
 of their redlitude. 
 
 Who could complain of the fevere flri£lnefs of a law, 
 that without any exception forbad the putting of dull 
 into our eyes l Who could think it too rigid, that there 
 were no abatements ? Now this is the Itriclnefs of reli- 
 gion, it requires nothing of us ItricSlly, or without abate- 
 ments, but where every degree of the thing is wrong, 
 where every indulgence does us fome hurt. 
 
 If religion forbids all inilances of revenge without any 
 exception, it is becaufe all revenge is of the nature of 
 poifon ; and though we do not take fo much as to put an 
 end to life, yet li we take any at all, it corrupts the 
 
 whole^ 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 139 
 
 whole mafs of blood, and makes it difficult to be reftored 
 to our former health. 
 
 If religion commands an univerfal charity, to love our 
 neighbour as ourfelves, to forgive and pray for all our 
 enemies without any referve ; it is becaufe all degrees of 
 love are degrees of happinefs, that ftrengthen and fupport 
 the divine life of the foul, and are as necelTary 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 treafures upon 
 earth, and commands us to be content M-itii food and 
 raiment ; it is becaufe every other ufe of the v/orld is 
 abufing it to our own vexation, and turning all its con- 
 veniencies into fnares and traps to deitroy us. It is be- 
 caufe this plainnefs and fimplicity of life, fecures us from 
 the cares and pains of reftlels pride and envy, and makes 
 it eafier to keep that Ilrait road that will carry us to e- 
 ternal life. 
 
 If religion faith, Sell that thou hqfl, and give to the 
 poor ; it is becaufe there is no other natural orreaibnable 
 ufe of our riches, no other way of making ourfelves 
 happier for them ; it is becaufe it is as ftricSliy right to 
 give others that which we do not want ourfelves, as it 
 is right to ufe fo much as our own w^ants require. For 
 if a man has more food than his own nature requires, 
 how bafe and unreafonable is it, to invent foolifh ways 
 of wafting it, and make fport for his own full belly, ra- 
 ther than let his fellow-creatures have the fame comfort 
 from food, which he hath had ? It is fo far therefore 
 from being a hard law of religion, 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 av/ay, than in that which he keeps for himfeif ; 
 which teaches him to make fpare food and raiment be 
 greater biefTmgs to him, than that which feeds and cloaths 
 his own body. 
 
 If religion requires us fometimes to faft, and deny our 
 natural appetites, it is to lefien that ftruggie and war 
 that is in our nature ; it is to render our bodies fitter in- 
 ftruments of purity, and more obedient to the good mo- 
 tions of divine grace j it is to dry up the fprings of our 
 paiTions that war againft the foul; to cool the liame of 
 
 our 
 
140 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 our blood, and render the mind more capable of divine 
 meditations. So that although thefe abftinences give 
 fame pain to the body, yet they fo leiTen the power of 
 bodily appetites and paiLons, and fo increafe our tafte of 
 fpiritual joys, thaj: even thefe feverities of religion, when 
 pra61:ifed with difcretion, add much to the comfortable 
 enjoyment of our lives. 
 
 If religion caileth us to a life of watching and prayer,, 
 it is becaufe we live amongil a crowd of enemies, and 
 are always in need of the aififtance of God. If we are 
 to confefs and bewail our fms, it is becaufe fuch con- 
 feffions relieve the mind, and reftore it to eafe ; as bur- 
 <lens 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 petitions, it is to keep us 
 fleady in the fight of our true good, and that we may 
 never want the happinefs of a lively faith, a joyful 
 hope, and well-grounded trufl in God. If we are to 
 pray often, it is that we may be often happy in fuch 
 iecret joys as only prayer can give ', in fuch commu- 
 nications of the divine prefence, as will fill our minds 
 with all the happinefs that beings not in heaven are capa- 
 ble of. ^ 
 
 Was there any thing in the world more worth our 
 care •, was there any exercife of the mind, or any con- 
 verfation with men, tliat turned more to our advantage 
 than this intercourfe 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 retires to devotion, he 
 will find it no fmall happinefs to be fo often relieved 
 from doing nothing, or nothing to the purpofe ; from 
 dull idlenefs, unprofitable labour, or vain converfation. 
 If he confiders, that all that is in the world, and all 
 that is doing in it, is only for the body, and bodily enjoy- 
 snents, he will have reafon to rejoice at thofe hours of 
 prayer, which carry him to higher confolations, which 
 raife him above thefe poor concerns, which open to his 
 mind a fcene of greater things, and accuftom his foul to 
 the hope and expectation of them. 
 
 If religion commands us to live wholly unto God, and 
 to do ail to lii§ gloryj it is becaufe every other way is 
 
 Imng. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. Hi 
 
 living vrholly againft ourfelves, and will end in our own 
 iiiame and contuiion of face. 
 
 As every thing is dark, that God does not enlighten ; 
 as every thing is fenfelefs, that has not its fliare of know- 
 ledge from him j as nothing lives, but by partaking of 
 life from him ; as nothing exlfts, but becaufe he com- 
 mands it to be ; fo there is no glory, or greatnefs, but 
 what is the glory or greatnefs of God. 
 
 We indeed may talk of human glory, as we may talk 
 of human life or human knowledge ; but as we are fure 
 that human life implies nothing of our own, but a de- 
 pendent living in God, or enjoying fo much life in God; 
 io human glory, whenever we find it, mud be only fo 
 much glory as we enjoy in the glory of God. 
 
 This is the ftate of ail creatures, whether men or 
 angels -, as they make not themfelves, fo they enjoy no- 
 thing from themfelves ; if they are great, it muft be 
 only as great receivers of the gifts of God j their power 
 can only be fo much of the divine Power a6ling in 
 them ; their wifdom can be only fo much of the divine 
 Wifdom fhining within them ; and their light and glory, 
 only fo much of the light and glory of God Iliining upon 
 them. 
 
 As they are not men or angels, becaufe they had a 
 mind to be fo themfelves, but becaufe the will of God 
 formed them to be what they are j fo they cannot enjoy 
 this or that happinefs of ven 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 ail ; if his will is thus the meafure of all things,, 
 and all natures j if nothing can be done, but by his pow- 
 er ; if nothing can be feen, but by a light from him j if 
 we have nothing to fear, but from hisjuilice *, if we have 
 nothing to hope for, but from his goodnefs ; if this is 
 the nature of man, thus helplefs in himfelf ; if this is the 
 ftate of all creatures, as well thofe in heaven, as thofe on 
 earth; if they are nothing, can do notliing, can fuffer 
 no pain, nor feel any happinefs, but fo far, and in fuch 
 degrees, as the power of God does all this : if this be 
 the Itate of things, then how can we have the leaft 
 ^limpfe of joy and comfort, hew can we have any peace- 
 ful 
 
142 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ful enjoyment of ourfelves, but by livmg wholly unta 
 that God, ufmg and doing every thing conformably to 
 his will ? A life thus devoted unto God, looking wholly 
 unto him in all our actions, and doing all things fuitably 
 to his glory, is fo far from being dull, and uncomforta- 
 ble, 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 fub- 
 mit to the dull and melancholy 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. {Lordf fays he, / l^neiv thee, that thou art aw 
 hard man, reaping luhere thc;U hadjl iiotfoivn, and gather' 
 ing where thou hadJl n-A Jl rawed. And I was afraid, and 
 luent and hid thy talent in the earth. Lo there thou ha(^ 
 that is thine. Matt. xxv. 24. 
 
 His Lord having convicled him out of his own mouth, 
 difpatches him with this fentence : Caji the unprofitable 
 fervant into utter darknefs ; there Jhall he weeping and 
 gnajhing of teeth. Matt. xxv. 30. 
 
 Here you fee how happy this man made himfelf by 
 not acting wholly according to the Lord's will. It was, 
 according to his own accounr, ahappinefs of murmuring- 
 and difcontent ; I knew thee, fays he, that thou waft 
 an hard man : It was an happinefs of fears and appre- 
 henfions; I v.as, fays he, afraid: it was an happinefs 
 of vain labours and fruitlefs travails : I went, fays he, 
 and hid thy talent ; and after having been a while the 
 fport of foolifh paffions, tormenting fears, and fruitlefs 
 labours, he is rewarded with darknefs, eternal weeping, 
 and gnafliing of teeth. 
 
 Now this is the happinefs of all thofe, who look upon 
 a ftriil and exalted piety, that is, a right ufe of their 
 talent, to be a dull and melancholy ftate of life. 
 
 They may live a while free from the reftraints and 
 dire6iions of religion, but inftead thereof, they muft be 
 under the abfurd government of their paffions : they 
 mult, like the man in the parable, live in niurmurings 
 
 and 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 143 
 
 and difcontents, in fears and apprehenfions. They may 
 avoid the labour of doing good, of fpending their time 
 devoutly, of laying up treafures in heaven, of cloathing 
 the naked, of vifiting the fick ; but then they muft, like 
 this man, have labours and pains in vain, that tend to no 
 ufe or advantage, that do no good either to themfelves, 
 or others ; they muft travail, and labour, and u^ork, and 
 dig to hide their talent in the earth. They mull like him, 
 at the Lord's coming, be convicted out of their ov^ni 
 mouths, be accufed by their own hearts, and have every 
 thing that they have faid and thought of religion, be 
 made to fliew the juftice of their condemnation to eter- 
 nal darknefs, weeping and gnafliing of teeth. 
 
 This the purchafe that they make, w^ho avoid the 
 ftri6lnefs and perfection of religion, in order to live hap- 
 pily. ^ _ 
 
 On the other hand, would you fee a fliort defcription 
 of the happinefs of a life rightly employed, wholly de- 
 voted to God, you mull look at the man in the parabld, 
 to whom his Lord had given five talents. Lord, fays he, 
 thou delivereft unto me five talents : behold, J have gained 
 befides them five talents mere. His Lord faid unto him^ 
 Well done thou good and faithful few ant ; thou had been 
 faithful over afeiv things, I n.vill make thee ruler over many 
 things; efiter thou into the joy of thy Lord. 
 
 Here you fee a life that is wholly intent upon the im- 
 provement of the talents that is devoted wholly unto 
 God, is a (late of happinefs, profperous labours, and glo- 
 rious fuccefs. Here are not, as in the former cafe, any 
 uneafy paflions, murmurings, vain fears, and fruitlefs 
 labours. The man is not toiUng, and digging in the 
 earth for no end or advantage •, but his pious labours 
 profper in his hands, his happinefs increafes upon him, 
 theblefling of five becomes the bleffing of ten talents; 
 and he is received with a Well dene good and faithful fer- 
 vant, e?iter thou into the joy of thy Lord. 
 
 Now as the cafe of thefe men in the parable left no- 
 thing elfe to their choice, but either to be happy in u- 
 fing their gifts to the glory of the Lord, or miferable by 
 ufing them according to their own humours and fancies; 
 fo the itate of Chriftianity leaves us no other choice. 
 All that we have, all that we are, all that we enj-oy, 
 
 ar« 
 
144? A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 are only fo many talents from God : if we ufe them to 
 the ends of a pious and holy life, our five talents will 
 become ten, and our labours will carry us into the joy 
 of our Lord ; but if we abufe them to the gratifications 
 of our own paflions, facrificing the gifts of God to our 
 own pride and vanity, we fliall live here in vain labours 
 and fooiifh anxieties, Ihunning religion as a melancholy 
 thing, accufmg our Lord as a hard mailer, and then fall 
 into everlafting mifery. 
 
 We may for a while amufe ourfelves with names, and 
 founds, and fhadows of happinefs ; we may talk of this 
 or that greatnefs and dignity ; but if we defire real hap- 
 pinefs, we have no other poiTible way to it, but by im- 
 proving our talents, by fo holily and piouily ufing the 
 powers and faculties of men in this prefent Hate, that 
 we maybe happy and glorious in the powers and facul- 
 ties of angels in the world to come. 
 
 How ignorant therefore are they of the nature of re- 
 ligion, of the nature of man, and the nature of God, who 
 think a life of ftri£l piety and devotion to Godj to be a 
 dull and uncomfortable ftate ; when it is fo plain and 
 certain, that there is neither comfort or joy to be found 
 in any thing elfe ? 
 
 CHAP. XIL 
 
 T^e happhnfs of a life tuholly devoted unto Gody farther 
 proved, from the vanity, the fenfuaiity, and //'^'ridicu- 
 lous, poor enjoyment s.^ nvhich they are forced to take up 
 *ivithy nvho live according to their oivn humours^ This re- 
 prejented in various characters, 
 
 WE may Hill fee more of the happinefs of a life de- 
 voted unto God, by confulering the poor con- 
 trivances for happinefs, and the contemptible ways of 
 Jife, which th^y are thrown into, who are not under the 
 directions of a llridl piety, but feeking after happinefs 
 by other methods. 
 
 If one looks at their lives, who live by no rule but 
 
 their 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. .145 
 
 their own humours and fancies; if one fees but what it 
 is, which they call joy, and greatnefs, and happinefs; if 
 one fees how they rejoice and repent, change and ily 
 from one delufion to another j one iliall find great reafon 
 to rejoice, that God hath appointed a ftrait and narrow- 
 way that leadeth unto Hfe, and that we are not left to 
 the foily of our own minds, or forced to take up with 
 fuch (liadows of joy and happinefs, as the weaknefs and 
 folly of the world has invented. I fay invented, becaufe 
 thofe things which make up the joy and happinefs of 
 this v/orid, are mere inventions, which have no founda- 
 tion in nature and reafon, are no way the proper good 
 or happinefs of man, no way perfect either in 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 raifmg himfelf to fame imagi- 
 nary heights above other people j this is truly an inven- 
 tion of happinefs which has no foundation in nature, 
 but is as mere a cheat of our own making, as if a man 
 fhould intend to make himfelf happy by climbing up a 
 ladder. 
 
 If a woman feeks for a happinefs from fine colours or 
 fpots upon her face, from jewels and rich cloaths, this is 
 as merely an invention of happinefs, as contrary to na- 
 ture and reafon, as if (lie fhould propofe to make herfelf 
 happy, by painting a poll, and putting the fame fineiy 
 upon it. It is in this refpecl that I call thefe joys and 
 happinefs of the world, mere inventions of happinefs, 
 becaufe neither God, nor nature, nor reafon hath ap- 
 pointed them as fuch ; but whatever appears joyful, or 
 great, or happy in them, is entirely created or invented 
 by the blindnefs and vamty of our own minds. 
 
 And it is on thefe inventions of happinefs, that I de- 
 fire you to caft your eye, that you may thence iearn, 
 how great a good religion is, which delivers you from 
 fuch a multitude of follies and vain purfuits, as are tha 
 torment and vexation of minds, that wander from their 
 true happinefs in God. 
 
 Look at Flatus, and learn how miferable they are^ 
 v/ho are left to the folly of their own palhons. 
 
 Flatus is rich and in health, yet always uneafy, and 
 always fearching after happinefs. Every time you vifit 
 
146 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 him, you find feme new project 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 pait. 
 Every new thing fo feizes him, that if you was to take 
 him from it, he would think himfelf quite undone. His 
 fanguine temper, and flrong paflions, promife him fo 
 much happinefs in every thing, that he is always cheat- 
 ed, and is fatished with nothing. 
 
 At his firll: fetting out in hfe, fine cloaths was his 
 delight, his enquiry was only after the beft taylors and 
 peruke-makers, and he had no thoughts of excelling in 
 any thing but drefs. He fparedno expence, but carried 
 every nicety to its greateft height. But this happinefs 
 not anfwering his expectations, he left off his brocades, 
 put on a plain coat, railed at fops and beaux, and gave 
 himfelf up to gaming with great eagernefs. 
 
 This new pleafurefatisfied him for fome time, he en- 
 vied no other way of life. But being by the fate of 
 play drawn into a duel, where he narrowly efcaped his 
 death, he left off the dice, and fought for happinefs no 
 longer amongft the gamelters. 
 
 The next thing that feized his wandering imagination, 
 was the diverfions of the town : and for more than a 
 twelvemonth, you heard him talk of nothing but ladies; 
 drawing-rooms, birth-nights, plays, balls, and afiem- 
 i;iies. But growing fick of thefe, he had recourfe 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 itaif, and looking out no 
 farther^ but unluckily falling into a fever he grew angry 
 at all ftrong liquors, and took his leave of the happinefs 
 of being drunk. 
 
 The next attempt after happinefs, carried him into the 
 field, for two or three years nothing was fo happy as 
 hunting; he entered upon it Vv'ith all his foul, and leaped 
 more hedges and ditches than had ever been known in fo 
 fnort a time. You never faw him but in a green coat ; 
 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 acci- 
 dents of the laft noble chafe. No fooner had Flatus out- 
 done 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 147 
 
 done all the world In the breed and education of his 
 dogs, built new kennels, new (lables, 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 was for fome time after deep 
 in the pleafures of building. 
 
 . Now he invents new kind of dove-cotes, and has fuch 
 contrivances in his barns and ftables, as were never feen 
 » before : he wonders at the dulnefs of the old builders, is 
 wholly bent upon the improvement of architecSture, 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 hfej that he has more happinefs amongit his brick 
 and mortnr, than ever he had at court; and that he is 
 contriving how to have fome little matter to do that way 
 as long as he lives. 
 
 The next year he leaveshis houfeunnnifhed, complain? 
 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 fo 
 highly delighted with this new way of life, that he 
 would tell you, give him but his horfe and a clean coun- 
 try to ride in, and you might take all the reft to your- 
 felf. A variety of new faddles and bridles, and a great 
 change of horfes, added much to the pleafure of this 
 new way of life. But however, having after fome time 
 tired both himfelf and his horfes, the happieft thing he 
 could think of next, was to go abroad and vifit foreign 
 countries ; and there indeed happinefs exceeded his 
 imagination, and he was only uneafy that he had begun 
 fo fine a life no fooner. The next month he returned 
 home, unable to bear any longer the impertinence of 
 foreigners. 
 
 After this, he was a great ftudent for one v/hole year; 
 he was up early and late at his Italian grammar, that he 
 might have the happinefs of underilanding the opera, 
 whenever he fliould hear one, and not be like thofe un- 
 reafonable people, that are pleafed with they don't know 
 what. 
 
 Flatus is very ill-natured, or otherwife, juft as his af- 
 fairs happen to be when you vifit him ; if you find him 
 when fome project is alipoft wore out, you will find a 
 
 peevifti 
 
148 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 peevifli ill-bred man ; but if you had feen him jufl as he 
 entered upon his riding regimen, or begun to excel in 
 founding of the horn, you had been faluted with great 
 civility. 
 
 Flatus is now at a full fland, and is doing what 
 he never did in his life before, he is reafoning and re*- 
 flediing with himfelf. He lofes leveral days, in con- 
 fidering which of his caft-off ways of life he fliould try- 
 again. 
 
 But here a new prcje^l comes in to his relief. He is 
 ncv/ living upon herbs, and running about the country, 
 to get himfelf into as good wind as any running footman 
 in the kingdom. 
 
 I have been thus circumflantial in fo many foolifh 
 particulars of this kind, becaufe I hope, that every par- 
 ticular folly that you fee here, will naturally turn itfelf 
 into an argument for the wifdom and happinefs of a re- 
 ligious life. 
 
 If I could lay before you a particular account of all 
 the circum fiances of terror and diflrefs, that daily attend 
 a life at fea, the nrtore particular I was in the account, 
 the more I ftould make you feel and rejoice in the hap- 
 pinefs of living upon the land. 
 
 In like manner, the more I enumerate the follies, 
 anxieties, delufions, and reftlefs defires which go thro* 
 every part of a life devoted to human paflions, and 
 worldly enjoymiCnts, the more you muft be affected 
 with that peace, and reft, and folid content, which re- 
 ligion gives to the fouls of men. 
 
 If you had but juft caft your eye upon a madman, or 
 a fool, it perhaps Signifies little or nothing to you ; but 
 if you was to attend them for fome days, and obferve 
 the lamentable madnefs and ftupidity of all their anions, 
 this would be an afFe^ling fight, and would make you 
 often blefs yourfelf for the enjoyment of your reafou 
 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 impreflion upon you ; but if you are 
 Ihewn how fuch people live every day ; if you fee the 
 continual folly and m.adnefs of all their particular ac- 
 tions and defjgns, this would be an affeding fight, and 
 
 make 
 
DEVOUT AND MOLY LIFE. l49 
 
 make you blefs God, for having given you a greater 
 happinefs to afpire after. 
 
 So that chara6lers of this kind, the more folly and 
 ridicule they have in them, provided that they be but 
 natural, are mofb ufeful to correct our minds-, and there- 
 fore are no vidiere more proper than in books of devotion, 
 and practical piety. And as in feveral cafes we bcft learn 
 the nature of things, by looking at that which is con- 
 trary to them ; fo perhaps we bell apprehend the excel- 
 lency of wifdom, by contemplating the wild extrava- 
 gances of folly. 
 
 I iliali therefore continue this method a little far- 
 ther, and endeavour to recommend the happinefs of 
 piety to you; by fliewing you in fome other inilan- 
 ees, how miferably and poorly they live, who live with- 
 out it. 
 
 But you will perhaps fay, that the ridiculous, reftlefs 
 life of Flatus, is not the common ftate of thofe who re- 
 iign themfelves up to live by their own humours, and 
 negled the ftrict rules of religion; and that therefore it 
 is not fo 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 mod ge- 
 neral charadlers in life; and that few people can read 
 it, M^thout feeing fomething in it that belongs to- them- 
 felves. For v/here fliall we fnid that wife and happy 
 man, who has not been eagerly purfuing diiTerent ap- 
 pearances of happinefs, fometimes thinking it was here, 
 and fjmetimes there? 
 
 And if people were to divide their lives into particular 
 ftages, and aik themfelves what they were purfuing, or 
 •\\'hat it was which they had chiefly in view, when they 
 v/as tVv^enty years old, what at twenty-five, what at thir- 
 ty, what at forty, what at iif^ty, and fo on, till they were 
 brought to their laft bed ; numbers of people would find, 
 •that they had liked and diiliked, and purfued as many 
 different appearances of happinefs, as are to be feen in 
 the life of Flatus. 
 
 And thus it muft necefiarily be, more or lefs with all 
 thofe who propofe any other happinefs, than that which 
 arifes from a itricf and regular piety. 
 
 But fecondly, Let it be granted, that the generality 
 G of 
 
150 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 of people are not of fuch reflleis, fickle tempers as Fh- 
 tus; the difference then is only this, Flatus is continually 
 changing and trying fomething new, but odievs are 
 content with fome one ftate -, they do not leave gaming, 
 and then fall to hunting. But they have fo much ftea- 
 dinefs in their tempers, that fome feek after no other 
 bappinefsj but that of heaping up riches ; others grow 
 old m the fports of the field; others are content to drink 
 themfelves to death, without the leail enquiry after any 
 other happinefs. 
 
 Now is there any thing more happy or reafonable, in 
 fuch a life as this, than in the life of Flatus? Is it not as 
 great and defirable, 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, a gamefter, or 
 a drunkard all your life ? 
 
 Shall religion be looked upon as a burden, as a dull 
 and melancholy ftate, for calling men from fuch happi- 
 nefs as this, to live according to the laws of God, to 
 labour after the perfection of their nature, and prepare 
 themfelves for an endiefs ftate of joy and glory in the 
 prefence of God ? 
 
 But turn your eyes now another way, and let the 
 trifling joys, the gewgaw happinefs of Feliciana, teach 
 you how wife they are, what delufion they efcape, 
 whofe hearts and hopes are fixed upon an happinefs in 
 God. 
 
 If you was to live with Feliciana but one half year, 
 ■550U would fee all the happinefs that ihe is to have as 
 long as fhe lives. She has no more to come, but the 
 poor repetition of that which could never have pleafed 
 once, but through a littlenefs of mind, and want of 
 thought. 
 
 She is again to be drcfied fine, and keep her vifiting 
 day. She is again to change the colour of her cloatlis, 
 again to have a new head, and again put patches on 
 her face. She is again to fee who acts 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 no- 
 thing. 
 
 She is to be again delighted with fome new fafhion; 
 
 and 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 151 
 
 and again angry at the change of fome old one. She 
 is to be agam at cards, and gaming at midnight, and 
 again in bed at noon. She is to be again pleafed with 
 hypocritical compliments, and again difturbed with 
 imaginary affronts. She is to be again pleafed with her 
 good luck at gaming, and again tormented with the lofs 
 of her money. She is again to prepare herfelf for a 
 birth-night, and again fee the town full of good com- 
 pany. She is again to bear the cabals and intrigues of 
 the town, again to have fecret intelligence of private 
 amours, and early notice of marriages, quarrels, and 
 partings. 
 
 If you fee her come out of her chariot more briikly 
 than ufual, converfe with more fpirit, and feem fuller 
 of joy than f?ie was lad week, it is becaufe there is 
 fome furprizing new drefs, or new diverfion juft come 
 to town. 
 
 Thefe are all the fubflantial and regular parts of Feli- 
 ciana's happinefs •, and Ihe never knew a pleafant day 
 in her life, but it was owing to fome 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 cheerful to corJ.lder what is right or wrong 
 in regard to eternity ; or to liiiien to the found of fucli 
 dull words, as wifdom, piety and devotion. 
 
 It is for fear of lofmg fome of this happinefs, that 
 fhe dares not meditate on the immortality of her foul, 
 confider her relation to God, or turn her thoughts to- 
 wards thofe joys, which m«ke faints and angels infinite- 
 ly happy in the prefence and glory of God. 
 
 But now let it here be obferved, that as poor a round 
 of happinefs as this appears, yet mod women that avoid 
 the redraints of religion for a gay life, mud be content 
 with very fmall parts of it. As they have not Feliciana's 
 fortune and figure in the world, fo they mud give away 
 the comforts of a pious life, for a very fmall part ot her 
 happinefs. 
 
 And if you look into the world, and obferve the lives 
 of thofe women, whom no argumerits can pcrfuade to 
 live wholly unto God, in a wife and pious employment 
 of themfeives, you will find mod of them to be fuch, 
 
 G 2 as 
 
152 ,ft SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 as lofe all the comforts of religion, without gainiug the 
 tenth part of Feliciana's happinefs. They are fuch as 
 fpcnd their time and fortunes only in mimicking the 
 pleafures of richer people ; and rather look and long af- 
 ter, than enjoy thofe delufions, which are only to be pur- 
 chafed by confiderable fortunes. 
 
 But if a women of high birth, and great fortune, ha- 
 ving read the gofpel, fliould rather wifli to be an under 
 fervant in fome pious family, where wifdom, piety, and 
 great devotion, dire£led all the actions of every day: if 
 ihe fliould rather wifli this, than to live at the top of Fe- 
 liciana's happinefs : I fhould think her neither mad, nor 
 inelancholy ; but that flie judged as rightly of the fpirit 
 cf the gofpel, as if (lie had rather wifned to be poor 
 JLazanis at the gfltCy than to be the rich man cloathed in 
 purple and fine linen, and faring fumptuoujly every day. 
 
 But to proceed: Would you know what an happinefs 
 it is, to be governed by the wifdom of religion, and be 
 devoted to the joys and hopes of a pious life, look at the 
 poor condition of Succus, whofe greateit happinefs, is a 
 good night's reil in bed, and a good meal when he is up. 
 When he talks of happinefs, it is always in fuch exprcf- 
 fions, as fliews you, that he has only his bed and his din- 
 ner in his thoughts. 
 
 This regard to his meals and repofe, makes Succus 
 order all the rell cf his time with relation to them. He 
 will undertake no bufinefs that may hurry his fpirits, or 
 break in upon his hours of eating and rclt. If he reads, 
 it fliall only be for half an hour, becaufe that is fuilicient 
 to amufe the fpirits; and he will read fomcthing 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 in- 
 dulge a grave thought, he always has recourfe to a ufe- 
 ful treatife upon the ancient cookery. Succus is an ene- 
 my to all party matters, having made it an obfervation, 
 that there is as good eating amongft the whigs as the 
 tories. 
 
 He talks cooly and moderately upon all fubje^ts, and 
 is as fearful of falling into a pafhon, as of catching cold; 
 being very pofitive, that they are both equally injurious 
 to the fiomach. If you ever fee him more hot than or- 
 dinary, as is upon fome provoking occafion, when the 
 
 difpute 
 
I>EVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 153 
 
 *llfpute about cookery runs very high, or In the defence 
 of fome beloved difli, w^hich lias often made him happy. 
 But he has been fo long upon thefe fubjecfs, is (o well 
 acquainted with all that can be faid on both fides, and 
 hiis fo often anfwered all obje6lions, that he generally 
 decides the matter with great gravity, 
 
 Succus is very loyal, and as foon as ever he likes any 
 wine, he drinks the king's health with all his heart. No- 
 thing coald put rebellious thoughts into his head, unlefs 
 he Ihould live to fee a proclamation againil eating of 
 pheafant's eggs. 
 
 All the hours that are not devoted either to repofe, or 
 nouriftiinent, are looked upon by Succus as walle orfpare 
 time. For this reafon he lodges near a coffee-houfe and 
 a tavern, that when he rifes in the morning, he may hear 
 the news, and when he parts at night, he may not 
 have far to bed. In the morning you always fee him iu 
 the fame place in the coffee-room, and if he feems more 
 attentively engaged than ordinary, it is becaufe fome 
 criminal is broke out of Nev.'gate, or fome lady was rob- 
 bed lafl night, but they cannot tell where. When he has 
 learned all that he can, he goes home to fettle the mat- 
 ter Vvdth the barber's boy, that comes to fiiave him. 
 
 The next wafte time that lies upon his hands, is from 
 dinner to fupper. And if melancholy thoughts ever 
 come into his head, it is at this time, when he is often 
 left to himfelf for an hour or more, and that after the 
 greateft pleafure he knows is juil over. He is afraid to 
 fleep, becaufe he has heard it is not healthful at that 
 time, fo that he is forced to refufe fo welcome a gueif. 
 
 But here he is foon relieved by a fettled method of 
 playing at cards, till it is time to think of fome little nice 
 matter for fupper. 
 
 After this, Succus takes his glafs, talks of the excel- 
 lency of the Englifii confiitution, and praifes that mini- 
 iter the moil, who keeps the bell: table. 
 
 On a Sunday night you may fometimes hear him con- 
 demning the iniquity of the town rakes; and the bittereft 
 thing that he fays againil them, is this, that he verily 
 believes fome of them are fo abandoned, as not to have 
 a regular meal, or a found night's fieep in a week. • 
 
 At eleven, Succus bids all good night, and parts in 
 G 3 g"eat 
 
154} A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 great friendfhip. He is prefently 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 twelvemonth, 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 reflection : 
 
 That as I believe the moil likely means in the world 
 to infpire a perfon with true piety, was to have feen the 
 example of fome eminent profellor of religion; fo the 
 next thing that is likely to fill one with the fame zeal, is 
 to fee the folly, thebafenefs, and poor fatisfaftions of a 
 life deilitute of religion. As the one exercifes us to love 
 and admire the wifdom and greatnefs of religion, fo the 
 other may make us fearful of living without it. 
 
 For who can help bleifing God for the means of grace, 
 and for the hope of glory, when he fees what variety of 
 folly they fmk into, who live without it } Who would 
 not heartily engage in all the labours and exercifes of a 
 pious life, be lledfaft, immoveable, and always abounding 
 in the work of the Lord ; when he fees what dull fenfu- 
 ality, what poor views, what grofs enjoyments they are 
 left to who feek for happinefs in other ways. 
 
 So that whether we confidcr the greatnefs of religion, 
 or the littlenefs of all other things, and the meannefs of 
 all other enjoyments, there is nothing to be found in the 
 whole nature of things for a thoughtful mind to reft 
 upon, but a happinefs in the hopes of religion. 
 
 Confider now with yourfelf how unreafonably it is 
 pretended, that a life of ftri6): piety mull be a dull and 
 anxious (late ? For can it with any reafon be faid, that 
 the duties and reilraints of religion muil render our lives 
 heavy and melancholy, when they only deprive us of 
 fucli happinefs, as has been here laid before you ? 
 
 Mull it be tedious and tirefome to live in the continual 
 ^xercife of charity, devotion and temperance, to a6t 
 wifely and virtuoufly, to do good to the utmoil of youi* 
 power, to imitate the divine perfeclions, and prepare 
 yourfelf for the enjoyment of God ? Muil it be dull and 
 tirefome, to be delivered from blindnefs and vanity, from 
 falfe iiopes and vain fears, to improve in holinefs, to feel 
 the comforts of confcience in all your a6lions, to know 
 that God is your friend, that all mull werk for your 
 
 goods 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 155 
 
 good, that neither life nor death, neither men nor devils 
 can do you any harm ; but that all your fufFerings and 
 doings, that are offered unto God, all your watchings 
 and prayers, and labours of love and charity, all your im- 
 provements, are in a fliort time to be rewarded wit!- e- 
 verlailing glory in the prefence of God ; mud fuch a 
 ftate as this be dull and tirefome for v^^ant of fuch hap- 
 pinefs, as Flatus or Feliciana enjoys ? 
 
 Now if this cannot be faid, then there is no happinefs 
 or pleafare loft, by being ftrictly pious, nor has the de- 
 vout man any thing to envy in any other Itate of life. 
 For all the art and contrivance in the world, without 
 religion, cannot make more of human life, or carry its 
 happinefs to any greater height, than Flatus or Felicia- 
 na have done. 
 
 The fineft wit, the greateft genius upon earth, if not 
 governed by religion, muft be as fooliih, and low, and 
 vain in his methods of happinefs, as the poor Succus. 
 
 If you was to fee a man dully endeavouring all his 
 life to fatisfy his thirft, by holding up one and the fame 
 empty cup to his mouth, you would certainly defpife his 
 ignorance. 
 
 But if you fhould fee others of brighter parts, and 
 finer underftandings, ridiculing the dull fatisfaftion of 
 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 wifer, or happier, or better em- 
 ployed, for their fmer parts ? 
 
 Now this is all the difference that you can fee in the 
 happinefs of this life. 
 
 The dull and heavy foul may be content with one 
 empty appearance of happinefs, and be continually try- 
 ing to hold one and the fame empty cup to his mouth 
 ail his life. But then, let the wit, the great fcholar, the 
 fine genius, the great ftatefman, the polite gentleman, 
 lay all their he..ds together, and they can only fhew yoa 
 more, and various, empty appearances of happinefs-, give 
 them ail 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 do not think it hard to be deprived of 
 
 ^he pleafures of gluttony for the fake of religion, you 
 
 G 4 have 
 
156 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 have no reafon to think it hard to be reftrained from any 
 other worldly pleafure. For fearch as deep, and look as 
 far as you will, there is nothing here to be found, that 
 38 nobler or greater than high eating and drinking, un- 
 lefs you look for it in the wifdom and laws of reli- 
 gion. 
 
 And if all that is in the world, are only fo many emp- 
 ty cups, what does it fignify, which you take, or how 
 many you take, or how many you have? 
 
 If you would but ufe yourfelf to fuch meditations as 
 thefe, to reflect upon the vanity of all orders of life with- 
 out piety, to confider how all the ways of the world, 
 are fo many different ways or error, blindnefs, and mif- 
 take ; you would foon find your heart made wifer and 
 better by it. Thefe meditations Vv'ouid awaken your 
 foul into a zealous denre of that folid happinefs, which 
 is only to be found in recourfe to God. 
 
 Examples of great piety are not nov/ common in the 
 v/orldj it may not be your happinefs to live within fight 
 of any, or to have your virtue inflamed by their light 
 and fervour. But the mifery and folly of worldly men 
 is what meets your eyes in every place, and you need 
 not look far to fee, how poorly, how vainly men dream 
 away their lives for want of religious wifdom. 
 
 This is the reafon that I have laid before you fo many- 
 characters 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, though not by the fight of what 
 piety is, yet by feeing what mifery and folly reigns, 
 where piety is not. 
 
 If you would turn your mind to fuch refle6fions as 
 thefe, your own obfervation would carry this inilrudion 
 much farther, and all your converfation and acquaint- 
 ance with the world, would be a daily conviftion to you,. 
 cf the necefhty of ieeking fome greater happinefs, than 
 ail the poor enjoyments this world can give. 
 
 To meditate upon the perfe6lion of the divine attri- 
 butes, to contemplate the glories of heaven, to confider 
 the joys of faints and angels living for ever in the bright- 
 nefs and glory of the divine prefence ; thefe are the me- 
 ditations of fouls advanced in piety, and not fo fuited to 
 
 every capacity. 
 
 But 
 
DEVOUT AND FIOLY LIFE. 157 
 
 Bat to fee and confider the emptinefs and error of all 
 worldly happinefs ; to fee the grolTaefs of feafaality, the 
 poornefs of pride, the ftupidity of covetoufnefs, the va- 
 nity of drefs, the delufion of honour, the blindnefs of our 
 paifions, the uncertainty of our lives, and the fliortnefs 
 of all worldly projects ; thefe are meditations that are 
 fuited to all capacities, fitted to flrike all minds ; they 
 require no depth of thought to fublime fpeculation, but 
 are forced upon us by all our fenfes, and taught us by 
 almoit every thing that we fee and hear. 
 
 This is that w'lfdom that crieth^ and 
 putteth forth her voice in the Jireets, that Prov. viii. 1. 
 tlandeth at all our doors, that appealeth 
 to all our fenfes, teaching us in every thing and every- 
 where, by all that we fee, and all that we hear, by births 
 and burials, by ficknefs 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 
 tlie hopes and expe£lations of religion. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 That not only a life ^vanity or fenfuality, but even the 
 moft regular kind of life, that is not governed by great 
 devotion, fufficiently Jbeivs its miferies its wants, and 
 emptinefs, to the eyes of all the world. This reprefented 
 in various characters, 
 
 IT Is a very remarkable faying of our Lord and Savi- 
 our to his difciples in thefe words : Biffed are your 
 eyes for they fee, and your ears for they hear. They teach, 
 us two things ; Firft, That the dulnefs and heavinefs of 
 men's minds, with regafd to fpiritual matters, is fo great, 
 that it may juftly be compared to the want of eyes and 
 ears. 
 
 Seo ndly, That God has fo filled every thing and 
 
 every place with motives and arguments for a godly life, 
 
 G 5 that 
 
158 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 that they who are but fo blefTetl, fo happy as to ufe their 
 eyes and their ears, mud needs be afFe6i:ed with them. 
 
 Now, though this was in a more efpecial manner the 
 cafe of thofe whofe fenfes were witneiies of the life and 
 miracles and do6frines of our biefl'ed Lord ; yet it is as 
 truly the cafe of all Chriftians at this time. For the 
 reafons of religion, the calls to piety are fo written and 
 engraved upon every thing, and prefent themfelves fo 
 ilrongly and fo conflantly to all our fenfes in every thing 
 that we meet •, tliat they can only be difregarded by eyes 
 that fee not, and ears that hear not. 
 
 What greater motive to a religious life, than the vanity, 
 the poornefs 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 croiTes, and vexations of this life; 
 and ye'c whofe eyes and ears are not daily witnefles of 
 them ! 
 
 What miracles could more (Irongly appeal to our 
 fenfes, or what meflage from heaven fpeak louder to us, 
 than the daily dying and departure of our fellow crea- 
 tures does ? 
 
 So that the one thing needful, or the great end of life, 
 is not left to be difcovered by fine reafoning, and deep 
 refle6i:ions ; but is preffed upon us in the plaineff man- 
 ner, by the experience 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 wifdom and inftru6lion to us; 
 ;^,11 that is regular in the order of nature, all that is ac- 
 cidental in tlie courfe of things, all the miftakes and dif- 
 appointments that happens to ourfelves, all the miferies 
 and errors that we fee in other people, become fo many 
 plain leilbns of advice to us ; teaching us with as much 
 i»fiurance as an angel from heaven, that we can no ways 
 raife ourfelves to any true happinefs, but by turning all 
 our thoughts, our wiihes, and endeavours, after the hap- 
 pinefs 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 
 fr.ape of human folly, that you may thence draw frefli 
 
 argu* 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 159 
 
 arguments and motives of living to thebeft andgreatell 
 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 religion, from the littlenefs 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 perfon, a frefh proof of their wif- 
 dom, who chufe to live wholly unto God. You would 
 then often return home, the wifer, the better, and the 
 more ftrengthened in religion, by every thing that has 
 fallen in your way. 
 
 Oclavius is a learned, ingenious man, well verfed ia 
 moft parts of literature, and no Itranger to any kingdom 
 in Europe. The other day, being juit recovered from a 
 lingering fever, he took upon him to talk thus to his 
 friends. 
 
 My glafs, fays he, is almod run out ; and your eyes 
 fee how many marks of age and death I bear about me : 
 But I plainly feel myfelf finking av/ay fader than any 
 ftaiiders-by imagine. I fully believe, that one year more 
 will conclude my reckoning. 
 
 The attention of his friends was much raifed by fuch 
 a declaration, expecting to hear fomething truly excel- 
 lent from fo learned a man, who liad but a year longer 
 to live. When Oclavius proceeded in this manner : 
 For thefe reafons, fiys he, my friends, I have left off all 
 taverns, the wine of thofe places is not good enough for 
 me in this decay of nature. I muil now be nice in what 
 I drink; I can't pretend to do as I have done; and there- 
 fore am refolved to furnifii my own cellar with a fittle 
 of the very belt, though it coit me ever fo much. 
 
 I muil ah'b tell you, my friends, that age forces a 
 man to be wife in many other refpecbs, and makes us 
 change many of our opinions and pradlices. 
 
 You know how much I have liked a large acquaint- 
 ance : I nov/ condemn it as an error. Three or four 
 chearful, diverting companions, is ail that I now defire ; 
 becaufe I find that in miy prefent infirmities, if I am left 
 alone, or to grave company, I am not fo eafy to my- 
 felf. 
 
 A few days after O^tavius had made this declaration 
 G 6 to 
 
160 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 to his friends, he relapfed into his former lUnefs, was 
 committed to a nurfe, who clofed his eyes before his frefli 
 parcel of wine came in. 
 
 Young Eugenius, who was prefent at this difcourfe, 
 went home a new man, w-ith full refolutions of devoting 
 himfelf wholly unto God. 
 
 I never, fays Eugenius, was fo deeply afFe£led with 
 the wifdom and importance of religion, as when I faw 
 how poorly and meanly the learned O^tavius was to leave 
 the world through the want of it. 
 
 How often had I envied his great learning, his fKill in 
 language, his knowledge of antiquity, his, addrefs, and 
 fine manner of exprefiing himfelf upon all fubjedls! But 
 when I hw how poorly it all ended, Vv^hat was to be the 
 lafl year of fuch a life, and how foolifhly the mafter of 
 all thefe accomplifhments was then forced to talk, for 
 want of being acquainted with the joys and expedtations 
 of piety : I was thoroughly convinced, that there was 
 nothing to be envied or defired, but a life of true piety : 
 nor anything fo poor and comforilefs, as a death with- 
 out it. 
 
 Now as the young Eugenius was thus edified and in- 
 {lru£led in the prefent cafe ; fo if you are fo happy as to 
 have any thing of his thoughtful temper, you will meet 
 v/ith variety of inflru^lion of this kind 5 you will find 
 that arguments for the wifdom and happinefs of a flri£l: 
 piety^ offer themfelves in all places, and appeal to all 
 your fenfes in the plained m.anner. 
 
 You will find, that all the world preaches to an at- 
 tentive mind ; and that if you^have but ears to hear, al- 
 moft every thing you meet, teaches you fome lefTon of 
 wifdom. 
 
 But nov/, if to thefe admonitions and inftruftions, 
 which we receive from cur fenfes, from an experience 
 of the ftate of human life ; if to thefe we add the lights 
 of religion, thofe great truths which the fon of God has 
 taught us ♦, it will be then as much paft all doubt, that 
 there is but one happinefs for man, as that there is but 
 one God. 
 
 For fince religion teaches us that our fouls are im- 
 mortal, that piety and devotion will carry them to an 
 eternal enjoyment of Godj and that c^rnal^ worldly 
 
 tempers 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 161 
 
 tempers will fink them into an everlafting mifery with 
 damned fpirits ; what grofs nonfenfe and ftupiditj'- is it 
 to give the name of joy or happ'nefs to any thing bat 
 that which carries us to this joy and happinefs in God ? 
 
 Was all to die with our bodies, there might be fome 
 pretence for thofe different forts of happinefs, that are 
 fo much talked of: but fince our all beghis at the death 
 of our bodies ; fince all men are to be immortal either 
 in mifery or happinefs, in a world entirely different from 
 this ; fince they are all haftening hence at all uncertain- 
 ties, as fad as death can cut them dov/n ; fome^in fick- 
 nefs, fome in health, fome fleeping, fome waking, fome 
 at midnight, others at cock-crowing, and all at hours 
 that they know not of; is it not certain that no man can 
 exceed another in joy and happinefs, but fo far as he 
 exceeds him in thofe virtues which fit him for a happier 
 death ? 
 
 Cognatus is a fober, regular clergyman, of good re- 
 pute in the world, and well eiteemed in his parifh. All 
 his parifliioners fay he is an honelt man, and very no- 
 table at making a bargain. Tfce farmers liften to him 
 with great attention, when he talks of the properelt time 
 of felling corn. 
 
 He has been for twenty years a diligent obferver of 
 markets, and has raifed a connderable fortune by good 
 management. 
 
 Cognatus is very orthodox and full of efteem for our 
 Englifh Liturgy ; and if he has not prayers on Wednef- 
 days and Fridays, it is becaufe his predeceflbr had not 
 ufed the'parifh to any fuch cultom. 
 
 As he cannot fer^e both his livings himfelf, fo he 
 makes ic matter of confcience to keep a fober 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 all his time ; but 
 flill he has had the uneafinefs and vexations that they 
 have, who are deep in worldly bufinefs. Taxes, lofTes, 
 crofTes, bad mortgages, bad tenants, and the hardnefs of 
 the times, are frequent fubje6ls of his converfation; and a 
 good or a bad feafon has a great efFedl upon his fpirits. 
 
 Cognatus has no other end in growing rich, but that 
 
 he 
 
162 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 he may leave a confiderable fortune to a niece, whom 
 he has politely educated in expenfive finery, by what he 
 has faved out of the tythes of two livings. 
 
 The neighbours look upon Cognatus as an happy 
 clergyman, becaufe they fee him (as they call it) in 
 good circumftances •, and fome of them intend to dedi- 
 cate their own fons to the church, becaufe they fee how 
 well it has fucceeded with Cognatus, whofe father was 
 but an ordinary man. 
 
 But now if Cognatus when he firft entered into holy 
 orders, had perceived how abfurd a thing it is to grow 
 rich by the gofpel : if he had propofed to himfelf the 
 example of fome primitive father ; if he had had the 
 piety of the great St Aultin in his eye, who durfl not 
 enrich any of his relations out of the revenue of the 
 Church : if, inflead of twenty years care to lay up trea- 
 fures upon earth, he had diilributed the income of every 
 year in the moft chriftian a£ts of charity and compaf- 
 fion. 
 
 If, indead of tempting his niece to be proud, and pro- 
 viding her with fuch ornaments, as the Apoftle forbids, 
 he had cloathed, comforted, and aflifted numbers of 
 widows, orphans, and diftrelied, who were all to appear 
 for him at the lalt day. 
 
 If, inilead of the cares and anxieties of bad bonds, 
 troublefome mortgages and ill bargains, he had had the 
 confiant comfort of knowing that his treafure was fe- 
 curely laid up, where neither moth corrupteth, nor 
 thieves break through and (leal •, could it with any rea- 
 fon be faid, that he had millaken the fpirit and dignity 
 of his order, or lefiened any of that happinefs which is 
 to be found in his facred employments ? 
 
 If, inftead of rejoicing in the happinefs of a fecond 
 living, he had thought it as unbecoming the office of a 
 clergyman to traffic for gain in holy things, as to open 
 a fhop. 
 
 If he had thought it better to recommend fome honeft 
 labour to hio niece, than to fupport her in idienefs by 
 the labours of a curate ; better that flie fuould want fine 
 clothes ai.d a richhulband, than the cures of fouls fhould 
 be farmed ^bout, and brocher clergymen not fuffered to 
 live by thofe altars^ at which they ferve, li this had 
 
 been 
 
DEVOUT AKD HOLY LIFE. 163 
 
 been the fpirit of Cognatus, could it with any reafon be 
 faid, that thefe rules of religion, this ilriclnels of piety, 
 had robbed Cognatus of any real happinefs ? Could it 
 be faid, that a life thus governed by the fpirit of the gof- 
 pel, muft be dull and melancholy, if compared to that 
 of railing a fortune for a niece ? 
 
 Now as this cannot be faid in the prefent cafe, fo in 
 every other kind of life, if you enter into the particulars 
 of it, you will find, that however eafy and profperous it 
 may feem, yet you cannot add piety to any part of it, 
 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. 
 
 Negotius is a temperate honed man. He ferved his 
 time under a mafter of great trade, but has by his own 
 management made it a more confiderable bufinefs than 
 ever it was before. For thirty years laft paft, he has 
 wrote fifty or fixty letters in a week, and is bufy in cor- 
 refponding with all parts of Europe. The general good 
 of trade feems to Negotius to be the general good of life; 
 whomfoever he admires, whatever he commends or con- 
 demns either in church or Itate, is admired, commended, 
 or condemmed, with fome regard to trade. 
 
 As money is continually pouring in upon him, fo he 
 often lets it go in various kinds of expence and genero- 
 fity, and fometimes in ways of charity. 
 
 Negotius is always ready to join in any public contri- 
 bution : If a purfe is making at any place where he hap- 
 pens to be, whether it be to buy a plate for a horfe-race, 
 or to redeem a prifoner out of jail, you are always lure 
 of having fomething from him. 
 
 He has given a fine ring of bells to a church in the 
 country : and there is much expectation that he will 
 fome time or other make a m.ore beautiful front to the 
 -market- houfe, than has been feen in any place. For it 
 is the generous fpirit of Negotius to do nothing in a mean 
 way. 
 
 If you afk what it is, that has fecured Negotius from 
 all fcandalous vices, it is the fame thing that has koft 
 him from ail ilri£tnefs of devotion, it is his great bufinefs. 
 Hebas always had too many imporunt thingsiu his head, 
 
 his 
 
1^4* A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 his thoughts have been too much employed to fuffer him^ 
 to fall either into any courfes of rakery, or to feel the 
 necelTity of an inward, folid piety. 
 
 For this reafon he hears of the pleafures of debauche- 
 ry, and the pleafures of piety, with the fame indifferen- 
 cy ; and has no more defire of living in the one than in 
 the other, becaufe neither of them confift with that turn 
 of mind and m.ultiplicity of bufinefs, which are his hap- 
 pinefs. 
 
 If Negotius was afked, what it is that he drives at m 
 life ? he would be as much at a lofs for an anfwer, as if 
 he vv^as afKed, what any other perfon is thinking of. For 
 though he always feems to himfelf to know vtdiat he is 
 doing, and has many things in his head, which are tha 
 motives of his actions; yet he cannot tell you of any 
 one general end of life, that he has chofen with deli- 
 beration, as being truly worthy of all his labour and 
 pains. 
 
 He has feveral confufed notions in his head, which 
 have been a long time there ; fuch as thefe, viz. That 
 it is fomething great to have more bufinefs than other 
 people, to have more dealings upon his hands than an 
 hundred of the fame profeflion ; to grow continually 
 richer and richer, and to raife an imimenfe fortune before 
 he dies. The thing that feems to give Negotius the 
 greateft life and fpirit, and to be moft in his thoughts, is 
 an expeftation that he fhall die richer than any of his 
 bufinefs ever did. 
 
 The generality of people, when they think of happi- 
 nefs, think upon Negotius, in whofe life every inftance 
 of happinefs is fuppofed to meet j fober, prudent, rich> 
 profperous, generous, and charitable. 
 
 Let us now therefore look at this condition in another 
 but truer light. 
 
 Let it be fuppofed, that this fame Negotius was a 
 painful, laborious man, every day deep in variety of af- 
 fairs ; that he neither drank nor debauched, but was fo- 
 ber and regular in his bufinefs. Let it be fuppofed that 
 he grew old in this courfe of trading ; and that the end 
 and defign of all this labour, and care and application to 
 bufmefs, was only this, that he might die poifefled of 
 
 more 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 165 
 
 more than an hundred thoufand pair of boots and fpurs, 
 and as many great coats. 
 
 Let it be fuppofed, that the fober part of the world 
 fay of him v/hen he is dead, that he was a great and hap- 
 py man, a thorough mafter of bufniefs, and had ac- 
 quired an hundred thoufand pair of boots and fpurs 
 when he died. 
 
 Now if this was really the cafe, I believe it would be 
 readily granted, that a life of fuch bulinefs 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 bufmefs and hurrry, that he 
 might die, as it is faid, worth an hundred thoufand 
 pounds, is any whit wifer than he, v/ho has taken the 
 lame pains to have as many pair of boots and fpurs when 
 he leaves the world. 
 
 For if the temper and (late of our fouls be our whole 
 ftate ; if the only end of life be to die as free from fm,. 
 and as exalted in virtue as we canj if naked as we came, 
 fo naked are we to return, and to (land a trial before 
 Chrifl, and his holy angels, for everlaiting happinefs or 
 mifery ; what can it poihbly fignify 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 ; w^he- 
 ther you call them his, or any one's elfe ; whether you 
 call them trees or fields, or birds and feather;? ; whether 
 you call them an hundred thoufand pounds, or an hun- 
 dred thoufand pair of boots and fpurs ? I fay, call them; 
 for the things fignify no more to him than the names. 
 
 Now it is eafy to fee the folly of a life thus fpent, to 
 furnifh a man with fuch a number of boots and fpurs. 
 But yet there needs no better faculty of feeing, no finer 
 underftanding, to fee the folly of a life fpent in making 
 a man. a profefTor often towns before he dies. 
 
 For if when he has got all his towns, or all his boots, 
 his foul is to go to his own place among feparate fpirits, 
 and his body be laid by in a coihn, till the lad trumpet 
 calls him to judgment j where the enquiry will be, how 
 humbly, how devoutly, how purely, how meekly, how 
 pioufly, how charitably, how heavenly we have fpoke, 
 thought and ailed, whilit we were in the body *, how can 
 we fay, that he who has wore out his life in raifmg an 
 
 hundred 
 
IS6 A SERIOUS C/VLL TO A 
 
 hundred thoufand pounds, has a£led wifer for hh-nfelf, 
 than he who has had the fame care to procure an hundred 
 thoufand of any thing elfe? 
 
 But farther : Let it now be fuppofed, that Negotius, 
 when he firfl entered into bufniefs, happening to read 
 the Gofpel with attention, and eyes open, found that he 
 had a nnuch greater bufinefs upon his hands, than that 
 to which he had ferved an apprenticefliip : that there 
 were things wliich belong to man of much greater im- 
 portance than all that our eyes can fee ; fo glorious, as 
 to deferve all our thoughts; fo dangerous, as to need all 
 cur 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 better to grow in the virtues of the 
 foul, than to have a large body or a full purfe j that it 
 was better to be fit for heaven, than to have a variety of 
 fine houfes upon the earth ; that it was better to fecure 
 an everlafting happinefs, than to have plenty of things 
 v.'hich he cannot keep ; better to live in habits of humi- 
 Jity, piety, devotion, charity, and felf-deni?I, than to 
 die unprepared for judgment •, better to be moll like 
 our Saviour, or fome eminent faint, than to excel all 
 the tradefmen in the world, in bufinefs and bulk of for- 
 tune. 
 
 Let it be fuppofed, that Negotius believing thefe 
 things to be true, entirely devoted himfelf to God at his 
 firfl fetting out in the world, refolving to purfue his bu- 
 finefs no farther than was confiflent with great devotion, 
 humility, and feif-denial •, and for no other ends, but to 
 provide himfelf with a fober fubfiilence, and to do all 
 the good that he could, to the fouls and bodies of his 
 fellow creatures. 
 
 Let it therefore be fuppofed, that inflead of the con- 
 tinual hurry of bufinefs, he was frequent in his retire- 
 ments, and a ilrift obferver of all the hours of prayer ; 
 that inflead of reillefs defires after more riches, his foul 
 had been full of the love of God and heavenly aife6lion, 
 conftantly watching againd worldly tempers, and al- 
 ways afpiring after divine grace •, that inflead of worldly 
 cares and contrivances, he was bufy in fortifying his 
 
 foul 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 167 
 
 foul againft all approaches of fin •, that inftead of coftly 
 fhew and expenfive generofity of a fplendid life, he 
 loved and exercifed all inftances of humility and lowli- 
 nefs ; that inftead of great treats and full tables, his 
 houfe only furnifhed a fober refrelhment to thole that 
 wanted it. 
 
 I.et it be fuppofed. That his contentment kept him 
 free from ail kinds of envy. That his piety made him 
 thankful to God in all croflTes and difappointments. 
 That his charity kept him from being rich, by a con- 
 tinual diftribution to all objects of compaffion. 
 
 Now had this been the chriftian fpiiit of Negotius, 
 can any one fay, that he had loft the true joy and hap- 
 pinefs of life, by thus conforming to the fpirit, and living 
 up to the hopes of the Gcfpel. 
 
 Can it be faid, that a life made exemplary by fuch 
 virtues as tliefe, which keep heaven always in our fight, 
 which both delight and exalt the foul here, and prepare 
 it for the prefence of God hereafter, muft be poor and 
 dull, if compared to that of heaping up riches, which 
 can neither Ray with us, nor we with them ? 
 
 It would be endlefs to multiply examples of this kind, 
 to fhew you how little is loft, and how much is gained, 
 by introducing a ftri£l and exadt piety into every con- 
 dition 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 directed by what is here faid, to convince 
 yourfelf, that a true and exalted piety is fo far from 
 rendering any life dull and tirefome, that it is the only 
 joy and happinefs of every condition In the world. 
 
 Imagine to yourfelf fome perfon in a confumptlon, 
 or any other lingering diftemper that was incurable. 
 
 If you was to fee fuch a man wholly intent upon do- 
 ing every thing in the fpirit of religion, making the 
 wifeft ufe of all his time, fortune, and abilities, if he 
 was for carrying every duty of piety to its greateft 
 height, and ftriving to have all the advantage that could 
 be had from the remainder of his life. If he avoided 
 all bufinefs, but fuch as was necefiary ; if he was averfe 
 to all the follies and vanities cf the world, had no tafte 
 for finery and fhew, but fought for all his comfort in the 
 
 hopes 
 
168 A SERIOUS GALL TO A 
 
 hopes anci expectations of religion ; you would certain* 
 ly commend his prudence, you would fay, that he had 
 taken the right method to make himfelf as joyful and 
 happy, as any one can be in a ftate of iuch infirmity. 
 
 On the other hand, if you fliould fee the fame per- 
 fon, with trembling hands, (hort breath, thin jaws, and 
 hollow eyes, vv'bolly intent upon bufinefsand bargains, 
 as long as he could fpeak. If you fhould fee him plea- 
 fed with fine cloaths, when he could fcarce ftand to be 
 drefl(?d, and laying out his money in horfes and dogs, 
 rather than purchafe the prayers of the poor for hi& 
 foul, which was fo foon to be fcparated from his body, 
 you would certainly condemn him, as a weak, filly man- 
 Now as it is eafy to fee the reafonablencfs, the wifdom 
 and happinefs of a religious fpirit in a confun-,ptive 
 man ; fo if you purfue the fame way of thinking, you 
 will as eafily perceive the fame wifdcm and happincfs of 
 a pious temper in every other Rate of life. 
 
 For how foon will every man that is in heaUh, be in 
 the (late of him that is in a confumption ? Hew foon 
 will he want all the fame comforts and fatisfadtions of 
 religion, which every dying man wants ? 
 
 And if it be wife and happy to live pioufly, becaufe 
 we have not above a year to live, is it not being more 
 wife, and making curfelves more happy, becaufe we 
 may have more years to come ? If one year of piety be- 
 fore we die, is fo defirable, is not more years of piety 
 much more defirable ? 
 
 If a man had five fixed years to live, he could not 
 pofTibly think at all, without intending to make the beft 
 ufe of them all. When he faw his ftay fo fliort in this 
 world, he rnufl needs think that this was not a world 
 for him j and when iie faw how near he v/as to ano- 
 ther world, that was eternal, he muft furely think it 
 very neceflary to be very diligent in preparing himfeif 
 for it. 
 
 Now as reafonable as piety appears in fuch a circum- 
 stance of life, it is yet more reafonable in every circum- 
 ftance of life, to every thinking man. 
 
 For who but a madman can reckon that he has five 
 jears certain to come ? 
 
 And if it be reafonable and necefTary to deny our 
 
 worldly 
 
DEVOUT ;1ND HOLY LIFE. 169 
 
 worldly tempers, and live wholly unto God, becaufe we 
 are certain that we are to die at the end of five years ; 
 ■furely it mud be more reafonabie and neceiTary for us to 
 live in the fame f]3irit, becaufe we have no certainty that 
 we fhall live five weeks •: 
 
 Again, if we were to add twenty years to the five, 
 ■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 be- 
 tween five, and twenty-five years ? 
 
 It is faid, that a day is with God as a thoufand years, 
 and a thoufand years as one day ; becaufe, in regard Lo 
 his eternity, this difi^erence is as nothing. 
 
 Now as we are all created to be eternal, to live in an 
 endlefs fuccefiion of ages upon ages, where thoufands, 
 and millions of thoufands of years will have no propor- 
 tion to our everlafting life in God j fo with regard to this 
 eternal ftate, which is our real (late, twenty-five years 
 is as poor a pittance as twenty-five days. 
 
 Now we can never make any true judgment of time 
 as it relates to us, without confidering the true ftate of 
 our duration. If v/e are temporary beings, then a little 
 time mayjuftly be called a great deal in relation to us; 
 but if we are eternal beings, then the difference of a fev/ 
 years is as nothing. 
 
 If we were to fuppofe three different forts of rational 
 beings, all of different but fixed duration, one fort that 
 lived certainly only a m.onth, the other a year, and the 
 third an hundred years. 
 
 Now if thefe things were to meet to;^ether, and talk 
 about time, they mull talk in a very different language; 
 half an hour to thofe that were to live but a month, mull 
 be a very different thing, to what it is to thofe who are 
 to live an hundred years. 
 
 As therefore time is thus different a thing with regard 
 to the ftate of thofe who enjoy it, fo if we would know 
 v.diat time is with regard to ourfelves, we mud confi- 
 der our ftate. 
 
 Now fince our eternal ftate, is iis certainly ours, as 
 our prefent ftate; fince we are as certainly to" live for 
 ever, as we now live at all ; it is plain that we cannot 
 judge of the value of any particular time, abs to us, but 
 
 by 
 
170 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 by comparing it to that eternal duration for which 
 we are created. 
 
 If you would know, what five years fignify to a be- 
 ing that was to live an hundred, you muft compare five 
 to an hundred, and fee what 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 mull compare it, not to a million of 
 ages, but an eternal duration, to which no number of 
 millions bears any proportion ; and then you will judge 
 right by finding nothing, 
 
 Confider therefore this; how would you condemn the 
 folly of a man, that fhould lofe his fliare of future 
 glory, for the fake of being rich, or great, or praifed, 
 or delighted in any enjoyment, only one poor day before 
 he was to die ! 
 
 But if the time will come, when a number of years 
 will feem lefs to every one, than a day does now; what 
 a condemnation mult it then be, if eternal happincfs 
 (hould appear to be loft, for fomething lefs than the en- 
 joyment of a day ! 
 
 Why does a day feem a trifle to us 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 trifle therefore muft the years of a man's age 
 appear, when they are forced to be fet againft eternity, 
 when there fliall be nothing but eternity to compare 
 them with ! 
 
 Now this will be the cafe of every man, as foon as 
 he is out of the body ; he will be forced to forget the 
 diltincStions of days and years, and to meafure time, 
 not by the courfe of the fun, by letting it againft e- 
 ternity. 
 
 As the fixed ftars, by reafon of our being placed 
 at fuch diftance from them, appear but as fo many 
 points ; fo when we are placed in eternity, fhall look 
 back upon all time, it v/ill all appear but as a moment. 
 Then a luxury, an indulgence,a profperity, a greatnefs, 
 of fifty years, will feem to every one that looks back 
 upon it, as the fame poor fiiort enjoyment, as if he had 
 been fnatched away in his firft fin. 
 
 Thefe few reflections upon time, are only to fhew 
 
 how 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 171 
 
 how poorly they think, how miferably they judge, who 
 are lefs careful of an eternal itate, becaufe they may 
 be at fome yjars diilance from it, than they v/ould 
 be, if they knew they v/ere within a few weeks of it. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Concet'jung that part cf devotion which relates to times and 
 hours cf prayer. Of daily early prayer in the morning, 
 Ho'M ive are to improve our forms of prayer^ and hew to 
 increafe the fpir'it oj devotion, 
 
 HAVING in the foregoing chapters fhewn the ne- 
 ceflity of a devout fpirit, or habit of mind in every 
 part of our common life, in the difcharge of all our buii- 
 nefs, in the ufe of all the gifts of God : I come now to 
 confider that part of devotion, which relates to times 
 and hours of prayer. 
 
 I take it for granted, that every Chriflian, that is 
 in health, is up early in the mornings for it is much 
 more reafonable to fuppofe a perfon up early, be- 
 caufe he is a Cnriftian, than becaufe he is a labourer, 
 or a tradefman, or a fervant, or has bufmefs that wants 
 him. 
 
 We raturally conceive fome abhorrence of a man 
 that is \\\ bed, v/hen lie fnouid be at his labour, or in his 
 fhop. We cannot tell how to think any thing good of 
 him, who is fuch a flave to drowfmefs, as to neglect his 
 bufmefs for it. 
 
 Let this therefore teach us to conceive, how odious 
 we muft appear in the fight of heaven, if we are in bed, 
 flmt up in lleep and darknefs, when we fhould be praif- 
 ing God; and are fuch Haves to drowfmefs, as to neglect 
 our devotions for it. 
 
 For if he is to be blamed as a llothful drone, that ra- 
 ther cirofes the lazy indulgence of fleep, than to per- 
 form his proper fhare of worldly bufmefs ; how much 
 is he to be reproached, that had rather lie folded up ia 
 
 abed, 
 
ITS A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 a bed, than be raifing up his heart to God in a£ls of 
 pniife and adoration? 
 
 Prayer is the nearefl approach to God and the high- 
 eil enjoyment of him, that we are capable of in this 
 life. ^ 
 
 It is the nobleil exercife of the foul, the moft exalted 
 ufe of cur bell faculties, and the higheit eftimation of 
 the bleiled inhabitants of heaven. 
 
 "When our hearts are full of God, fending up holy 
 defires to the throne of grace, we are then in our 
 highefl ftate, we are upon the utmoft heights of hu- 
 man greatnefs ; we are not before kings and princes, but 
 in the prefence and audience of the Lord of all the 
 world, and can be no higher, till death is fw allowed up 
 in glory. 
 
 On the other hand, fleep is the pooreft, dullefl re- 
 freflnnent of the body, that is fo far from being in- 
 tended as an enjoyment, that we are forced to receive it 
 either in a ilate of infenlibility, or in the folly of dreams. 
 
 Sleep is fuch a dull, ftupid ftate of exiftence, that 
 even amongft m.ere animals, we del'pife them mofl, 
 which are mcll drowfy. He therefore that chufes to 
 enlarge tlie flothful indulgence of ileep, rather than be 
 early at his devotions to God j chufes tlie dulled refrefh- 
 ment of the body,before the higheil,nobleft employment 
 of the foul ; he chufes that ftate, which is a reproach to 
 mere animals, rather than that exercife, which is the 
 glory of angels. 
 
 You will perhaps fay, though you rife late, yet you 
 are always careful of your devotions when you are 
 up. 
 
 It may be fo. But what .then ? Is it w^ell done 
 of you to rife late, becaufe you pray uhen you are up? 
 Is it pardonable to wafte great part of the day in bed 
 becaufe feme time after you fay your prayers? 
 
 It is as much your duty to rife to pray, as to pray 
 when you are rifcti. And if ycu are. late at your pray- 
 ers, you offer to God the rrayers of an ic'ie, fiothful, 
 ■worft.ipper, that lifes to prayers, as idle fervants rife to 
 their labour. 
 
 Farther, if you fancy that you are careful of your de- 
 votions, when you are up, though it be your cuftom to 
 
 rife 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 173 
 
 rife late, you deceive yourtelf; for you cannot perform 
 your devotions as you ought. For he that cannot deny 
 himfelf this drowfy indulgence, but mult pafs avi^ay good 
 part of the morning in it, is no more prepared for prayer 
 when he is up, than he is prepared for fafting, abiti- 
 nence, or any other felf-denial. He may indeed more 
 eafily read over a form of prayer, than he can perform 
 thefe duties •, but he is no more difpofed to enter into 
 the true fpirit of prayer, than he is difpofed to failing. 
 For deep thus indulged, gives a foftnefs and idlenefs to 
 all our tempers, and makes us unable to relifli any 
 thing, but what fuits with an idle itate of mind, and 
 gratifies our natural tempers as lleep does. 80 that a 
 perfon that is a Have to this idienefs, is in the fame tem.- 
 per when he is up ; and though he is not afleep, yet he 
 is under the effects of it : and every thing that is idle, 
 indulgent, or fenfual, pleafes him for the fame reafon 
 that fleep pleafes him ; and on the other hand, every 
 thing that requires care, or trouble, or felf-denial, is 
 hateful to him, for the fame reafon that he hates to rife. 
 He that places any happinefs in this morning indulgence, 
 ^vould be glad to have all the day made happy in the 
 fame manner j though not with lleep, yet with fuch 
 enjoyment as gratify and indulge the body in the fame 
 manner as lleep does •, or at leall, 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 thofe that fit tlarving in a Church. 
 
 Now you do not imagine that fuch a one can truly 
 mortify that body which he thus indulges; yet you 
 might as well think this, as that he can truly perform 
 his devotions ; or live in fuch a drowfy itate of indul- 
 gence, and yet reliili the joys of a fpirit ual life. 
 
 For furely no one will pretend to fay, that he knows 
 ajid feels the true happinefs of prayer, who does not 
 think it worth his while to be early at it. 
 
 It is not poffible in nature for an Epicure to be truly 
 devout ; he muft renounce this habit of fenfuality, be- 
 fore he can relifti the happinefs of devotion. 
 
 Now he that turns fleep into an idle indulgence, does 
 
 as much to corrupt and diforder his foul, to make it a 
 
 ilave to bodily appetites, and keep it incapable of all 
 
 H devout 
 
174. A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 devout and heavenly tempers, as he that turns the ne- 
 ceiTities of eating into a courfe of indulgence. 
 
 A perfon that eats and drinks too much, does not 
 feel fuch effects from it, as thofe do who live in noto- 
 rious initances of gluttony and intemperance ; but yet 
 iiis courfe of indulgence, though it be not fcandalous in 
 the eyes of the world, nor fuch as torments his own 
 confcience, is a great and conilant hindrance to his im- 
 provement in virtue ; it gives him eyes that fee not, and 
 €ars that hear not ; it creates a fenfuality in the foul, 
 increafes the power of bodily paflions, and makes him 
 incapable of entering into the true fpirit of religion. 
 
 Now this is the cafe of thofe v/ho wafte their time in 
 ileep j it does not diforder their lives, or wound their 
 confciences, as notorious a6ts of intemperance do *, but 
 like any otlier more moderate courfe of indulgence, it 
 iilently, and by fmaller degrees, wears away the fpirit 
 of religion, and fniks the foul into a ftate of dulnefs 
 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 ilate 
 of the heart, as a lively fervour of the foul, that is deep- 
 ly afFecled with a fenle of his own mifery and infirmi- 
 ties, and de firing the fpirit of God more than all things 
 inthe world, you will find that the fpirit of indulgence, 
 and the fpirit of prayer, cannot fubfiil together. Mor- 
 tification of all kinds, is the very life and foul of pi- 
 ety : but he that has not fo fmall a degree 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 overhimfelf ? "What right 
 hand has he cut oif? What trials is he prepared for.'* 
 What facrifice is he ready to offer unto God ? who 
 cannot be fo cruel to himfelf, as to rife to prayer at fucn 
 time, as the drudging part of the world are content to 
 xife to their labour. 
 
 Some people vv^ill not fcruple to tell you, that they in- 
 dulge themfelves in fleep, becaufe they have nothing to 
 do ; and that if they had either bufinefs or pleafure to 
 fife to they would not lofe fo much of their time in lleep. 
 
 But 
 
DEVOUT «AND HOLY LIFH. 175 
 
 But fuch people muft be told, that they miftake the 
 matter; that they have a great deal of bufinefs to do; 
 they have a burdened heart to change; they have the 
 whole fpirit of religion to get. For furely, he that 
 thinks devotion to be of lefs moment than bufinefs or 
 pleafure ; or that he has nothing to do, becaufe nothing 
 but his prayers want him, rnay be jullly faid to have the 
 whole fpirit of religion to feek. 
 
 You mud not therefore connder, how fmall a crime 
 it is to rife late, but you mud confider hov/ great a mi- 
 fery it is to want the fpirit of religion ; to have a heart 
 not rightly a]&e6led with prayer ; and to live in fuch 
 foftnefs and idlenefs, as makes you incapable of the 
 moft fundamental duties of a truly chriilian and fpiri- 
 tual life. 
 
 This is the right way of judging of the -crime of 
 wafting great part of your time in bed. 
 
 You muft not confider the thing barely in itfelf, but 
 what it proceeds from ; what virtues it fhews to be 
 wanting; what vices it naturally ftrengthens. For 
 every habit of this kind difcovers the date of the foulj 
 and plainly fnews the whole turn of your mind. 
 
 If our blelTed Lord ufed to pray early before da}^; 
 tf he fpent whole nights in prayer; if the devout Anna 
 was day and night in the temple : if St Paul and Silas 
 at midnight fang praiies unto God ; if the primitive 
 Ghriftians, for feveral hundred years, befide their hours 
 of prayer in the day-time, met publicly in the churches 
 at midnight, to join in pfalms and prayers, is it not cer- 
 tain that thefe practices Ihewed the date of their heart? 
 Are they not lb many plain proofs of the whole turn 
 of their minds. 
 
 And if you live in a contrary date, wafting great part 
 of every day in fleep, thinking any time foon enough to 
 be at your prayers ; is it not equally certain, that this 
 praftice as much diews the date of your heart, and the 
 whole turn of your mind ? 
 
 So tliat if this indulgence is your way of life, you have 
 as much reafon to believe yourfelf deditute of the true 
 fpirit of devotion, as you have to believe the apodles 
 and faints of the primitive Church were truly devout. 
 For as their way of life was a demondration of their 
 
 H 2 devotion. 
 
176 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 devotion, fo a contrary way of life is as ftrong a proof of 
 a want of devotion. 
 
 When you read the fcriptures, you fee a religion that 
 is all life, and fpirit, and joy in God ; that fuppofes our 
 foul rifen from earthly defires, and bodily indulgences, 
 to prepare for another body, another world, and other 
 enjoyments. You fee Chrillians 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 always burning in expectation of the bride- 
 groom. But can he be thought to have this joy in God, 
 this care of eternity, this watchful fpirit, who has not 
 zeal enough to rife to his prayers ? 
 • "When you look into the writings and lives of the firfl: 
 chrillians, you fee the fame fpirit that you fee in the 
 fcriptures. AH is reality, life, and action. Watchings 
 and prayers, felf-denial and mortification, was the com- 
 mon bufinefs of their lives. 
 
 From that time to this, there has been no perfon like 
 them, eminent for piety, who has not, like them, been 
 eminent for felf-denial 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 auiteri- 
 ty and mortification, you cannot fo much as renounce 
 fo poor an indulgence, as- to be able to rife to your 
 prayers ? If felf-denials and bodily fufFerings, if watch- 
 ings and faftings, will be marks of glory at the day of 
 judgment, where muft we hide our heads, that have 
 ilumbered away our time in floth and foftnefs ? 
 
 You perhaps now find fome pretences, to excufe 
 yourfelf from that feverity of failing and felf-denial, 
 •which the firfl Chriftians praclifed. You fancy that 
 human nature is grown weaker, and that the difference 
 of climates may make it not poirible for you to obferve 
 their methods of felf-denial and aulterity, in thefe cold- 
 er 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 is the fame fpirit in us, that 
 there was in the apoltles and primitive chriftians, when 
 we feel the weight of religion, as they did *, when we 
 
 have 
 
DEVOUT AND KOLY LIFE. 177 
 
 have their faith and hope, we {hall take up our crofs and 
 deny ourfelves, and live in fuch methods of mortification 
 as they did. 
 
 Had St Paul lived in a cold country, had he had a 
 conititution made weak with a fjckly Itomach, and 
 often infirir.ities, he would have done as he advifed 
 Timothy, he would have mixed a little wine with his 
 water. 
 
 But ftill he would have Uved in a ftate of felf-denial 
 and mGrtification. He would have given this fame ac- 
 count of himfelf. " I therefore fo run, not as uncertain- 
 ly, fo fight I, not as one that beateth the air-, but I keep 
 under my body and bring it unto fubje<ition, leil that 
 by any means, when I have preached to others, I my- 
 felf fiiould be a caft away." 
 
 After ail, let it now be fuppofed, that you imagine 
 there is no neceffity for you to be fo fober and vigilant, 
 fo fearful of yourfeif, fo watchful over your pafiions, lo 
 apprehenfive of danger, fo careful of your falvation, as 
 the apofties were. Let it be fuppofed, that you imagine 
 that you want lefs felf-denial and mortification, to lubdue 
 your bodies, and purify 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 hidulgence, as theirs v/as of itrict- 
 nefs and felf-denial. 
 
 if, therefore, you fliould think that you have time fuf- 
 ficient, both for prayer and other duties, rhough you rife 
 late J yet let me periuade you to rife early, as an inilance 
 of felf-denial. It is fo fmail a one, that if you cannot 
 comply with it, you have no reafon to think yourfeif ca- 
 pable of any other. 
 
 If I was to defire you not to iludy the gratification of 
 your palate, in the niceties of meats jind arink, I would 
 not infiit much upon the crime of waiting your money 
 in fuch a way, though it be a great One -, but I would de- 
 fire you to renounce fuch a v/ay of life, becaufe it fup- 
 ports you in fuch a ftate of fenfuahty and indulgence, as 
 renders you incapable of relifiiing the rnoft elTential 
 doctrines of religion. 
 For the fame reafon, I do not infift much on the crime 
 H:3 of 
 
•I'^S A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 of wafting fo much of your time in Deeps though it be a 
 great one ; but I defire you to renounce this indulgence, 
 becaufe it gives a foftnefs and idlenefs to your foul; and 
 is fo contrary to that hvely, zealous, watchful, felf-deny- 
 ing fpirit, which was not only the fpirit of Chrift and his 
 apoftles, tlie fpirits of all the faints and martyrs which 
 have ever been amongll men, but mull be the fpirit of 
 all thofe who would not fmk in the common corruption 
 of the world. 
 
 Here therefore we mufl fix our charge againft this 
 prr.clice ; we muft blame it, not as having this or that 
 particular evil, but as a general habit that extends itfelf 
 through our vrhole fpirit, and fupports a Hate of mind 
 that is wholly wrong. 
 
 It is contrary to piety; not -as accidental flips and 
 miilakes 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 early every 
 mornings as an inftance of feif-denial, as a method of 
 renouncing indulgence, as a means of redeeming your 
 time,, and iitting your fpirit for prayer, you would find 
 mighty advantages from it. This method, though it 
 feems fuch a fmali circumftance of life, would in all 
 probability be a means of great piety. It v/ould keep 
 it conftantly in your head, that foftiiefs and idlenefs 
 were to be avoided, that felf-denial was a part of chri- 
 ftianity. " It would teach you to exercife power over 
 yourieif, and make you able by degrees to renounce 
 other pleafures and tempers that war againll the foul. 
 
 This one rule would teach you to think of others; it 
 would difpofe your mind to exadnefs, and be very like- 
 ly to bring the remaining part of the day under rules of 
 prudence and devotion. 
 
 But above all, one certain benefit from this method 
 you will be fure of having, it will beft lit and prepare 
 you for the reception of the holy fpirit. When you thus 
 begin the day in tho fpirit of renouncing fleep, becaufe 
 you are to renounce foftnefs, and redeem your time 5 
 this difpofition, as it puts your heart into a good itate, fo 
 it will procure the alhftance of the Holy bpirit ; what 
 is fo planted and watered, will certainly have an increafe 
 from God. You will then fpeak from your heart, your 
 
 Xoul 
 
DEVOUT AKD HOLY LIFE. 179 
 
 foul will be awake, your prayers will refrefli you like 
 meat and drink, you will feel what you fay, and begin 
 to know what faints and holy men have mcantj by fer- 
 vours of devotion. 
 
 He that is thus prepared for prayer, who rifes with 
 thefe difpofitions, is in a very different Hate from him, 
 who has no rules of this kind : who rifes by chance, as 
 he happens to be weary of his bed, or is able to ileep 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 lifelefs 
 form of words, which he only repeats becaufe they are 
 foon faid, there is nothing to be wondered at in all this : 
 for fuch dif'jofitions are ihe natural effedl of fuch a itate 
 of life. ^ 
 
 Hoping therefore, that you are now enough convin- 
 ced of the necefhty of riling early to your prayers, 
 I fhall proceed to lay before you a liiethod of daily 
 prayer. 
 
 I do not take upon me to prefcribe to you the ufe 
 of any particular forms of prayer, but only to fliew 
 the necelhty of praying at fuch times, and in fuch a 
 manner. 
 
 You will here l^nd fome helps, )iOw to furnifh yourfelf 
 with fuch forms of prayer as ihali be ufeful to yen. 
 And if you are fuch a proficient in the fpirit of devo- 
 tion, that your heart is always ready to pray in its ov/a 
 language, in this cafe I prefs no necefljty of borrowed 
 forms 
 
 For though I think a form of prayer very neceffary 
 nnd expedient for public woribip, yet if any one can 
 find a better way of railing his heart unto God in pri- 
 vate, than by prepared forms of prayer, I have nothing 
 to obje£t againfl it; my defign being only to aiTill and 
 direct fuch as Hand in need of alTiftance. 
 
 Thus much, I believe, is certain, that the generality of 
 Chriilians ought to ufe forms of prayer, at all the regu- 
 lar times of prayer. It feem.s right for every one to be- 
 gin with a form of prayer ; and if, in the midil of de- 
 votions, he finds his heart ready to break forth into new 
 and higher itrains of devotion, he fhoald Icav^ his form 
 H4 for 
 
180 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 for a while, and follow thofe fervours of his heart, till 
 it again wants tlie afTiftance of his ufeful petitions. 
 
 This feems to be the true liberty of private devotion; 
 it fhould be under the direction of fome form ; but not 
 fo tied down to it, but that it may be free to take fuch 
 2ievv' exprefiions, as its prefent fervours happen to furniih 
 it with; which fometimes are more affeciing, and carry 
 the foul more powerfully to God, than any expreflions 
 that were ever ufed before. 
 
 All people that have ever made any refle6lions upon 
 what palTes in their own hearts, muft know that they 
 are mighty changeable in regard to devotion. Sometimes 
 our hearts are fo awakened, have fuch ftrong apprehen-f 
 fions of the divine prefence, are fo full of deep com- 
 punction for our hns, that we cannot confefs them in 
 any language, but that of tears. 
 
 Sometimes the light of God's countenance fhines fo 
 bright upon us, Vv'e fee fo far into the invifible world, we 
 are fo affected with the wonders of the love and goodnefs 
 of God, that our hearts worihip and adore in a language 
 higher than that of words, and we feel traufports of de- 
 votion, which only can be felt. 
 
 On the other hand, fometimes we are fo funk into 
 our bodies, fo dull and unaffected with that which con- 
 cerns our fouls, that our hearts are as much too low for 
 our prayers ; we cannot keep pace with our forms of 
 confeifion, 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 little or no ftiare in 
 them. 
 
 It is therefore highly neceffary to provide againft this 
 inconitancy of our hearts, by having at hand fuch forms 
 of prayer, as may bed fuit us when our hearts are in 
 their bed ftate, and alfo be mod likely to raife and itir 
 them up, when they are funk into dulnefs. For as words 
 have a power of aff'eCling our hearts on all occafions, as 
 the fame thing differently expreffed has different effedts 
 upon our minds ; fo it is reafonable, that we fhould make 
 this advantage of language, and provide ourfelves 
 with fuch forms of expreffions, as are moil likely to 
 move and enliven our fouls, and fill them with fenti- 
 ments fuitable to them. 
 
 The 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 181 
 
 The firft thing that you are to do, when you are up- 
 on your knees, is to (hut your eyes, and with a fnort C« 
 lence let your ibul place itfelf in the prefence of God; 
 that is, you are to ufe this, or fome other better me- 
 thod, to feparate yourielf from all common thoughts, 
 and make your hearts as fenfibie as you can of the di- 
 vine prefence. 
 
 Now if this recoUedion of fpirit.is necelTary, as who 
 can fay it is not ? then how poorly muft they perform 
 their devotions, who are always in a hurry, who begin 
 them in hade, and hardly allow themfelves time to re- 
 peat their very form, with any gravity or attention ? 
 Theirs is properly faying prayers, infhead of praying. 
 
 To proceed j if you was to ufe yourfelf (as far as you 
 can) to pray always in the fame place ; if you was to 
 referve that place for devotion, and not allow yourfelf 
 to do any thing common in it; if you was never to be 
 there yourfelf, but in times cf devotion -, if any little 
 room (or if tliat cannot be) if any particular part of a 
 room was thus ufed, this kind of confecration of it, as 
 a place holy unto God, would have an effecSl: upon your 
 mind, and dlfpofe you to fuch tempers, as would very- 
 much affift your devotion. For by having a place thus 
 facred in your room, it would in fome meafure refem- 
 ble a chapel, or houfe cf 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, whea 
 you was by yourfelf. Your own apartment would raife 
 in your mind fuch fentiments, as you have, when yoUL 
 (land near an altar ; and you would be afraid of think- 
 ing or doing, any thing that was fcolifh near that place, 
 v/hich is the place of prayer, and holy intercourfe with 
 God.. 
 
 When you begin your petitions, ufe fuch various ex- 
 prelTions of the attributes of God, as may make you 
 mofb fenfibie of the greatnefs and power of the divine 
 Nature. 
 
 Begin therefore in words like thefe : <^ O Being of 
 all beings, Fountain of all light and glory, gracious 
 Father of men and angels, whofe univerfal Spirit is 
 every where prefent, giving life, and light, and joy, 
 
 H5 to 
 
182 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 to all nngels in heaven, and all creatures upon earth^* 
 
 For thefe reprefentatlons of the divine attributes, 
 which fliew us in fome degree the majefty and great- 
 iiefs of God, are an excellent means of raihng our 
 hearts into lively acls of worfliip and adoration. 
 
 What is the reafon that moft people are fo much af- 
 fedted vi^ith this petition in the burial fervice of our 
 Church : " Yet, O Lord God moil holy, O Lord moft 
 mighty, O holy and moft merciful Saviour, deliver us 
 not into the bitter pains of eternal death ?" It is, be- 
 caufe the joining together fo many great expreflions, 
 gives fuch a defcription of the greatnefs of the Divine 
 Majerty, as naturally affe^ls every fenfible mind. 
 
 Although therefore prayer does not conuft^ in fine 
 "«.vords, or ftudied expreihons; yet as words fpeak to the 
 fo\il, as they have a certain power of raifing thoughts in, 
 the foul ; fo thofe words which fpeak of God in the 
 higheft manner, which moft fully exprcfs the power 
 and prefence of God, which raife thoughts in the foul 
 rnoft fuitable to the greatnefs and providence of God, 
 are the moft ufeful, and moft edifying in our prayers, 
 
 When you dire£l; any of your petitions to our blefied 
 Lord, let it be in fome expreilions of this kind : " O 
 Saviour of the world, God of God, Light of Lightj thou 
 that art tlie Briglitnefs of thy Father's Glory, and the 
 exprefs Image of his Perfon ', thou that art the Al- 
 pha and Omega, the Beginning and End of all things : 
 thou that haft deftroyed the power of the devil; thou 
 that haft overcome death; thou that tfrt entered into the 
 Holy- of holies ; that htteft at the right hand of the Fa- 
 ther ; that art high above all thrones and principalities, 
 that makeft interceftion for ail the world ; thou that art 
 the judge of the quick and dead ; thou that wilt fpeedi- 
 ly come down in thy Father's glory, to reward all 
 men according to their v/orks, be thou my light and my 
 peace," &c. 
 
 For fuch reprefentnticns, which defcribe fo many cha- 
 ra6lers of our Saviours nature and power, are not only 
 proper TxSiS of adoration, but will, if they are- repeated 
 with attention, fill cuv hcvirts with the higheft fervours 
 %fi true devot '.on. 
 
 Again, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. ♦IBS 
 
 Again, If you afic any particular grace of our blefied 
 Lord, let it be in fome manner like thi? : 
 
 " O holy Jefusj ion of the moft high God, thou that 
 was fcourged at a pillar, Rretched and nailed on a crofs 
 for the fins of the world, unite me to thy crofs, and i:ll 
 my foul with thy holy, humble, and fuftering fpirit. O 
 Fountain of m.ercy, thou that dldil fave the thief upon 
 the crofs, fave me from the guilt of a finiul life : thou 
 that didd call (even devils out of Mary Magdalene, call 
 out of my heart, all evil thoughts, and v/icked tempers. 
 O giver of life, thou that didit raife Lazarus from the 
 dead, raife up my foul from the death and darknefs of 
 fin. Thou that didft give to thy Apoftles power over 
 unclean fpirits, give me power over mine own heart. 
 Thou that didfl appear unto thy difciples when the 
 doors were fhut, do thou appear to me in the fecret a- 
 partment of m.y heart. Thou that didil: cleanfe the le- 
 pers, heal the fick, and give fight to the blind, cleanfe 
 my heart, heal the diforders of my foul, and fill me witli 
 heavenly light. 
 
 Now thele kind of appeals have a double advantage; 
 firft, as they are fo many proper a£ts of our faith, where- 
 by we not only fhew 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 fcrengthen and increafe the faith 
 of our prayers, by prefenting to our mind fo many in- 
 ftances of that power and goodnefs, which we call upon- 
 for our own afiiltance. 
 
 For he that appeals to Chrid, as cafting out devils, 
 and raifing the dead, has then a powerful motive in 
 his hand to pray earneftly, and depend faithfully upon 
 his aflTiilance. 
 
 Again, In order to fill your prayers with excellent 
 ftrains of devotion, it may be of ufe to you to obferve 
 this farther rule : 
 
 When at any time, either in reading the Scripture or 
 any book of Piety, you m.eet with a pafTage that more 
 than ordinarily aife^ls your mind, and feems as it were 
 to give your heart a new motion towards God,you{hould 
 try to turn it into the form of a petition, and then give it 
 ^ place in your prayers. 
 
 H6 B? 
 
lSi> A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 By this means, you would be often Improving your 
 prayers, and ftoring yourfelf v/ith proper forms of ma- 
 king the defires of your heart known unto God. 
 
 At all the Rated hours of prayer, it will be of great 
 benefit to you, to have fomething fixed, and fomething 
 at liberty, in your devotions. 
 
 You Ihould have fome fixed fubjeCb, which is con- 
 ftantly to be the chief matter of your prayer at thatpar- 
 cular time ; and yet have liberty to add fuch other peti- 
 tions, as your condition may then require. 
 
 For inllance : As the morning is to you the begin- 
 ning of new life *, as God has then given you a new 
 enjoyment of yourfelf, and a frefli entrance into the 
 world, it is highly proper that your firft devotions (hould 
 be a praife and thankfgiving to God, as for a new crea- 
 tion-, and that you fliould offer and devote body and 
 foul, all that you are, and all that you have, to his fer- 
 vice and glory. 
 
 Receive therefore every day, as a refurre<Si:ion from 
 death, as a new enjoyment of life; meet every rifing 
 fun with fuch fentiments of God's goodnefs, as if you 
 had feen it, and all things new created upon your ac- 
 count ; and under the fenfe of fo great a blefling, let 
 your joyful heart, praife and magnify fo good and glo- 
 rious a Creator. 
 
 Let therefore praife and thankfgiving, and oblation of 
 yourfelf unto God, be always the fixed and certain fub- 
 je£l of your firft prayers in the morning; and then take 
 the liberty of adding fuch other devotions, as the acci- 
 dental difference of your ftate, or the accidental differ- 
 ence of your heart, ihall then make moft needful and 
 expedient for you. 
 
 For one of the greatefl benefits, of private devotion, 
 conufts in rightly adapting our prayers to thefe two 
 conditions, the difference of our ilate, and the difference 
 of our hearts. 
 
 By the difference of our flate, Is meant the difference 
 of our external ftate or condition, as of ficknefs, health, 
 pains, loffes, difappointments, troubles, particular mer- 
 cies or judgments from God ; all forts of kindneffes, in- 
 juries, or reproaches from other people. 
 
 Now as thefe are great parts of our ft^te of life, as 
 
 they 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 185 
 
 they make great difference in it, by continually chang- 
 ing ; fo our devotion will be made doubly beneficial to 
 us, when it watches to receive and fanftify all thefe 
 changes of our ilate, and turns them all into fo many oc- 
 cafions of a more particular application to God of fuch 
 thankfgiviiigs, fuch refignation, fuch petitions as our 
 prefent ftate more efpecialiy requires. 
 
 And he that makes every change in his (late, a reafon 
 of prefenting unto God fome particular petitions fuitable 
 to that change, will foon find, that he has taken an ex- 
 cellent means, not only of praying with fervour, but of 
 living as he prays. 
 
 The next condition, to which we are always to adapt 
 fome part of our prayers, is the diftevence of our hearts; 
 by which is meant the diflerent flate of the tempers of 
 our hearts, as of love, joy, peace, tranquiUity ; dulnefs 
 and drynefs of fpirit, anxiety, difcontent, motions of en- 
 vy and ambition, dark and difconfolate thoughts, refent- 
 ments, fretfulnefs and peevifli tempers. 
 
 Now as thefe tempers, through the weaknefs of our 
 nature will have their fuccefTion more or lefs, even in 
 pious minds; fo we fhould conftantly make the prefent 
 ilate of our heart, the reafon of fome particular appli- 
 cation to God. 
 
 If we are in the delightful calm of fweet and eafy 
 palfions, of love and joy in God, we fhould then of- 
 fer the grateful tribute of thankfgiving to God, for 
 the poiTefTion of fo much happinefs, thankfully owing 
 and acknovv'ledging hiin as the bountiful Giver of it 
 all. 
 
 If on the other hand, we feel ourfelves laden with 
 heavy pafTions, with dulnefs of fpirit, anxiety and un- 
 eafinefs, we muft then look up to God in acts of humi- 
 lity, confeffing our unwortliinefs, opening our troubles 
 to him, befeeching him in his good tiiii^ to leffen the 
 weight of our infirm'.ties, and to deliver us from fuch 
 pafTions as oppofe the purity and perfection of our 
 fouls. 
 
 Now by thus watching, and attending to the prefent 
 ftate of our hearts, and fuiting fome of our petitions ex- 
 actly to their wants, we Ihall not only be well acquaint- 
 ed 
 
186 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ed with the diforders of our fouls, but alfo be well er- 
 
 ercifed in the method of curing them. 
 
 By this prudent and wife appUcation of our prayers, 
 we Ihall get all the relief from them that is pofRble ; and 
 the very changeablenefs of our hearts, will prove a 
 means of exerciling a greater variety of holy tempers. 
 
 Now by all that has here been faid, you will eafily 
 perceive, that perfons careful of the greateft benefit of 
 prayer, ought to have a great fhare in the forming and 
 compofrng their own devotions. 
 
 As to that part of their prayers, which is always fix- 
 ed to one certain fubje^t, in that they may ufe the help 
 of fome forms compofcd by other perfons ; but in that 
 part of their prayers, which they are always to fuit to 
 the prefent ftate of their hfe, and the prefent {late of 
 their heart. There they mult let the fenfe of their own 
 condition help them to fuch kinds of petition, thankfgiv- 
 ing, or refignation, as their prefent ilate more efpecially 
 requires, 
 
 Happy are they, v/ho have this bufinefs and employ- 
 ment upon their hands ! 
 
 And now, if people of leifure, whether men or wo- 
 men, who are fo much at a lofs how to difpofe of their 
 time, who are forced into poor contrivances, idle vifits, 
 and ridiculous diverfions, merely to get rid of hours that 
 hang heavily upon their hands ; if fuch were to appoint 
 fome certain Ipaces of their time, to the fludy of devo- 
 tion, fearching after all the means and helps to attain a 
 devout fpirit. If they were to collect the beft forms of 
 devotion, to ufe themfelves to tranfcribe the fineil pafla- 
 ges of fcripture prayers •, if they were to colleft the de- 
 votions, confelhons, petitions, praifes, refignations, and 
 thankfgivings, which are fcattered up and down in the 
 pfalms, and range tliem under proper heads, as fo 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 ma- 
 king them as habitual as their own thoughts, how fervent- 
 ly would they pray, who came thus prepared to pray- 
 er ? 
 
 And how much better would it be, to make this be- 
 nefic of leifure tijiic^ than to be duUy and idly loft in the 
 
 jpoojf 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 187 
 
 poor impertinences of aplayinor, viiiting, wandering 
 life ? 
 
 ?Iow much better would it be, to be thus furnifhed 
 with hymns and anthems of the faints, and teach their 
 fouls to afcend to God ; than to corrupt, bewilder and 
 confound their heart, with the wild fancies, the luftful^ 
 thoughts of lewd poets ? 
 
 Now though people of leifure feem called more par- 
 ticularly to this iludy of devotion, yet perfons of much 
 bufinefs or labour, mud not think themfelyes excufed 
 from this or fome 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 pQwer 
 over their hearts J to fecurc them from finking into world- 
 ly tempers, and preferve a fenfe and taite of heavenly 
 things in their mmds. And a little time regularly and 
 conltantly employed to any one ufe or end, will do great 
 things, and produce mighty effefts. 
 
 And it is for want of coniidering devotion in this light, 
 as fomething that is to be nurfed and cherifhed 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 beil helps ; it is 
 for want of confidering it in this light, that (o many 
 people are fo little benefited by it, and live and die 
 Ifrangers to that fpirit of devotion, which by a prudent 
 ufe of proper means, they might have enjoyed in a high 
 degree. 
 
 For though the fpirit of devotion is the gift of God, 
 and not attainable by any mere power of our own, yet 
 it is moftjy given, and never withheld, from thofe, who 
 by a wife and diligent ufe of proper means, prepare 
 themfelves for the reception of it. 
 
 And it is amazing to fee how eagerly men employ 
 their parts, their fagacity, time, fludy, application, and 
 exercife; how all helps are called to their afliftance, 
 when any thing is intended and defired in worldly mat- 
 ters ; and how dull, negligent, and unimproved they are, 
 how little they ufe their parts, fagacity, and abilities, to 
 laife and incrcafe their devotion ! 
 
 Mundanus is a niaa of e^vtellent partS; and clear ap- 
 
 jprehenliou 
 
188 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 prehenfion. He is well advanced in age, atid has made 
 a great figure in bufinefs. Every part of trade and bufi- 
 nefs that has fallen in his way, has had fome improve- 
 ment from him ; and he is always contriving to carry 
 every method of doing any thing well, to its greatelt 
 height. Mundanus aims at the greateft perfection in 
 every thing. The foundnefs and flrength of his mind, 
 and his juit way of thinking upon things, makes him in- 
 tent upon removing all imperfections. 
 
 He that can tell you all the defeats and errors in all 
 the common methods, whether of trade, building, or im- 
 proving land or manufactures. The clearnefs and 
 ftrength of his underftanding, which he is conftantly 
 improving, by continual exercife in thefe matters, by 
 often digeiling his thoughts in writing, and trying every 
 thing every way, has rendered him a great mafter of 
 moft concerns inhuman life. 
 
 Thus has Mundanus gone on, increafing his knov/- 
 ledge and judgment, as fall as his years came upon 
 him. 
 
 The one only thing, which is not fallen under his 
 improvement, nor received any benefit from his judici- 
 ous mind, is his devotion : This is juft in the fame poor 
 ftate it w 3, when he w-as only fix years of age : and 
 the old man prays now, in that little form of words, 
 which his mother ufed to hf ar him repeat night and 
 morning. 
 
 Thus Mundanus, that hardly ever faw the poorefl: 
 utenfil, or ever took the meaneit trifle into his hand, 
 without confidering how it might be made or ufed to 
 better advantage, has gone all his life long praying in. 
 the fame manner as Vv'hen he was a child ; without ever 
 confidering how m.uch better or oftener he might pray j- 
 without confidering how improveable the fpirit of devo- 
 tion is, how many helps a wife and reafonable man may 
 call to his aflifi;a. ce, and bow neceflary it is, that our 
 prayers fhould be enlarged, varied, and fuited to the 
 particular ftate ?nd condition of our lives. 
 
 If Mundanus fees a book of devotion, he pafiesitby, 
 as he does a fpeinng-book, becaufe he remembers that 
 he learned to pray fo many years ago under his mother^ 
 when he learnt to fpell* 
 
 Now 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 1^9 
 
 Now how poor and pitiable is the conduct of this 
 
 man of fenfe, v/ho has fo much iudgment and under- 
 
 ftanding in every thing, but that which is the whole wif- 
 
 dom of man ? 
 
 And how miferably do many people, more or lefs 
 imitate this condudl ? 
 
 All which feems to be owing to a ftrange infatuated 
 flate of negligence, which keeps people from confidering 
 what devotion is. For if they did but once proceed fo 
 far, as to reflecl about it, or afk themfelves any queftions 
 concerning it, they would foon fee, that the fpirit of de- 
 votion was like any other fenfe or understanding, that 
 is only to be improved by lluay, care, application, and 
 the ufe of fuch means and helps, as are necefTary to make 
 a man a proHcient in any art or fcience. 
 
 CiaiTicus is a man of learning, and well verfed in all 
 the beft authors of anriquity. He ha? read them fo 
 much» that he has entered into their fpirit, and can very 
 ingenioully imitate the manner of any of them. All 
 their thoughts are his thoughts, and he can exprefs him- 
 feif in their language. He is fo great a friend to thi^ 
 improvement of the mind, that if he lights of a young 
 fcholar he never fails to advife him concerning his flu- 
 dies. 
 
 ClalTicus tells his young man, he mufl; not think that 
 he has done enough, when he has only learnt languages; 
 but that he mult be daily converfant with the befl authors 
 read them again and again, catch their fpirit by living 
 with them, and that there is no other v/ay of becoming 
 like them, or of making himfelf a man of taile and judge- 
 ment. 
 
 How wife might Claflicus have been, and how much 
 good might he have done, in the v/orld, if he had but 
 thought as juftly of devotion, as he does of learning ? 
 
 He never, indeed, fays any thing (hocking or oifenfive 
 about devotion, becaufe he never thinks or talks about 
 it. It fUifers nothing from him, but negledl and difre- 
 gard. 
 
 The two teftaments v^ould not have had fo much as a 
 place amongft his books, but that they are both to be 
 had in Greek. 
 
 CiaiTicus thinks that he fuiTiciently {l:ev/s his regard 
 
 for 
 
190 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 for the holy fcripture, when he tells you, that he has no 
 other book of piety befides them. 
 
 It is very well, Clafiicus, 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 
 tlie bible, becaufe it is the belt. How comes it, Clafiicus, 
 that you do hot content yourfelf with one ot the belt 
 books amongil the Greeks and Romans .'' 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 
 necellary help to the knowledge of the other ? How 
 comes it that you are fo earnelt, fo laborious, fo expen- 
 five of time and your money to reilore broken periods 
 and fcraps of the ancients ? 
 
 How comes it that you read fo many commentators 
 upon Cicero, Horace, and Homer, and not one upon the 
 gofpel ? How comes it that your love of Cicero, and O- 
 vid, makes you love to read an author that writes like 
 them ; and yet your cfteeiU for the gofpel gives you 
 no defire, nay prevents your reading fuch books, a3 
 breathe the very fpirit of the gofpel ? 
 
 How comes it that you uAi your young fcholar, he 
 muit not content himfelf with barely underif anding his 
 authors, but muft be continually reading them all, as 
 the only means of entering into their fpirit, and forming 
 his own judgment according to them .'' 
 
 Why then muft the bible lie alone in your ftudy .'' Is 
 not the fpirit of the faints, the piety of the holy follow- 
 ers of Jcfus Chrift, as good and necellary a means of 
 entering into the fpirit and tafte of- the gofpel, as the 
 reading of the ancients is of entering into the fpirit 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 line, that 
 may give new wings to his fancy, or direct his imagina- 
 tion ? And is it not as veafonable for him, who defires 
 to improve in the divine life, that is, in the love of Iiea- 
 venl/ things, to fearch after every itrain of devotion, 
 
 that 
 
DEVOUT AND' HOLY LIFE. 191 
 
 that may move, kindle, and inflame the holy ardour of 
 his foul. 
 
 Do you advife your orator to tranflate the befl ora- 
 tions, to commit much of them to memory, to be fre- 
 quently exercifing his talent in this manner, that habits 
 of thinking and fpeaking juitiy may be formed in his 
 mind ? And is there not the fame benefit and advantage 
 to be made by books of devotion ? Should not a man ufe 
 them in the fame way, that habits of devotion, and a- 
 fpiring to God in holy thoughts, may be well formed in 
 his foul. 
 
 Now the reafon why ClafTicus does not think and 
 judge thus reafonably of devotion, is owing to his never 
 tliinking of it in any other manner, than as the repeating 
 a form of words. It never in his life entered into his 
 head, to think of devotion as a flate cf the heart, as an 
 improveable talent of the mind, as a temper that is to 
 grow and increafe like our reafon and judgment, and to 
 be formed in us by fuch a regular diligent ufe of proper 
 means, as are neceflary 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 bare letter of prayer, and eagerly 
 bent upon entering into the fpirit of heathen poets and 
 orators. 
 
 And it is much to be lamented, that numbers of fcho- 
 lars are more or Icfs chargeable with this exceffive roily; 
 fo negligent of improving their devotion, and fo dellrous 
 of other poor acccmplilhments, as* if they thought it a 
 nobler talciit, to be able to write an epigram in the turn 
 of Martial, tlian to live, and think, and pray to God, in 
 the fpirit of St Auftin. 
 
 And yet to corredl this temper, and fill a man with a 
 quite contrary fpirit, there feems to be no more required, 
 than the bare belief of the truth of Chriftianity. 
 
 And if you was to afk Mundanus and Ciafllcus, or 
 any man of bufinefs or learning, v/hether piety is not 
 the higheil perfection of man, or devotion the greateft 
 attainment in the world, they muit both be forced to an« 
 fwer in the aflirmative, or eife give up the truth of the 
 gofpel. 
 
 Por to fet any accomplifliment againft devotion, or to 
 
 think 
 
192 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 think any thing, or all things in the world, bears any 
 proportion to its excellency •, is the fame abiurdity in a 
 ChriO-ian, as it would be in a philofopher to prefer a 
 meal's meat, to the greateft improvement in knowledge. 
 For as philofophy profelTes purely the fearch and en- 
 quiry after knowledge ; fo Chriitianity fuppofes, in- 
 tends, defires and aims at nothing elfe, but the raifing 
 fallen man to a divine life, to fuch habits of holinefs, 
 fuch degrees of devotion, as may fit him to enter amongil 
 the holy inhabitants of the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 He that does not believe this of Chrlltianity, may be 
 reckoned an infidel ; and he that believes thus m/ach, 
 has faith enough to give him a right judgment of the 
 value of things, to fupport him in a found mind, and en- 
 able him to conquer ail the temptations which the world 
 fhail lay in his way. 
 
 To conclude this chapter. Devotion is nothing elfe 
 but right apprehenfions, and right affections towards 
 God. 
 
 All practices therefore that heighten and Improve our 
 true apprehenfions of God, all ways of life that tend to 
 nouriih, raife, and fix our afted^ions upon him, are to 
 be reckoned fo many helps and means to fill us with de- 
 votion. 
 
 As prayer is the proper fuel of this holy flame, fo we 
 muft ufe all our care and contrivance to give prayer its 
 full power *, as by alms, feif-denial, frequent retirements, 
 and holy readings, compofing forms for ourfelves, or 
 ufing the beft we can get, adding length of time, and ob- 
 ferving hours of prayer j changing, improving, and fuit- 
 ing our devotions to the condition of our lives, and the 
 Hate of our hearts. 
 
 Thofe who have moft leifure, feem more efpecially 
 called to a more eminent obfervance of thefe holy rules 
 of a devout life. And they, who by the neceifity of 
 their Hate, and not through their own choice, have but 
 little time to employ thus, mull make the belt ufe of that 
 little they have. 
 
 For this is the certain way of making devotion pro- 
 duce a devout life. 
 
 CHAP, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 193 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of chanting orjtngmg of pfalms in our private devotions, 
 Oj the excellency and benefit of this hind of devstlcn. Of 
 the great effects it hath upon our hearts. Of the means 
 of performing it in the hejl manner,. 
 
 YOU have feen 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 pray- 
 ers, and what is to be the lubje6t of your firft devotions 
 in the morning. 
 
 There is one thing dill remaining, that you muft be 
 required to obferve, not only as fit and proper to be done, 
 but as fuch as cannot be neglected, without great preju- 
 dice to your devotions. And that is, to begin all your 
 prayers v/ith a pfalm. 
 
 This is fo right, is fo beneficial to devotion, has fo 
 much effect upon our hearts, that it may be infilted upon 
 as a common rule for ail perfons. 
 
 I do not mean tliat you fhould read over a pfalm, but 
 that you fliould chant or fmg one of thofe pfalms, which 
 we common 7 call the reading pfalms For fniging is as 
 much the prefer ufe of a pfalm, as devout fupplication 
 is the proper uic of a form of prayer. And a pfalm on- 
 ly read, is very much like a prayer that is only looked 
 over. 
 
 Now the method of chanting a pfalm, fuch as is ufed 
 in the colleges, in the univerlities, and in fome churches, 
 is fuch as all perfons are capable of. The change of the 
 voice in thus chariting of a pfalm is fo fmall and natural, 
 that every body is able to do it, and yet futlicient to raife 
 and keep up tlie gladnefs of our hearts. 
 
 You are therefore to confider this chanting of a pfalm, 
 as a necefiary beginning of your devotions, as fomething 
 that is to awaken all that is good and holy within you, 
 that is to call your fpirits to their proper duty, to fet 
 you in your beil poilure towards heaven, and tune all 
 the powers of your foul to worfhip and adoration. 
 
 For 
 
194? A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 For there Is nothing that fo clears a way for your 
 prayets, nothing that fo difperfes dulnefs of heart, no- 
 thing that fo purities the foul from poor and little paf- 
 fions, iK3thing that fo opens heaven, or carries your heart 
 fo near It, as thefe fongs of praife. 
 
 They create a fenfe and delight In God, they awaken 
 holy defires, they teach you how to afk, and they pre- 
 vail with God to give. They kindle an holy flame, they 
 turn your heart into an altar, your prayers into incenfe, 
 and carry them as a fweet fmelling favour to the throne 
 of Grace. 
 
 The difrerence between finging and reading a pflam, 
 will eafily he underftood, if you confider the difierence 
 betv/een reading and finging a common fong that you 
 like. "Whilft you only read it, you only like k, and that 
 is all ; but foon as you fing it, then you enjoy it, you 
 feel the delight of it, It has got hold of you, your paf- 
 fions keep pace with It, and you feel the fame fpirit with- 
 in you, that there feems to be la the words. 
 
 If you was to tell a perfon that has fuch a fong, that 
 he need not fing It, that It was fufBcIent to perufe It 5 he 
 would wonder what you mean ; and would think you as 
 abfurd, as if you was to tell him, that he Ihould only 
 look at his food, to fee whether it was good, but need 
 not eat it ; For a fong of praife not fung. Is very like any 
 other good thing not made ufe of. 
 
 You v/ill perhaps fiiy, that fniging Is a particular ta- 
 lent, that belongs only to particular people, and that you 
 have neither voice nor ear to make any mufick. 
 
 If you had faid that finging is a general talent, and 
 that people differ in that as they do in all other things, 
 you had faid fomething much truer. 
 
 For hov/ vailly do people differ in the talent of think- 
 ing, which Is not only common to all men^ but feems to 
 be the very effence of human nature ! How readily do 
 fome people reafon upon every thmg : and how hardly 
 do others reafon upon any thing ! How clearly do fome 
 people difcourfe upon the molt abflrufe matters ? and 
 how confufedly do others talk upon the plainell fub- 
 jeas ! 
 
 Yet no one defires to be excufed from thought, or rea- 
 fon, or difcourfe, becaufe he has not thefe talents as 
 
 lome 
 
DEVOUT AKD HOLY LIFE. 195 
 
 Tome people have them. But it is full as jull, for a per- 
 fon to think himfelf excufed from thinking upon God, 
 from reafoniiag about his duty to him, or difcourfing a- 
 bout the means of falvation, becaufe he has not thefe ta- 
 lents in any fine degree j this is full as juft, as for a 
 perfon to think himfelf excufed from fmging the praifes 
 of God, becaufe he has not a fine ear, or a muncal 
 voice. 
 
 For as it is fpeaking, and not graceful fpeaking, that 
 is a required part of prayer j as it is bowing, and not gen- 
 teel bowing, tJiat is a proper part of adoration ; fo it is 
 ringing, 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 good an excufe 
 as he has, that forbears from fmging pfalms, becaufe he 
 has but little management of his voice. And as a man's 
 fpeaking his prayers, though in an odd tone, may yet 
 fufhciently anfwer all the ends of his own devotion; fo a 
 man's finging of a pfalm, though not in a very mufical 
 "way, may yet fufhciently anfwer all the ends of rejoicing 
 in, and praifmg God. 
 
 Secondlyy This obje£lion might be of fome weight, if 
 you was defired to fmg, to entertain other people; but is 
 not to be admitted in the prefent cafe ; where you are 
 only required to fix)g the praifes 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, v/as defired 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 
 fame reafon he fhould neglect his own private devo- 
 tions. 
 
 Nov/ this is exactly the cafe of fmging pfalms ; you 
 may not have the talen^of finging, fo as to be able to 
 entertain other people, and therefore it is reafonable to 
 excufe yourfelf from it ; but if for that reafon you 
 fhould excufe yourfelf from this way of praifmg God, 
 you would be guilty of a great abfurdity : becaufe fing- 
 ing is no more required for the mufic that is made by 
 it, than prayer is required for the fine words that it con- 
 tains, 
 
196 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 tains, but as it is the natural and proper expreffion of a 
 heart rejoicing in God. 
 
 Our blefled Saviour and his apoftles fung an hymn, 
 but it may reafonably be fuppofed, that they rather re- 
 joiced in God, than made line mufic. 
 
 Do but fo Hve, that your heart may truly rejoice in 
 God, that it may feel itfclf affected with the praifes of 
 God, and then you will find, that this ftate of your 
 heart will neither want a voice, nor ear, to find a tune 
 for a pfalm. Every one at fome time or other, finds 
 himfelf able to fmg in fome degree ; there ai*e fometimes 
 and occafions of joy, that make all people ready to ex- 
 prefs their fenfe of it in fome fort of harmony. The 
 joy that they feel, forces them to let their voices have a 
 part in it. 
 
 He therefore, that faith he wants a voice, or an ear, 
 to fing a pfalm, miftakes the cafe : he wants that fpirit 
 that really rejoices in God ; the dulnefs is in his heart, 
 and not in his ear ; and when his heart feels a true joy 
 in God, when it has a full reliOi of what is exprelTedin 
 the pfalms, he will find it very pleafant, to make the 
 motions of his voice exprefs the motions of his heart. 
 
 Singing indeed, as it is improved into an art, as it fig- 
 nifies the running of the voice through fuch or fuch a 
 compafs of notes, and keeping time with a Itudied vari- 
 ety of changes, is not natural, nor the effe£i: of any na- 
 tural ftate of the mind •, fo in this fenfe, it is not com- 
 mon to all people, any more than thofe antick and in- 
 vented motions, which make fine danqing, are common 
 to all people. 
 
 But fmging, as it fignifies a motion of the voice fuit- 
 able to the motions of the heart, and the changing of its 
 tone according to the meanhig of the words which v/e 
 utter, is as natural and common to all men, as it is to 
 fpeak high when they threaten in anger, or to fpeak 
 low when they are dejefted and afk for a pardon. 
 
 All men therefore -aie fingers, in the fame manner as 
 all men think, fpeak, laugh, and lament. For finging 
 is no more an invention, than grief or joy are inven- 
 tions. 
 
 Every ftate of the heart naturally puts the body into 
 fome ftate that is fuhable to it, and -is proper to fhew it 
 
 to 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 197 
 
 to Other people. If a man is angry, or ulfdainfal, no 
 one need inftrufSl him how to expvels thefe pailions by 
 the tone of liis voice. The ilate of his heart difpofes 
 him to a proper ufe of his voice. 
 
 If there are but few fingers of divine fongs, if people 
 want to be exhorted to tliis part of devotion ; it is be- 
 caufe there are but few, whofe hearts are raifed to that 
 height of piety, as to feel any motions of joy and deUght 
 in the praifes of God. 
 
 Imagine to yourfelf, that you had been v/ith Mofes 
 when he was led through the Red Sea ; that you had 
 feen the waters divide themfeh^es, and (land on an heap 
 on both fides j that you had feen them held up till you 
 had pafled through, then let fall upon your enemies -, do 
 you think that you fliould then have wanted a voice or 
 an ear to have fung with Mofes, The Lord is myjlrength 
 and my fong^ and he is become my falvatioii^ &C ? I knov/, 
 your own heart tells you, that all people mull have been 
 fingers upon fuch an occafion^ Let this therefore teach 
 you that it is the heart that tunes a voice to hng the 
 praifes of God ; and that if you cannot fing thefe fame 
 words now v/lth joy, it is becaufe you are not fo affected 
 with the falvation of the world by Jefus Chriit, as the 
 Jews v/ere, or you yourfelf would have been, with their 
 deliverance at the Red fea. 
 
 That it is the (late of the heart that difpofes us to re- 
 joice in any particular kind of finging, may be eafily 
 proved from variety of obfervations upon human nature. 
 An old debauchee may, according to the language of the 
 world, have neither voice nor ear, if you only ling a 
 pfaim, or a fong, in praife of virtue to hi'.n ; but yet if 
 in fome eafy tune you fing fomething that celebrates his 
 former debauchees, he will then, tliough he has no teeth 
 in his head, (hew you, that he has both a voice and an 
 fear to join in fuch mufic. You then awaken his heart 
 and he as naturally fmgs to fuch words, as he laughs 
 when he is pleafed. And this will be the cafe in every 
 fong that touches the heart ; if you celebrate the ruling 
 paihon of any mai:'s heart, you put his voice in tune to 
 join with you. 
 
 Thus if you can find a man, whofe ruling temper is 
 devotion^ M'hofe heart is full of God, his voice will re* 
 
 I joice 
 
198 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 joice in thofe fongs of praife, which glorify that God 
 that is the joy of his heart, though he has neither voice 
 nor ear for other mufic. Would you therefore dehght- 
 f ully perform this part of devotion, it is not fo necellary 
 to learn a tune, or practice upon notes, as to prepare 
 your heart ; for, as our blefled Lord faith, out of the 
 heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, &c. foit is equal- 
 ly true, that out of the heart proceed holy joys, thankf- 
 giving and praife. If you can once fay with David, 
 jlly heart is fixed , O Gud, my heart is fixed ; it will be 
 very eafy and natural to add, as he did, / %villfingy and 
 give praife i &c. 
 
 Secottdlyy Let us nov/ confider another reafon for this 
 kind of devotion. As Tinging is a natural efFe£l: of joy 
 in the heart, fo it has alfo a natural power of rendering 
 the heart joyful. 
 
 The foul and bo:ly are fo united, that they have each 
 of them pov/er over one another in their alliens. Cer- 
 tain thoughts and fentiments in the foul, produce fuch 
 and fuch motions or a6lions in the body j and on the 
 other hand, certain motions and actions of the body, 
 have the fame power of raifmg fuch and fuch thoughts 
 and fentiments in the foul. So that as fmging is the na- 
 tural effecSl of joy in the mind, fo it is as truly a natural 
 £aufe of raifmg joy in the mind. 
 
 As devotion of the heart naturally breaks out into out- 
 ward afts of prayer, fo outward ads of prayer are na- 
 tural means of raifmg the devotion of the heart. 
 
 It is thus in all dates and tempers of the mind ; as the 
 inward ilate of the mind produces outward actions fuit- 
 able to it, fo thofe outward actions have the like power 
 of raifmg an invvard ftate of mind fuitable to them. 
 
 As anger produces angry words, fo angry words in- 
 creafe anger. 
 
 So that if we barely confider human nature, we (liall 
 find, that fmging or chanting the Pfalms, is as proper and 
 neceffary to raife our hearts to a delight in God, as pray- 
 er is proper and neceffkry to excite in us the fpirit of de- 
 votion. Every reafon for one, is in all refpedls as ftrong 
 a reafon for the other. 
 
 If therefore you would know the reafon and neceflity 
 of fmging Pfalms, you muft confider the reafon and ne- 
 
 ceflity 
 
DEVOUT ANt) HOLY LIFE. 199 
 
 Ceflity of praifing and rejoicing in God; becaiife finging* 
 of Pfalms is as much the true exercife and fupport 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 practice of fmging pfalms. Be- 
 caufe this fmging is as much the natural language of 
 praife and thankfgiving, as prayer is the natural language 
 of devotion. 
 
 The union of foul and body is not a mixture of their 
 fubftances, as we fee bodies united and mixed together 
 but confifts folely in the mutual power that they have 
 of a61:ing upon one another. 
 
 If two perfons were in fuch a flate of dependance 
 upon one another, that neither of them could ad:, or 
 move, or think, or feel, or fuffer, or dcfire any thing, 
 without putting the other into the fame condition, one 
 might properly fay, that they were in a (trict union, al- 
 though their fubflances were not united together. 
 
 Now this is the union of the foul and body -, the fub • 
 ftance of the one cannot be mixed or united with the o- 
 ther ; but they are held together in fuch a ftate of uni- 
 on, that ail the a6lions and fufferings of the one, are at 
 ^he fame time the alliens and fufferings of the other. 
 The foul has no thought or pallion, but the body is con- 
 cerned in it ; the body has no adlion or motion, but what 
 in fome degree effects the foul. 
 
 Now as it is the fole v/iil of God, that is the reafon 
 and caufe of all the powers and efFefts which you fee in 
 the world ; as the fun gives light and heat, not becaufe 
 it has any natural power of fo doing; as it is fixed in a 
 certain place, and other bodies move about it : not be- 
 caufe it is in the nature of the fun to ftand flill, and in 
 the nature of other bodies to move about it ; but merely 
 becaufe it is the will of God, that they (liould be in fuch 
 a ftate. As the eye is the organ or initrument of feeing, 
 not becaufe the (kins, and coats, and humours of the eye> 
 have a natural power of giving fight : As the ears are 
 the organs or inftrument of hearing, not becaufe the 
 make of the ear has any natural power over founds, but 
 merely becaufe it is the will of God, that feeing and 
 
 I 2 hearinjr 
 
200 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Jiearing fhould be thus received : So in like manner it is 
 the fole will of God, and not the nature of a human 
 foul or body, that is the caufe of this union betwixt the 
 foul and the body. 
 
 Now if you rightly apprehend this fhiort account of 
 the union of the foul and body, you will fee a great 
 deal into the reafon and necefTity of all the outward 
 parts of religion. 
 
 This union of our fouls and bodies, is the reafon both 
 why w^e have fo little and fo much power over ourfelves. 
 It is owing to this union that we have fo little power o- 
 ver our fouls j for as we cannot prevent the effects of 
 external objects upon our bodies ; as we cannot com- 
 mand outward caufes ; fo we cannot always command 
 the inward (late of our minds -, becaufe, as outward ob- 
 jefts act upon our bodies without our leave, fo our bo- 
 dies aci: upon our minds by the lav/s of the union of the 
 foul and the body : And thus you fee it is owing to this 
 union, that we have fo little pov/er over ourfelves. 
 
 On the other hand, it is owing to this union, that we 
 have fo much power over ourfelves. For as our fouls in 
 a great meafure depend upon our bodies ; and as we 
 have great power over our bodies ; as we command our 
 outward actions, and oblige ourfelves to fuch habits of 
 life, as naturally produce habits in the foul; as we can 
 mortify our bodies, and remove ourfelves from obje£ts 
 that inflame our paflions ; fo we have a great power over 
 the inv/ard ftate of our fouls. Again, as we are mafters 
 of our outward actions ; as we can force ourfelves to 
 outward a6ts of reading, praying, fmging, and the like ; 
 iind as all thefe bodily actions have an effedt upon the 
 foul, as they naturally tend to form fuch and fuch tem- 
 pers in our hearts •, fo by being mailers of thefe outward, 
 bodily atStions, v/e have great power over the inward 
 ftate of the heart. 
 
 And thus it is owing to this union, that we have fo 
 jnuch pov/er over ourfelves. 
 
 Now from this you may alfo fee the neceflity and 
 benefit of fmging Pfalms, and of all the outward acts 
 of religion •, for if the body has fo much power over the 
 foul, it is certain that all fuch bodily a(Sions as afFe6t 
 the foul, are of great weight in religion. Not as if there 
 
 was 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 20 1 
 
 was any true worlhip or piety in the a6tions themfL4ves, 
 but becaufe they are proper to raife and tupport that 
 fpirit, which is the true worfliip of God. 
 
 Tliough therefore the ieat of leiigion is in the heart, 
 yet fince our bodies have a power over our hearts, fmce 
 outward anions both proceed from, and enter into the 
 heart, it is plain, that outward actions h?ve a great 
 power over that reHgion which is feated m t.e i 'art. 
 
 We are therefore as well to ufe outward ;r?ips, as in- 
 ward meditation, in order to beget and fixhab-s cf piety 
 in our hearts. 
 
 This doclrine may be eafily carried too far ; for by 
 calling in too many outward means of worfhip, it may 
 degenerate into fuperflition : as on the other hand, fome 
 have fallen into the contrary extreme. For becaufe re- 
 ligion is juftly placed in the heart, iome have purfued 
 tiiat notion fo far, as to renounce vocal prayer, and o- 
 ther outward acts of worfhip, and have refolved all re- 
 ligion into a quietifm, or myllic intercourfes with God 
 in fileace. 
 
 Now thefe are two extremes equaUy prejudicial to true 
 religion •, and ought not to be objected either againit 
 internal or external worfhip. As you ought not to fay, 
 that I encourage that quietifm, by placing religion in 
 the heart ; fo neither ought you to fay that I encourage 
 fuperllition, by (hewing the benefit of outward acts of 
 worfiiip. 
 
 For fince we are neither all foul, nor all body *, feeing 
 none of our actions are either feparateiy of the foul, or 
 feparately of the bodyi feeing we have no habits but 
 fuch as are produced by the actions both of our foulsi 
 and bodies; it is certaiji, that if we v/ould arrive at ha- 
 bits of devotion, or delight in God, we mail not on!y 
 meditate and exercife ,our fouls, but we rnuil pracl:ife 
 and exercife our bodies to ail fuch outward a£tions, as 
 are conformable to ihefe inv/ard tenipers. 
 
 If v/e would truly proftrate our fouis before God, we 
 muft ufe our bodies to poltures of lowlinefs. If \ye de- 
 fire true fervour of devotion, we muft make prayer the 
 frequent labour of our lips. If we would banifh all 
 pride and palhon from our hearts, we mull force our- 
 lelves to all outv/ard a(5tions of patience and meeknefs. 
 
 13 If 
 
202 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 If we would feel motions of joy and delight in God, 
 we muft pracStife all the outward acSts of it, and make 
 our voices call upon our hearts. 
 
 Now therefore, you may plainly fee the reafon and 
 necefhty of fmging of Pfalms ; it is becaufe outward ac- 
 tions are neceflary to fupport inward tempers ; and 
 therefore the outward a6l of joy is neceflary to raife and 
 fupport the inward joy of the mind. 
 
 If any people were to leave off prayer, becaufe 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 reafonable, 
 that they fhall continue their prayers, and be ftri6l in 
 obferving all times of prayer, as the moil likely means 
 of removing the dulnefs and indevotion of their hearts. 
 
 Now this is very much the cafe as to finging of pfalms, 
 people often hng without finding any inward joy fuita- 
 ble to the words whicii they fpeak j therefore they are 
 carelefs of it, or wholly neglect it ; not confidering that 
 they acl as abfurdly, as he that ihould neglecl prayer, 
 becaufe his heart was not enough alFecled witli it. For 
 t is certain, that this finging is as much the natural 
 means of raifmg motions of joy in the mind, as praye;r 
 is tlie natural means of raifing devotion. 
 
 I have been the longer upon this head, becaufe of its 
 great importance to true religion. For there is no itate 
 cf mind fo holy, fo excellent, and fo truly perfe6t, as 
 that of thankfulnefs to God ^ and confequently nothing 
 is of more importance in religion, than that which ex- 
 ercifes and improves this habit of mind. 
 
 A dull, uncafy, complaining fpirit, which is fometimes 
 the fpirit of thofe that feem careful of religion, is yet of 
 all tempers the moll contrary to religion, for it difowns 
 that God which it pretends to adore. For he fuihcient- 
 ly dilbwns 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 happens by chance, but all is 
 o-uided and directed by the care and providence of a be- 
 ing that is all love and goodnefs to all his creatures -, if 
 a man do not believe this from his heart, he cannot be 
 iaid truly to believe in God. And yet he that has this 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 203 
 
 faith, hath faith enough to overcome the world, and al- 
 ways be thankful to God. For he that believes that 
 every thing happens to him for the beft, cannot poffibly 
 complain for the want of fomething that is better. 
 
 If therefore you live in murmurings and complaints, 
 accufmg all the accidents of life, it is not becaui'e you 
 are a weak, infirm creature, but it is becaufe you want 
 the firft principle of religion, a right belief in God. For 
 as thankfulnefs is an exprefs acknowledgment of the 
 goodnefs of God, towards you, fo repinings and com- 
 plaints are as plain accufations of God's want of good- 
 nefs towards you. 
 
 On the other hand, would you know who is the 
 greatefl faint in the world ? It is not he who prays molt, 
 or fads moft ; it is not he who gives moil alms, or is 
 moll eminent for temperance, chaility, or juitice ; but 
 it is he who is always thankful to God, who v/ills every 
 thing that God wiileth, 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, faPtings and repentance, 
 meditation and retirement, all facraments and ordi- 
 nances, are but fo many means to render the foul thus 
 divine and conformable 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 many falfe ornaments of a foul not converted un- 
 to God. 
 
 You need not therefore now wonder, that I lay fo 
 much flrefs upon fmging a pfalm at all your devotions, 
 fnice you fee it is to form your fpirit to fuch joy and 
 thankfulnefs to God, as is the higheft perfection of a di- 
 vine and holy life. 
 
 If any one would tell you the fhorteft, furefl way to 
 all happinefs, and all perfection, he mull tell you to 
 make it a rule to yourfolf, to thank and praife God 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 
 yourfelf, than by this thankful fpirit, for it heals with 
 
 14? a word 
 
904f A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 a wora fneaking, and turns all that it touches into hap- 
 pineis. 
 
 If therefore you would be? fo trus to your eternal iii- 
 tereft, as to propofe this il:;!nk/ulnefs as the end of all 
 your religion ; if you would but fettle it in your mind, 
 th-ic ihis was the llate tiiat you was to aim at by ail 
 your devotions; you would dien h.ive fomething plain 
 and vifiblo to walk by in aii your adlions, you would 
 then eafilv fee tlie eiFecl of your virtues, and might 
 faicly judi'eof your improvement in piety. For fo far 
 as you renounce all felfilh tempers and inotions of your 
 own vvili, and feek for no otiier happinefs, but in the 
 thankfai reception of every thing that happens to you, 
 fo far ycu may be fafely reckoned to have advanced in 
 piety. 
 
 A-.d although this be tlie higheft temper that you 
 can aim at, though it be the nobleil facrifice that the 
 greateit faint can oirer unto God, yet it is not tied to 
 any tiine, or place, ot great occafion, but is alv/ays in 
 your power, and may be the excrcifo of every day. For 
 the common events of every day are fuihcient to difco- 
 ver aiid exercile this temper, and may plainly ihew you 
 how far you are governed in aii your actions by this 
 thankful fpirit. 
 
 And for tliis reafon I exhort you to this method in 
 your devotion, that every day may be made a day of 
 thankfgiving, and that thu fpirit of murmur and difcon- 
 tent may be unable to enter into tlie heart, which is fo 
 often employed in linging the praifes of God. 
 
 It may perhaps after all be objecled, that although 
 the great benelit, and excellent eiiedts of this practice, 
 are very apparent, yet it feems not altogether fo fit for 
 private devotions j hnce it can hardly be performed with- 
 out making our devotions public to other people, and 
 feems alfo liable to the charge of founding a trumpet at 
 our prayers. 
 
 It is therefore anfwered, Fijjl, 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 hov/cver it may be fo to otliers, is none 
 to them. Therefore let fuch take the benefit of this ex- 
 cellent devotioQ. 
 
 Secondly^ 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 205 
 
 Secofidly, Numbers of people are by the necefTity of 
 their ftate, as fervants, apprentices, prifoners, and fami- 
 lies in fmall houfes, forced to be continually in the pre- 
 fence or fight of fomebody or other. 
 
 Now are fuch perfons to negle6l their prayers, be- 
 caufe they cannot pray without being feen? Are they 
 not rather obliged to be more exa£i: in them, that others 
 may not be witnefTes of their neglect, and fo corrupted 
 by their example ? 
 
 Now what is here faid of devotion, may furely be 
 faid of this chanting a pfalm, v/hich is only a part of 
 devotion. 
 
 The rule is this ; Don't pray that you may be feeri 
 of men, but if your confinement obliges you to be al- 
 ways in the fight of others, be more afraid of being 
 feen to negle£l, than of being feen to have recourfe to 
 prayer. 
 
 Thirdly^ The ft ate of the matter is this. Either peo- 
 ple can ufe fuch privacy in this practice, as to have no 
 hearers, or they cannot. If they can, then this objec- 
 tion vaniflies as to them : and if they cannot, they fliould 
 confider their confinement, and the neceiTities of their 
 ftate, as the confinement of a prifon ; and then they 
 have an excellent pattern to follov/, they may imitate St. 
 Paul and SilaSj who fang praifes to God in prifon> 
 though we are exprefsly told, that the prifoners heard 
 them. They therefore did not refrain from this kind o£ 
 devotion for fear of being heard by others. If therefore 
 any one is in the fame necefTity, either in prifon or out 
 of prifon, what can he do better^ than to follow this ex- 
 ample ? 
 
 I cannot pafs by this place of fcripture, without de- 
 firing the pious reader to obferve how flrongly we are 
 here called upon to this ufe of pfalms,.and what a mighty- 
 recommendation of it, the practife of thefe two great 
 faints is. 
 
 In this their great diftrefs in prifon, in chains, under 
 the forenefs of ftripes, in the horror of night, the di- 
 vinefi:, holiefl thing they could ^o<^ was to fing praifes- 
 unto God. 
 
 And fhall we, after this, need any exhortation to this 
 
 lioly practice ? Shall we let the day pafs without fuch 
 
 I 5 tliankf^ 
 
206 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 thankfgivlngs as they would not negle£t in the night. ** 
 Shall a prKon, chains and darknefs, furniili them with 
 fongs of praife, and fliall we have no fmgings in our 
 clolets ? 
 
 Further, let it alfo be obferved, that while thefe two 
 holy men were thus employed in the mod exalted 
 part of devotion, doing that on earth, which angels do 
 in heaven, th-Sit the fomiilations of the prifon ivereJJjaken, 
 all the doors ".vere opeuedy and every one's hands ivere 
 loojed. Acts xvi. 26. 
 
 And fliall we now alk for motives to this divine ex- 
 ercife, when, inftead of arguments, we have here fuch 
 miracles to convince us of this mighty power with 
 God } 
 
 Could God by a voice from heaven more exprefsly 
 call us to thefe fongs of praife, than by thus fliewing 
 us, how he hears, delivers, and rewards thofe that ufe 
 them ? 
 
 But this by the way. I now return to the obje61;ion 
 in hand \ and anfwer. Fourthly, That the privacy of 
 our prayers, is not deftroyed by our having, but by our 
 feeking witnefies of them. 
 
 If therefore nobody hears you but thofe you cannot 
 feparate yourfelf from, you are as much in fecret, and 
 your Father who feeth in fecret, will as truly reward 
 your fecrecy, as if you was feen by him alone. 
 
 Fifthly, Private prayer, as it is oppofed to prayer in 
 public, does not fuppofe that no one is to have any wit- 
 nefs of it. For hufbands and wives, brothers and f]fl:ers, 
 parents, and children, maiters and fervants, tutors and 
 pupils, are to be witnefies to one another of fuch devo- 
 tion, as may truly and properly be called private. It 
 is far fron\ being a duty to conceal fuch devotion from 
 fuch near relations. 
 
 In all thefe cafes therefore, where fuch relations 
 fometim.es pray together in private and fometimes apart 
 by themfelves, the chanting of a Pfalm can have nothing 
 obje6led againlt it. 
 
 Our blefi^ed Lord, comm.ands us when we faft, tty 
 anoint our heads and ivaJJj cur faces^ that lue appear net 
 witQ men tofajl^ hut unto our J^^atker which is in fecret. 
 
DLVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 207 
 
 But this only means, that we mud not make public 
 oftentation to the world of our fading. 
 
 For if no one was to fail in private, or could be faid 
 to fad in private, but he that had no witnelTes of it, no 
 one could keep a private fad, but he that lived by him- 
 felf: For every family mud know who fa'ls in it. Tliere- 
 fore the privacy of fading does not fuppofe fuch a 
 privacy, as excludes every body from knowing it, but 
 fuch a privacy as does not feek to be known abroad. 
 
 Cornelius the devout centurion, of whom the fcrip- 
 ture faith, that he gave much, and prayed to God ahvajy 
 faith unto St Peter, Four days ago, I -was fajiing until 
 this hour, A6ls x. 2. 
 
 Now that this fading was fufficiently private and 
 acceptable to God, appears from the vifion of an an- 
 gel, with which the holy man was bleiTed at that 
 time. 
 
 But that it was not io private, as to be entirely un- 
 known to others, appears, as from the relation of it 
 here, fo from what is faid in another place, that he 
 called two of his houjhold ferva'nts, and a devout foldier of 
 them that waited upon him continually. So that Corne- 
 lius his fading was fo far from being unknown to his 
 family, that the foldiers and they of his houfliold were 
 made devout themfelves, by continually waiting upon 
 him, that is, by feeing and partaking of his good 
 works. 
 
 As therefore the privacy or excellency of fading is not 
 dedroyed by being known to fome particular perfons, 
 neither v/ould the privacy or excellency of your devo- 
 tions be hurt, though by chanting a pfahii you Hiould be 
 heard by fome of your tamily. 
 
 The whole of the matter is this. Great part of the 
 world can be as private as they plcafe, therefore let 
 them uie this excellent devotion between God and 
 themfelves. 
 
 Another great part of the world mud and ought to 
 have witnefies of feveral of their devotions ; let them 
 therefore not negle6l the ufe of a Pfalm at fuch times 
 as it ought to be known to thofe with whom they live, 
 that tiicy do not negled: their prayers. For furely, there 
 can be no harm in being known to be Tmging a PlVilm, 
 
208 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 at fuch times as it ought to be known that you are at 
 your prayers. 
 
 And if at other times you denre to be in fuch fecrecy 
 at your devotions, as to have nobody fufpe£t it, and for 
 that reafon forbear your Pfahnj I have nothing to ob- 
 ject againft it ; provided, that at the known hours of 
 prayer, you never omit this pra6tice. 
 
 For who would not be often doing that in the day, 
 •which St Paul and Silas would not negle6l in the mid- 
 dle of the night ? And if, v/hen you are thus Tinging, it 
 fhould come into your liead, liow the prifon fhaked, and 
 the doors opened, when St Paul fang, it would do your 
 devotion no harm. 
 
 Laftiy, Seeing our imagitiatlons have great power 
 over our hearts, and can mightily affe6l us with their re- 
 prefentations, it would be of great ufe to you, if at the 
 beginning of your devotions, you was to imagine to 
 yOurfelf fome fuch reprefentations, as might heat and 
 ■u^arm your heart into a temper fuitable tothofe prayers 
 that you are then about to offer unto God. 
 
 As thus; before you begin your Pfalm of praife and 
 rejoicing in God, make this ufe of your imagination. 
 
 Be Hill, and im.agine to yourfelf, that you faw the 
 heavens open, and the glorious choirs of Cherubims 
 and Seraphims about the throne of God. Imagine that 
 you hear the mufic of thofe angelic voices that ceafe 
 not day and night to fing the glories of him that is, and 
 was, and is to come. 
 
 Help your imaginations with fuch pafTages of fcrip- 
 ture as thefe. Rev. vii. 9. " I beheld, and lo, in hea- 
 ven a great multitude which no man could number, of 
 all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, 
 {landing before the throne, and before the Lamb, cloath- 
 ed with white robes, and palms in their hands. And 
 they cried with a loud voice, Salvation to our God which 
 {itteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. 
 
 And all the angels flood round about the throne, and 
 fell before the throne on their faces, and worfhipped 
 God, faying, Amen : Blelling, and glory, and power, 
 and (Irength, be unto God, for ever and ever. Amen.'* 
 
 Think upon this, till your imagination has carried you 
 above the clouds, till it has placed you amongft thofe 
 
 Jbeavenly 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. . 209 
 
 heavenly beings, and made you long to bear a part in 
 their eternal mufic. 
 
 If you will but ufe yourfelf to this method, and let 
 your imagination dwell among fuch reprefentations as 
 thefe, you will foon find it an excellent means of rainng 
 the fpirit of devotion within you. 
 
 Always therefore begin your Pfalm or fong of praife> 
 with thefe im.aginationsj and at every verfe of it, imagine 
 yourfelf amongfh thofe heavenly companions, that your 
 voice is added to theirs, and that angels join with you, 
 and you with them ; and that you wi^h a poor and low 
 voice, are fmging that on earth, which they are linging 
 in heaven. 
 
 Again, Sometimes Imagine that you had been one of 
 thofe that joined with our bleiied Saviour when he fung 
 an hymn. Strive to imagine to yourfelf, with what ma- 
 jeity he looked ; fancy that you had flood clofe by him, 
 furrounded with his glory. Think how your heart would 
 have been inflamed, what ecftacies of joy you would 
 have then felt, when fmging with the Son of God» 
 Think again and again, with what joy and devotion 
 you would then have fung, had this been really your 
 happy ftate, and what a puniihment you fliould have 
 thought it, to have been then filent ; and let this teach 
 you how to be affected with Pfalms and Hymns of thankf- 
 giving.^ 
 
 Again, Sometimes imagine to 3'ourfelf, that you faw 
 holy David v/ith his hands upon his harp, and his eyes 
 fixed upon heaven, calling with trail fport on the Crea- 
 tion, fun and moon, light and darknefs; day and night, 
 men and angels, to join with his rapturous foul in prai- 
 fing the Lord of heaven. 
 
 Dwell upon this imagination, till you think you are 
 finging with this divine mufician, and let fuch a compa- 
 nion teach you to exalt your heart unto God in the fol- 
 lowing Pfalmj which you may ufe conltantly firit in the 
 morning. 
 
 Pfalm cxlv. / luill magnify thee, O God my king : I 
 ivill praife thy name for ever and ever, &e. 
 
 Thefe following Pfalms, as the 34rth, 96th, 103d, 
 1 11th, 14-6th, 147th, are fuch as wonderfully fet forth 
 the glory of God ; and therefore you may keep to any 
 
 one 
 
210 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 one of them at any particular hour, as you like : Or 
 you may take the fineft parts of anyPfalms, and lo ad- 
 ding them tog-ether, may make them fitter for your own 
 devotion. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Recommending devotion at nine o^ clock in the mornings called 
 in Jcripiure^ the third hour of the day. The JubjeEl of 
 thefe praytrs^ is humility. 
 
 I AM now come to another hour of prayer, which in 
 Scripture is called the third hour of the day; but ac- 
 cording to our way of numbering the liours, it is called 
 the ninth hour of tho morning. 
 
 The devout Chriilian muft at this time look upon 
 himfelf as called upon by God to renew his a6ls of 
 prayer, and addrcfs 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 
 confidered alfo, that neither is there an exprefs command 
 to begin and end the day with prayer. So that if that 
 be iooked upon as a reaion for negleiling devotion at 
 this hour, it may as well be urged as a reafon for ne- 
 glecting devotion both at the begining and end of the 
 day. 
 
 But if the pra£lice of the faints in all ages of the 
 world, if the cuftoms of the pious Jews and primitive 
 Chriftians be of any force with us, we have authority 
 enough to perfuade us, to make this hour a confiant 
 feafon of devotion. 
 
 The fcripturcs {hew us how this hour was confecrated 
 to devotion, both by Jews and Chriftians : fo that if we 
 defire to number ourfelves ampngft thofe whofe hearts 
 were devoted unto God, we muft not let this hour pafs, 
 without prefenting us to him in fome folemnities of de»- 
 votion. And befides this authority for this pra£lice, the 
 reafonablenefs of it is fuflicient to invite us to the ob- 
 fervange of it, 
 
 Fot 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. '211 
 
 For if you was up at a good time in the morning-, 
 your firft devotions will have been at a proper dillance 
 from this hour : you will have been long enough at 
 oth'^r bufinefs, to make it proper for you to return to 
 this greatefl of all bufinefs, the raifnig your foul and 
 ^iffeftions unto God. 
 
 But if you have, rifen fo late, as to be hardly able 
 to" begin your hril devotions at this hour, whicli is pro- 
 per for your fecond, you may thence learn that the in- 
 dulging yourfelf in the morning lleep is no fmall m,at- 
 teri fmce it fets you fo far back in your devotions, and 
 robs you of thofe graces and bleiiings, which are obtain- 
 ed by frequent prayers. 
 
 For if prayer has power with God, if it loofes the 
 bands of fin, if it purities the foul, reforms our hearts, 
 and draws down the aids of divine grace; how can that 
 be reckoned a fmali matter, which robs us of an hour of 
 prayer ? 
 
 Imagine yourfelf fomewhere placed in the air, as a 
 fpe£lator of all that palTes in the world-, and that you faw 
 in one view, the devotions which all Chriilian people 
 offer unto God every day. Imagine that you faw fome 
 pioufly dividing the day and night, as the primitive 
 chriftians did, and conilant at all hours of devotion, 
 fmging pfalms, and calling upon God, at all thofe times, 
 that faints and martyrs received their gilts and graces 
 from God. 
 
 Imagine that you faw others living without any rules, 
 as to times and frequency of prayer, and only at their 
 devotions fooner or later, as fleep and lazinefs happens 
 to permit them. 
 
 Now if you was to fee this, as God fees it, how do 
 you fuppofe you fliould be affected with this fight? What 
 judgment do you imagine you fliould pafs upon thefe 
 different forts of people ? Could you think, that thofe 
 who were thus exadi in their rules of devotion, got no- 
 thing by" their exa6lnefs? Could you think, that their 
 prayers were received juft in the fame manner, and pro- 
 cured them no more biefTings, than theirs do, who pre- 
 fer lazinefs and indulgence to times and rules of devo- 
 tion ? 
 
 Could you take the one to be as true fervants of 
 
 God; 
 
212 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 God, as the other ? Could you imagine, that thofe who 
 were thus different in their Hves, would find no differ- 
 ence in their ftates after death ? Could you think it a 
 matter of indifferency, to which of thefe people you 
 were inofl like ? 
 
 If not, let it be now your care to join yourfelf to that 
 number of devout people, to that focie.;\' of faints, a- 
 mongft whom you defire to be found, when you leave 
 the world. 
 
 And although the bare number and repitition of our 
 prayers is of little value, yet fince prayer rightly and at- 
 tentively performed, is the moft natural means of am.end- 
 ing and purifying our hearts; fmce importunity and fre- 
 quency in prayer is as much preffed upon us by fcrip- 
 ture, as prayer itfelf, we may be fure, that when we are 
 frequent and importunate in our prayers, we are taking 
 the beft means of obtaining the higheil benefits of a de- 
 vout life. 
 
 And on the other hand, they who through negligence, 
 lazinefs, or any other indulgence, render themfelves 
 either unable, or uninclined to obferve rules and hours of 
 devotion, we may be fure, that they deprive themfelves 
 of thofe graces and blefhngs which an exact and fervent 
 devotion procures from God. 
 
 Now as this frequency of prayer is founded in the 
 do6Lrines of fcripture, and recommended to us by the 
 pra6lice of the true worfliippers of God ; fo we ought 
 not to think ourfelves excuied from it, but where we 
 can fhew, that we are fpending our time in fuch buil- 
 nefs, as is more acceptable to God, than thefe returns of 
 prayer. 
 
 Leaft of all muft we imagine, that dulnefs, negligence, 
 indulgence, or diverfions, can be any pardonable excufes 
 for our not obferving an exafb and frequent method of 
 devotion. 
 
 If you are of a devout fpirit, you will rejoice at thefe 
 returns of prayer, which keep your foul in an holy enjoy- 
 ment of God ; which change your pallions into divine 
 love, and fill your heart with ilrongerjoys and confola- 
 tions^than you can poffibly meet within any thing elfe. 
 And if you are not of a devout fpirit, then you are 
 jxioreover obliged to this frequency of prayer, to train 
 
 arid 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 2J3 
 
 and exercife your heart into a true fenfe and feeling of 
 devotion. 
 
 Now feeing the holy fpirit of the Chriilian Religion, 
 and the example of the faints of ali ages, calls upon you 
 thus to divide the day into hours of pra^^er; fo it will 
 be highly beneficial to you, to make a right choice of 
 thofe matters which are :o be the fubje£i; of yom" prayers, 
 and to keep every hour of prayer appropriated to fome 
 particular fuhject, which y^u may alter or enlarge, ac- 
 cording as the iiate you are in requires. 
 
 By tnis means, you will have an opportunity of being 
 large and particular in all the parts of any virtue or 
 grace, which you then make the fubje6l of your prayers. 
 And by aiking for it in ali its parts, and making it the 
 fubitance of a whole prayer once every day, you wdll 
 foon find a mighty change in your heartj and that you 
 cannot thus condantiy pray for all the parts of any 
 virtue every duv of your life, and yet live the reit of the 
 day contrary to it. 
 
 If a woridly-minded man was to pray every day a- 
 gainit all the inflances of a worldly temper; if he (hould 
 make a large defuription of the temptations of covetguf- 
 nefs, and defire God to aiTifi: him to rejecl them all, 
 and to difappoint him in ail his covetous defigns, he 
 wou'd find his confcience fo much av/akened, that he 
 v/ould be forced eitner co forfake fuch prayers, or to for- 
 fake a worldly life. 
 
 Tlie fame will hold true, in any other inftance. And 
 if we aik, and have not, it is becaufe we afk amifs. Be- 
 caufe Vv^e aik in cold and general forms, fuch as only 
 name the virtues without defcribing their particular parts, 
 fuch as are not enough particular to our condition, and 
 therefore make no change in our hearts. Whereas v/hen 
 a man enumerates ali the parts of any virtue in his 
 prayers, his confcience is thereby awakened, and he is 
 frightened at feeing how far (hort he is of it. And this 
 liirs him up to an ardour in devotion, v/hen he fees 
 how much he wants of that virtue which he is praying 
 for. 
 
 I have in the lafl chapter laid before you the excel- 
 lency of praife and thankfgiving, and recommended that 
 as thefubjecc of vour firit devotions in the morning. 
 
 And 
 
214 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 And becaufe an humble ftate of foul is the very ftate 
 of Religion, becaufe humUity is the life and foul of piety, 
 the foundation and fupport of every virtue and good 
 work, the beft guard and fecurity of all holy aiftcSlionSy 
 I {hall recommend humility to you, as highly proper to 
 be made the conflant fubje61: of your devotions, at this 
 third hour of the dayj earneflly defiring you to think no 
 day fafe, or likely to end well, in which you have not 
 thus early put yourfelf in this pofiure of humility, and 
 called upon God to carry you through the day in the 
 exercife of a meek and lowly fpirit. 
 
 This virtue is fo eflential to the right ftate of our 
 foul's, that there is no pretending to a reafonable or pious 
 life without it. We may as well think to fee without 
 eyes, or live without breath, as to live in the fpirit of 
 religion, without tlie fpirit of humility. 
 
 And although it is thus the foul and efTence of all re- 
 ligious duties, yet is it, generally fpeaking, the leait un- 
 derftood, the leaft regarded, the lead intended, the leaft 
 defired, and fought after, of all other virtues, amongft 
 all forts of Chriitians. 
 
 No people have more occafion to be afraid of the ap- 
 proaches of pride, than thofe who have made fome ad- 
 vances in a pious life. For pride can grow as well upon 
 our virtues as our vices, and fteals upon us on all occa- 
 fions. 
 
 Every good thought that v.'e have, every gcod a6lIon 
 that we do, lays us open to pride, and expofes us to the 
 aflaults of vanity and felf-fatisfa£l:icn. 
 
 It is not only the beauty of our perfons, the gifts of 
 fortune, or our natural talents, and the diitin6tions of 
 life ; but even our devotions and alms, our faftings and 
 humiliations, expofe us to frelh and ftrong temptations 
 of this evil fpirit. 
 
 And It is for this reafon, that I fo earneftly advife 
 every devout perfon to begin every day in this exercife 
 of humility, that he may go on in fafety under the pro- 
 tection of his good guide, and not fall a facrifice to his 
 own progrefs in thofe virtues, which are to fave mankind 
 from deltru(Stion. 
 
 Humility does not confift in having a v/crfe opinion 
 of curfelves than we deiezYe^ or in abafmg ourfelves 
 
 lower 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 215 
 
 lower than we really are. But as all virtue Is founded 
 in truth, fo humility is founded in a true and juft fenfe 
 of our weaknefs, mifery, and fni. 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 Hate 
 we are entirely without any power; we are indeed active 
 beings, but can only act by a power, that is every mo- 
 ment lent us from God. 
 
 We have no more power of our own to move a hand, 
 or flir a foot, than to move the fun, or flop the clouds. 
 
 When Vv^e fpeak a word, we feel no more power in 
 ourfelves to do it, than we feel ourfelves able to raife the 
 dead. For we act no more within our own power, or 
 by our own Itrength, when we fpeak a word, or make a 
 found, than the apoltles a6ted wdthin their own power, 
 or by their own itrength, when a word from their mouth 
 cad out devils, and cured difeafes. 
 
 As it was folely the power of God that enabled them 
 to fpeak to fuch purpofes, fo it is folely the power of God 
 that enaWes us to fpeak at ail. 
 
 We indeed find that we can fpeak, as we find that we 
 are alive ; but the actual exercife of ipeaking is no more 
 in our own power, than the actual enjoyment of life. 
 
 This is the dependent helplefs poverty of our ftate ; 
 which is a great reafon for humility. For fince we nei- 
 ther 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 afcribe glory to ourfelves for thefe things, as 
 our ov/n ornaments, has the guilt both of ftealing and 
 lying. It has the guilt of ftealing as it gives to ourfelves 
 thofe things which only belong to God. It has the 
 guilt of lying as it is the denying the truth of our itate, 
 and pretending to be fomething that we are not. 
 
 Secondly, Another argument for humilityjis founded 
 in the mifery of our condition. 
 
 Now the mifery of our condition appears in this, that 
 we ufe t!ie borrowed powers of our nature, to the tor- 
 ment and vexation of ourfelves, and our fellow-crea- 
 tures. 
 
 God Almighty has entrufted us with tlie ufe of reafon, 
 und we ufe it to the diforder and corruption of our na- 
 ture^ 
 
■"216 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ture. We reafon ourfelves into all kinds of folly and 
 mifery, and make our lives the fport of foolifli and extra- 
 vagant pafTions : Seeking after imaginary happinefs in 
 all kinds of fhapes, creating to ourfelves a tlioufand 
 wants, amuGng our hearts with falfe hopes and fears, 
 ufmg the world v/orfe than irrational animals, envying, 
 vexing and tormenting one another with reftlefs palhons, 
 and unreafonabie contentions. 
 
 Let any man but look b ck upon his own life, and 
 fee v/hat ufe he has made of his reafon^ how little he has 
 confulted it, and how lefs he has followed it. What 
 foolifli paflions, what vain thoughts, what needlcfs la- 
 bours, what extr<»vagant projett*?, have taken up the 
 greateib part of his life- How fccliflT he has been in 
 his words and converfation ; how feldom he has done 
 well with judgment, and how often he has been kept 
 from doing ill by accident *, how feldom he has been a- 
 bie to pleafe himfeif, and how often he has difpleafed 
 others ; how often he has changed his counfels, hated 
 what he loved, and loved Vvhat he hated •, hcv/ often he 
 has been enraged ana tranfported at trifles, pleafed and 
 difpleafed with the very fame things, and conflantly 
 changing from one vanity to another. Let a man but 
 take this view of his own life, and he v/ill fee reafon e- 
 nough to confefs, that pride was not made for man. 
 
 Let him but confider. that if the world knew all that 
 of him, Vvdiich he knows of himfeif ; if they faw what 
 vanity and paiTions govern his infide, and what fecret 
 tempers fully and corrupt his beft actions, he would have 
 no more pretence to be honoured and admired for his 
 goodnefs and wifdom, than a rotten and diflempered 
 body to be loved and admired for its beauty and comeli- 
 Xiefs. 
 
 This is fo true, and fo known to the hearts of almoft 
 all people, that nothing would appear 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 ail their 
 fecret follies, the errors of their judgments, the vanity 
 of their minds, the falfenefs of their pretences, the fre- 
 quency of their vain and diforderly paifionSj their uneafi- 
 
 nefs, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 217 
 
 nefs, hatreds, envies, and vexations, made known unto 
 the vt^orid. 
 
 And fliall pride be entertained in a heart thus confci- 
 ous of its own miierable behaviour ? 
 
 Shall a creature in fuch a condition, that he could not 
 fupport himfelf under the fhame of being known to the 
 world in his real ftate *, fhaii fuch a creature, becaufe his 
 fliame is only known to God, to holy angels, and his 
 own confcience *, fliall he, in the fight of God and holy 
 angels, dare to be vain and proud of himfelf ? 
 
 rhirdly. If to this we add the fhame and guilt of iin, 
 "we fliall hnd a iliil greater reafon for humility. 
 
 No creature that had lived in innocence, would have 
 thereby got any pretence for felf-honour and elteem; be- 
 caufe as a creature, all that it is, or has, or does, is from 
 God, and therefore the hon-our of all that belongs to it^ 
 is only due to God. 
 
 But if a creature that is a finner, and under the dif- 
 pleafure of the great governor of ail the world, and de- 
 ferving nothing from him, but pains and punirnments 
 for the fnamefui abufe of his powers •, if fuch a creature 
 pretends to felf-glory for any thing that he is, or does, 
 he can only be laid to glory in his Ihame. 
 
 Now how monftrous and ihameful the nature of fin is, 
 is fafficientiy apparent from that great atonement that is 
 neceii'ary to cleanle 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 our nature upon him, our na- 
 ture had been for ever feparated from God, and incapa- 
 ble of ever appearing before him. 
 
 And is there any room for pride or felf-glory, whiid 
 we are partakers of fuch a nature as this ? 
 
 Have our fins rendered us fo abominable and odious 
 to him that made us, that he could not fo 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 this itate pretend to high 
 thoughts of ourieives ? Shall we prefume to take delight 
 in our own worth, who are not v/crthy fo much as to 
 afk pardon for our fins, without the mediation and in- 
 terceffion of the Son of God ? 
 
 Thus 
 
218 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Thus deep is the foundation of humility laid, in thefe 
 deplorable circumftances of our condition ; which {heM--, 
 that it is as great an offence againft truth, and the rea- 
 fon of things, for a man in this (late of things to lay 
 claim to any degrees of glory, as to pretend to the ho- 
 nour of creating himfelf. If man will boafl of any thing 
 as his own, he mufl boafl of his mifery and fni*, for there 
 is nothing elfe but this, that is his own property. 
 
 Turn your eyes to\vards heaven, and fancy that you 
 faw^ what is doing there •, that you faw cherubims and 
 feraphims, and all the glorious inhabitants of that place, 
 •all united in one work ; not feeking glory from one ano- 
 ther, not labouring their cv/n advancement, not contem- 
 plating their own perfections, not fmging their own 
 praifes, not valuing themfelves, and defpifmg others, but 
 all employed in one and the fame work ; all happy in 
 one and the fame joy j ^^Ji^^^g doivn their croivfis before 
 the throne of God, giving glory ^ and honour ^ and poicer to 
 him alone J Rev. iv. 10, IL 
 
 Then turn your eyes to the fallen world, and confider 
 how unreafonable and odious it muft be, for fuch poor 
 worms, fuch miferable fmners, to take delight in their 
 own fancied glories, whilft the higheft and mofl glorious 
 fons of heaven, feek for no other greatnefs and honour, 
 but that of afcribing all honour and greatnefs, and glory 
 to God atone ? 
 
 Pride is only the diforder of the fallen world, it has 
 no place amongft other beings*, it can only fubfifl where 
 ignorance and fenfuality, lies and falfhood, lufts and im- 
 purity reign. 
 
 Let a man, when he is mofl delighted with his own 
 figure, look upon a crucifix, and contemplate our bleffed 
 Lord flretched out, and nailed upon a crofs ; and then 
 let him confider, how -abfurd it mull be, for a heart full 
 of pride and vanity, to pray to God, through the fuffer* 
 ings of fuch a meek and crucified Saviour ? 
 
 Thefe are the refieclions that you are often to medi- 
 tate upon, that you may thereby be difpofed to walk be- 
 fore God and man in fuch a fpirit of humility, as becomes 
 the weak, miferable, fmful flate of all that are defcended 
 from fallen Adam. 
 
 "When you have ty fuch general reflexions as thefe, 
 
 con- 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE* 219 
 
 convinced your mind of the reafonablenefs of humility, 
 you mud not content yourfelf with this, as if you was 
 therefore humble, becaufe your mind acknowledges the 
 reafonablenefs of humility, and declares againfl pride* 
 But you mud immediately enter yourfelf into the prac- 
 tice 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 mufl confider, that you have not 
 only this virtue to learn, but that you mull be content 
 to proceed as a learner in it all your time, endeavour- 
 ing after greater degrees of it, and praclifnig every day 
 a6ls of humility, as you every day practice a6ls of de- 
 votion. 
 
 You would not imagine yourfelf to be devout, becaufe 
 in your judgment you approved of prayers, and often 
 declared your mdnd in favour of devotion. Yet how 
 many people imagine themfelves humble enough for no 
 other reafon, but becaufe tliey often commend humility, 
 and make vehement declarations againft pride ? 
 
 Csecus is a rich man, of good birth, and very fine parts. 
 He is fond of drefs, curious in the fmallefl matters that 
 can add any ornament to his perfon. He is haughty 
 snd imperious to all his inferiors, is very full of every 
 thing that he fays or does, and never imagines it poflible 
 for fuch a judgment as his to be miftaken. He can bear 
 no contradi6tion, and difcovers the weaknefs of your 
 underitanding, as foon as ever you oppofe him. He 
 changes every thing in his houfe, his habit, and his e- 
 quipage, as often as any thing more elegant comes in his 
 way, C^ecus would have been very religious, but that he 
 always thought he wasfo. 
 
 There is nothing fo odious to Caecus as a proud man ; 
 and the misfortune is, that in this he is fo very quick- 
 fighted, that he difcovers in almoil every body, fome 
 ftrokes of vanity. 
 
 On the other hand, he is exceeding fond of humble 
 and modeft perfons. HumiHty, fays he, is fo amiable a 
 quality, that it forces our eiteem wherever we meet 
 with it. There is no poffibility of defpifnig the meanelt 
 perfon that has it, or of efteeming the greatefl man that 
 wants it. 
 
 Cxcus no more fufpeds himfelf to be proud, than he 
 
 fufpeds 
 
220 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 fafpe(Sts his want of fenfe. And the reafon of it is, be- 
 caufe he always finds himfelf in love with humility, and 
 fo enraged at pride. 
 
 It is very true, Ciecus, you fpeak fmcerely when ycu 
 fay you love humility, and abhor pride. You are no 
 hypocrite, you fpeak the true fentiments of your mind ; 
 but then take this along with you, Caecus, that you only 
 love humility, and hate pride, in other people. You 
 never once in your life thought of any other humility, 
 or of any other pride, than that which you have feeri in 
 other people. 
 
 The cafe of Csecus is a common cafe ; many people 
 live in all the indances or pride, and indulge every va- 
 nity that can enter into their minds, and yet never fu- 
 fpe6t themfelves to be governed by pride and vanity, 
 becaufe they know how much they diflike proud people, 
 and how mightily they are pleafed with humility and 
 modefiy, wherever they £nd them. 
 
 All their fpeeches in favour of humility, and all their 
 failings againil pride, are looked upon as fo many true 
 .exercifes, and effects of their own humble fpirit. 
 
 Whereas in truth, thefe are fo far from being proper 
 a6ls, or proofs of humility, that they are great argu- 
 ments of the want of it. 
 
 'For the fuller of pride any one is himfelf, the more 
 impatient will he be at the fmaileft inftances of it in other 
 people. And the lefs humility any one has in his owa 
 mind, the more will he demand, and be delighted with 
 it in other people. 
 
 You mufl therefore a£l: by a quite contrary meafure, 
 and reckon yourfelf only fo far humble, as you impofe 
 every inftance of humility upon yourfelf, and never call 
 for it in other people. So far an enemy to pride, as you 
 never fpare it in yourfelf, nor even cenfure it in other 
 perfons. 
 
 Now in order to do this, you need only confider, 
 that pride and humility fignify nothing to you, but fo 
 far as they are your own ; that they do you neither good 
 nor 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 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 221 
 
 own thoughts, words and a6lions governed by it. And 
 the hating of pride does you no good, is no perfection 
 in you, but fo far as you hate to xharbour any degree of 
 it in your own heart. 
 
 Now in order to begin, and fet out well in the prac- 
 tice of humility, you muft take it for granted, that you 
 sre proud, that you have all your life been more or Icfs 
 infecled v^ath this unreafonable temper. 
 
 You fhould believe alfo, that it is your greateft weak- 
 nefs, that your heart is moil fubjecl to it, that it is fo con- 
 ftantly ftealing upon you, that you have reafon to watch 
 and fufpedl its approaches in all your actions. 
 
 For this is what mod people, efpecially new begin- 
 ners in a pious life, may with great truth think of thein- 
 felves. 
 
 For there is no one vice that is more deeply rooted in 
 our nature, or that receives fuch conftant nourllhment 
 from aimoft every thing that we think or do. There be- 
 ing hardly any thing in the world that we want or ufe, 
 or any aftion or duty of life, but pride finds fom.e means 
 or other to take hold of it. So that at what time foever 
 we begin to offer ourfelves to God, we can hardly be 
 furer of any thing, than that we have a great deal of 
 pride to repent of. 
 
 If therefore you find it difagreeable to your mind to 
 entertain this opinion of yourfelf, and that you cannot 
 ,put yourfelf amongil thole that want to be cured of 
 pride, you may be as fure, as if an angel 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, fhews himfelf to 
 be an entire llranger to that holy palhon ; fo he that 
 thinks he has humility enough, fliews that he is not fo 
 much as a beginner in the pra£lice of true humility. 
 
 K CHAP, 
 
222 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 CHAP. XVIT. 
 
 Shewing hew difficult the praclice of htimHky is made ^ hy 
 the general fpirit and temper of the ivorld. Hoiu ChriJ- 
 tianity requireth us to live contrary to the world, 
 
 EVERY perfon, when he firfl applies himfelf to the 
 exercife of this virtue of humility, muil, as I faid 
 before, confider himfeif as a learner, that is, to learn 
 fomething that is contrary to former tempers, and ha- 
 bits of mind, and which can only be got by daily and 
 conftant praftice. 
 
 He has not only as much to do, as he that has fome 
 new art or fcience to learn ; but he has aifo a great deal 
 to unlearn : He is to forget, and lay afide his own fpirit, 
 which has been a long while fixing and forming itfelf; 
 he muft forget, and depart from abundance of paflions 
 and opinions, which the falhion, and vogue, and fpirit of 
 the world has made natural to him. 
 
 He mufl lay ahde his own fpirit; becaufe, as we are 
 born in fm, fo in pride, which is as natural to us as felf 
 love, and continually fprings from it. / s this is one 
 reafon why Chriftianity is lo often reprefented as anew 
 birth, and a new fpirit. 
 
 He muft lay afide the opinions and paflions which he 
 has received from the world, becaufe the vogue and 
 fafliion of the world, by which we have been carried 
 away, as in a torrent, before we could pafs right judg- 
 ments of the value of things, is in many refpe£ls contrary 
 to humility •, fo that Vv'e mufl unlearn what the fpirit of 
 the world has taught us, before we can be governed by 
 the fpirit of humility. 
 
 The devil is called 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 fpi- 
 rit, the father of all lies and falfliood, to feparate us from 
 God, and prevent our return to happinefs. * 
 
 Now 
 
Devout and holy life. 223 
 
 Now according to the fpirit and vogue of this world, 
 whofe corrupt air we have all breathed, there are many 
 things that pafs for great, and honourable, and mod de- 
 iirable, which yet are fo far from being ioy that the true 
 greatnefs and honour of our nature conufts in the not 
 defiring them. 
 
 To abound in wealth, to have fine houfes and rich 
 clothes, to be attended with fplendour and equipage, to 
 be beautiful in our perfons, to have titles of dignity, to 
 be above our fellow creatures, to command the bov/s and 
 obeifance cf other people, to be looked on v/ith admira- 
 tion^ to overcome our enemies with power, to fubdue 
 all that oppofe us, to fet ourfelves in as much fplendour 
 as we can, to live highly and magnificently, to eat and 
 drink, and delight ourfelves in the moil coltly manner, 
 thefe are the great, the honourable, the defireable things, 
 to which the fpirit of the v/orld turns the eyes of all peo- 
 ple. And many a man is afraid of (landing ftill, and not 
 engaging in the purfuit of thefe things, left the fame 
 world fnould take him for a fool. 
 
 The hiftory of the gofpel, is chiefly the hiftory of 
 Chrift's conqueft over this fpirit of the workL And the 
 number of true Chriflians, is only the number of thofe 
 who. following the Spirit of Chrift, have lived contrary 
 to this fpirit of the world. 
 
 If any tnafi hat Jo not the Spirit of Chrijl^he is none of his. 
 Again, JVhofoever is born of Cody overcometh the luorld. 
 Set your affcEiions on things above ^ and not on things on the 
 earth; for ye are dead^ and your life is hid luith Chrifl in 
 Ged, This is the language of the New Teftament. 
 This is the mark of Chriflianity; you are to be dead, 
 that is, dead to the fpirit and temper of the world, and 
 live a new life in the fpirit of Jefus Chriil. 
 
 But notwithftanding the clearnefs and plainnefs of 
 thefe do6lrines which thus renounce the world, yet 
 great part of chriflians live and die ilaves to the cufloms 
 and temper of the world. 
 
 How many people fwell with pride and vanity, for 
 £uch things as they would not know how to value at all, 
 but that they are admired in the world? 
 
 Would a man take ten years more drudgery in bufi- 
 
 nefs to add two horics more, to his coach, but that he 
 
 K 2 - knows. 
 
224? A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 knows, that the world moft of all admires a coach and 
 fix ? How fearful are many people of having their 
 houfes poorly furnifhed, or themfelves meanly cloathed, 
 for this only reafon, leil the world fhould make no ac- 
 count of them, and place them amongft low and mean 
 people ? 
 
 How often would a man have yielded to the haughtl- 
 nefs and ill nature of others, and lliew a fubmifTive tem- 
 per, but that he dares not pafs for fuch a poor fpirited 
 man in the opinion of the world. 
 
 Many a man would often drop a refentment, and for- 
 give an affront, but that he is afraid, if he fnould, the 
 world would not forgive him. 
 
 How many v/ould praclife Chriflian temperance and 
 fobriety in its utmoft perfection, were it not for the 
 cenfure which the world paffes upon fuch a life.'' 
 
 Others have frequent intentions of living up to 
 the rules of Chriflian perfe6lion, which they are fright- 
 ened from, by confidering what the world would fay of 
 them. 
 
 Thus do the impreffions which we have received 
 from living in the world enllave our mJnds, that we dare 
 jiot attempt to be eminent in the fight of God, and ho- 
 ly angels, for fear of being little in the eyes of the 
 world. 
 
 From this quarter arifes the great difficulty of humi- 
 lity, 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 all 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 cor- 
 rupt fpiiit of the world. 
 
 You can make no (land againft the affaults of pride, 
 the meek affettions of humility can have no place in your 
 foul, till you flop the power of the world over you, and 
 refolve againft a blind obedience to its laws. 
 
 And when you are once advanced thus far, as to be 
 able to ftand ftill in the torrent of worldly fafhions and 
 opinions, and examine the worth and value of things 
 which are moft admired and valued in the world, you 
 have gone a great way in. the gaining of your freedom, 
 
 and 
 
DEVOUT AND KOLY LIFE. 225 
 
 snd 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 bhnd 'obedience, and we need only open our 
 eyes, to get quit of its power. Afk who you will, learn- 
 ed or unlearned, every one feems to know and confefs, 
 jhat the general temper and fpirit of the world, is no- 
 hing eKe but humour, folly and extravagance. 
 
 Who will not own, that the wifdom of philofophy, 
 the piety of religion, was ahvays confined to a imall 
 number ? And is not tb.is exprelsly owning and con- 
 fefling, that the common fpirit and temper ot the world, 
 is neither according to the wifdom of philofophy, nor 
 the piety of religion. 
 
 The world therefore feems enough condemned even 
 by itfelf, to make it very eafy for a thinking man to be 
 of the fame judgmen:. 
 
 And therefore I hope you will not think it a liard 
 faying, that in order to be humble, you mull v/ithdrar/ 
 your obedience from that vulgar fpirit which gives laws 
 to fops and coquets, and form your judgments accord- 
 ing to the v/ifdom of philofophy, and the piety of reli- 
 gion. Who v/ould be afraid of making fuch a change 
 as this ? 
 
 Again, To leiTon your fear and regard to the opinion 
 of the world, think how foon the world will diiregard 
 you, and have no more thought or concern about you, 
 than about the pooreit animal that died in a ditch. 
 
 Your friends, if they can, may bury you with fome 
 diflinftion, and fet up a monument to let pofterity fee 
 that your duit lies under fuch a Hone ; and when that is 
 done, all is done. Your place is filled up by another, 
 the world is jult in the fam^e Hate 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 rich, the great, and the learned per- 
 fonSj that have made great figures, and been high in the 
 efteem of the Vv^orld; many of them died in your time, 
 and yet they are funk and loll, and gone, and as mucU 
 difregarded by the world, as if they had been only fo 
 many bubbles of water. 
 
 Think again, how many poor fouls fee heaven loft, and 
 K 3 he 
 
226 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 lie now expecting a miferable eternity, for their fervice 
 
 and homage to a world, that thinks itfelf every whit as 
 well without them, and is juft as merry as it was when 
 they were in it ? 
 
 Is it therefore worth your while to lofe the fmalleft 
 degree of virtue, for the fake of pleafing fo bad a mailer, 
 and fo falfe a friend as the world is? 
 
 Is it worth your while to bow the knee to fuch an idol 
 as this, that fo foon will have neither eyes, nor ears, nor 
 a heart to regard you ; inftead of ferving that great, and 
 hoh^, and mighty God, that will make all his fervants 
 partakers of his ovv^n eternity ? 
 
 Will you let the fear of a falfe 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 biefs you 
 to all eternity ? 
 
 Laitly, you mull confider what behaviour the pro- 
 feilioii of Chriilianity requireth of you, with regard to 
 the world : 
 
 Now this is plainly delivered in thefe words ; Who 
 gave hlinfelffor cur fins y that he might deliver us from this 
 prefent evil ivorld, Gal. i. 4. Chriilianity therefore im- 
 plieth a deliverance from this v/orld ; and he that pro- 
 fefTeth to live contrary to every thing, and every temper, 
 that is peculiar to this evil world. 
 
 St John declarcdi this oppofition to the world in this 
 manner. They are of the luorld: therefore /peak they of the 
 ivorld, and the ivorid heareth them. We are of God, 
 1 John iv. 5. This is the defcription of the followers of 
 Chriil; and it is proof enough that no people are to be 
 reckoned chriftians in reality, who in their hearts and 
 tempers belong to this world. We knowj faith the fame 
 Apoftle, That we are of God ^ and the ivhole ivorld lieth in 
 nvichednefsi c. v. v. J 9. Chrillians therefore can no 
 farther know that they are of God, than fo far as they 
 know that they are not of the worldj that is, that they 
 do not live according to the ways and fpirit of the world. 
 For all the ways, and maxims, and politics, and tempers 
 of the world, lie in wickednefs. And he is only of God, 
 or born of God in Chriit Jefus, who has overcome this 
 worldj that is, who has chofe to live by faith, and go- 
 vern 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 227. 
 
 vern his actions by the principles of a wifdom revealed 
 from God by Ciiriit Jefus. 
 
 St Paul takes it for a certainty fo well known to chri- 
 ftians, that they are no longer to be confidered as living ■ 
 in this world, that he thus argues from it, as from an 
 undeniable principle, concerning the aboiiihing the rites 
 of the Jewifli law : iVheref re if ye he dead nvith Chriji 
 I from the rudiments of the luorld, luhy, as though living in 
 the luoridf are ye fa' j eel to ordinances P Col. ii. 20. Here 
 could be no argument in this, but in the apoftles ta- 
 king it for undeniable, that Chriftians knew, that their 
 profeihon required them toiiave done with ail the tem- 
 pers and pailions of this world,- to live as citizens of 
 the new Jerufalem, and to have their converfation in 
 heaven. 
 
 Our bleiTed Lord himfelf has fully determined this 
 point in thefe words : 27ji:y are not of this nvorld, as I am. 
 not of this ^Morld, This is the ftate of Chriltianity with 
 regard to this world. If you are not thus out of, and con- 
 trary to the world, you want the diftinguiiliing mark of 
 chriftianity, you do not belong to Chnit, but by being 
 out of the world as he was out of it. 
 
 AVe may deceive ourfelves, if we pleafe, with vain 
 and foftning commands upon thefe words, but they are 
 and will be underilood in their hril fimplicity andplain- 
 nefs, by every one that reads them in the fame fpiric 
 that our bleiTed Lord fpoke them. And to underfland 
 them in any lower, lefs ngnificant meaning, is to let car- 
 nal wifdom explain away that doctrine, by which itfelf 
 was to be deltroyed. 
 
 The Chriitians great conquell over the world, is 
 all contained in the myftery of Chviil upon the crofs. 
 It was there, and from thence, that he taught ail chri- 
 itians how they were to come out of, and conquer the 
 world, and what they were to do in order to be his 
 difcipljes. And all the doctrines, facraments, and infti- 
 tutions of the gofpel, are only fo many explications of 
 the meaning, and applications of the benefit of this great 
 myltery. 
 
 And the ftate of Chriftianity implieth nothing elfe 
 
 but an entire, abfolute conformity to that fpirit which 
 
 K 3 . Chriit 
 
228 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Chrift {hewed in the myfterlous facrifice of himfelf up- 
 on the crofs. 
 
 Every man therefore, is only fo far a Chriftian as he 
 partakes of this fpirit of Chrift. It was this that made 
 St Paul fo pafTionately exprefs himfelf, God forbid that I 
 Jhould glory, fave in the crofs of our Lord J ejus Chrift : but 
 why does he glory? Is it bccaufe Chrift had furfered in 
 his ftead, and hadexcufed him from fufFering ? No, by 
 no means. But it v/as becanfe his Chriftian profeflion 
 liad called him to the honour of fufFering with Chrift, 
 and of dying to the world under reproach and contempt, 
 as he had done upon tlie crofs. For he immediately 
 adds, by ivhom the ivorld is crucified unto vie, nnd 1 unto 
 the nrcrld, Gal. vi. 14. This you fee was the reafon 
 of his glorying in the crofs of Chrift, becaufe he had 
 called him to a like ft^te of death and crucifixion to the 
 world. 
 
 Thus was the crofs of Chrift, in St Paul's days, the 
 glory of chriitians j 7!ot as it fignihed their not being 
 aihamed to own a Matter that was crucified, but as it 
 fignified their glorying in a religion, wliich was nothing 
 elfe but a docirine of the crofs, that called them to the 
 fame fufFering fpirit, the fame facrifice of themfelves, the 
 lame renunciation of the world, the fame humility and 
 meeknefs, the fame patient bearing of injuries, reproach- 
 es, and contempts, and the fame dying to all the great- 
 nefs, honours and happinefs of the world, which Chrift 
 ihewed upon the crofs. 
 
 To have a true idea of Chriftianity, we muft not 
 confider our blefTed Lord as fufFering in our ftcad, but 
 as our reprefentetive, acting in our name, and with fuch 
 particular merit, as to make our joining with him ac- 
 ceptable unto God. 
 
 He fuffered, and was a facrifice, to malce our fuffer- 
 ings and facrifice of ourfelves fit to be received by God. 
 And we are to fufFer, to be crucified, to die, and rife 
 with Chrift j or elfe his crucifixion ; death and refur- 
 re£tion vv^lli profit us nothing. 
 
 The necellity of this conformity to all that Chrift 
 did, and fufFered upon our account, is very plain from 
 die whole tenor of Scripture. 
 
 Firftj As to his fulferings, this is the only condition 
 
 cf 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 229 
 
 of our being faved by them, if " we fuiFer with him, we 
 fhall alfo reign with him." 
 
 Secondly, As to his crucifixion. «• Knowing this, that 
 our old man is crucified with him," Sec. Rom. vi. 6. 
 Here you fee Chrifl is not crucifi.ed in our ftead •, but 
 unlefs our old man be really crucified with him, the crofs 
 of Chrifl will profit us nothing* 
 
 Thirdly, As to the death of Chrifl:, the condition is 
 this; "If we be dead with Chrlft, we believe that we 
 fliall alfo live with him." If therefore Chrifl be dead a- 
 lone, if we are not dead with him, we are as fure, from 
 this fcripture, that we fhall not live with him. 
 
 Laflly, As to the refuire£lion of Chrifl:, the fcrip- 
 ture fheweth us how we are to partake of the benefit 
 of it: " If ye be rifen with Chrift, feek thofe things which 
 are above, where Chrift fitteth on the right hand of 
 God," Col iii. 1. 
 
 Thus you fee how plainly the Scripture fets forth our 
 blefTed Lord, as our reprefentative, aoling and fufFering 
 in our name, binding and obliging us to conform to all 
 that he did and fufi^ered for us. 
 
 It was for this reafon, that the holy Jefus faid of his 
 difclples, and in them of all true believers, " They are 
 not of this world, as I am not of this world." Becaufe 
 all true believers conforming to the fufFerings, cruci- 
 fixion, death, and refurre(Slion of Chrifl, live no longer 
 after the fpirit and temper of this world, but their life 
 is hid with Chrift in God. 
 
 This is the flate of feparation from the world, to which 
 all orders of Chriftians are called. They muft fofar re- 
 nounce all worldly tempers, be fo far governed by the 
 things of another life, as to fhew, that they are truly 
 and really crucified, dead, and rifen with Chrift. And 
 it is as necefiary for all Chriftians to conform to this 
 great change of fpirit, to be thus in Chrifl new creatureSj 
 as it was necefTary that Chrift fhculd fuffer, die, and rife 
 again for our falvatlon. 
 
 How high the Chriftian life is placed above the ways^ 
 of this world, is wonderfully defcribed by St Paul iti 
 thefe words: " Wherefore henceforth know we no mart 
 after the flefh; yea though we have known Chrift c.fter 
 ihe ilefh j yet henceforth we know liim uo more. There- 
 K 5 foxe: 
 
230 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 fore if any man be in Chrift, he is a new creature: old 
 things are paffed away; behold all things are become 
 new." 2 Cor. v. 16. 
 
 He that feels the force and fpirit of thefe words, can 
 hardly bear any human interpretation of them. Hence- 
 forth, fays lie ; that is, fmce the death and refurreftion 
 of Chrifl, the ftate of Chridianity is become fo glorious 
 a ilate, that we do not even confider Chrift himfelf as in 
 the fielh upon earth, but as a God of glory in heaven j 
 we know and confider ourfelves not as men in the 
 fiefh, but as fellow-members of a new fociety, that are 
 to have all our hearts, our tempers, and converfation in 
 heaven. 
 
 Thus it is that chriftianity has placed us out of, and 
 above the world •, and we fall from our calling, as foon 
 as we fall into the tempers of the world. 
 
 Now as it was the fpirit of the world that nailed our 
 blelTed Lord to the crofs ; fo every man t^at has the 
 fpirit of Chrift, that oppofes the world, as he did, 
 will certainly be crucified by the world fome way or 
 other. 
 
 For Chriftianity ftill lives in the fame world that 
 Chrift did; and thefe two will be utter enemies, till the 
 kingdom of darknefs is entirely at an end. 
 
 Had you lived withour Saviour as his true difciple,you. 
 had then been hated as he was ; and if you nov/ live in 
 his fpirit, the v/orld will be the fame enemy to you now, 
 that it was to him then. 
 
 " If ye were of the world," faith our blefled Lord, 
 «* the world would love its own; but becaufe ye are not 
 of the world, but I have chofen you out of the world, 
 therefore the world hateth you," John xv. 19. 
 
 We are apt to lofe the true meaning of thefe words, 
 by confidering them only as an hiftorical defcription of 
 fometbing that was the ftate of our Saviour and his dif- 
 ciples at that time. But this is reading the Scripture as 
 a dead letter : for they as exa6ily defcribe the liate of 
 true Chriftians at this, and all other tim.es to the end of 
 the world. 
 
 For as true Chriftianity is nothing elfe but the fpirit 
 of Chrift, fo whether that fpirit appear in the perfon of 
 Chrift himfelf, or his apoftles, or followers in any age, 
 
 it 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 231 
 
 it is the fame thing ; whoever hath his fpirit 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 unchangeable, as the con- 
 trariety betwixt light and darknefs. 
 
 When the holy Jefus faith, If the ivorldhate you^ (he 
 does not add by way of confolation, 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, Tou hiow that it hated me before tt hated you : 
 iigiiifying, that it was he, that is, his fpirit, that by rea- 
 fon of its contrariety to the world, was then, and always 
 would be hated by it. 
 
 You will perhaps fay, that the world is now become 
 Chriftian, at lead that part of it where we live ; and 
 therefore the world is not to be confidered in that ftate 
 of oppofition to Chriftianity, as when it was heathen. 
 
 It is granted, the world now profefleth Chriftianity. 
 but will any o-ne fay, that this Chriftian world is of the 
 fpirit of Chrilt ? Are its general tempers the tempers of 
 Chriit ? Are the paffions of fenfuality, felf-love, pride, 
 covetoufnefs, ambition, and vain glory, lefs contrary to 
 the fpirit of the gofpel, now they are amongit Chriitians, 
 than when they were amongit heathens? Or will you fay, 
 that the tempers and pallions of the heathen world are 
 lolt and gone ? 
 
 Confider, Secondly, What you are to mean by the 
 world. Now this is fully defcribed to our hands by St 
 John. All that is in the luorld, the lujl of the feJJj^ the 
 lujl of the eyes, and the pride of life, &c. 1 John iii. 16. 
 This is an exact and full defcription of the world. Now 
 will you fay, that this world is become Chriftian ? But 
 if all this ftill fubfifts, then the fame world is now in be- 
 ing, and the fame enemy to Chriftianity, that was in St. 
 John's days. 
 
 It was this world that St John condemned, as being 
 not of the Father ; whether therefore it outwardly pro- 
 feffeth, or openly perfecuteth Chriftianity, it is (till ia 
 the fame ftate of contrariety to the true fpirit ^i![idL holi- 
 nefs of the gofpel. 
 
 And indeed the world by profefTing Chriftianity, is (o ' 
 K 6 far 
 
£32 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 far from being a lefs dangerous enemy than it was be- 
 fore, that it has by its favours deftroyed more Chrillians 
 than ever it did by the mofb violent perfecution. 
 
 We mufi therefore be fo far from conGdering the 
 
 world as in a (late of lefs enmity and oppofition to Chrif- 
 
 tianity, than it was in the firft times of the gofpel, that 
 
 we mull: guard again ft it as a greater and more dangerous 
 
 .enemy now, than it was in thofe times. 
 
 It is a greater enemy, becaufe it has greater power 
 ever Chriltians by its favours, riches, honours, rewards, 
 and protections, than it had by the hre and fury of its 
 perfecutions. 
 
 It is a more dangerous enemy, by having loft its ap- 
 pearance of enmity. Its outward prcfelFion of Chrifti- 
 anity makes it no longer confidered as an enemy, and 
 therefore the generality of people are eafily perfuaded 
 to re%u themfclves up to be governed and directed by 
 it. 
 
 How many confciences are kept as quiet, upon no 
 other foundation, but becaufe they fin under the autho- 
 rity of the Chrillian world ? 
 
 How many direfticns of the gofpel lie by unregarded^ 
 and how unconcernedly do particular perfons read them; 
 for no other reafon, but becaufe they feem unregarded 
 by the Chrifi.ian world ? 
 
 How many compliances do people make to the Chrif- 
 tian world, without any hefitation, or remorfe ; which, 
 if tiiey had been required of them only by heathens, 
 would have been refuted, as contrary to the holinefs of 
 Chriiiianity ? 
 
 Who could be content with feeing how contrary his 
 life is to the gofpel, but becaufe he fees that he lives as 
 the Chriilian world doth ? 
 
 Who that reads the gofpel, v/ould want to be perfua- 
 ded of the neceihty of great feif-denial, humility, and 
 poverty of fpirit, but that the authority of the world has 
 baniihed this doctrine of the crofs ? 
 
 There is nothing therefore, that a good chriftian ought 
 to be more fufpicious of, or more conilantly guard a- 
 gainlt, than the authority of the Chriftian world. 
 
 And all the palTages of Scripture, which reprefent the 
 i^'orld as contrary to Chriiiianity, which rcjjuire our fe- 
 
 paratign 
 
DEVOUT AVD HOLY MFF. 23S 
 
 paratlon from it, as from a mammon of unrighteoufnefs, 
 a monlter of iniquity, are all to be taken in the fame 
 flri£l fenfe, in relation to the prefent world. 
 
 For the change that the world has undergone, has on- 
 ly altered its methods, but not leflened its power of de- 
 Itroying religion. 
 
 Chriitians had nothing to fear from the heathen world, 
 but the lofs of their lives; but the world become a friend, 
 makes it difficult for them to fave their religion. 
 
 Whilil pride, fenfuality, covetoufnefs, and ambition, 
 had only the authority of the heathen world, Chriftians 
 were thereby made more intent upon the contrary vir- 
 tues. But when pride, fenfuality, covetoufnefs, and am- 
 bition, have the authority of the Chriilian world, then 
 private Chrillians are in the utmoft danger, not only of 
 being fhamed out of the praftice, bu of iofmg the very 
 notion of the piety of the gofpel. 
 
 There is therefore hardly any pofTibility of faving 
 yourfelf from the prefent world, but by confidering it as 
 the fame wicked enemy to all true holinefs, as it is re- 
 prefented in the fcriptures *, and by afluring yourfelf, 
 that it is as dangerous to conform to its tempers and paf- 
 fions, now it is Chriftian, as when it was heathen. 
 
 For only afk yourfelf, Is the piety, the humility, the 
 fobriety of the Chriilian world, the piety, the humility 
 and fobriety of the Chriftian fpirit ? 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 unfit for the 
 mercy of God, than by being greedy and ambitious of 
 honour ? Yet how can a man renounce this temper, 
 without renouncing the fpirit and temper of the world^ 
 in which you now live ? 
 
 How can a man be made more incapable of the fpirit 
 of Clirift, than by a wrong value for money ; and yet 
 how can he be more wrong in his value of it, than by 
 following the authority of the Chriftian world ? 
 
 Nay, in every order and ftation of life, whether of 
 learning orbufniefs, either in Church or ftate, you can- 
 not zt\ up to the fpirit of religion without renouncing 
 the moft general temper and behaviour of thofe, who are 
 c£ the fame order and bufmefs as yourfelf. 
 
 ^And 
 
234 A SSPvIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 And though human prudence feems to talk mighty 
 •wifely about the neceiTity'of avoiding particularities, yet 
 he that dares not to be fo weak as to be particular, will 
 be often obliged to avoid the mofb fubftantial duties of 
 Chriilian piety. 
 
 Thefe reile6lions will, I hope, help you to break 
 through thofe dirhculties, and refill thofe temptations, 
 which the authority and fafhion of the world hath raifed 
 againit the pracSlice of Chriftian humility. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Shewing how the education luhich men generally receive 
 in thtir youth, makes the doBrines of humility difficult 
 to he prailifed. The fpirit of a better education^ repre- 
 ' fented in the charaEter of Paternus. 
 
 ANOTHER difficulty in the praaice of humility^, 
 arifes from our education. We are all of us, for 
 the mod part, corruptly educated, and then committed to 
 take our courfe in a corrupt world ; fo that it is no won- 
 der, if examples of great piety are fo feldom feen. 
 
 Great part of the world are undone, by being born 
 and bred in families that have no religion j where they 
 are made vicious and irregular, by being like thofe with 
 whom they fuTt lived. 
 
 But this is not the thing I now m.ean; the education 
 that I here intend, is fuch as children generally receive 
 from virtuous and fober parents, and learned tutors and 
 governors. 
 
 Had we continued perfeil, as God created the firll 
 man, perhaps the perfe6fion of our nature had been a 
 fufficient feif-infi:ru6lion for every one. But as ficknefs 
 and difeafes have created the neceffity of medicines and 
 phyficians, fo the change and diforder of our rational" 
 nature has introduced the neceffity of education and tu- 
 tors. 
 
 And as the only end of the phyfician is, to reftore na- 
 ture to its own ftate ; fo the only end of education is, 
 to reftore our rational nature to its proper ftate. Edu- 
 cation 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 235 
 
 cation therefore is to be confidered as re-afon borrowed 
 at fecond hand, which is, as far as it can, to fupply the 
 Ipfs of original perfedlion. And as phyfic may jultly 
 be called the art of reftoring health, fo education Ihould 
 be confidered in no other light, than as the art of reco- 
 vering to man the ufe of his reafon. 
 
 Now as the in{lru6lion of every a,rt or fcience is foun- 
 ded upon the difcoveries, the wifdom, experience, and 
 maxims of the feveral great men that have laboured in 
 it ; fo that human wifdom, or right ufe of our reafon, 
 which young people fhould be called to by their educa- 
 tion, is nothing elfe but the bell experience and finelt 
 reafonings of men, that have devoted themfelves to the 
 ftudy of wifdom, and the improvement of human na- 
 ture 
 
 All therefore that great faints and dying rrten, when 
 the fulled of light and conviction, and after the higheft 
 improvement of their reafon, all that they have faid of 
 the neceffity of piety, of the excellency of virtue, of their 
 duty to God, of the emptinefs of riches, of the vanity of 
 the world ; all the fentences, judgments, reafonings, and 
 maxims of the wifeft of philolophers, when in their 
 higheft ftate of wifdom, fhould conftitute the common 
 lelTons of inftruclion for youthful minds. 
 
 This is the only way to make the young and ignorant 
 part of the world the better for the wifdom and know- 
 ledge of the wife and ancient. 
 
 An education which is not wholly intent upon this, is 
 as-much befide the point, as an art of phyfic, that had 
 httle or no regard to the refloration of health. 
 
 The youths that attended upon Pythagoras, Socrates, 
 Plato, and Epicletus, were thus educated. Their every 
 day lelTons and initru6lions were fo many ledlures upon 
 the nature of man, his true end, and the right ufe of his 
 faculties ; upon the immortality of the foul, its relation 
 to God, the beauty of virtue, and its agreeablenefs to 
 the divine nature •, upon the dignity of reafon, the ne- 
 cefiity of temperance, fortitude and generofity, and the 
 {liame and folly of indulging our paffions. 
 
 Now as Chriftianity has, as it v,-ere, new created the 
 moral and religious world, and fet every thing that is 
 reafonable, wife, holy and defireable, in its true point 
 
 of 
 
236 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 of light ; fo one would expeQ, that the education of 
 youth (hould be as much bettered and amended by 
 Chriftianity, as the faith and doctrines of religion are a- 
 mended by it. 
 
 As it has introduced fuch a new flate of things, and 
 fo fully informed us of the nature of man, the ends of 
 his creation, the (late of his condition ; as it has lixed 
 all our goods and evils, taught us the means of purifying 
 our fouis, pleafmg God, and becoming eternally happy j 
 one might naturally fuppofe, that every Chriftian coun- 
 try abounded with fchools for the teaching not onl^ a 
 few quefllons and anfwers of a Catechifm, but for the 
 forming, training and praftifing youths in fach an out- 
 v/ard courfe of life, as the higheft precepts, the ilriflefl 
 rules, and the fublimeit do6trines of Chriftianity re- 
 quire. 
 
 An education under Pythagoras, or Socrates, had no 
 other endy but to teach youth to think, judge, aft, and 
 follow fuch rules of lif6, as Pythagoras and Socrates 
 ufed. 
 
 And is it not as reafonable to fuppofe, that a Chrif- 
 tian education (hould have no other end, but to teach 
 youth, how to think, and judge, and aft, and live ac- 
 cording to the ftriftefb lav/s of Chriftianity ? 
 
 At leaft one would fuppofe, that in all Chriftian 
 fchools, the teaching youth to begin their lives in the 
 fpiritof Chriftianity, in fuch feverity of behaviour, fuch 
 abftinence, fobrlety, humility nnd devotion, as Chriftia™ 
 nity requires, (hould not only be more, but an hundred 
 times more regarded, than any, or all things elfe. 
 
 For our education fnould imitate our guardian angels, 
 fuggeft nothing to our minds but what is wife and holy; 
 help us to difcover and fubdue every vain pafTion of our 
 hearts, and every falfe judgment of our minds. 
 
 And it is as fober and reafonable to expeft and require 
 all this benefit of a Chriftian education, as to require 
 that phyfic (hould ftrengthen all that is right in our na- 
 ture, and remove that wliich is (ickly and difeafed. 
 But alas, our modern education is not of this kind. 
 The fir(t temper that we try to awaken in children,, 
 is pride ; as dangerous a paftion as that of luft. We 
 ftir them up to vain thoughts of thenifeiyes, and do every 
 
 thing 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 237 
 
 thing we can, to pufFup their minds with a fenfe of their 
 own abilities. 
 
 Whatever way of life we intend them for, we apply 
 to the fire and vanity of their minds, and exhort them 
 to every thing from corrupt motives : We ftir them up 
 to aftion from principles of ftrife and ambition, from 
 glory, envy, and a deiire of diftin£lion, that they may 
 excel others, and {h'lne in the eyes of the world. 
 
 We repeat and inculcate thefe motives upon them, 
 till they think it a part of their duty to be proud, envi- 
 ous, and vain-glorious of their own accomplifnments. 
 
 And when we have taught them to fcorn to be out- 
 done by any, to bear no rival, to third after every in- 
 (lance of applaufe, to be content with nothing but the 
 liigheil diiiin6£ions j then we begin to take comfort in 
 them, and promife the world fome mighty things from 
 youths of fuch a glorious fpirit. 
 
 If children are intended for holy orders, v/e fet before 
 them fome eminent orator, whofe fine preaching has 
 made him the admiration of the age, and carried him 
 through all the dignicies and preferments of the church. 
 
 We encourage them to have thefe honours in their 
 eye, and to expert: the reward of their fludies from 
 them. 
 
 If the youth is intended for a trade, we bid him look 
 at ail the rich men of the fame trade, and confider hov/ 
 many now are carried about in their fbatcly coaches, who 
 began in the fame low degree as he now does. We 
 awaken his ambition, and endeavour to give his mind a 
 right turn, by often telling him how very rich fuch and 
 fuch a tradefman died. 
 
 If he is to be' a lawyer, then we fet great counfellors, 
 lords, judges, chancellors, before his eyes. We tell him 
 what great fees, and great applaufe attend fine pleading. 
 We exhort him to take fire at thefe things, to raife a 
 fpirit of emulation in himfelf, and to be content v/ith 
 nothing lefs than the highelt honours of the long robe. 
 
 That this is the nature of our beil education, is too 
 plain to need any proof ; and I believe there are fev/ 
 parents, but would be glad to fee thefe inItru£l:ions daily 
 given to their children. 
 
 And after all this, we complain of the ciFeifts of pridej 
 
 w 
 
238 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 we wonder to fee grown men a£ted ajid governed by 
 ambition, envy, fcorn, and a defire of glory 5 not con- 
 fidering that they were all the time of their youth, cal- 
 led upon to all their action and induilry upon the fame 
 principles. 
 
 You teach a child to fcorn to be out-done, to thirft 
 for diftin6tion and applaufe ; and is it any wonder that 
 he continues to act all his life in the fame manner ? 
 
 Now if a youth is ever to be fo far a Chriltian 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 doctrine of humility 
 found to a youth, that has been fpurred up to all his in- 
 duilry by ambition, envy, emulation, and a defire of glo- 
 ry and (Jiilin£l:ion ? And if he is not to a6t by thefe 
 principles when he is a man, why do we call him to adt 
 by them in his youth ? 
 
 Envy is acknowledged by all people, to be the moft 
 ungenerous, bafe and wicked paffion, that can enter into 
 the heart of man. 
 
 And is' this a temper to be inftilled, ncuriilied and 
 eflablifned in the minds of young people ? 
 
 I know it is faid, that it is not envy, but emulation, 
 that is intended to be awakened m the minds of young 
 men. 
 
 But this is vainly faid. For when children are taught 
 to bear no rival, and to fcorn to be out-done by any of 
 their age, they are plainly and directly taught to be en- 
 vious. For it is impoiTible for any one to have this fcorn 
 of being out-done, and this contention with rivals, with- 
 out burning with envy againil all thofe that feein to ex- 
 cel him, or get any diitin^lion 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 confefledly bad, and it be 
 only emulation that is endeavoured 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 abominate the one as a great crime, whilfl they 
 give the other admiflion into their minds. 
 
 But 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LlFE. 239 
 
 But if this were to be attempted, the finenefs of the 
 dlflincllon betwixt envy and emulation, vi^ould ihew that 
 it was eafier to divide them into words, than to leparate 
 them inatSlion. 
 
 For emulation, when it is defined in its beft manner, 
 is nothing elfe but a refinement upon envy, or rather 
 the mod plaufible part of that black and venomous paf- 
 fion. 
 
 And though it is eafy to feparate them in the notion, 
 yet the moil acute phiiofopher, that underftands the art 
 of dillinguifliing ever fo well, if he gives himfelf up to 
 emulation, will certainly find himfelf deep in envy. 
 
 For envy is not an original temper, but the natural, 
 necefiary, and unavoidable efie6l of emulation, or a de- 
 fire of glory. 
 
 So that he who eflablifnes the one in ths miiids of 
 people, neceiiarily fixes the other there. And there is 
 no other pofiible v»^ay of deifroying envy, but by deltroy- 
 ing emulation, or a defirc of glory. For the one always 
 rifes and falls in proportion to the other. 
 
 I know it is faid in defence of this method of edu- 
 cation, that ambition, and a defire of glory, are ne- 
 cefiary to excite young people to induilry •, and that if 
 we were to preis upon them the doctrines of humility, 
 we fiiould deject their minds, and fink them into dul- 
 nefs and idlenefs. 
 
 But thefe people who fay this, do not confider, that 
 this reafon, if it has any iirength, is full as fi:rong againft 
 prefiing the doctrines of humility upon grown men, left 
 we ihould deject the minds, and fink them into dulnefs 
 and idlenefs. 
 
 For who does not fee that middle-aged men want as 
 much the afiiftance of pride, ambition, and vain-glory, to 
 fpur them up to a6lion and induih-y, as children do ? 
 And it is very certain, that the precepts of humility are 
 more contrary to the defigns of fucii m.en, and more 
 grievous to their minds, when they are preffed upon 
 them, than they are to the minds of yoimg perfons. 
 
 This reafon therefore that is given, why children 
 fhould not be trained up in the principles of true humi- 
 lity, is as good a reafon why the fame humility fliould 
 never be required of grown men, 
 
 . Thirdly, 
 
240 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Thirdly, Let thofe people, who think that children 
 would be fpoiied, if they were not thus educated, con- 
 lider this. 
 
 Could they think, that if any children had been edu- 
 cated by our blefled Lord, or his holy ApoiUes, that 
 their minds would have been funk into dulnefs and idle- 
 nefs. 
 
 Or could they think, that fuch children would not 
 have been trained up in the profoundeft principles of a 
 ilri£l and true humility ? Can they fay that our bleffed 
 Lord, who was the meekefl and humbleft man that ever 
 was on earth, was hindered by his humility from being 
 the greateit example of worthy and glorious actions, 
 that ever were done by man ? 
 
 Can they h.y that his ApoiUes, who lived in the hum- 
 ble fpirit of their Mafter, did therefore ceafe to be la- 
 borious and active inflruments of doing good to all tlie 
 .world? 
 
 A few fuch refiedlions as thefe, are fufficient to ex- 
 pofe all the poor pretences for an education in pride and 
 ambition. 
 
 Paternus lived about two hundred years ago ; he had 
 but one fon, whom he educated himfelf in his own 
 houfe. As they were fitting together in the garden, 
 when the child was ten years old, Paternus thus began 
 to him. 
 
 Tiie little time that you have been in the world, my 
 child, you have fpent wholly with me; and my love and 
 tendcrnels to you, has made you look upon me as your 
 only friend and benefactor, and the caufe of all the com- 
 fort and pleafure that you enjoy : your heart, I know, 
 would be ready to break with grief, if you thought this 
 was the lail day that I fhould live w^ith you. 
 
 But, my child, though you now think yourfelf migh= 
 ty happy, becaufe you have hold of my hand, you are 
 now in the hands, and under the care of a niuch great- 
 er Father and Friend than I am, whofe love to you is 
 far greater than mine, and from whom you receive fuch 
 blelHngs as no mortal can give. 
 
 That God whom you have feen me daily v/orfhip ; 
 v/hom 1 daily call upon to blefs both you and me, and 
 all mankind y whofe wondrous a6ts are recorded in thofe 
 
 Scriptures 
 
CEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 241 
 
 Scriptures which you conftantly read. That God who 
 created the heavens and the earth -, who brought a flood 
 upon the whole world ; who faved Noah in the ark ; 
 who was the God of Abraham, Ifaac, and Jacob, whom 
 Job blefled and praiied in the greateit afflictions ; who 
 delivered the Ifraehtes out of the hands of the Egypti- 
 ans; who was the prote6lor of righteous Jofeph, Ivloies, 
 Joi'hua and holy Daniel, who fent fo many prophets in- 
 to the world, who fent his Son Jefus Chriil to redeem 
 mankind :- This God, who has done all thefe great 
 things, who has created fo many millions of men, who 
 lived and died before you was born, with whom the 
 fpirits of good men that are departed this life, now live, 
 whom infinite numbers of Angels now worlhip in hea- 
 ven ; this great God who is the Creator of worlds, of 
 angels, and men, is your loving Father and Friend, your 
 good Creator and Nourifher, from whom, and not from 
 me, you received your being ten years ago, at the time 
 that I planted that little tender £lm which you there 
 fee. 
 
 I myfelf am not half the age of this fhady Oak, under 
 which we fit ; many of our fathers have fat under its 
 boughs, we have all of us called it ours in our turn, 
 though it Hands, and drops its mailers, as it drops its 
 leaves. 
 
 You fee, my fon, this wide and large Firmament over 
 our heads, where the Sun and Moon, and all the Stars 
 appear in their turns. If you was to be carried up to 
 any of thefe bodies at this vaft diftance from us, you 
 would ftill difcover others as much above, as the Stars 
 that you fee here are above the earth. Were you to go 
 up or down, Eaft or Weft, North or South, you would 
 find the fame height without any top, and the fame depth 
 without any bottom. 
 
 And yet, my child, fo great is God, that all thefe bo- 
 dies added together are but as a grain of fand in his light. 
 And yet you are as much the care of this great God and 
 Father of all worlds, and all fpirits, as if he had no fon 
 but you, or there were no creature for him to love and 
 protect but you alone. He numbers the hairs of your 
 head,^watches over you ileeping and waking, and has 
 
 pre- 
 
242 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 preferved you from a thoufand dangers, which neither 
 you nor I know any thing of. 
 
 How poor my power is, and how little I am able to 
 do for you, you have often feen. Your late ficknefs has 
 ilievvai you how little I could do for you in that Hate ; 
 and the frequent pains of your head are plain proofs, 
 that I have no power to remove tliem. 
 
 I can bring you food and medicines, but have no pow- 
 er to turn them into your relief and nourifhment ; it is 
 God alone that can do this for you. 
 
 Therefore, my child, fear and worfhip, and love God. 
 Your eyes indeed cannot yet fee him, but every thing 
 you fee, are fo many marks of his power and prefence, 
 and he is nearer to you, than any thing that you can 
 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 have received through my hands, and reverence 
 me only as the bearer and minifterof God's good things 
 unto you. And he that bleiled my father before I was 
 born, will blefs you when I am dead. 
 
 Your youth and little mind is only yet acquainted 
 with my family, and therefore you think there is no hap- 
 pinefs out of it. 
 
 But my child, you belong to a greater Family than 
 mine, you are a younger member of the Family of this 
 Almighty Father of all nations, who has created infinite 
 orders of angels and numberlefs generations of men, to 
 he fellow-members of one and the fame fociety in hea- 
 ven. 
 
 You do well to reverence and obey my authority, be- 
 caufe God has given me power over you, to bring you 
 up in his fear, and to do for you, as the holy fathers re- 
 corded in Scripture did for their children, who are now 
 in reii and peace with God. 
 
 I ihall in a fliort time die, and leave you to God, and 
 yourfelf ; and if God forgiveth my iins, I fhall go to his 
 Son Jefus Chrifl, and live amongll Patriarchs and Pro- 
 phets, Saints and Martyrs, where I fhall pray for you, 
 and hope for your fafe arrival at the fame place. 
 
 Therefore, my child, meditate on thefe great things, 
 
 and 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLT LIFE. 243 
 
 and your foul will foon grow great and noble by fo me- 
 ditating upon them. 
 
 Let your thoughts often leave thcfe gardens, tliefe 
 fields and farms, to contemplate upon God and Heaven, 
 to ccnfider upon Angels, and the fpirits of good men liv- 
 ing in light and glory. 
 
 As you have been ufed to look to m.e in all your ac- 
 tions, and have been afraid to do any thing, unlefs you 
 firfl knew my will ; fo let it now be a rule of your life, 
 to look up to God in all your actions, to do every thing 
 in his fear, and to abflain from every thing that is not 
 according to his will. 
 
 Bear him. always in your mind, teach your thoughts 
 to reverence him in every place, for their is no place 
 where he is not. 
 
 God keepeth a book of life, wherein all the actions 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 according as your aftions are there 
 found, you will eitlier be received to the happinefs of 
 thofe holy men who have died before you, or be turned 
 away amongfl wicked fpirits, that are never to fee God 
 any more. 
 
 Never forget this book, my fon, for it is written, it 
 mull be opened, you mult fee it, and you mud be tried 
 by it. Strive therefore to fill it with your good deeds, 
 that the hand-writing of God may not appear againit 
 you. 
 
 God, my child, is all love, and wifdom, and goodnefs; 
 and every thing that he has made, and every acSlion that 
 he does, is the efFe6l of them all. Therefore you can- 
 not pleafe God, but fo far as you drive to walk in love, 
 wifdom and goodnefs. As all wifdom, love and good- 
 nefs proceeds from God, fo nothing but love, wifdom 
 and goodnefs can lead to God. 
 
 When you love that which God loves, you a£t with 
 him, you join yourfelf to him; and when you love 
 what he diflikes, then you oppofe him, and feperate 
 yourfelf 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, worfhip and adore God, think 
 
 of 
 
^4^4? A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 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 man?- 
 kind, with fuch tendernefs and affection, as you love 
 yourfelf. Think how God loves all mankind, how mer- 
 ciful he is to them, how tender he is of them, how 
 carefully he preferves them, aiid then flrive to love the 
 world as God loves it. 
 
 God would have all 'men to be happy, therefore do 
 3''0U will, and defire the fame. All men are great in^ 
 iiances of divine love, therefore let all men be inilances 
 of your love. 
 
 But above all, my fon, mark this, never do any thing 
 through ilrife, or envy, or emulation, or vain-glory. 
 Never do any thing in order to excel other people, but 
 in order to pleafe God, and becaufe it is his will, that 
 you fhould do every tiling hi the bell manner that you 
 can. 
 
 For if it is once a pl-eafure to you to excel other peo- 
 ple, it will by degrees be a pleafure to you, to fee other 
 people not fo good as yourfelf. 
 
 Baniih therefore every thought of felf-pride, and felf- 
 di{tin6lion, and accuftom yourfelf to rejoice in all the 
 excellencies and perfections of your fellow-creatures, 
 and be as glad to fee any of their good aclions, as your 
 own. 
 
 For as God is as well pleafed with their well doings, 
 as with yours ; fo 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 yourfelf. 
 
 Let this therefore be your only motive and fpur to all 
 good actions, honeft induftry, and bufinefs, to do every 
 thing in as perfect and excellent a manner as you can, 
 for this only reafon, becaufe it is pleafing to God, who 
 defires your perfection, and writes all your actions in a 
 book. When I am dead my fon, you will be mafter of 
 all my eflate, which will be a great deal more than the 
 necefiities of one family require. Therefore, as you are 
 to be charitable to the fouls of men, and wiih them the 
 fame happinefs witli you in heaven, fo be charitable to 
 
 their 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 24?5 
 
 theif bodies, and endeavour to make them as happy a3 
 you upon earth. 
 
 As God has created all things for the common good 
 of all men, fo let that part of them, which is fallen to 
 your fliare, be employed, as God would have all em- 
 ployed, for the common good of all. 
 
 Do good, my fon, firft of all to thofe that mod de- 
 ferve it, but remember to do good to all. The greatelt 
 finners receive daily inflances of God's goodnefs towards 
 tliem, he nouriihes 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 fee that he wants it. 
 
 I am teaching you Latin and Greek, not that you. 
 {hould defire to be a great Critic, a fine Poet, or an elo- 
 quent Orator; I v/ould not have your heart feel any of 
 thofe defires, for the delire of thefe accompliflmients is 
 a vanity of the mind, and the mailers of them are gene- 
 rally vain men. For the delire of any thing that is not 
 a real good, leffens the application of the mind after that 
 which is fo. 
 
 But I teach you thefe languages, that at proper times 
 you may look into the hiilory of pait ages, and learn the 
 methods of God's providence over the v/orld. That 
 reading the writings of the ancient Sages, you may 
 fee how wifdom and virtue have been the praife of great 
 men of all ages, and fortify your mind by their wife 
 fayings. 
 
 Let truth and plainnefs therefore be the only orna- 
 ment of your language, and ftudy nothing but how to 
 think of all things as they deferve, to chufe every thing 
 that is belt, to live according toreafon and order, and to 
 acl; in every part of your lite, in conformity to the will 
 of God. 
 
 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 a fcholar, no finer a gentlem.an, than thefe 
 tempers will make you. As true religion is nothing 
 elfe but furiple nature governed by right reafon, fo it 
 loves and requires great plainnefs and fimplicity of life. 
 Therefore avoid all fuperiluous fliews of hnery and equi- 
 page, .und let your houfe be plainly furniilied with mo- 
 
 L derate 
 
246 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 derate conveniencies. Do not confider what your eftate 
 can afFord, but what right reafon requires. 
 
 Let your drefs be fober, clean, andmodeft, not to fet 
 out the beauty of your perfon, but to declare the fobrie- 
 ty of your mind, that your outward garb may refemble 
 the invv-ard plainnefs and fimplicity of your heart. 
 For it is highly reafonable, that you fhould be one. man, 
 all of a piece, and appear outwardly fuch as you are in- 
 wardly. 
 
 As to your meat and drink, in them obferve the high- 
 ed rules of Chriftian temperance and fobriety ; confider 
 your body only as the fervant and mihifter of your foul; 
 and only fo nourifh it, as it may beft perform an humble 
 and obedient fervice to it. 
 
 But, my fon, obferve this as a m.ofl principle thing, 
 which I fhall remember you of as long as I live with 
 you. 
 
 Hate and defpife all human glory, for it is nothing 
 elfe but human folly. It is the greateft fnare and 
 the greatelt betrayer that you can poflibly admit into 
 your heart. 
 
 Love humility in all its inftances, pra61:ife it in all its 
 parts, for it is the nobleft Hate of the foul of man ; it 
 will fet your heart and afFe<Sl:ions right towards God, and 
 fill you with every temper that is tender and afFed?tionace 
 towards men. 
 
 Let every day therefore be a day of humility, con- 
 defcend to all the weaknefs and infirmities of your fel- 
 low-creatures, cover their frailties, love their excellen- 
 cies, encourage their virtues, relieve their wants, rejoice 
 in their profperities, compaflionate their diftrefs, receive 
 th.eir friendfhip, overlook their unkindnefs, forgive their 
 malice, be a fervant of fervants, and condefcend to do 
 the lowed ofiices to tlie lowelt of m.ankind. 
 
 Afpire after nothing but your own purity and perfec- 
 tion, and have no ambition but to do every thing in {o 
 reafonable and religious a manner, that you may be glad 
 that God is every where prefent, and fees and obferves all 
 your aliens. The greatelt trial of humility, is an hum- 
 ble behaviour towards your equals in age, eftate, and 
 condition of life. Therefore be careful of all the mo- 
 tions of your heart towards thefe people : Let all your 
 
 be- 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 247 
 
 behaviour towards them be governed by unfeigned 
 love. Have no defire to put any of your equals below 
 you, nor any anger at thofe that would put themfelves 
 above you. If they are proud, they are ill of a very 
 bad diltemper, let them therefore have your tender pity, 
 and perhaps your meeknefs 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 yourfelf. 
 
 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 yourfelf. 
 
 The time of practifmg thefe precepts, my child, will 
 foon be over with you, the world will foon flip through 
 your hands, or rather you wdll foon flip through it ; it 
 feems but the other day fince I received thefe fame in- 
 {Irudlions from my dear father, that I am now leaving 
 with you. And the God that gave me ears to hear, and 
 a heart to receive what my father laid unto me, vv^ill, I 
 hope, give you grace to love and follow the fame inllruc- 
 tions. 
 
 Thus did Paternus educate his fon. 
 
 Can any one now think that fuch an education as this 
 would weaken and dej eel the minds of young people, 
 and deprive the world of any worthy and reafonable la- 
 bours ? 
 
 It is fo far from that, that there is nothing fo likely to 
 ennoble and exalt the mind, and prepare it for the moft 
 heroical exercife of all virtues. 
 
 For who will fay, that a love of God, a delire of plea- 
 fing him, a love of our neighbour, a love of truth, cf 
 reafon and virtue, a contemplation of eternity and the 
 rev^ards of piety, are not Itrongcr motives to great and 
 good a6lions, than a little uncertain popular praife ? 
 
 On the other liand, there is nothing in reality that 
 more weakens the mind, and reduces it to meannefs and 
 flavery, nothing that makes it lefs mailer of its own ac- 
 tions, or lefs capable of following reafon, than a love of 
 praife and honour. 
 
 For as praife and honour are often given to things, and 
 perfons, where they are not due j as that is generally 
 moft praifed and honoured, that moft gratifies the hu- 
 
 L 2 mours. 
 
5?4S A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 huryours, fafliions, and vicious tempers of the world ; 
 fo he that a6ls upon the defire of praife and applaufe, 
 mud part with every other principle ; he rauft fay black 
 is white, put bitter for fweet, and fweet for bitter, 
 and do the nieanell, bafell things, in order to be ap- 
 plauded. 
 
 For in a corrupt world, as this is, worthy actions are 
 only to be fupportedby their own worth, v/here, inftead 
 of being praifed and honoured, they are moft often re- 
 proached and perfecuted. 
 
 So that to educate children upon a motive of emula- 
 tion, or a defire of glory, in a world where glory itfelf is 
 talfe, and moft commonly given wrong, is lo dellroy the 
 natural integrity and fortitude of their minds, and give 
 them a biafs which will oftner carry them to bafe and 
 xnean, than great and worthy a£lions. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 ^heii'Vig how the method of educating daughters, males it 
 difficult for them to enter into the Jpirit of Chrfian hu- 
 mility. How miferahly they are injured and ahtifed by 
 fuch an education. The fpirit of a better education re- 
 prefefited in the charaBer of Eufebia. 
 
 THAT turn of mind which is taught and encourag- 
 ed in the education of daughters, makes it exceed- 
 ing difficult for them to enter into fuch a fenfe and 
 pradlke of humility, as the fpirit of Chriftianity re- 
 quireth. 
 
 The right education of this fex is of the utmoil impor- 
 tance to human life. There is nothing that is more de- 
 firable for the common good of all the world. For tho* 
 women do not carry on the trade and bufmefs of the 
 world, yet as they are mothers, and miflreiies of families, 
 tliat have for fome time the care of the education of their 
 children of both fcrts, they are entrulled with that which 
 is of the greateft confequence to human life. For this 
 reafon, good or bad, women are likely to do as much 
 
 good 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 24^9 
 
 good or harm in the world, as good or bad men In tlie 
 greatelt bufmefs of life. 
 
 For as the health, and ftrength, or weaknefs, of our 
 bodies, is very much owing to their methods of treat- 
 ing us when we were young ; fo the foundnefs or folly 
 of our minds are not lefs owing to thofe hrR tempers and 
 ways of thinking, which we eagerly received from the 
 love, tendernefs, authority, and conilant converfation of 
 our mothers. 
 
 As we call our firft language our mother-tongue, fa 
 we may as juftly call our nril tempers our mother-tem- 
 pers ; and perhaps it may be found more cafy to forget 
 the language, than to part entirely with thofe tempers 
 which we learnt in the nurfery. 
 
 It is therefore much to be lamented, that this fex, on 
 %vhom fo much depends, who have the firit forming 
 both of our bodies ind cur minds, are not only educa- 
 ted in pride, but in the riiiieft and m.oit contemptible 
 part of it. 
 
 They are not indeed fufFered to difpute with us tlie 
 proud prizes of arts and fciences, of learning and elo- 
 quence, in v/hich I' have much fufpicion they would of- 
 ten prove our fuperiors ; but we turn them over to the 
 ftudy of beauty and drefs, and the v/hole world conCpires 
 to make them think of nothing clfe. Fathers and mo- 
 thers, friends and relations, feem to have no other wiili 
 towards the little girl, but that fiie may have a fair ik:in, 
 a fine fhape, dreis well, and d mce to admiration. 
 
 Now if our fondnefs for our perfons, a defire of beau- 
 ty, a love of drefs, be a part of pride (as fureiy it is a 
 moll contemptible part of it) the fird (lep towards a 
 woman's humility, feems to require a repentance of her 
 education. 
 
 For it mud be owned, that, generally fpeaking, good' 
 parents are never more fond of their daughters, than 
 when they fee them too fond of themfelves, and dreflfed 
 in fuch a manner, as is a great reproach to the gravity 
 and fobristy of the Chriilian life. 
 
 And what makes this matter fbill more to be lamentec',' 
 is this, That women are not only fpoiled by this educa- 
 tion, but \vc fpoil that part of the world, which would 
 
 L 3 o:her= 
 
250 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 otherwife furnifli mod inftances of an eminent and ex- 
 alted piety. 
 
 For I believe it cnay be affirmed, that for the moft 
 part there is a finer fenfe, a clearer mind, a readier ap- 
 prehenfion, and gentler difpofitions in that fex, than in 
 the other. 
 
 All which tempers, if they were truly improved by 
 proper itudies, and fober methods of education, would 
 in all probability carry them to greater heights of piety 
 than are to be found amongft the generality of men. 
 
 For this reafon I fpeak to this matter with fo much 
 opennefs and plainnefs, becaufe it is much to be lament- 
 ed, that perfons fo naturally qualified to be great exam- 
 pies of piety, fhould, by an erroneous education, be 
 made poor and gaudy ipe6lacles of the greateft vanity. 
 
 The Church has formerly had eminent faints in that 
 fex ; and it may reafcnably be thought, that it is pure- 
 ly ov/ing to their poor and vain education, that this ho- 
 nour of their fex is for the moil part confined to former 
 ages. 
 
 The corruption of the world indulges them in great 
 vanity, and mankind feem to confider them in no other 
 view, than as fo many painted idols, that are to allure 
 and gratify their pafFions ; fo that if many women are 
 vain, light, gewgaw creatures, they have this to excufe 
 themfelves, that they are not only fuch as their education 
 has made them, but fuch as the generality of the world 
 allows them to be. 
 
 But then they fliould confider, that the friend to their 
 vanity are no friends of theirs : they fliould confider, that 
 they are to live for themfelves, 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 neceiTity to af- 
 pire after the higheft accompliihments of a Chriftian 
 and folid virtue, as the gravelt and wifeft amongft Chrif- 
 tian Philofophers. 
 
 They fliould confider that they are abufed and injured, 
 and betrayed from their only perfection, whenever they 
 are taught, that any thing is an ornament in them, that 
 is not an ornament in the wifeft amongft mankind. 
 
 It is generally faid, that women are naturally of little 
 and vain minds ; but this I look upon to be as falfe and 
 
 un- 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 251 
 
 unreafonable, as to fay, that butchers are naturally cruel; 
 for as cheir cruelty is not owing to their nature, but to 
 their way of life, which has cnanged their nature j fo 
 whatever littlenefs and vanity is to be obferved in the 
 minds of women, it is like the cruelty of butchers, a 
 temper that is wrought into them by that life which they 
 are taught and accuitomed to lead. 
 
 At leail thus much muit be faid, that we 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 
 blameable is that education, which feems contrived to 
 ftrengthen and increafe this folly and weaknefs of their 
 minds ? For if it were a virtue in a woman to be proud 
 and vain in herfelf, v/e could hardly take better means 
 to raife this paihon in her, t.iat thofe that are now ufed 
 in their education. 
 
 Matilda is a fine woman, of good breeding, great {en(e 
 and much religion. She has three daugliters that are 
 educated by herfelf. She will not truit them with any 
 one elfe, or at any fchool, for fear they fliould learn any 
 thing ill. She Itays with the dancing mailer all the time 
 he is with them, becaufc (he will hear every thing that 
 is faid to them. She has heard them read the fcriptures 
 fo often, that they can repeat great part of it without 
 book : And there is fcarce a good book of devotion, but 
 you may find it in their clofets. 
 
 Had Alatiida lived in the firfl ages of Chriftianity, 
 when it v/as praclifed in the f ulnefs and plainnefs of its 
 do6lrines, Ihe had in all probability been one of its 
 greateil faints. But as (he was born in corrupt times, 
 where (he wants examples of Chriiiian perfection, and 
 hardly ever fav/ a piety higher than her own ; io {he 
 has many defecSls, and communicates them all to her 
 daughters. 
 
 Matilda never was meanly drelTed in her life; and no- 
 thing pieafes her in drefs, but that which is very rich 
 and beautiful to the eye. 
 
 Her daughters fee her great zeal for religion, but then 
 they fee an equal earneilnefs for all forts of finery. 
 They fee Ihe is not negligent of her devotion, but then 
 
 L 4? they 
 
252 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 they fee her more careful to preferve her complexion, 
 and to prevent thofe changes, which time and age threat- 
 en her with. 
 
 They are afraid to meet her, if they have mifled the 
 Church ; but then they are more afraid to fee her, if 
 they are not laced as itraight as they can poflibly be. 
 
 She often fliews them her own picture, which was ta- 
 ken when their father fell in love with her. She tells 
 them, how didracled he was with paiTioa at the firit 
 light of her, and that llie had never had fo fine a com- 
 plexion, but for the diligence of her good mother, who 
 took exceeding care of it. 
 
 Matilda is fo intent upon all the arts of improving 
 their drefs, that fhe has fome new fancy almoit every 
 day, and leaves no ornament untried, from the richell 
 jewel to the pooreft flower. She is fo nice and critical 
 in her judgment, fo fenfible of the fmalleft error, that 
 the maid is often forced to drefs and undrefs her daugh- 
 ters three or four times in a day, before flie can be fa- 
 tisfied with it. 
 
 As to the patching, Vae referves that to herfelf ; for, 
 (he fays, it they are not Truck on with judgment, they 
 are rather a prejudice, than an advantage to the face. 
 
 The children fee fo plainly the temper of their mother, 
 that they even afFedl to be more pleafed with drefs, and' 
 to be more fond of every little ornament, than they real- 
 ly are, merely to gain her favour. 
 
 They law their elded fifter once brought to her tear?, 
 and her perverfenefs feverely reprimanded, for prefum- 
 ing to fay, that Ihe thouglit it was better to cover the 
 neck, than to go fo far naked as the modern drefs re- 
 quires. 
 
 She (lints them in their meals, and is very fcrupulous 
 of what they eat and drink, and tells them hew m.any 
 fine ihapes Ihe has feen fpoiled in her time for want of 
 fuch care, if a pimple riles in their faces, Ihe is in a great 
 fright, and they themfelves are as afraid to fee her with 
 it, as ii they had committed fome great fin. 
 
 Whenever they begin to look fanguine and healthful, 
 {lie calls in the afliilance of the do£lor ; and if phyfic, or 
 jiTues, will keep the complexion from inclining to coarfe 
 or ruddy, fhe thinks them well employed. 
 
 By 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 253 
 
 By this means they are poor, pale, fickly, infirm crea- 
 tures, vapoured through want of fpirits, crying at the 
 fmalleft accidents, fwooning away at any thing that 
 frights them, and hardly able to bear the weight of their 
 bell cloaths. 
 
 The eldefl: daughter lived as long as fhe could under 
 this difcipline, and died in the twentieth year of her 
 age. 
 
 "When the body was opened, it appeared that her ribs 
 had grown into her liver, and that her other entrails 
 were much hurt by being crulhed together with her 
 flays, vi^hich her mother had ordered to be twitched fo 
 ilrait, that it often brought tears into her eyes, whilll 
 the maid was dreffing her. 
 
 Heryoungeft daughter is run away with a gamefter, 
 a man of great beauty, who in drelhng and dancing has 
 no fuperior. 
 
 Matilda fays, fhe lliould die with grief at this acci- 
 dent, but that her confcience tells her, fhe has contri- 
 buted nothing to it herfelf. She appeals to their clofets, 
 to their books of devotion, to teflify what care fhe has 
 taken to eftablifh her children in a life of folld piety and 
 devotion. 
 
 Now though I do not intend to fay, that no daughters 
 are brought up in a better way than this, for I hope there 
 are many that are ; yet this much I believe may be faid, 
 that the much greater part of them are not brought up- 
 fo well, or accailomed to fo much religion, as in the pre- 
 fent inftance. 
 
 Their minds are turned as much to the care of their 
 beauty and drefs, and the indulgence of vain defires, as 
 an the prefent cafe, without having fuch rules of devo- 
 tion to ftand againft it. So that if folid piety, humility, 
 and a fober fenfe of themfelves, is much wanted in that 
 fex, it is the plain and natural confequence of a vain and 
 corrupt education. 
 
 And if they are often too ready to receive the lirfi 
 fops, beaux, and fine dancers, for their hufbands ; it is 
 no wonder they fhould like that in men, which they have 
 been taught to admire in themfelves. 
 
 And if they are often feen to lofe that little religion 
 diey were taught in their youth, it is no more to be 
 
 L 5 won- 
 
254? ^ A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 wondered at, than to fee a little flower choaked and kill- 
 ed amongft rank weeds. 
 
 For perlbnal pride, and affectation, a delight in beauty 
 and fondnefs of finery, are tempers that muft either kill 
 all religion in the foul, or be themfelves killed by it j 
 they can no more thrive together, than health and fick- 
 nefs. 
 
 Some people that judge haflily, will perhaps here 
 fay, that I am exercifing too great a feverity againft the 
 fex. 
 
 But more reafonable perfons will eafdy obferve, that I 
 entirely fpare the fex, and only arraign their education y 
 that I not only fpare them, but plead their intereft, af- 
 fert their honour, fet forth their perfe£l:ions, commend 
 their natural tempers, and only condemn that educa- 
 tion, which is fo injurious to their intereils, fo debafes 
 their honour, and deprives them of the benefit of their 
 excellent natures and tempers. 
 
 Their education, I profefs, I cannot fpare ; but the 
 only reafon is, becaufe it is their greateft enemy, becaufe 
 it deprives the world of fo many blefhngs, and the Church 
 of fo many faints, as might reafonably be expected from 
 perfons, fo formed by their natural tempers to all good- 
 nefs and tendernefs, and fo fitted by the clearnefs and 
 brightnefs of their minds, to contemplate, love and ad* 
 mire every thing that is holy, virtuous and divine. 
 
 If it fliould here be faid, that I even charge too high 
 upon their education, and that they are not fo much hurt 
 by it, as I imagine. 
 
 - It may be anfwered, that though I do not pretend to 
 ilate the exa61: degree of mifchief that is done by it, yet 
 its plain and natural tendency to do harm, is fufhcient 
 to juftify the moffc abfolute condemnation of it. 
 
 But if any one would know, how generally women 
 are hurt by this education ; if he imagines there may be 
 no perfonal pride, or vain fondnefs of themfelves, in 
 thofe that are patched and drefled out with fo much glit- 
 ter of art and ornament. 
 
 Let him only make the following experiment where- 
 ever he pleafes. 
 
 Let him only acquaint any fuch woman with his opi- 
 nion of her J I do not mean that he fliould tell her to 
 
 her 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 255 
 
 her face, or do it in any rude public manner ; but let him 
 contrive the moft civil, fecret, friendly way that he can 
 think of only to let her know his opinion, that he thinks 
 (lie is neither handfome, nor dre/Tes well, nor becomes her 
 finery; and I dare fay, he will find there are but very 
 few fine drefled women, that will like him never the 
 worfe for his bare opinion, though known to none but 
 themfelves; and that he will not be long without feeing 
 the effects of her refentment. 
 
 But if fuch an experiment would (hew him that there 
 are but few fuch women that could bear \vith his friend- 
 fliip, after they knew he had fuch an opinion of them, 
 furely it is time to complain of, and accufe that educa- 
 tion, which fo generally corrupts their hearts* 
 
 For though it is hard to judge of the hearts of people, 
 yet where they declare their refentment, and uneafinefs at 
 any thing, there they pafs the judgment upon themfelves. 
 If a woman cannot forgive a man who thinks flie has no 
 beauty, nor any ornament from her drefs, there ilie infal- 
 libly difcovers the ilate of her own heart, and is condemn- 
 ed by her own, and not another's judgment. 
 
 For we never are angry at others, but when their opi- 
 nions of us are contrary to that which we have of ourfelveSc 
 
 A man that makes no pretence to fcholarlhip, is never 
 angry at thofe that do not take him to be a Scholar : So 
 if a women had no opinion of her own perfon and drefs, 
 fhe would never be angry at thofe, who are of the fame 
 opinion with herfelf. 
 
 So that the general bad efrecls of this education are 
 too much known, to admit of any reafonable doubt. 
 
 But how pofiible it is to bring up daughters in a more 
 excellent way, let the following character declare. 
 
 Eufebia is a pious widov/, well born, and well bred, and 
 has a good eltate for five daughters, whom fhe brings up 
 as one intruded by God, to fit five Virgins for the_ king- 
 dom of heaven. Her family has the fame 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 of prayer in the day, and chant Pfalms and 
 
 Other devotions^ and fpend the reft of their time in fuch 
 
 L 6 good 
 
2^G A SLRI0U3 CALL TO A 
 
 good wcrl-s, andiniiocent dlverfions, as render them fit 
 to return to their Pfalms and Prayers. 
 
 She loves them as her ipiritual children, and they re- 
 verence her as their fpiritual mother, with an afredion 
 far above that of the fondefl friends. 
 
 She has divided part of her eftate amongll them, that 
 every one may be charitable out of their own flock, and 
 each of them take it in their turns to provide for the 
 poor and fick of the pari Hi. 
 
 Eufebia brings them up to all kinds of labour that are 
 proper for women, as fewing, knitting, fpinning, and all 
 other parts of houfewifry; not for their amufement, but 
 that they may be ferviceabie to themfelves and others, and 
 be faved from thofe temptations which attend an idle life. 
 
 She tells them, {'n.Q had rather fee them reduced to the 
 necelTity of maintaining themfelves by their own work, 
 than to have riches to excufe themfelves 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 alTilt them more. 
 
 If Eufebia has lived as free from fin as it is poffible for 
 hunian nature, it is becaufe fhe is always watching and 
 guarding againft all inftances of pride. And if her vir- 
 tues are itronger and higher than other peoples, it is be- 
 caufe the) are all founded in a deep huniility. 
 
 My children, fays llie, when your father died, I was 
 much pitied by my friends, as having all the care of a fa- 
 mily, and the management of an eftate fallen upon me. 
 
 But my ov/n grief was founded upon another principle; 
 I was grieved to fee m.yfelf 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 follow it. 
 
 But as to worldly cares, which my friends thought fo 
 beavy upon me, they are moft of them of our own 
 making, and fall away as foon as we know ourfelves. 
 
 If a perfon in a dream is difturbed with ftrange appear- 
 ances, 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 ourfelves enters into 
 oiar minds, it makes as great a change in all our thoughts 
 
 a nd 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 257 
 
 and apprehenfions, as v/hen we awake from the wander- 
 ings of a dre?im. 
 
 We acknowledge a man to be mad or melancholy, who 
 fancies himfelf to be glals, and fo is afraid of Itirring ; or 
 taking himfelf to be wax, dare not let the Sun fiiine up- 
 on him. 
 
 But, my children, there are things in the world which 
 pafs for wifdom, politenefs, grandeur, happinefs, and fine 
 breeding, which lliew as great ignorance of ourfelves, and 
 might as juflly pafs for thorough madnefs, as when a man 
 fancies himfelf to be glafs, or ice. 
 
 A woman that dares not appear in the world without 
 fine cloaths, that thinks it a happinefs to have a face 
 finely coloured, to have a fkin delicately fair, that had 
 rather die than be reduced to poverty and be forced 
 to work for a poor maintenance, is as ignorant of her- 
 felf to the full, as he that fancies himfelf to be glafs. 
 
 For this reafon, all my difcourfe with you has been to 
 acquaint you with y ourfelves, and to accuftom you to 
 fuch books and devotions, as may beft inilrucr you in 
 this greatefl of all knowledge. 
 
 You would think it hard, not to know the family into 
 ■which you was born, what anceftors you were defcended 
 from, and what eftate was to come to you. But, my 
 children, you may know all this with exaclnefs, and yet 
 be as ignorant of yourfelves, as he that takes himfelf 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 
 fpirits. I do not mean that you have not bodies that 
 want meat and drink, and fleep, and cl'oathing, but that 
 all that deferves to be called you, is nothing elfe but 
 fpirit. A being fpiritual and rational in its nature, that 
 is as contrary to all flefhly or corporeal beings, as life 
 is contrary to death; that is made in the imiage of God, 
 to live for ever, never to ceafe any more, but to enjoy 
 life, and reafon, and knowlege, and happinefs in the 
 prefence of God, and the fociety of angels, and glorious 
 fpirits, to all eternity. 
 
 Every thing that you call yours, befides this fpirit, is 
 but like your cloathing ; fomething that is only to be 
 vfed for a v/hilc; and then to end, and die, and wear 
 
 away 
 
958 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 away, and to (ignify no more to you, than the clothing- 
 and bodies of other people. 
 
 But, my children, you are not only in this manner 
 fpirits, but you are fallen fpirits, that began your life in 
 a ftate of corruption and diforder, full of tempers and 
 pafiions, that blind and darken the reafon of your mind 
 and incline you to that M'hich is hurtful. 
 
 Your bodies are not only poor and peridiing like your 
 clothes, but they are like infected clothes, that lill you 
 Vvdth all difeafes and diftempers, which opprefs the foul, 
 with fickly appetites and vain cravings. 
 
 80 that all cf us are like two beings, that have, as it 
 were, two hearts within us ; with the one we fee, 
 and tafte, and admire reafon, purity and holinefs: with 
 the other we incline to pride, and vanity, and fenfual 
 delights. 
 
 This internal war we always feel within us more or 
 lefsj and if you v/ould know the one thing neceiTary to 
 all the world, it is this ; to preferve and perfedl all that 
 is rational, holy and divine in our nature, and to morti- 
 fy, remove and deflroy all that vanity, pride, and 
 fenfuality, which fprings from the corruption of our 
 ftate ? 
 
 Could you think, my children, when you look at the 
 world, and fee what culloms, and fa(hions, and pleafures, 
 and troubles, and projects, and tempers, employ the 
 hearts and time of mankind, that things were thus, as I 
 have told you ? 
 
 But do not you be affected at thefe things, the world 
 is in a great dream, and but few people are awake in it. 
 
 We fancy that we fall into darknefs, when we die j 
 but alas, we are molt of us in the dark till then; and 
 the eyes of our fouls only then begin to fee, when our 
 bodily eyes are clofing. 
 
 You fee then your ftate, my children; you are to ho* 
 nour, improve, and perfect the fpirit that is within you, 
 you are to prepare it for the kingdom of heaven, to nou- 
 rifh it with the love of God, and of virtue, to adorn it 
 with good w^orks, and to make it as holy and heavenly 
 as you can. You -re to preferve it from the errors and 
 vanities of the world; to lave it from the corruptions of 
 
 the 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 259 
 
 the body, from thofe falfe delights, and fenfual tempers^ 
 which the body tempts it with. 
 
 You are to nourilh your fpirlts with pious readings, 
 and holy meditations, with watchings, fadings, and 
 prayers, that you may taile, and relifh, and defire 
 that eternal ilate, which is to begin when this life 
 ends. 
 
 As to your bodies, you are to coTifider them as poor, 
 perifhing things, that are fickly and corrupt at prefent, 
 and will foon drop into common duft. You are to watch 
 over them as enemies, that are always trying to tempt 
 and betray you, and fo never follow their advice and 
 counfelj you are to confider them as the place and habi- 
 tuation of your fouls, and fo keep them pure, and clean, 
 and decentj you are to confider them as the fervants 
 and initruments of a£lion, and fo give them food, and 
 reft, and raiment, that they may be itrong and healthful 
 to do the duties of a charitable, ufeful, pious life. 
 
 Whilft you live thus, you live like yourfelves ; and 
 whenever you have lefs regard to your fouls, or moi*e re- 
 gard to your bodies, than this comes to ; whenever you 
 are more intent upon adorning your perfons, than upon 
 perfe6ling of your fouls, you are much more befide 
 yourfelves, than he, that had rather have a laced coat, 
 than an healthful body. 
 
 For this reafon, my children, I have taught you no- 
 thing that was dangerous for you to learn : I have kept 
 you from every thing that might betray you into weak- 
 nefs and folly; or make you think any thing fine, but a 
 fine mindj any thing happy but the favour of God *, or 
 any thing defirable, but to do all the good you poflibly 
 can. 
 
 Inftead of the vain, immodeft entertainment of Plays 
 and Operas, I have taught you to delight in vifiting the 
 fick and poor. What mufic, and dancing, and diveriions 
 are to many in the world, that prayers and devotions, 
 and pfalms are to you. Your hands have not been em- 
 ployed in plaiting the hair, and adorning your perfons; 
 but in making clothes for the naked. You have not 
 wafted your fortunes upon yourfelves, but have added 
 your labour to them, to do more good to other people. 
 
 Inftead of forced Ihapes, patched faces, genteel airs, 
 
 and 
 
2^0 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 and afFe6led motions, I have taught you to conceal your 
 bodies with modeft gai-monts, and let the world have 
 nothing to view of you, but the plainnefs and fincerity, 
 and humility of all your behaviour. 
 
 You know, my children, the high perfeftion, and the 
 great rewards of virginity; you know how it frees from 
 worldly cares and troubles, and furnifhes means and op- 
 portunities of higher advancement in a divine life; there- 
 fore love, and edeem, and honour virginity ; 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 pieafures of matri- 
 mony, to be perpetual examples of folitude, contempla- 
 tion, and prayer. 
 
 But as every one has their proper gift from God, as 
 I look upon you all to be fo many great biellings of a 
 married Itate ; fo I leave it to your choice, either to do 
 as I have done, or to afpire after higher degrees of per- 
 fe6lion in a virgin ftate of life. 
 
 I defire nothing, f prefs nothing upon you, but to 
 make the mod of human life, and to afpire after perfec- 
 tion in whatever itate of life you chufe. 
 
 Never therefore confider yourfelves as perfons that 
 are to be feen, admired, and courted by men ; but as 
 poor fmners, that are to fave yourfelves from the vani- 
 ties and follies of a miferable world, by humility, devo- 
 tion, and felf-denial. 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 you can turn in- 
 to a fervice to God, and a means of your future happi- 
 nefs. 
 
 Confider often how powerfully you are called to a 
 virtuous life, and what great and glorious things God 
 lias done for yo-u, to make you in love with every thing 
 that can promote his glory. 
 
 Think upon the vanity and (hortnefs of human life, 
 and let death and eternity be often in your minds: for 
 thefe thoughts will fcrengthen and exalt your minds, 
 make you v*^ife and judicious, and truly fenfible of the 
 littlenefs of human things. 
 
 Think of the happinefs of prophets and apoftles, 
 faints and martyrs, who are now rejoicing in the pre- 
 
 fenc& 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 261 
 
 fence of God, and fee themfelves pofleflbrs of' eternal 
 glory. And then think how dciirablc a thing it is, to 
 watch and pray, and do good as they did, that when 
 you die you may have your lot amongft them. 
 
 Whether married therefore or unmarried, confider 
 yourfelves as mothers and filters, as friends and rela- 
 tions to all that want your afliftance •, and never allow 
 yourfelves to be idle, whiift others are in want of any 
 thing that your hands can make for them. 
 
 Thisufeful, charitable, humble employment of your- 
 felves, is what I recommend to you with great earneil- 
 nefs, as being a fubitantiai part of a wife and pious life. 
 And befides the good you will thereby do to other peo- 
 ple, every virtue of your own heart will be very much 
 improved by it. 
 
 For next to reading, m.editation, and prayer, there 
 is nothing that fo fecures our hearts from foolifli 
 paliions, nothing that preferves foholy and wife a frame 
 of mind, as fome ufeful, humble employment of our- 
 felves. 
 
 Never therefore confider your labour as an amufe- 
 nert, that is to get rid of your time, and fo may be as 
 trifling as you pleafe; but confider it as fomething that 
 is to be ferviceable to yourfelves and others, that is to 
 ferve fome fober ends of life, to fave and redeem your 
 time, and make it turn to your account, when the works 
 cf all people fhall be tried by fire. 
 
 When you was little, i left you to little amufe- 
 ments, to pleafe yourfelves in any things that were free 
 from harm ; but as you are nov/ grown up to a know- 
 ledge of God, and yourfelves; as your minds are now 
 acquainted with the worth and value of virtue, and ex- 
 alted with the great do6lrines of religion, you are now 
 to do nothing as children, but defpiie every thing that 
 is poor, or vain, and impertinent ; you are now to 
 make the labours of your hands fuitable to the piety 
 of your hearts, and employ yourfelves for the fame 
 en.ds, and with the fame fpirit, as you watch and pray^ 
 
 For if there is any good to be done by your labour^ 
 if you can poffibly employ yourfelves ufefuUy to other 
 j)eople^ how filly is it, how contrary to the wifdom of 
 
 religion^ 
 
262 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 religion, to make that a mere amufement, which might 
 as eafily be made an exercife of the greateft charity? 
 
 What would you think of the wifdom of him, that 
 fliould employ his time in diftilling of waters, and 
 making liquors which nobody could ufcj 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 employed, as tlivle that are 
 amufmg themfelves with fuch tedious works as they nei- 
 ther need, nor hardly know how to ufe them when they 
 are finiihed *, when with lefs labour and expence they 
 might be doing as much good, as he that is clothing the 
 naked, orvifiting the Tick. 
 
 Be glad therefore to know the wants of the poorefl 
 people, and let your hands be employed in making fuch 
 mean and ordinary things for them, as their neceiTuies 
 require. By thus making your labour a gift and fer- 
 vice to the poor, your ordinary work will be changed 
 into a holy forvice, 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 greateft faints i fo 
 nothing can make your own charity more amiable in 
 the fight of God, than this method of adding your la- 
 bour to it. 
 
 The humility alfo of this employment will be as be- 
 neficial to you, as the charity of it. It will keep you 
 from all vain and proud thoughts of your own ftate and 
 diftin61:ion in life, and from treating the poor as creatures 
 of a different fpecies. By accuRoming yourfelves to this 
 labour and fervice to the poor, as the reprefentatives of 
 Jefus Chrift, you will foon find your heart foftened in- 
 to the greateft meeknefs and lowlinefs towards them] 
 ITou will* reverence their eflate and condition, think it 
 an honour to ferve them, and never be fo pieafed v/ith 
 yourfelf, as when you are moft humbly employed in 
 their fervice. 
 
 This will make you true difciples of your mieek Lord 
 and mafter, who came into the luorld not to be numj}ered 
 untOf but to mhrijler; and though he was Lord of allj and. 
 
 amongft 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 263 
 
 amongfl the creatures of his own making, yet was a- 
 monglt them, as one that ferveth. 
 
 Chriftianity has then had its moll: glorious effe£i:s upon 
 your hearts, when it has thus changed your fpirit, re- 
 moved all the pride of life from you, and made you de- 
 light in humbling yourielves 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 5 and let 
 ceremonious vifits, and vain acquaintances, have as little 
 of your time as you poiTibly can. Contradl no fooliih 
 friendfhips, or vain fondnefles for particular perfons-, but 
 love them molt, that moft turn your love towards God, 
 and your compaffion towards all the world. 
 
 But above ali, avoid the converfition of fine bred fops 
 and beaux, and hate nctliing more than the idle difcourfe, 
 the flattery and cimpliments of that fort of men*, for 
 they are the fliame of their own fex, and ought to be 
 the abhorrence, of yours. 
 
 Y/'hen you go abroad, let humility, modefty, and a 
 decent carriage, be all the ftate that you take upon you; 
 and let tendernefs, compaffion, and good nature, be all 
 the fine breeding that you fhew in any place. 
 
 If evil fpeaking, fcandal, or backbiting, be the con- 
 veriation where you happen to be, keep your heart and 
 your tongue to yourfelf ; be as much grieved, as if you 
 was amongft curhng 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 thofe perfections, 
 which you have been labouring after yourfelves; who is 
 likely to be a friend to all your virtues, and with whom 
 it is better to live, than to v/ant the benefit of his ex- 
 ample. 
 
 Love poverty, and reverence poor people; as for many 
 reafons, fo particularly for this, becaufe our bleiTed Sa- 
 viour was one of the number, and becaufe you may 
 make them all fo many friends and advocates with God 
 for you. 
 
 Vifit and converfe with them frequently •, you will 
 cx'ten find fimpiicity, innocence, patience, fortitude, and 
 
 great 
 
254 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 great piety amongfl them ; and where they are not fo,, 
 your good example may amend them. 
 
 Rejoice at every opportunity of doing an humble 
 action, and exerciiing the meeknefs of your rrdnds ; 
 whether it be, as the Scriptm-e exprefles it, in waHi- 
 ing the faints' feet, that is, in waiting upon, and fer- 
 ving thofe that are below you ; or in bearing with the 
 haughtinefs and ill manners of thofe that are your e- 
 quals, or above you. For there is nothing better than 
 humility ; it is the fruitful foil of all virtues 5 and e- 
 very thing that is kind and good, naturally grows 
 from it. 
 
 Therefore, my children, pray for, and pra£life humi- 
 lity, and reject every thing in drefs, or carriage, or con- 
 verfation, that has any appearance of pride. 
 
 Strive to do every thing that is praife worthy, but do- 
 nothing in order to be praifed; nor think of any reward 
 for all your labours of love and virtue, till Chrift com- 
 edi v/ith all his holy angels. 
 
 And above all, my cliildren, have a care of vain and 
 proud thoughts of your cv/n virtues- For as foon as ever 
 people live different from the common way of the world, 
 and defpifes its vanities, the devil reprefents to their 
 minds the heights of their own perfe£i;i.onsj and is con- 
 tent they fhould excel in good v/orks, provided that he 
 can but make them proud of them. 
 
 Therefore watch over your virtues with a jealous 
 .eye, and reject every vain thought, as you would re- 
 je£t the moft wicked imaginations ; and think what a 
 lofs it would be to you, to have the fruit of all your 
 good works, devoured 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 alv/ays v/hifpering it into your ears, that 
 you yourfelves will fall from thoie ruies to-moriow, 
 if God fnould leave you to your own ftrength and wif- 
 dom. 
 
 Y/hen therefore you have fpentdays and weeks well, 
 do not fuffer your hearts to contemplate any thing as 
 your own^ but give all the glory to the goodneis of 
 
 God, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 265> 
 
 God, who has carried you through fuch. rules of holy 
 living, as you v/ere 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 want the daily ailiftance of God to 
 fave you from the groflelt fnis. 
 
 Your dear father was an humble, watchful, pious, wife 
 man. Whiift his ficknefs would fufFer him to talk with 
 me, his diicourfe was chiefly about your education. Ke 
 knew the benefits of humility, he faw the ruins which 
 pride made in cur fex -, and therefore he conjured me 
 v*dth the tendereft expreffions, to renounce the fafl-iion- 
 ble way of educating daughters in pride and foftnefs, 
 in the care "of their beauty and drefs ; and to bring you 
 nil up in the plained, fimpleit iniiances of an humble, 
 holy, and induftrious life. 
 
 He taught me an admirable rule of humility, which 
 he praftifed all the days of his life ; which was this j to 
 let no morning pafs, without thinking upon fome frailty 
 and infirmity of our own, that may put us to confufion, 
 make us blufli inwardly, and entertain a mean opinion 
 of ourfelves. 
 
 Think therefore, my children, that the foul of your 
 good father, who is now with God, fpeaks to you through 
 my mouth j and let the double defire of your father, who 
 is gone, and I, who am with you, prevail upon you to 
 love God, to (tudy your own perfection, to pra£life hu- 
 mility, and with innocent labour and charity, to do all 
 the good that you can to all your fellovz-creatures, till 
 God calls you to another life. 
 
 Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters. 
 
 The fpirit of this education fpeaks fo plainly for itfelf, 
 that, I hope, I need fay nothing in its juftification. If 
 we could fee it in life, as well as read of it in books^ the 
 "world would foon find the happy efFe£ls of it, 
 
 A daughter thus educated, would be a blefling to any 
 family that (he came into ; a fit companion for a wile 
 man, and make him happy in the government of his fa- 
 mily, and the education of his children. 
 
 And {lie that either was not inclined, or could not dif- 
 pofe of herfelf well in marriage, would know how to live 
 to great and excellent ends in a ilate of virginity. 
 
 Avery 
 
266 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 A very ordinary knowledge of the fpirit of Chrlftianity, 
 feems to be enough to convince us, that no education can 
 be of true advantage to young women, but that which 
 trains them up in humble induilry, in great plalnnefs of 
 life, in exa6l modefty of drefs, manners, and carriage, and 
 in flrift devotion. For what fliould a Chriflian woman be 
 but a plain, unaffected, modeil, humble creature, averfe to 
 every thing in her drefs and carriage, that can draw the 
 eyes of beholders, or gratify the palfions of lewd and 
 amorous perfons ? 
 
 Howgreataftrangermufthebe to the Gofpel, who does 
 not know that it requires this to be the fpirit of a pious 
 woman ? 
 
 Our bleffed Saviour faith, Whofoever looheth upon a *ivo- 
 maji to liiji after her^ hath already conwntted adultery with 
 her in his heart. St. Matt. v. 28. 
 
 Need an education which turns women's minds to the 
 arts and ornaments of drefs and beauty, be more itrongly 
 condemned, than by thefe words .'' Forfurely, if the eye 
 is fo eafily and dangeroully betrayed, every art and orna- 
 ment is fulHciently condemned, that naturally tends to 
 betray it. 
 
 And how can a woman of piety more juftly abhor and 
 avoid any thing, than that which makes her perfon more 
 a fnare and temptation to other people ^ If luft and wan- 
 ton eyes are the death of the foul, can any woman think 
 themfelves innocent, who with naked breads, patched 
 faces, and every ornament of drefs, invite the eye to of- 
 fend ? 
 
 And as there is no pretence for innocence in fuch a be- 
 haviour, fo neither can they tell how to fet any bounds 
 to their guilt. For as they can never know how much, 
 or how often they have occafioned hn in other people, fo 
 they can never know how much guilt will be placed to 
 their own account. 
 
 This one would think fhould fufEciently deter every 
 pious woman from every thing that might render her the 
 occafion of loofe palfions in other people. 
 
 St. Paul, fpeakmg of a thing entirely innocent, reafons 
 after this manner: But take heed, lejl by any means this li^ 
 berty of yours become ajlumhling-block to t: oje that are lutak, 
 ■■ Jdnd through thy bioivledge thy lueak brother per lOjy for 
 
 whom 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 267 
 
 *whom Chr'ijl died. But luhen yeftn fo againjl the hre- 
 
 threny and ivound their iveak confclence^ye fin againjl Chrijl, 
 
 Wherefore., if meat make my brother to offend y I ^vill eat no 
 
 Jiefj ivhile the world jlandethy lejl I make my brother to of' 
 
 fend, 1 Cor. viii. 9,-13. 
 
 Now if this is the fpirit of Chriftianity ; if it requires 
 US to abftain from things tlius lawful, innocent, and ufe- 
 ful, v/hen there is any danger of betraying our weak bre- 
 thren into an error thereby : Surely it cannot be reckon- 
 ed too nice or needlefs a point of confcience, for women 
 to avoid fuch things, as are neither innocent nor ufeful, 
 but naturally tend to corrupt their own hearts, and raife 
 ill pafTions in other people. 
 
 Surely every woman of Chriftian piety ought to fay, 
 in the fpirit of the Apoftle, if patching and paint, or any 
 vain adorning of my perfon, be a natural means of ma- 
 king 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 fhall now leave this fubjecl of humility; having faid 
 enough, as I hope, to recommend the necelFity of making 
 it the conflanr, chief fubje6l of your devotion at this 
 hour of prayer. 
 
 I have confidered the nature and neceiTity of humility, 
 and its great importance to a religious life. I have fhewa 
 you how many diiliculties are formed againfl it from our 
 natural tempers, the fpirit of the world, and the common 
 education of both fexes. 
 
 Thefe confiderations will, I hope, inflruft you how 
 to form your prayers for it to the beft advantage ; and 
 teach you the necefhty of letting no day pafs, without a 
 ferious earneil application to God, for the whole fpirit 
 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 deligns, but fuch as are the 
 true fruits of an humble, meek, and lowly heart. 
 
 That you may always appear poor, and little, and 
 mean in your own eyes, and fully content that others 
 fhould have the fame opinion of you. 
 
 That the whole courfe of your life, your expence, your 
 
 houfe, 
 
268 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ht)ufe, your drefs, your manner of eating, drinking, con- 
 verfmg, and doing every thing, may be fo many conti* 
 nual proofs of the true unfeigned humility of your heart. 
 That you may look for nothing, claim nothing, refent 
 nothing ; that you may go through all the actions and 
 accidents of life cahnly and quietly, as in the prefence 
 of God, looking wholly unto him, acting wholly for him ^ 
 neither feeking vain applaufe, nor refenting neglects, or 
 affronts, but doing and receiving every thing in the meek 
 and lowly fpirit of our Lord and Saviour Jeius Chriil. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 JR.ecomn:ending Devotion at twelve o^dochf called In Scrips 
 tare the fixth hour of the day. The frequency of devotion 
 equally deftrahle by all orders of people. Univerral love is 
 here recommended to he the fuhjeEt of prayer at this hour^ 
 Of inter cejjiony as an a5l of univerjal love, 
 
 IT will perhaps be thought by fome people, that thefe' 
 hours of prayer come too thick ; that they can only 
 *be obferved by people of great leifure, and ought not to 
 be prefled upon the generality of men, who have the cares 
 ■of families, trades and employments •, nor upon the gen- 
 try, whofe Itate and figure in the world cannot admit of 
 this frequency of Devotion. And that it is only ht for 
 nionafleries and nunneries, or fuch people as have no 
 -more to do in the v/orld than they have. 
 
 To this it is anfwered, 
 
 Firfiy That this method of Devotion is not prefTed up- 
 'on any fort of people, as ablolutely neceiTary, but re- 
 commended to ail people, as the belt, the happieft and 
 moft perfeft way of life. 
 
 And if a great and examplary Devotion is as much the 
 greatefl hnpinnefs and perfection of a merchant, a foldier, 
 or a man of quality, as it is the greateft happinefs, and 
 perfection of the moft retired contemplative life, tlien it 
 is as proper to recommend it M^thout any abatements to 
 one order of men as to another. Becaufe happinefs and 
 perfection are of the fame worth and value to all people. 
 
 The gentleman and tradefman may, and miift fpend 
 
 much 
 
DEVOUr AND HOLY LIFE. 269 
 
 much of their time differently from the pious monk in 
 the cloyfter, or the contemplative hermit in the defart: 
 But then, as the monk and hermit lofe the ends of re- 
 tirement, unlefs they make it all ferviceable to devotion ; 
 fo the gentleman and merchant fail of the greatefl ends 
 of a focial life, and live to their lofs in the world, unlefs 
 devotion be their chief and governing- temper. 
 
 It is certainly very honeil and creditable for people to 
 engage in trades and employments ; it is reafonable for 
 gentlemen to manage well their eftates and families, and 
 fuch recreations as are proper to their (late. But then 
 every gentleman and tradefman lofes the greateft hap- 
 pinefs of his creation, is roblDed of fomething that is 
 greater than all employmicnts, diilin(Slions and pleafu.es 
 of the world, if he does not live more to Piety and De- 
 votion, than to any thing elfe in the world. 
 
 Here are therefore no excufes made for men of bufi- 
 nefs and figure in the world. Firlt, Becaufe it would 
 be to excufe them from that which is the greatefl end of 
 living j and be only finding fo niany realbns for a- 
 king them lefs beneficial to themfelves, and lefs fervicea- 
 ble to God and the world. 
 
 Secondly, Becaufe moll men of bufinefs and figure 
 engage too far in worldly matters ; much farther than 
 the reafons of human life, or the necefTities of the world 
 require. 
 
 Merchants and tradefman, for inftance, are generally 
 ten times farther engpsged in buGnefs than they need ; 
 which is fo far from being a reafonable excufe for their 
 want of tim^e for devotion, that it is their crime, and 
 muft be cenfured as a blameable inftance of covetoufnefs 
 and ambition. 
 
 The gentry, and people of figure, either give them- 
 felves up to ftatc employments, or to the gratitications of 
 their pafTions in a life of gaiety and debauchery j and 
 if thefe things might be admitted as allovv-able avoca- 
 tions from devotion, devotion mufl be reckoned a poor 
 circumflance of life. 
 
 Unlefs gentlemen can fhew that they have another 
 God, than the Father of our Lord Jefus Chriil 5 another 
 nature, than that which is derived from Adam ; another 
 religion, than the Chriftian, it is in vain to plead their 
 
 M ftate 
 
570 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 flate, and dignity, and pleafures, as reafons for not pre- 
 -paring their fouls for God, by a ftridl and regular devo- 
 tion. 
 
 For fince piety and devotion are the common un- 
 changeable means of faving ail the fouls in the world 
 that Ihall be faved, there is nothing left for the gen- 
 tleman, the foldier, and the tradefman, but to take care 
 that their feveral dates be, by care and watchfulnefs, by 
 meditation and prayer, made ftates of an exa£l andfolid 
 piety. 
 
 If a merchant having forbore from too great bufinefs, 
 that he might quietly attend on the fervice of God, 
 iliould therefore die worth twenty, inftead of fifty thou- 
 fand pounds, could any one fay that he had miftaken 
 his calling, or gone a lofer out of the world ? 
 
 If a gentleman fhould have killed fewer foxes^ been 
 lefs frequent at balls, gaming, and merry-meetings, be- 
 caufe ftated parts of his time had been given to retire- 
 ment, to meditation and devotion, could it be thought, 
 that when he left the world, he would regret the lofs af 
 thofe hours that he had given to the care and improve- 
 ment of kis foul ? 
 
 If a tradefman, by afpiring after Chriftlan perfection, 
 and retiring himfelf often from his bufmefs, fhould, in- 
 ftead of leaving his children fortunes to fpend in luxury 
 •and idlencfs, leave them to live by their own honeft la- 
 bour; could it be faid, that he had made a wrong ufe of 
 the world, becaufe he had fhewn his children, that he 
 had more regard to that which is eternal, than to this 
 •which is fo foon to be at an end. 
 
 Since therefore devotion is not only the beft and moft 
 defireable pra6tice in a cloyfter, but the bell and moft 
 defireable practice of men, as men, and in every ftate of 
 life, they that deiire to be excufed from it, becaufe they 
 r.re men of figure, and cftates, and bufinefs, are no vvilcx 
 than thofe that fhould defire to be excufed from health 
 and happinefs, becaufe they were men of figure and 
 eftates. 
 
 I cannot fee why every gentleman, merchant, or 
 foldier,rnouId not put thefe queftions ferioufly to himfelf: 
 
 " What is the beft thing for me to intend and drive at 
 in all my adions ? How fhall I do to make the moft of 
 
 human 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 2 it 
 
 liuiiun life ? What v/ays fhall I wifti that I had taken,; 
 when I am leaving the world ?" 
 
 Now to be thus wife, and to make thus much ufe o^ 
 our reafon, feems to be but a fmali and neceilary piece 
 of wifdom. For how can we pretend to fenfe and ' 
 judgment, if we dare notferioufly confider, and anfwer, 
 and govern our lives by that which fuch queftions re- 
 quire of us ? 
 
 Shall a nobleman think his birth too high a dignity to 
 condefcend to fuch queftions as thefe ? Or a tradefmau 
 think his bufniefs too great, to take any care about him-, 
 felf? 
 
 Now here is defired no more devotion in any one's 
 life, than the anfwering thefe few queftions require. 
 
 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 ; any. devotion that does not procure an infi- 
 nitely greater good, than caiL be got by neglecting it, is 
 freely yielded up, here is no demand of it. 
 
 But if people will live in fo much ignorance, as never 
 to put thefe queftions to themfelves, but pulh on a blind 
 life at ail chances, in queft of they do not know what or 
 why, without ever confidering the worth, or value, or 
 tendency of their anions ; without confi-dering what 
 (jod, reafon and eternity, and their own happinefs re- 
 quire of them.; it is for the Iionour of devotion that nono 
 can negleci it, but thofe who are thus inconfiderate, who 
 dare not enquire after that which is the beft, and moft 
 worthy of their choice. 
 
 It is true, Claudius, you are a man of figure and eftate, 
 and are to act the part of fuch a ftation of human life ; 
 you are not called, as Elijah was, to be a prophet, or as 
 -8t Paul, to be an apoftle. 
 
 But will you therefore not love yourfelf ? Will you 
 not feek and ftudy your own happinefs, becaufe you 
 are not called to preach up the fame things to other peo • 
 pie ? 
 
 You would think it very abfurd, for a man not to va- 
 lue his own health, becaufe lie was not a phyfician^ or tiie 
 prefervation of his limbs, becaufe he was not a bone 
 letter. Yet it is more abfurd for you; Claudius, to ne- 
 
 M 2 gleet 
 
272 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 gle£l the improvement of your foul in piety, becaufe 
 you are not an apoflle, or a bifhop. 
 
 Confider this text of Scripture, If ye live after the jlejhy 
 yefhaH die ; but if through the Jpirit ye do mortify the deeds 
 of the body ^ ye poall live. For as many as are led by the Jpi^ 
 rit of God, they are the fons of God. Rom. viii. 13, 14. 
 Do you think that this fcripture does not equally relate 
 to all mankind ? Can you find any exception here for 
 men of figure and eft ate ? Is not a fpiritual and devout 
 life here made the common condition, on which all men 
 are to become fons of God ? Will you leave hours of 
 prayer, and rules of devotion, to particular ftates of life, 
 v/hen nothing but the fame fpirit of devotion can fave 
 you, or any man, from eternal death ? 
 
 Confider again this text : For lue mifl all appear be- 
 fore the judgment feat oj Chrif, that every one may receive 
 the things done in his body^ according to that he hath done, 
 'ivhethcr it be good or bad. 2 Cor, v. 10. Now if your 
 eitate would excufe you from appearing before this judg- 
 ment-feat ; if your figure could protect you from re- 
 ceiving according to your works, there would be fome 
 pretence for your leaving devotion to other people. 
 But if you who are now thus diftinguiflied, muft; then 
 appear naked amongft common fouls, without any other 
 diitinftion from others, but fuch as your virtues or fins 
 give you ; does it not as much concern you, as any pro- 
 phet, or apoftle, to make the bell provifion for the bell 
 xew'ards at that great day ? 
 
 Again, conlider this great doftrine of the apoftle : 
 J^or 7ione of us^ that is, of us Chriftians, liveth to hinfelf : 
 For ivhether lue live, lue live unto the Lord ; and ivhether 
 *we die, ive die unto the Lord. For to this end Chrid both 
 died, and rofe, and revived, that he might be Lord both of 
 the dead and the lining. 
 
 Now are you, Claudius, excepted out of the do£l:rine 
 of this text ? Will you, becaufe of your condition, leave 
 it to any particular fort of people, to live and die unto 
 Chrift ? If fo, you mull leave it to them, to be redeem- 
 ed by the death and refurre£lion of Chrift. For it is 
 the exprefs doctrine of the text, that for this end Chrift 
 died and rofe again, that none of us fliould live to him- 
 felf. It is not that priefts, or apoftlcs, monks, or her- 
 mits, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 273 
 
 mits, lliould live no longer to themfelves *, but that none 
 of us, that is, no Chriftian, of what ftate foever, fhould 
 live. unto himfelf. 
 
 If therefore there be any inftances of piety, any rules 
 of devotion, vv^hich you can neglecSl and yet live as truly 
 unto Chrift, as if you obferved them, this text calls you 
 to no fuch devotion. But if you f orfake fuch devotion, 
 as you yourfelf know is expe61:ed from fome particular 
 forts of people ; fuch devotion as you know becomes 
 people that live wholly unto Chrift, that afpire after 
 great piety ; if you neglecSl fuch devotion for any world- 
 ly confideration, that you may live more to your own 
 temper and tafte, more to the fafhions and ways of the 
 world, you forfake the terms on which all Chriitians are 
 to receive the benefit of Chrifc's death and refurrec- 
 tion. 
 
 Obferve farther, how the fame do(Sl:rine is taught by 
 St Peter ; As he ivhich hath called you is holy^ Jo he ye holy 
 in all manner of convcrfation. 1 Pet. i. 15. 
 
 If therefore, Claudius, 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 religion as fuits with your tem- 
 per, your bufinefs, or your pleafures -, it is not to a par- 
 ticular fort of piety, that may be fuihcient for gentle- 
 men of figure and eftatesj but it is firft, to be holy, as he 
 which hath called you is holy \ fecondly, it is to be thus 
 holy in all manner of converfation \ that is, to carry this 
 fpirit and degree of holinefs inio every part, and through 
 the whole form of your life. 
 
 And the reafon the apoftle immediately gives, why 
 this fpirit of holinefs muft be the common fpirit of Chrif- 
 tians, as fuch, is very aif ecSling, and fuch as equally calls 
 upon all forts of Chriftians. Fomfmuch as ye know, fays 
 he, that ye luere not redeemed luith corruptible things, as 
 Jilver a7jd goldy from your vain converfation — but ivith the 
 pncious blood of Chrift &c. 
 
 As if he had faid, Forafmuch as ye know ye were 
 made capable of this ftate of holinefs, entered into a 
 fociety with Chrift, and made heirs of his glory, not by 
 any human means, but by fuch a myfterious inftance of 
 love, as infinitely exceeds every thing that can be thought 
 of in this work! 5 hnce God has redeemed you to him^- 
 
 M 3 felf 
 
2.4? A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 felf, and your own happinefs, at fo great a price, how 
 bafe and (hameful muft it be, if you do not henceforth 
 devote yourfelves wholly to the glory of God, and be- 
 come holy, as he who hath called you is holy ? 
 
 If therefore, Clandius, you confider your figure and 
 eftate ; or if, in the words of the text, you confid-er 
 your gold and filver, and the corruptible things of this 
 life, as any reafon why you may live to your own hu- 
 mour and fancy, why you may negle£l: a life of drift 
 piety and great devotion ; if you think any thing in the 
 world can be an excufe for your not imitaring the holi- 
 nefs of Chriil: in the whole courfe and form of your life, 
 you may make yourfelf as guilty, as if you fljould ne- 
 glecl the helinefs of Chriftianity for the lake of picking 
 itraws. 
 
 For the greatnefs of this new (late of life to which we 
 are called in Chriit Jcfus, to be for ever as the angels of 
 God in heaven, and the greatnefs of the price by which 
 we are made capable of this {late of glory, has turned 
 every thing that is v/orldly, temporal, and corruptible 
 into an equal littlenefs ; and m-ake it as great bafenefs 
 and folly, as great a contempt of the blood of Chriil, to 
 negletl any degrees of holinefs, becaule you are a man 
 of iome eilate and quality, as it would be to negle£l it, 
 becaufe you had a fancy to pick ftraws. 
 . Again, the fame apoiUe faith, Knoiu ye noi^ that ycur 
 Icdy is the temple of the Holy Ghoji nvhich is in youy and ye 
 are tict your ciun F For yj are bought ivith a price ; there- 
 fore glorify God In your hody^ and in y:ur Jpirit, ivhich are 
 ^Qjd's, 1 Cor. vi. 19,2f\ 
 
 How poorly therefore, Claudius, have you read the 
 fcripture ? hew little do you know of Chrillianity, if 
 you can yet talk of your eflate and condition, as a pre- 
 tence for a freer kind of life ? 
 
 Are you any more your own, than he that has no 
 eflate or dignity in the world? Mufl mean and little peo- 
 ple preferve their bodies as temples of the Holy Gholl, 
 by watching, fading, and prayer ; but may you indulge 
 yours in iciienefs, in luds, and fenfuality, becaufe ye 
 have lo much rent, or fuch a title of diftinction ? How 
 poor and ignorant are fuch thoughts as thefe ? And yet 
 you muft either think tiius, or elfe acknowledge, that the 
 
 hoU' 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFF. 275 
 
 horniefs of faints, prophets, and apoftles, Is the holluefs 
 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 temper- 
 aiice, as may render them able to glorify God in their- 
 body, and in their fpirit -, you muil leave it to them alfo,. 
 to have the benefit of the blood of Chriit. 
 
 Again ; the Apoftle faith, Ton know hciv we exhort-* 
 ed, cotnfortedy a/?d charged every one of you ^ that you wotilJ 
 ivalk ivorihy of God ^ luho hath called you to his kingdom and 
 glory .^ 1 rheff. ii. 11 . 
 
 You perhaps, Claudius, have often heard thefe words 
 without ever thinking how much they required of you. 
 And yet you. cannot confider them, without perceiving 
 to v/hut im eminent (late of holinefs they call you. 
 
 For how can the iiolinefs of the Chriilian life be fet 
 before you in higher terms, than when it is reprefented 
 to you, as walking worthy of God ? Can you think of 
 any ab .tements of virtue, any negledis of devotion, that 
 are well confi'.tent with a life, that is to be made worthy 
 of God ? Can you fuppofe that any man walks in this 
 manner, but l;e 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 exprefiioiis 
 carry this holinefs, it is here plainly made the necelTary 
 holinefs of all ChrKtians. For the apoftle does not here 
 exhort his fellow Apoltles and Saints to this holinefs, 
 but he commands all Chriftians to endeavour after it : 
 We charged^ fays he, every one of youy that you -zvould 
 lUcdk ivcrthy of God, icho hath caUed you to his kingdom and 
 glory. 
 
 Again \ St Peter faith, If any manfpeak^ lethimfpeah 
 as the oracles of God ; f any man nufjijler, let him do it as 
 of the ability that God giveth ; that God in all things may 
 he glorified in Chrift J ejus, 1 Pet. iv. 11. 
 
 Do you not here, Claudius, plainly perceive your 
 high calling ? Is he that fpeaketh, to have fuch regard 
 to his words, that he appear to fpeak as by the diredlion 
 of God ? Is he that giveth, to take care that lie lb giveth, 
 that what he difpofetk of may appear to be a gift that 
 M 4. " he 
 
276 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 he hath of God ? And is all this to be done, that God 
 may be glorified in all things ? 
 
 _ Mull it not then be faid, Has any man nobility, dig- 
 nity of ftate, or figure in the world ? let him fo ufe his 
 nobility or figure of life, that it may appear he ufes thefe 
 as the gifts of God, for the greater fetting forth of his 
 glory. Is there now, Claudius, any thing forced, or 
 far-fetched in this conclufion ? It is not the plain fenfe 
 of the words, that every thing in life is to be made a 
 matter of holinefs unto God ? If fo, then your eitate 
 and dignity is fo far from excufing you from great piety 
 and holinefs of life, that it lays you under a greater ne- 
 ceffity 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 of figure, or bufmefs, or dignity 
 in the world, to leave great piety and eminent devotion 
 to any particular orders of men, or fuch as they think 
 have liitle elfe to do in the world, is to leave the kingdom 
 of God to them. For it is the very end of Chriftianity 
 to redeem all orders of men into one holy fociety, that 
 rich and poor, high and low, rnafters and fervants, m.ay 
 m one and the fame fpirit of piety, become a chojen gejie^ 
 raiiGn^ a royal priejihood, an holy nation^ a peculiar people^ 
 that are to jhew forth the praijes of him y nvho hath called 
 ikem out oj- darkfhfs, into his marvelkus light, 1 Peter 
 ii. 9. 
 
 Thus much being faid to fnew, that great devotion 
 and holinefs is not to be left to any particular fort of 
 people, but to be the common fpirit ot all that defire to 
 live up to the terms of common Chriilianity *, I now 
 proceed to confider the nature and neceflity of univerfal 
 love, which is here recommended to be the fubjeft of 
 your devotion at this hour. You are here alfo called to 
 intercefllon, as the moft proper exercife to raife and 
 preferve that love. By intercellion is meant a praying 
 to God, and interceding with him for our fellow crea- 
 tures. 
 
 Our blefied Lord hath recommended his love to us, 
 as the pattern and example of our love to one another. 
 As therefore he is continually making intercefuon for 
 
 ua 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 277 
 
 US all, fo ought we to intercede and pray for one ano- 
 ther. 
 
 A new commandment^ faith he, I give tinio you, that ye 
 love one another , as I have loved you. By thisJJjall all me?i 
 know that ye are my difciples, if ye love one another. 
 
 The newnefs of this precept did not confill 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 refpeft, that it v/as 
 to imitate a new, and till then unheard of example of 
 love ; it was to love one another, as Chriit had ioved 
 us. 
 
 And if men are to know that we are difciples of Chrifl:, 
 by thus loving one another according to his new exam- 
 ple 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 m.ore ac- 
 ceptable to God, than an univerfal fervent love to all 
 mankind, wdfhing and praying for their happinefs ; be- 
 caufe there is no principle of the heart that makes us 
 more like God, who is love and goodnefs itfelf, and crea- 
 ted all beings for their enjoyment of happinefs. 
 
 The greateftidea that "we can frame of God is, when 
 we conceive him to be a being of infinite love and good- 
 nefs ; ufmg an infinite wifdom and power for the com- 
 mon good and happinefs of all his creatures. 
 
 The highefl notion therefore that we can form of man 
 is when we conceive him as like to God in this refpe6t 
 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 be- 
 nefits and aflifl:ances from him, as his ftate and condition 
 in the world will permit him to give them. 
 
 And on the other hand, what a bafenefs and iniquity 
 is there in all inftances of hatred, envy, fpite, and ill- 
 will ; if we confider,.that every inftance of them is io 
 far acting in oppofitionto God, and intending mifchief 
 and harm to thofe creatures, which God favours, and. 
 protects, and preferves, in order to their happinefs ? An 
 ill-natured man amongft God's creatures, is the moft 
 perverfe creature in the world, acting contrary \o tha*- 
 IAS I-;-.^ 
 
^78 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 love, by which himfelf fubfifts, and which alone gives 
 lubfiflence to all that variety of beings, that enjoy life in 
 any part of the creation. Whatfoever ye would that men 
 JJjould do unto you, even Jo do untj tkem. 
 
 Now though this is a do61:rine of ftri£b juftice, yet it 
 is only an univerfal love that can comply with it. For 
 as love is the meafure of our ailing towards ourfelves, 
 fo we can never 2.Gt m the fame manner towards other 
 people, till we look upon them with that love with 
 which we look upon ourfelves. 
 
 As we have no degrees of fpite, or envy, or ill-will 
 to ourfelves, fo we cannot be difpofed towards others 
 as we are towards ourfelves, till we univerfally renounce 
 all inllances of fpite and envy, and ill-will, even in the 
 fmalleft degrees. 
 
 If we had any imperfeihion in our eyes, that made us 
 fee any one thing wrong, for the fame reafon they 
 would (liew us an hundred things wrong. 
 
 So if we have any temper of our hearts, that makes 
 us envious, or fpiteful, or ill-natured towards any one 
 man, the fame temper will make us envious, and fpiteful, 
 and ill-natured towards a great many more. 
 
 If therefore we defire this divine virtue of love, we 
 3'nuft exercife and pra6life our hearts in the love of all, 
 becaufe it is not Chriltian love, till it is the love of all. 
 
 If a man could keep this whole law of love, and yet 
 offend in one point, he would be guilty of all. For as 
 one allowed iiiltance of injuilice dellroys the juftice of 
 all our other anions, fo one allowed inltance of envy, 
 ipite, and ill-will, renders all our other ails of benevo- 
 lence and affecSlion nothing worth. 
 
 Aifs of love that proceed not from a principle of uni- 
 verfal love, are but like acls of jullice, that proceed from 
 a heart not difpofed to univerfal juftice. 
 
 A love which is not univerfal, may indeed have ten- 
 dernefs and affedion, but it hath nothing of righteouf- 
 nefs or piety in it ; it is but humour, and temper, or 
 interell, or fuch a love as Publicans and heathens prac- 
 tife. 
 
 All particular envies and fpites, are as plain departures 
 from the fpirit of Chriftianity, as any particular a£ls of 
 injuilice. For it is as much a law of Chriil, to treat 
 
 every 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 279 
 
 every body as your neigbour, and to love your neighbour 
 as yourfelf, as it is a law of Chrillianity, to abilain from 
 theft. 
 
 Now the nobleft motive to this univerfal tendernefs 
 and affedion, is founded in this dodrine, God is love, 
 and he that dwelleih in him, dwelleth in God. 
 
 Who therefore, whofe heart has any tendency to- 
 wards God, would not afpire after this divine temper, 
 which fo changes and exalts our nature into an union 
 v/ith him. 
 
 How (hould we rejoice in the exercife and practice 
 of this love, which fo often as v/e feel it, is io often an 
 aflurance to us, that God is in us, that v/e act according 
 to his fpirit, who is love itfelf ? But we muft pbferve 
 that love has then only this mighty power of uniting us • 
 to God, when it is fo pure and univerfal, as to imitate 
 that love, which God beareth to all his creatures. 
 
 God willeth the happinefs of all beingSj though it is 
 no happinefs to himfelf. Therefore we muft deiire the 
 happinefs of all beings, though no happinefs cometh to 
 us from it» . 
 
 God equally delighteth in the perfections of all his 
 creatures, therefore we fliould rejoice in thofe perfec- 
 tions, wherever we fee them, and be as glad to have 
 other people perfect as ourfelves. 
 
 As God forgiveth all, and giveth grace to all, fo we 
 fhould forgive all thofe injuries and aiFronts which we 
 receive from others, and do-all the good that we can to 
 them. 
 
 God almighty, befides his own great example of love 
 which ought to draw all his creatures after it, has io pro- 
 vided for us, and made our happinefs fo common to us 
 all, that we have no occafion to envy or hate one a- - 
 nother. 
 
 For we cannot ftand in one another's way, or by en* 
 joying any particular good, keep another from his full 
 fiiare of it. As we cannot be happy, but in the enjoy- 
 ment of God, fo we cannot rival, or rob one another of / 
 this happinefs. 
 
 And as to other things, the enjoyments and profperi- 
 ties of this life, they are fo little in themfelves, fo foreign 
 Xq cur happinefs, j^pd; generally fpeaking, fo contraiy 
 
 Me. to 
 
280 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 to that which they appear to be, that they are no foun* 
 dation for em y, or fpite, or hatred. 
 
 How fJly would it be to envy a man, that was drink- 
 ing poifon out of a golden cup ? and yet who can fay,- 
 that he is acting wifer than thus, when he is envying any 
 inftance of worldly greatnefs ? 
 
 How many faints has adverfity fent to heaven ? And 
 how many poor fmners has profperity plunged into 
 everlafting mifery ? A man feems then to be in the molt 
 glorious (late, when he has conquered, difgraced, and 
 humbled his enemy ; though it may be, that fame con- 
 queft has faved 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 poverty and difgrace. 
 
 She that is envied for her beauty, may perchance own 
 all her m^ifery to it ; and another may be for ever hap- 
 py, for having had no admirers of her perfon. 
 
 One man fucceeds in every thing, and fo lofes all : 
 Another meets with nothing but croiles and difappoint- 
 ments, and therby gains more than all the world is 
 ■worth. 
 
 This clergyman may be imdone by his being made a 
 bifhop ; and that may fave both himfelf and others, by 
 being fixed to his fiift poor vicarage. 
 
 How envied was Alexander, when conquering the 
 world, he built towns, fet up his ftatues, and left marks 
 of his glory in fo iriany kingdoms ! And how defpifed 
 was the poor preacher St Paul, when he was beaten 
 with rods ! And yet how flrangely was the world mif- 
 taken in their judgment ! How much to be envied was 
 St Paul ! How m.uch to be pitied was Alexander ! 
 
 Thefe few reflections fufnciently flrew us, that the 
 different conditions of this life have nothing in them to 
 excite our uneafy pafTions, nothing that can reafonably 
 interrupt our love and affection to one another. 
 
 To proceed now to another motive to this univerfal 
 love. 
 
 Our power of doing external a6ts of love andgoodnefsj 
 is often very narrow and reftrained. There are, it may 
 be, but few people to v/hoai we can contribute any 
 'woridly relief. 
 
 But 
 
DEVOUT AND H.OLY LIFE. 2S1 
 
 But though our outward means of doing good are of- 
 ten thus limited, yet if our hearts are but full of love and 
 goodnefs, we get as it were an infinite power •, becaufe 
 God will attribute to us thofe good works, thofe a6ls of 
 love and tender charities, which we hncerely defired> 
 and would gladly have performed, had it been in our 
 power. 
 
 You- cannot heal all the fick, relieve all the poor ; 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 thefe good works, and excites you to do all 
 that you can ; if your love has no bounds, but continual- 
 ly wiflies and prays for the relief and happinefs of all 
 that are in diftrefs, you will be received by God as a 
 benefactor to thofe, who have had nothing from you 
 but your good will, and tender afFedlions. 
 
 You cannot build hofpitais for the incurable j you 
 cannot ereft monalleries for the education of perfons in 
 holy folitude, continual prayer and mortification ; 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 eniinent 
 virtues, you will be received by God as a fharer of fuch 
 good works, as though they had none of yo\ir hands, 
 yet they had all your heart. 
 
 This confideration furely i^ fufiicient to make us look 
 to, and watch over our hearts with all diligence ; to 
 Itudy the improvement of our inward tempers, and afpire 
 after every height and perfection of a loving, charitable, 
 and benevolent mind. 
 
 And on the other hand, we may hence learn the 
 great evil and milchief of all wrong turns of mind, of 
 envy, fpite, hatred, and ill-will. For if the goodnefs 
 of our hearts will entitle us to the reward of good ac- 
 tions, which we never performed ; it is certain that the 
 badnefs of our hearts, our envy, ill-nature and hatred^ 
 will bring us under the guilt of adions that we have 
 never committed. . 
 
 As he that lufteth after a woman fliall be reckoned 
 
 an 
 
232" A SERIOUS CALL TO A- 
 
 an adulterer, though he has only committed' the crime 
 in his heart ; fo the malicious, fpiteful, ill-natured man, 
 that only fecretly rejoices at evil, (liall be reckoned a 
 murderer, though he has fhed no blood. 
 
 Since therefore our hearts, which are always naked, 
 and open to the eyes of God, give fuch an exceeding ex- 
 tent and increafe either to our virtues or vices, it is our 
 beft and greateft bufinefs to govern the motions of our 
 hearts, to watch, corredl, an\i improve the inward flate 
 and temper of our fouls. 
 
 Now there is nothing that fo much exalts our fouls, 
 as this heavenly love, it cleanfes and purifies like a holy 
 fire, and . all ill tempers fall av/ay before it. It makes 
 room for all virtues, and carries them to their greateft 
 height. Every thing that is good and holy grows out 
 of it, and it becomes a continual fource of all holy de- 
 fires, and pious praftices. By love, Ido not mean any 
 natural tendernefs, which is more or lefs in people ac- 
 cording to their conftitutions; but I mean a larger prin- 
 ciple of the foul, founded in reafon and piety, 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 becomes a holy principle of all great: 
 and good a£f ions. 
 
 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 fhall neceffarily love thofe beings that are ■ 
 fo nearly related to God, that have every thing from 
 him, and created by him, to be objects of his own eter»- 
 nal love. If I hate or defpife any one man in the world, 
 I hate fomething that God cannot hate, and defpife that . 
 which he loves. 
 
 And can I think that I love God with all my hearty, . 
 whilfl: I hate that which belongs only to God, which has 
 no other rnafter but him, which bears his image, is part , 
 of his family, and exiils only by the continuance of his 
 love towards it i* It was the impoflibility of this that 
 
 made 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 28S 
 
 made St John fay, That if any man faith , he loveth Goclg 
 and hateth his hrothey^ he is a liar, 
 
 Thefe reafons fufRciently fliew us, that no love is ho- 
 ly or religious, till it becomes univerfal. 
 
 For if religion requires me to love all perfons, as 
 God's creatures, that belong to him, that bear his image, 
 enjoy his protection, and make parts of his family and. 
 houlhold ; if thefe are the great and necefiary reafons 
 why I (hould live in love and friendfhip with any one 
 man in the world, they are the far*? great and necelTary 
 reafons why I (liould live in love and friendfliip with eve- 
 ry one man in the world: and confequently I offend a- 
 gainft all thefe reafons, and break through all thefe ties 
 and obligations, Vv^henever I want love towards any one 
 man. The fin therefore of hating or defpiimg anyone man, 
 is like the fm of hating all God's creation*, and the ne- 
 ceflity of loving any one man, is the fame neceflity of 
 loving every man in the world. And though many peo- 
 ple may appear to us ever io fmful, odious, or extrava- 
 gant in their condudl:, we mull never look upon that as 
 the leaft motive for any contempt or difregard of them, 
 but look upon them with the greater compaiTion, as be- 
 ing in the mod pitiable condition that can be. 
 
 As it was the fms of the world, that made the fon of 
 God become a compaffionate fuffering advocate for all 
 mankind; fo none is of the Spirit of Chrilt, but he that 
 has the utmofl. compaiTion for finners. Nor is there any 
 greater fign of your own perfection, than when you find 
 yourfelf all love and compaffion towards them that are 
 very weak and defe£live. And on the other hand, you 
 have never lefs reafon to bepleafed with yourfelf, than 
 when you find y^ourfelf moil angry and offended at the 
 behaviour of others. All iln is certainly to be hated and 
 abhorred wherever it is; but then we muil fet ourfelves 
 againft fin, as we do againfl ficknefs and difeafes, by 
 (hewing ourfelves tender and companionate to the fick 
 and difeafed. 
 
 All other hatred of fin, which does not fill the heart 
 •with the fofteit, tendereil affeClions 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 
 3:nore carefully to watch and guard againit than this. For 
 
 it 
 
284- A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 it is a temper that lurks and hides itfelf under the cover 
 of many virtues, and by being unfufpeded does the 
 more mifchief. 
 
 A man naturally fancies, that it is his own exceeding 
 love of virtue that makes him not able to bear with thofe 
 that want it And when he abhors one man, defpifes 
 another, and cannot bear the name of a third, he iup- 
 pofes it all to be a proof of his own high fenfe of virtue, 
 and juit hatred of fm. 
 
 And yet one woiUd think, that a man needed no other 
 cure for this temper, than this one reflecSliion: 
 
 That if this had been the fpirit of the Son of God, if 
 he had hated fm in this manner, there had been no re- 
 demption of the world : That if God had hated fmners 
 in this manner day and night, the 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 impro- 
 ved we are ourfelves ; and the higher our fenfe of vir- . 
 tue is, the m^ore we fhall pity and companionate thofe ^ 
 that want it. The fight of fuch people will then, in- 
 ftead of railing in us a haughty contempt, or peevifli 
 indignation towards them, fill us with fuch bowels of 
 ccmpaflion, as when we fee the miferies of an hofpital. 
 
 That the follies therefore, crimes and ill behaviour 
 of cur fellow-creatures, may not leflbn that love and 
 tendernefs which we are to have for all mankind, we 
 fhould cften confider the reafons on which this duty of 
 love is founded. 
 
 Now we are to love our neighbour, that is, all man- 
 kind, not becaufe they are wife, holy, virtuous, or well- 
 behaved; for all mankind neither ever was, nor ever will 
 be foj therefore it is certain, that the reafon of our being 
 obliged to love them, cannot be founded m their virtue. 
 
 Again ; if their virtue orgoodnefs were the reafon of 
 our being obliged to love people, we fhould have no rule 
 to proceed by ; becaufe though fome people's virtue or 
 vices are veiy notorious, yet, generally fpeaking, we are 
 but very ill judges of the virtue and merit of other 
 people. 
 
 Thirdly, Vv^e are fure that the virtue or merit of per- 
 foDs^ is not the reafon of our bein^ obliged to love them, 
 
 becaufe 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 285 
 
 becaufe we are commanded to pay the highefl inftances 
 of love to our worfl enemies; we are to love, and blefs, 
 and pray for thofe that moft injurioufly treat us. This 
 therefore is demonltration, that the merit of perfons is 
 not the reafon on which our obligation to love them is 
 founded. 
 
 Let us farther confider, what that love is, which we 
 owe to our neighbour. It is to love him as ourfelves, 
 that is, to have all thofe fentiments towards him, which 
 we have towards ourfelves ; to wiih him every thing 
 that we may lawfully wifli to ourfelves •, to be glad 
 of every good, and forry for every evil that happens to 
 him: and'be ready to do him all fuch ads of kindnefs, 
 as we are always ready to do ourfelves. 
 
 This love therefore, you fee, is nothing elfe but a love 
 of benevolence ; it requires nothing of us, but fuch good 
 wilhcs, tender affedlions, and fuch acls of kindnefs, as 
 we fliew to ourfelves. 
 
 This is all the love that we owe to the beft of men; 
 and we are never to want any degree of this love to the 
 worftj or moft unreafonable man in the world. 
 
 Now what is the reafon why we are to love every 
 man in this manner ? It is anfwered that our obligations 
 to love all m.en in this manner, is founded upon many 
 reafons. 
 
 Firit, Upon a reafon of equity: for if it is jufl, to love 
 ourfelves in this manner, it mud be unjufl to deny any 
 degree of this love to others, becaufe every man is fo 
 exa£ily of the fame nature, and in the fame condition 
 as ourfelves. 
 
 If therefore your own crimes and follies do not leflen 
 your obligation to feek your own good, and wifh well to 
 yourfelf; neither do the follies and crimes of ycur neigh- 
 bour lefien your obligation to wifli and leek the good of 
 your neighbour. 
 
 Another reafon for this love is founded in the autho- 
 rity of God, who has commanded us to love every man 
 as yourfelf. 
 
 Thirdly, We are obliged to this love, in imitation of 
 God's goodnefs, that we may be children of our Father, 
 which is in Heaven, who willeth the happinefs of all his 
 
 creatures^ 
 
f- 
 
 2S6 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 creatures, and maketh his Suii to rife on the evil, and o» 
 the good. 
 
 Fourthly, Our redemption by Jefus Chrift, ealleth us 
 to the exercife of this love, vsrho came from heaven, 
 and laid down his hfe, out of love to the v^hole finful 
 world- 
 
 Fifthly, By the command of our Lord and Saviour, 
 who has required u& to love one another, as he has 
 loved us. 
 
 Thefe are the great perpetual reafons, on which 
 our obligation to love all mankind as ourielves, is^ 
 founded. 
 
 Thefe reafons never vary, or change, they always 
 continue in tlieir full force j and therefore equally o— 
 blige at all times, and in regard to all perfons. 
 
 God loves us, not becauie we are wife, and good, and 
 holy, jut in piry to us, becaufe we want thishappinefs :: 
 He loves us, in order to make us good. Our love there- 
 fore mud take this courfej. not looking for, or requiring; 
 the merit of our brethren, but pitying their dilorders 
 and wilhing them all the good that they want, and are 
 capable of receiving. 
 
 It appears now plainly from what has been fdid, that 
 the love v/hich v/e owe to our brethren, is only a^ 
 love of benevolence. Secondly, That this duty of be- 
 nevolence is founded upon fuch reafons as never va- 
 ry or change *, fuch as have no dependence upon the 
 qualities of perfons. From whence it. follows, that it 
 is the fame great fin, to want this love to a bad man, as 
 to want it to a gcod man. Becaufe 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 confequently it is the 
 fame fin. 
 
 When therefore you let loofe an ill natured paf- 
 fion, either of hatred or contempt towards (as you 
 fuppofe) an ill man, confider what you would think 
 of another, that was doing the fame towards a good, 
 man, and be alTured that you are committing the fame 
 fin. 
 
 You v/ill perhaps fay, How is it poffible to love a 
 good and a bad man in the fame degree? 
 
 lull 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFe'. 287 
 
 J ud as it is poffible to be as juft and faithful to a good 
 man, as to an evil man. Now are you in any difficulty 
 about performing jultice and faithfulnefs to a bad man? 
 Are you in any doubts, v/hether you need be fo juft and 
 faithful to him, as you need be to a good man ? Now 
 why is it, that you are in no doubt about it ? It is be- 
 caufe you know that juftice and faithfulnefs are found- 
 ed upon reafons that never vary or change, that have 
 no dependance upon the merits of men, but are founded 
 in the nature of things, in the laws of God, and there- 
 fore are to be obferved with unequal exadlnefs towards 
 good and bad men. 
 
 Now do but think thus juftly of charity, or love to 
 your neighbour, that it is founded upon reafons, that 
 vary not, that have no dependance upon the merits of 
 men, and then you will find it as poffible to perform the 
 fame exa£l charity, as the fame exadt juftice to all men, 
 whether good or bad. 
 
 You will perhaps farther afk, if you are not to have 
 a particular efteeni, veneration and reverence for good 
 men? it is anfwered ; Yes. But then this high e- 
 fteem and veneration, is a thing very different from 
 that love of benevolence which we owe to our neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 The high efteem and veneration which you have for 
 a man of eminent piety, is no a6t of charity to him ; 
 it is not of pity and compaffion that you fo reverence 
 him, but it is rather an act of charity to yourfelf, that 
 fuch eiteem 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 ; but then this is only the 
 loving of virtAie, wherever we fee it. And we do not 
 love virtue with the love of benevolence, as any thing 
 that wants our good willies, but as fomething that is 
 our proper good. 
 
 The whole of the matter is this. The a6lions which 
 
 you are to love, efteem and admire, are the actions of 
 
 good and pious men ; but the perlons to whom you 
 
 are to do all the good you can, in all forts of kindnefs 
 
 'and compi-iflion, are all perfons whether good or bad. 
 
 This diftinttion betwixt love of benevoitnce, and e- 
 
 fteem 
 
288 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 fteem or veneration, is very plain and obvious. And you 
 may perhaps (till better fee the plainnefs and neceffity of 
 it, by this following inftance.- 
 
 No rnan is to have a high efteem, or honour, for his 
 own accomplifhments, or behaviour j yet every man is 
 to love himfelf, that is, to wifh well to himfelf; therefore 
 this diilin^tion betwixt love and efteem, is not only 
 plain, but very necelTary to be obferved. 
 
 Again : if you think it hardly poffible to diflike the 
 aflions of unreafonable men, and yet have a true love 
 for them : Confider this with relation to yourfelf. 
 
 It is very poffible, I hope, for you not only to dif- 
 like, but to deteil and abhor a great many of your own 
 paft actions, and to accufe yourfelf with great folly 
 for them. But do you then lofe any of thofe tender 
 fentirnents towards yourfelf, which you ufed to have ? 
 Do you then ceafe to wifh well to yourfelf ? Is not 
 the love of yourfelf as ftrong then, as at any other 
 time ? 
 
 Now what is thus poffible with relation to ourfelves, 
 is in the fame manner poffiible with relation to others. 
 We may have the highcft good wiffies towards them, 
 defiring for them every good that we defire for our- 
 felves, and yet at the fame time diflike their way of life. 
 To proceed; all that love which we may juitly have 
 for ourfelves, we are in ftri6l jullice obliged to exercife 
 towards all other men; and we offend againfl the great 
 law of our nature, and the greatell laws of God, when 
 our tempers towards others are different from thofe 
 which we have towards ourfelves. 
 
 Now that felf-love which is juft and reafonable, keeps 
 us conltantly tender, compaffionate, and well affe£led 
 towards ourfelves; if therefore you do not feel thefe 
 kind difpofitions towards all other people, you may be 
 affiired, that you are not in that ftate of charity, wdiich 
 is the very life and foul of chriftian piety. 
 
 You know how it hurts you to be made the jeft and 
 ridicule of other people; how it grieves you to be robbed 
 of your reputation, and deprived of the favourable opi- 
 nion of your neighbours: If therefore you expofe others 
 to fcorn and contempt in any degree ; if it pleafes you to 
 fee or hear of their frailties or infirmities , or if you are 
 
 only 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 289 
 
 only loth to conceal their faults, you are fo f:ir from 
 loving fuch people as yourfelf, that you may be juftly 
 fuppofed to have as much hatred for them, as you have 
 love for yourfeli. For fuch tempers 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 yourfelf, 
 becaufe you are tender of every thing that concerns 
 you : fo it is as certain a fign that you hate your neigh- 
 bour, when you are pleafed with any thing that hurts 
 him. 
 
 But now, if the want of a true and exa6l charity be 
 fo great a want, that, as St Paul faith, it renders our. 
 greateft virtues but empty founds, and tinkling cymbals, 
 how highly does it concern us to ftudy every art, and 
 pra^life every method of raifing our fouls to this ftate 
 of charity ? It is for this reafon, that you are here de- 
 fired, not to let this hour of prayer pals, without a full 
 and folemn fupplication to God, for all the initances 
 of an univerfal love and benevolence to all mankind. 
 
 Such daily conftant devotion, being the only like- 
 ly means of preferving you in fuch a Itate of love, 
 as is necefiary to prove you to be a true follower of 
 Jefus Chrift. 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 Of the necejjity and henefit of Inter ccjjion^ confidered as an 
 exercife cf univcfal love. How all orders cf me7i arc 
 to pray arid intercede •with God for one another. Honv 
 naturally fuch interceffion amends and reforms the hearts 
 fthoje that ufe it, 
 
 ^npHAT Interceffion is a great and neceffary part of 
 X. Chriflian Devotion, is very evident from Scrip- 
 ture. 
 
 The fn-ft followers of Chrifl: feem to fupport all their 
 love, and to maintain all their intercourfe and corre- 
 fpoadence, by mutual prayers for one another. 
 
290 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 St Paul, whether he writes to churches, or particu^* 
 lar perfons, fliews his intercelTion to be perpetual for 
 them, that they are the conftant fubject of his prayers. 
 
 Thus to the Phiilipians, / t/jank my God upm every re-' 
 memhrance of you. Ahuays in ever\ prayer of mine for you 
 ally making reqiicfl iviih joy. PhiL i. 4, 5, Here we fee, 
 not only a continual intercelTion, but performed with ^o 
 much gladnefs as (hev/s that it was an exercife of love, 
 in which he highly rejoiced. 
 
 His devotion had alfo the fame care for particular per- 
 fonsj as appears by the following pallage. 1 thank jny 
 Gody luhcm Iferve f-om my forefathers y ivith >a pure con- 
 Jciencey thaty ivith out ceaftngy I have reme^nhrance of thee 
 in my prayers night and day^ 2 Tini. i. ^.. How holy 
 an acquaintance and friendihip was this, how worthy 
 of perfons that were raifed above the world, and re- 
 lated to one another, as new members of a kingdom of 
 heaven ! 
 
 Apoftles and great faints did not only tlius benefit and 
 blefs particular churches, and private perfons ; but they 
 themfeives alfo received graces from God by the prayers 
 of others. Thus .faith St Paul to the Corinthians, Tou 
 alfo helping together by prayer for us, that for th^gift be/foiu-^ 
 ed upon us by the means of many perfons y thanks may be gir * 
 r^en by ma?iy on our behafy 2 Cor. i. 11. 
 
 This was the ancient friendHiip of Chriftians, miiting 
 and cementing their hearts, not by worldly confidera- 
 tions, of human paffions, but by the mutual communi- 
 cations of fpiritual blelTmgs, by prayers and thankfgi- 
 <vings to God for one another. 
 
 •It was this holy intercelfion that raifed Chriftians to 
 -fuch a ftate of mutual love, as far exceeded all that had 
 been praifed and admired in human friendfhip. And 
 when the l^ime fpirit or intercelhon is again in the world, 
 when ChrilUanity has the fame power over the hearts 
 of people, that it then had, this holy friendfliip will be 
 again in fafliion, and Chriftians will be again the wonder 
 of the world, for that exceeding love which they bear to 
 one another. 
 
 For a frequent IntercelTion with God, earneftly be- 
 feeching him to forgive the fins of all mankind, to blefs 
 them with his providence, enlighten them with his 
 
 .Spirit, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 291 
 
 Spirit, and bring them to everlafting happinefs, is the 
 (livineft exercife that the heart of man can be engaged 
 in. 
 
 Be daily therefore on your knees in a folemn denbe- 
 rate performance of this devotion, praying for others ia 
 forms, with fuch length and importunity, and earneft- 
 nefs, as you ufe for yourfelf ; and you will find all little 
 ill-natured paffions die away, your heart grow great and 
 generous, delighting in the common happinefs of others, 
 as you ufed only to delight in your own. 
 
 For he that daily prays to God, that all men may be 
 happy in heaven, takes the likelieft way to make him 
 wifti for, and delight in their happinefs on earth. And 
 it is hardly pofTible for you to befeech and intreat God 
 to make any one happy in the higheft enjoyments of his 
 glory to all eternity, and yet be troubled to fee him enjoy 
 the much fmaller gifts of God in this fhort and low ftate 
 of human life. For how ftrange and unnatural would 
 it be to pray to God to grant health and a longer life to 
 a fick man, and at the fame time to envy him the poor 
 pleafures of agreeable medicines ? Yet this would be no 
 more ilrange, or unnatural, than to pray to God that 
 your neighbour rr^ay enjoy the higheit degrees of his 
 mercy and favour, and yet at the fame time envy him 
 the little credit and figure he hath amongfl his fellow- 
 creatures. 
 
 Vv'hen therefore you have once habituated your heart 
 to a ferious performance of this holy intercelTion, you 
 iiavedone a great deal to render it incapable of fpite 
 and envy, and to make it naturally deliglit in the happi- 
 nefs of ail mankind. This is the natural effect of a ge- 
 .neral interceflion for all mankind. But the greatelt be- 
 nefits of it are then received, when it defcends to fuch 
 particular inftances as our Hate and condition in life 
 more particularly require of us. 
 
 Though we are to treat all mankind as neighbours and 
 brethren, as any occafion offers •, yet as we can only live 
 in the actual fociety of a few, and are by our ftate and 
 .condition more particularly related to fome than others; 
 fo when our interceffion is made an exercife of love and 
 *care for thofe amongft whom our lot is fallen, or who 
 belong to us in a nearer relation, it then becomes the 
 
 greatelt 
 
■292 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 greateft benefit to ourfelves, and produces itsbeft efFe£l:s 
 in 9ur own hearts. If therefore you fhould always 
 change and alter your interceflions accordingas the needs 
 and neceffities of your neighbours or acquaintance feem 
 to require ; befeeching God to deliver them from fuch 
 or fuch particular evils, or to grant them this or that par- 
 ticular gift, or bleffing ; fuch interceflions, befides the 
 great charity of them, would have a mighty efFedt 
 upon your own heart, as difpofmg you to every other 
 good office, and to the exercife of every other virtue 
 towards fuch perfcns, as have fo often a place in your 
 prayers. 
 
 This would make it pleafant to you to be courteous, 
 civil and condefcendingto ail 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 compaf- 
 fionate in your prayers. For there is nothing that makes 
 us love a man fo much, as praying for him; and when 
 you can once do this fincerely for any man, you have 
 fitted your foul for the performance of every thing that 
 is kind and civil towards him. This will fill your heart 
 with a generofity and tendernefs, that will give you a 
 better and fweeter behaviour, than any thing that is call- 
 ed fine breeding and good manners. 
 
 By confidering yourfelf as an advocate with God for 
 your neighbours and acquaintance, you would never find 
 it hard to be at peace with them yourfelf. It would be 
 eafy to you to bear with, and forgive thofe, for whom 
 you particularly implored the divine mercy and forgive- 
 iiefs. 
 
 Such prayers as thefeamongftneiglibcurs and acquaint- 
 ance, would unite them to one another in the ftrongefl 
 bonds of love and tendernefs. It would exalt and enno- 
 ble their fouls, and teach them to confider one another 
 in a higher ilate, as members of a fpiritual fociety, that 
 are created for the enjoyment of the com.mon blelRngs 
 of God, and fellow-heirs of the fame future glory. And 
 by being thus defirous, that every one fliould have their 
 full fliare of the favours of God, they would not only 
 be content, but glad to fee one another happy in the lit- 
 tle enjoyments of this tranfitory life. Thefe would be 
 the natural elfe(5ls of fuch an interccflion amongft people 
 
 of 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 293 
 
 of the fame town or neighbourhood, or that were ac- 
 quainted with one another's flate and condition. 
 
 Ouranius is a holy priefl, full of the fpirlt of the gc- 
 fpel, watching, labouring, and praying for a poor coun- 
 try village. Every foul in it is as dear to him as him- 
 felf; and he loves them all, as he loves himfelf ^ becaufe 
 he prays for them all, as often as he prays for himfelf. 
 If his whole life is one continual exercife of great zeal 
 and labour, hardly ever fatisfied with any degrees of care 
 and watchfulnefs, it is becaufe he has learned, the great 
 value of fouls, by fo often appearing before God, as an 
 interceflbr for them. 
 
 He never thinks he can love, or do enough for his 
 flock; becaufe he never confiders them in any other view, 
 than as fo many perfons, that by receiving the gifts and 
 graces of God, are to become his hope, his joy, and his 
 crown of rejoicing. He goes about his Parifh, and vi« 
 fits everybody in it •, but vifits in the fame fpirit of pi- 
 ety that he preaches to them ; he vifits them to encou- 
 rage their virtues, to afTiil them with his advice and 
 counfel, to difcover their manner of life, and to know 
 the ftate of their fouls, that he may interceed with God 
 for them, according to their particular necelTities. 
 
 When Ouranius firft entered into holy orders, he had 
 a haughtinefs in his temper, a great contempt and difre- 
 gard for all foolifli and unreafonable people ; but he has 
 prayed away this fpirit, and has now the greatelt tender- 
 jiefs for the moft obftinate fmners ; becaufe he is always 
 hoping, that God will fooner or later hear thofe prayers 
 that he makes for their repentance. The rudenefs, ill- 
 nature, or perverfe behaviour of any of his flock, ufed 
 at firft to betray him into impatience ; but it now raifes 
 no other pafFion in him, than a defire of being upon 
 his knees in prayer to God for them. 
 
 Thus have his prayers for others, altered and amended 
 the ftate of his own heart. It would ftraiigely delight 
 you to fee with what fpirit he converfes, with what ten- 
 dernefs he reproves, with what affedlionhe exhorts, and 
 "with what vigour he preaches •, and it is all owing to 
 this, becaufe he reproves, exhorts, and preaches to thofe 
 for whom he firft prays to God. This devotion, fof- 
 tens his heart, enlightens his mind, fweetens his tem- 
 
 N per. 
 
294: A sEPaous call to a 
 
 per, and makes every thing that comes from -him, In- 
 {Irufcive, " amiable and affecting. At his firft coming to 
 this httle viihige, it was as difagreeable to him as a prin 
 fon, and every day feemed 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 notes upon Homer and 
 Plautus, 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 battles. This was his polite, or I 
 may rather fay; poor ignorant turn of mind, before de- 
 votion had got the government of his heart. But now 
 his days are fo far from being tedious, or his parifh too 
 great a retirement, that he now only wants more time 
 to do that variety of good which his foul thirfts after. 
 The folitude of his little parifh is become matter of great 
 comfort to him, becaufe 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 pooreil kind of people. He is now 
 daily watching over the weak and infirm, humbling him- 
 felf to perverfe, rude, ignorant people wherever he can 
 find them ; and is fo far from defiring to be confidered as 
 a gentleman, that he defires to be ufed as the fervant of 
 all J and in the fpirit of his Lord and Mafter girds him- 
 ielf, and is glad to kneel down and wafh any of their 
 feet. He now thinks the poorefi: creature in his parifh 
 good enough, and great enough, to deferve the hum- 
 blell attendances, the kindelt friendfliips, the tendered 
 offices, he can poflibly fliew 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 hea- 
 ven. Ail thefe noble thoughts and divine fentiments 
 are the efFc61:s of his great devotion; he prefents every 
 one fo often before God in Ins prayers, that he never 
 tliinks he can efteem, reverence, or ferve thofe enough, 
 for whom he implores fo many mercies from God. 
 
 Ouranius is mightily affected with this paflage of holy^ 
 fcripture, ihe effe£iual fervent prater of a righteous njan «- 
 
 vaileth 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 295 
 
 v^iieth miichy James v. 16. This makes him pra6llce all. 
 the arts of holy Uving, and afpire after every inllance of 
 piety and righteoufnefs, that his prayers for his flock 
 may have their full force, and avail much with God. 
 For this reafon he has fold a fmall eftate tliat he had, and 
 has ere6i;ed a charitable retirement for ancient, poor peo- 
 ple to live in prayer and piety, that his prayers being 
 aflifted by fuch good vi^orks, may pierce the clouds, and 
 bring down bleflings upon thofe fouls committed to his 
 care. 
 
 Ouranius reads how God himfelf faid unto Afcimelecli 
 concerning Abraham, He is a prophet : he JJj all pray for 
 theey and thgujlmlt live. Gen. xx. 7. ,And again, how 
 he faid of Job: And myfervant Job Jhall proy for you ; 
 for him luill I except. Job xlii. 8. 
 
 From thefe paflages, Ouranius juftly concludes, that 
 the prayers of men eminent for holinefs of life, have an 
 extraordinary power with God; that he grants toother 
 people fuch pardons, reliefs and bleffings, through their 
 prayers, as would not be granted to men of lefs piety 
 and perfection. This make Ouranius exceeding ftudious 
 of Chriftian perfeClion, fearching after every grace and 
 holy temper, purifying his heart ajl manner of wjiys, 
 fearful of every error and defeat in his life, left his pray- 
 ers for his flock fhould be lefs availing with God, 
 through his own defects in holinefs. 
 
 This makes him careful of every temper of his heart, 
 give alms of all that he hath, watch, and fad, and mor- 
 tify, and live according to the ftri6left rules of tem- 
 perance, meeknefs and humility, that he may be in 
 fome degree like an Abraham, or a Job, in his parifli, 
 and make fuch prayers for them, as God will hear and 
 accept. 
 
 Thefe are the happy effe6ls, which a devout intercef- 
 fion hath produced in the life of Ouranius. And if o- 
 ther people in their feveral Rations, w^ere to imitate this 
 example, in fuch a manner as fuited their particular 
 {late of life, they Vv'ould certainly find the fame happy 
 effects from it. 
 
 If Mafters, for inftance, were thus to remember their 
 fervants in their prayers, l3efeeching God to blefs them, 
 and fuiting their petitions to the particular wants and 
 
 N 2 ne 
 
906 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 neceflities of their fervatits ; letting no day pafs, with- 
 out a full performance of this part of devotion ; the be- 
 nefit would be as great to themielves, as to their fervants. 
 No way fo likely as this, to infpire them with a true 
 fenfe of that power which they have in their hands, to 
 jnake them delight in doing good, and becoming exem- 
 plary in all the parts of a wife and good mailer. The 
 prefenting their fervants fo often before God, as equally 
 related to God, and entitled to the fame expectations 
 of heaven, as themfelves, would naturally incline them 
 to treat them, not only with fuch humanity, as become 
 fellow-creatures, but with fuch tendernefs, care, and 
 generofit}^, as became fellow-heirs of the fame glory. 
 This devotion would make mafters inclined to every 
 thing that was good towards their fervants ; be watchful 
 of their behaviour, and as ready to require of them an 
 exa61: obfervance of the duties of chriftianity, as of the 
 duties of their fervants. This would teach them to con- 
 fider their fervants as God's fervants, to defire their per- 
 fection, to do nothing before them that might corrupt 
 their minds, to impofe no bufinefs upon them that fhould 
 leiten their fenfe of religion, or hinder them from their 
 full fhare of devotion, both public and private. This 
 praying for them, would make them as glad to fee their 
 iervants eminent in piety as themfelves, and contrive 
 that they ihould have all the opportunities and encou- 
 ragements, both to know and perform all the duties of 
 the chriftian life. How natural would it be for fuch a 
 mafter, to perform every part of family-devotion •, to 
 have conftant prayers ; to excufe no one's abfence from 
 them ; to have the Scriptures, and books of piety, often 
 read amongft his fervants ; to take all opportunities of 
 inftruClingthem, of raifing their minds to God, and teach- 
 ing them to do all their buiinefs, as a fervice to God, and 
 upon the hopes and expectations of another life ? How 
 natural would it be for fuch a one to pity their weaknefs 
 and ignorance, to bear with the dulnefs of their under- 
 itandings, or the perverfenefs of their tempers ; to reprove 
 them with tendernefs, exhort them with affection, as 
 hoping that God would hear his prayers for themP How 
 impolTible would it be for a mafter, that thus interceed- 
 cd w^ith God for his fervants, to ufe any unkind threat- 
 
 nings 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 297 
 
 nings towards them, to damn and curfe them as dogs 
 and fcoundrels, and treat them only as the dregs of the 
 creation. This devotion would give them another fpirit, 
 and make them confider how to make proper returns o£ 
 care, kindnefs and protection to thofe, who had fpent 
 their ftrength and time in fervice and attendance upon 
 them. 
 
 Now if gentlemen think it fo low an employment for 
 their ftate and dignity, to exercife fuch a devotion as 
 this for their fervants, let them confider how far they 
 are from the fpirit of Chrift, who made himfelf not only 
 an interceflbr, but a facrifice for the whole race of fmful 
 mankind. 
 
 Let them confider how miferable their greatnefs 
 would be, if the Son of God fliould think it as much 
 below him to pray for them, as they do to pray for their 
 fellow-creatures. Let them confider how far they are 
 from that fpirit, which prays for its moil unjuft ene- 
 mies, if they have not kindnefs enough to pray for 
 thofe, by whofe labours and fervice they live in eafe 
 themfelves. 
 
 Again ; if parents fliould thus make themfelves advo- 
 cates and interceflbrs with God for their children, con- 
 ftantly applying to heaven in behalf of them, nothing 
 would be more likr ly, not only to blefs their children, 
 but alfo to form and difpofe their own minds to the 
 performance of every thing that was excellent and praife- 
 worthy. I do not fuppofe, but that the generality o£ 
 parents remember their children in their prayers, and 
 call upon God to blefs them. But the thing here in- 
 tended, is not a general remembrance of ihem, but a re- 
 gular method of recommending all their particular needs 
 and neceflities unto God -, and of praying for every fuch 
 particular grace and virtue for them, as their itate and 
 condition of life fliall feem to require. 
 
 The (late of parents is a holy ftate, in fome degree 
 like that of the prieithood, and calls upon them to blefs 
 their children with their prayers and facrifices to God. 
 Thus it was that holy Job watched over, and bleiTed his 
 children, \\q fanEl'^fied thewy he roje up early in ike morning 
 0tid offered hurnt-offeringSy according to the number of them 
 al/i job i. 5. 
 
 N 3 If 
 
298 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 If parents therefore, confidering themfelves in this 
 light, fhould be daily calling upon God in a folemn, de- 
 liberate manner, altering and extending their intercef- 
 fions, as the Itate and growth of their children required, 
 fuch devotion would have a mighty influence upon the 
 reft of their lives ; it would make them very circumfpedt 
 in the government of themfelves ; prudent and careful 
 of every thing they faid or did, left their example fhould 
 hinder that, which they fo conftantly defired in their 
 prayers. If a father was daily making particular pray- 
 ers to God, that he would pleafe to infpire his children 
 with true piety, great humility, and ftri6l temperance, 
 what could be more likely to make'^the father himfelf 
 become exemplary in thefe virtues ? How naturally 
 would he grow afliamed of wanting fuch virtues, 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 conlidered himfelf as an interceflbr 
 with God for his children, to blefs tliem with his pray- 
 ers, what more likely means to make him afpire after e- 
 very degree of holinefs that he might thereby be fitter 
 to obtain bleflings from heaven for them ? How would 
 fuch thoughts make him avoid every thing that was fin- 
 ful and difpleafmg to God, left when he prayed for his 
 children, God Ihould reject his prayers ? How tender- 
 ly, how religioufly, would fuch a father converfe with 
 his children, whom he confidered as his little fpiritual 
 flock, whofe virtues he was to form by his example, en- 
 courage by his authority, nourifti by his counfel, and 
 profper by his prayers to God for them ? 
 
 How fearful would he be of all greedy and unjuffc 
 ways of raifmg theirfortune, of bringing them up in pride 
 and indulgence, or of making them too fond of the 
 world, left he fliould thereby render them incapable of 
 thofe graces which he was fo often befeeching God to 
 grant them. 
 
 Thefe being the plain, natural, happy eiFefts of this 
 interceflion, all parents, I hope, who have the real wel- 
 fare of their children at heart, who defire to be their true 
 friends and benefadlors, and to live amongft them in the 
 ipirit of wifdom and piety, will not negle(^ fo great a 
 
 meana 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 299 
 
 means, both of raifing their own virtue, and doing an e- 
 ternal good to thofe, who are fo near and dear to them, 
 by the llrongefl: ties of nature. 
 
 Lnftly^ If allpeople, when they feel the firfl 'approaches 
 of refentment, envy, or contempt, towards others^ or if 
 in all little difagreements, and mifunderftandings what- 
 ever, they Ihould, inftead of indulging their minds with 
 little low reflections, have recourfe at fuch times to a 
 more particular and extraordinary interceffion' with God, 
 for fuch perfons as had raifed their envy, refentment, or 
 difcontent j this would be a certain way to prevent the 
 growth of all uncharitable tempers. If you was alfo to 
 form your prayer, or interceffion at that time, to the 
 greateil degree of contrariety to that temper which you 
 was rhen in, it would be an excellent means of rai fing 
 your heart to the greateft ftate of perfection. As for 
 inflance : when at any time you find in your heart mo- 
 tions of envy towards any perfon, whether on account 
 of his riches, power, reputation, learning, or advance- 
 ment, if you fliould immediately betake yourfelf at that 
 time to your prayers, and pray to God to blefs and pro- 
 fper him in tliat very thing, which raifed your envy j if 
 youfhould exprefs and repeat yourpetitions in the (Irong- 
 eft terms, befeeching God to grant him all the happinefs 
 from the enjoyment of it, that can poffibly be received, 
 you would foon find it to be the bed antidote in the 
 world, to expel the venom of that poifonous paffion. 
 This would be fuch a triumph over yourfelf, would fo 
 humble and reduce your heart into obedience and order, 
 that the devil would even be afraid of tempting you a- 
 gain in the fame manner, when he faw the temptation 
 turned into fo great a means of amending and reforming 
 the ftate of your heart. 
 
 Again J If in any little difference or mifunderftandings 
 that you happened to have at any time with a rela- 
 tion, a neighbour, or any one elfe, you fhould then pray 
 for them in a more extraordinary manner, than you e^i^r 
 did before, befeeching God to give them every grace, 
 and blelTing, and happinefs you can think of, you v/ould 
 have taken the fpeedieft method that can be, of recon- 
 ciling ail differences, and clearing up all mifunderftand- 
 ings. You would then think nothing too great to be 
 
 N 4? for- 
 
300 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 forgiven, ftay for no condefcenfions, 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 
 Chriitian devotion j it would remove all peevifli • paf- 
 iions, foften your heart into the moft tender conde- 
 fcenfions, and be the bed arbitrator of all differences 
 that happened between you and any of your acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 The greatefl refentments amongfl: friends and neigh- 
 bours moil often arife from poor puncSlillio's and little 
 miftakes in condu^l. A certain fign that their friendlliip 
 is merely human, not founded upon religious co fidera- 
 tions, or fupported by fuch a courfe of mutual prayer 
 for one another, as the firft Chriftians ufed. For fuch 
 devotion muft neceffarily either deitroy fuch tempers, or 
 be itfelf dellroyed by them. You cannot poffibly have 
 any ill temper, or fhew any unkind behaviour to a man 
 for whofe welfare you are fo much concerned, as to be 
 his advocate with God in private. 
 
 . Hence we may learn the odious nature and exceeding 
 guilt of fpite, hatred, contempt, and angry paflions ; 
 they are not to be confidered as defeats in good nature 
 and fweetnefs of temper, not as failings in civility of 
 manners or good breeding, but as fuch bafe tempers, as 
 are entirely inconfillent with the charity of intercelTion. 
 You think it a fmall matter to be peevifh or ill-natured 
 to fuch or iuch a man ; but you (hould conlider, whe- 
 ther it be a fmall matter to do that, which you could 
 not do, if you had but fomuch charity as to be able to 
 recommend him to God in your prayers. You think 
 it a fmall matter to ridicule one man, and defpife ano- 
 ther ; but you Ihould confider, whether it be a fmall 
 matter to want that charity towards thefe people, which 
 chriftians are not allowed to want towards their mofb 
 inveterate enemies. For be but as cliaritable to thefe 
 men, do but blefs 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 impofli- 
 bie for you to treat them with any degree of fcorn or 
 contempt. For you cannot poffibly defpife and ridicule 
 
 that 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 301 
 
 that man whom your private prayers recommend to the 
 love and favour of God. 
 
 When you defpife and ridicule a man, it is with no 
 other end but to make him ridiculous and contemptible 
 in the eyes of other men, and in order to prevent their 
 efteem of him. How therefore c^n it be poffible for 
 you fincerely to befeech God to blefs that man with the 
 honour of his love and favour, whom you delire men ta 
 treat as worthy of their contempt ? 
 
 Could you out of love to a neighbour, defire your 
 prince to honour him with every mark of efteem and fa-» 
 vour, and yet at the fame time expofe him to the fcorn 
 and derifion of your own fervants ? Yet this is as pof- 
 fible, as to expofe that man to the fcorn and contempt of 
 your fellow-creatures, whom you recommend to the fa- 
 vour of God in your fecret prayers. 
 
 From thefe con fi derations we may plainly difcover 
 the reafon;.blenefs and juftice of this do£trine of the 
 Gofpel, Wkofoever fiall Ja^ itnto his brother y Racha, JJjall 
 be m danger y of the council ,- but irhcfoever JJjall fay^ Thou 
 fooljjball be in danger of hell fir e^ Matt. v. 22. We are 
 not, I fuppofe, to believe that every hafty word, or un- 
 reafonable expreffion that flips from us by chance, or 
 furprize, and is contrary to our intention and tempers, 
 is the great fm here fignified. But he that fays, Racha, 
 or Thou fool, muft chiefly mean him that allows himfelf 
 in deliberate, defigned afts of fcorn and contempt to- 
 wards his brother, and in that temper fpeaks to him, and 
 of him, in reproachful language. 
 
 Now fmce it appears, that thefe tempers are at the 
 bottom the moft rank uncharitablenefs, fincc no one can 
 be guilty of them, but becaufe he has not charity enough 
 to pray to God for his brother •, it cannot be thought 
 hard or rigorous juftice, that fuch tempers fhould en- 
 danger the falvation of Chriftians. For who would 
 think it hard> that a Chriftian cannot obtain the favour 
 of God for himfelf, unlefs he reverence and efteem his 
 brother Chriftian, as one that bears the image of God, 
 as one for whom Chrift died, as a member of Chrift's 
 body, as a member of that holy fociety on earth, which 
 is in union with that triumphant church in heaven ? Yet 
 all thefe gonflderations muft be forgot, all thefe glorious 
 
 N 5 . P^r 
 
502 A SERIOUS CALL TO A ^ 
 
 privileges difregarded, before man can treat him that 
 has them, as an objecl of fcorn and contempt. So that 
 to fcora or defpife a brother, or, as our blelied Lord fays 
 to call him Racha or Fool, muft be looked upon, as a- 
 mongilthe molt odious, unjuil, and guilty tempers, that 
 can be fupported in the heart of a Chriftian, andjuftly 
 excluding him from all his hopes in the falvation of Je- 
 fus Chrift. For to defpife one for whom Chrift died, is 
 to be as contrary to Chrift, as he that defpifes any thing 
 that Chrifl has faid, or done. 
 
 If a Chriftian that had lived with the holy Virgin Ma- 
 ry, fnould, after the death of our Lord, have taken any 
 occafion to treat her with contempt, you would certain- 
 ly fay, that he had loft his piety towards our blefled 
 Lord. For a true reverence for Chrift muft have forced 
 him to treat her with refpe£l:, 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 
 blefted Lord, muft have obliged all thofe that lived and 
 converfed with her, to treat her with great refpe£l and 
 efteem. Might not a man have juftly dreaded the ven- 
 geance of God upon him, for any fcorn and contempt 
 that he had fnewn to her ? 
 
 Now if this be plain and obvious reafoning, if a con- 
 tempt offered to the Virgin Mary muft have been inter- 
 preted a contempt of Chrift, becaufe cf her near rela- 
 tion to him; then let the fame reafon fliew you the great 
 impiety of defpifing any brother. You cannot defpife 
 a brother, without defpifing him that ftands in a high re- 
 lation to God, to his Son Jefus Chrift, and to the Holy 
 Trinity. 
 
 You would certainly think it a mighty impiety to treat 
 a writing with great contempt, that had been written by 
 the finger of God ; and can you think it a lefs impiety to 
 contemn and villify a brother, who is not only the work- 
 manfiiip, but the image of God ? You would juftly think 
 it great prophanenefs to contemn and trample upon an 
 Altar, becaufe it was appropriated to holy ufes, and had 
 had the body of Chrift fo often placed upon it j and can 
 you fuppofe it to be lefs prophaneuefs to fcorn and tram- 
 ple upon a brother^ who fo belongs to God, tkat his very 
 
 body 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 303 
 
 body IS to be confidered as the temple of the Holy Ghojly 
 1 Cor. vi. I 5. 
 
 Had you defpifed and ill-treated the Virgin Mary, you 
 had been chargeable with the impiety of defpifing her, 
 of whom Chriil was born. And if you fcorn and de- 
 fpife a brother you are chargeable with the impiety of 
 defpifing him, for whomChrid laid down his life. And 
 now if this fcornful temper is founded upon a difre- 
 gard of all chefe relations, which every Chriflian bears 
 to God, and Chrift, and the Holy Trinity, can you won- 
 der, or think it hard, that a Chriflian who thus allows 
 himfelf to defpife a brother ihould be in danger of hell 
 fire ? 
 
 Secondly i It mufl here be obferved, that though in 
 ' thefe words, Whofoever ihall fay, Thou fool, &c. the 
 great (in there contemned is an allowed temper of de- 
 fpifing a brother ; yet we are alfo to believe, that all 
 hafly expreihons, and words of contempt, though 
 f2:)oken by furprize or accident, are by this text con- 
 demned as great fins, and notorious breaches of Chrif- 
 tian charity. 
 
 They proceed from great want of Chriflian love and 
 meeknefs, and call for great repentance. They are only 
 little fins, when compared with habits and fettled tem- 
 pers of treating a brother defpitefully, and fall as direct- 
 ly under the condemnation of this text, as the grolTeft 
 habits of uncharitabienefs. And the reafon why we are 
 always to apprehend great guilt, and call ourfeives to a 
 llri6l repentance for thefe hafly exprefTions of anger and 
 contempt, is this ; becaufe they feldom are what they 
 feem to be, that is, mere ftarts of temper, that are occa- 
 fioned purely by furprize or accident ;" but are much 
 more our own proper a6l?, than we generally imagine. 
 
 A man fays a great many bitter things •, he prefently 
 forgives himfelf, becaufe he fappofes it was only the fud- 
 dennefs of the occafion, or fomething accidental, that 
 carried him fo far beyond himfelf. Bu: :;;? fhould con- 
 fider, that perhaps the accident, or furprize, was not the 
 occafion of his angry expreflions, but might only be the 
 occafion of his angry temper fhewing itfelf. Now as 
 this is, generally ipeaking, the cafe, as all haughty, angry 
 language generally proceeds from fome fecret habits of 
 
 N 6 pride 
 
304? A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 pride in the heart; fo people that are fubje6l to it, 
 though only now and then as accidents happen, have 
 great reafon to repent of more than their prefent beha- 
 viour, to charge themfelves with greater guilt than acci- 
 dental paffion, and to bring themfelves to fuch penance 
 and mortification, as is proper to deftroy habits of a 
 haughty fpirit. And this may be the reafon, why the 
 text looks no farther than the outward language ; why 
 it only fays ; Whofoever fhall fay. Thou fool ; becaufe 
 few can proceed fo far, as to the accidental ufeofhaughty> 
 difdainful language, but they whofe hearts are moire or 
 lefs pofTelTed with habits and fettled tempers of pride and 
 haughtinefs. 
 
 But to return : Interceflion is not only the bed arbi- 
 trator of all differences, the beft promoter of true friend- 
 fhip, the beft cure and prefervative againft all unkind 
 tempers, all angry and haughty pafTions, but is alfo of 
 great ufe to difcover to us the true ftate of our own 
 hearts. 
 
 There are many tempers which we think lawful and 
 innocent which we never fufpe6l of any harm ; which, if 
 they were to be tried by this devotion, would foon ftiew 
 us how we have deceived ourfelves. 
 
 Sufurrus is a pious, temperate, good man, remarkable 
 for abundance of excellent qualities. No one more con- 
 ilant at the fervice of the Church, or whofe heart is 
 more afFe<Sted with it. His charity is fo great, that he 
 alniod flarves himfelf, to be able to give greater alms to 
 the poor. Yet Sufurrus had a prodigious failing along 
 with thefe great virtues. He had a mighty inclination to 
 hear and difcover all the defe6^s and infirmities of all a- 
 bout him. You was welcome to tell hmi any thing of 
 any body, provided that you did not do it in the ftile of 
 an enemy. He never difliked an evil fpeaker, but when 
 his language was rough and paffionate. If you would but 
 v/hifper any thing gently, though it was ever fo bad in 
 itfelf, Sufurrus was ready to receive it. When he vifits^ 
 you generally hear him relating how forry he is for the 
 defeats and failings of fuch a neighbour. He is always 
 letting you know how tender he is of the reputation of 
 his neighbour •, how loth to fay that which he is forced 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLT LIFT?. ' 305 
 
 to fay ; and how gladly he would conceal it, if it could 
 be concealed. 
 
 Sufurrus had fuch a tender, compafTionate manner of 
 relating things the moft prejudicial to his neighbour, that 
 he even feemed, both to himfelf and othersj to be exer- 
 cifing a Chriftian charity, at the fame time that he was 
 indulging a whiipering, evil fpeaking temper. 
 
 Sufurrus once whifpered 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 (trong. His friend 
 made him this reply : You fay, Sufurrus, that you are 
 glad it has not yet taken wind: and that you have fome 
 hopes it may not prove true. Go home therefore to your 
 clofet, and pray to God for this man, in fuch a manner, 
 and with fuch earnelfnefs as you would pray for your- 
 felf on the like occafion. 
 
 Befeech God to interpofe in his favour, to fave him 
 from falfe accufers, and bring all thofe to ihame, who 
 by uncharitable whifpers and fecret ftories,. wound him, 
 like thofe that ftab in the dark. And when you have 
 made this prayer, then you may, if you pleafe, go tell 
 the fame fecret to fome other friend, that you have told 
 to me. 
 
 Sufurrus was exceedingly afFe6led with this rebuke, 
 and. felt the force of it upon his confcience in as lively 
 a manner, as if he had feen the books opened at the day 
 of judgment. All other arguments might have been re- 
 filled y but it was impoflible for Sufurrus either to rejed:, 
 or to follow this advice, without being equally felf-con« 
 demned in the higheft degree. From that time to this, 
 he has conflantly ufed himfelf to this method of inter- 
 ceffion J and his heart is fo entirely changed by it, that 
 he can now no more privately whifper 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 appoint- 
 ed one day in the week, to be a day of penance as long^ 
 as he lives, to humble himfelf before God, in the forrow- 
 ful confeflion of his former guilt. It may well be won- 
 dered how a man of fo much piety as Sufurrus could 
 
 be 
 
S06 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 be fo long deceived in himfelf, as to live in fuch a flate 
 of fcandal and evil fpeakingj without fufpefting himfelf 
 to be guilty of it. But it was the tendernefs and feem- 
 ing compaffion with which he heard and related every- 
 thing, that deceived both himfelf and others. This was 
 a falfenefs of heart, which was only to be fully difcover- 
 ed, by the true charity of interceffion. And if people of 
 virtue, who think little harm of themfelves, as Sufurrus 
 did, were often to try their fpirit by fuch an interceffion, 
 they would often find themfelves to be fuch, as they leaft 
 of all fufpe£led. 
 
 I have laid before you, the many and great advantages 
 of interceffion. You have feen what a divine friendfhip it 
 jnuft needs beget amongft Chriflians*, how dear it would 
 .render all relations and neighbours to one another ; how 
 it tends to make Clergymen, Mafters, and Parents, ex- 
 emplary and perfed: in all the duties of their ftation ; 
 how certainly it deftroys all envy, fpite, and ill-natured 
 paffions ; how fpeedily it reconciles all differences, and 
 with what a piercing light it difcovers to a man the true 
 ftate of his heart, 
 
 Thefe confiderations will, I hope, perfuade you to 
 make fuch interceffion as is proper for your ftate, the 
 conftant, chief matter of your devotion at this hour of 
 prayer. 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 Recommending Devotion at three o'ckck^ railed in Scripture 
 the TAXith hour of the day. The Jubjecf of prayer at this 
 hour is Refignation to the divine pi eafure. The nature 
 a fid duty of conformity to the will of' God in all our aEtions 
 and deftgns, 
 
 I HAVE recommended certain fubjecEls to be made the 
 fixed and chief matter of your devotion'^, at all the 
 hours of prnyer that have been already confidered. As 
 thanklgiving, and oblation of yourfelf to God, at your 
 firfl: pr;:yers in the morning; at nine, the great virtue of 
 Chriitian humility is to be the chief part ofyourpetitions^ 
 at twelve, you are called upon to pray for all the graces 
 
 of 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. S07 
 
 of unlverfal love, and to raife it in your heart by fuch 
 general and particular interceffions, as your own ftate, 
 and relation to other people, feeni more particularly to 
 require of you. At this hour of the afternoon, you are 
 delired to confider the neceffity of refignation and con- 
 formity to the will of God, and to make this great virtue 
 the principal matter of your prayers. 
 
 There is nothing wife, or holy, or juft, but the great 
 will of God. This is as flri^lly true in the moll rigid 
 fenfe, as to fay, that nothing is infinite and eternal but 
 God. No beings therefore, whether in heaven or on 
 earth, can be wife, or holy, or juft, but fo far as they con- 
 form to this will of God. It is conformity to this will, 
 that gives virtue and perfection to the higheft fervices 
 of angels in heaven*, and it is conformity to the fame 
 will that makes the ordinary a6lions of men on earth be- 
 come an acceptable fervice unto God. 
 
 The whole nature of virtue confifts in conforming, 
 and the whole nature of vice in declining from the will 
 of God. All God's creatures are created to fulfil his 
 will j the Sun and Moon obey his will, by the neceffity 
 of their nature : Angels conform to his will by the per- 
 fedlion of their nature. If therefore you would fliew 
 yourfelf not to be a rebel and apofhate from the order of 
 the creation, you muft a6t like beings both above and 
 below you; it muft be the great delire of your foul, that 
 God's will may be done by you on earth, as it is done 
 in heaven. It muft be the fettled purpofe and intention 
 of your heart, to will nothing, defign nothing, do no- 
 thing, but fo far as you have reafon to believe, that it is 
 the will of God, that you fhould fo defire, defign, and 
 do. It is as juft and neceilary to live in this itate of 
 heart, to think thus of God and yourfelf, as to tliink that 
 you have any dependence upon him. And it is as great 
 a rebellion againft God, to think that your will may ever 
 differ from his, as to think that you have not. received the 
 power of willing from him. You are therefore to con- 
 fider yourfelf 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 a6t 
 fome part in Uriel conformity, and thankful refignation 
 
 to 
 
1^8 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 to the divine pleafure. To think that you are your own, 
 or at your own difpofil, is as abfurd as to think that you 
 created, and can preferve yourfelf. It is as plain and 
 neceflary a firft principle, to believe you are thus God's, 
 that you thus belong to him, and are to a6l and fufFer 
 ail in a thankful refignation to his pleafure, as to believe, 
 that in him you live, and move, and have your being. 
 Refignation to the divine will, fignifies a chearful ap- 
 probation 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 hap- 
 pens to us. For there is no reafon why we fhould be 
 patient, but what is as good and ftrong a reafon why we 
 Ihould be thankful. If. we were under the hands of a 
 wife and good phyfician, that could not mifl:,ake, or do 
 any thing to us, but what certainly tended to our bene- 
 fit ; it would not be enough to be patient, and abftain 
 from murmuring againil; fuch a phyfician j but it would 
 be as great a breach of duty and gratitude to him, not 
 to be pleafed and thankful for what he did, as it would 
 be to murmur at him. Now this is our true itate with 
 relation to God ; we cannot be faid fo much as to be- 
 lieve in him, unlefs we believe him to be of infinite wif- 
 dom. Every argument therefore for patience 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 difpofe us to this gratitude to- 
 wards God, than a full belief in him, that he is this be- 
 ing of infinite wifdom, love, and goodnefs. Do but af- 
 fent 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 poffibly be pleafed 
 with the behaviour of any perfon towards you, but be- 
 caufe it is for your good, is wife in itfelf , and the efFe6b 
 of his love and goodnefs towards you ; fo when you are 
 fatisfied that God does not only do that which is wife, 
 and good, and kind, but that which is the efFedt of ark 
 infinite wifdom and love in the care of you ; it will be 
 as neceflary, whilfl you have this faith, to be thankful 
 and be pleafed with every thing which God chufes for 
 
 you^ 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. S09 
 
 you, as to wlfh your own happinefs. Whenever there- 
 fore you find yourfelf dlfpoied to uneafinefs, or mur- 
 muring at any thing, that is the efFe6l of God's provi- 
 dence over you, you mufl look upon yourfelf as denying 
 either the wifdom or goodnefs of God. For every com- 
 plaint neceflarily fuppofes this. You would never com- 
 plain of your neighbour, but that you fuppofe you can 
 Ihow either his unwife, unjuft, or unkind behaviour to- 
 wards you. Now every murmuring, impatient reflec- 
 tion under the providence of God, is the fame accufa- 
 tion of God. A complaint always fuppofes ill ufage. 
 
 Hence alfo you may fee the great neceffity and piety 
 of this thankful ilate of heart, becaufe the want of it 
 implies an accufation of God's want either of wifdom, 
 or goodnefs, in his difpofal of us. It is not therefore any 
 high degree of perfection, founded in any uncommon 
 nicety of thinking, or reiined notions, but a plain prin- 
 ciple, founded in this plain belief, that God is a being of 
 infinite wifdom and goodnefs. Now this refignation to 
 the divine will, may be confidered in two refpedls j Firft, 
 As it fignifies a thankful approbation of God's general 
 providence over the world : Secondly, As it fignifies a 
 thankful acceptance of his particular providence over us, 
 Firft, Every man is by the law of his creation, by the 
 firft article of his creed, obliged to confent to, and ac- 
 knowledge the wifdom and goodnefs of God, in his ge- 
 neral providence over the whole world. He is to be- 
 lieve that it is the effedl of God's great wifdom and good- 
 nefs, that the world itfelf was formed at fuch a particular 
 time, and in fuch a manner. That the general order of 
 nature, the whole frame of things, is contrived and for- 
 med in the belt manner. He is to believe that God's 
 providence over flates and kingdoms, times and feafons, 
 is all for the beft. That the revolutions of ftate, and 
 changes of empire, the rife and fall of monarchies, per- 
 fecutions, wars, x^amines and plagues, are all permitted, 
 and conduced by God's providence, to the general good 
 of man in this (late of trial. A good man is to believe 
 all this, with the fame fulnefs of aifent, as he believes 
 that God is in every place, though he neither fees, nor 
 can comprehend the manner of his prefence. This is a 
 
 noble 
 
310 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 — noble magnificence of thought, a true religious greatnefs 
 of mind, to 'be thus afFe6i:ed with God's general provi- 
 dence, admiring and magnifying his wifdominallthings; 
 never murmuring at the courfe of the world, or the Hate 
 of things, but looking upon all around, at heaven and 
 earth, as a pleafed fpedlator •, and adoring that invifible 
 hand, which gives laws to all motions, and over-rules all 
 events to ends fuitable to thehigheft wifdom andgood- 
 nefs. 
 
 It is very common for people to allow themfelves great 
 liberty in finding fault with fuch things, as have only 
 God for their caufe. Every one thinks he may juilly 
 fay, what a wretched, abominable climate he lives in. 
 This man is frequently telling you, w^hat a difmal, cur- 
 fed day it is, and what intolerable feafons we have. A- 
 nother 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 fliew that religion has not yet its feat in 
 the heart of thofe 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 provi- 
 dence : to complain of the feafons and weather, than to 
 complain of God ; but if thefe have no other caufe but 
 God and his providence, it is a poor diftin£lion-to fay, 
 that you are only angry at the things, but not at the 
 caufe and director of them. 
 
 How facred the whole frame of the world is, how all 
 things are to be confidered asGod'sandreferredtohim, is 
 fully taughtby our blelled Lord in the cafe of oaths: ^^ But 
 Ifav unto ^oUi Swear not at all ; neither by heaven, for it 
 is God's throne ,- nor by the earthy for it is hisfootjlool; nei- 
 ther by Jerujaiemyfor it is the city of the great King; nei^ 
 ther fjalt thcuficear by thy heady becanfe thou carjl not 
 male one hair ichite or black; Mat. v. 37. 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 heavens to the fmalleft hair, are always 
 to be confidered, not feparately as they are in themfelves, 
 but as in fome relation t;o God. And if this be good rea- 
 foning, thou llialt not fwear by the earth, a city, or thy 
 
 hair, 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. Sll 
 
 hair, becaufe thefe things are Gods, and in a certain 
 manner belong to him ; is it not exa'£lly the fame rea- 
 foning to fay. Thou (halt not murmur at the feafons of 
 the earth, the itates of cities, and the change of times, 
 becaufe all thefe things are in the hands of God, have 
 him for their Author, are dire£led and governed by him 
 to luch ends, as are moil fuitable to his wife-providence ? 
 
 If you think you can murmur at the ilate of things 
 without murmuring at Providence, or complain of feafons 
 without complaining of God j hear what our blelFed 
 Lord fays farther upon oaths ; Whofo fiall fwear by the 
 altar yfzuearetb by ity and by ail things thereofi : and luhofo 
 /hall fiuear by the temple^ fweareth by him that dzuelleth 
 therein : and he that fiall fwear by heaveUy fweareth by the 
 throne of God^ and by him thatfitteth thereon^ Matt, xxiii. 
 20. Now does not this Scripture plainly oblige us to 
 reafon after this manner : V/hofo murm.urs at the courfe 
 of the world, murmurs at God that governs the courfe 
 of the world. Whofo repines at feafons and weather, 
 and fpeaks impatiently of times and events, repines and 
 fpeaketh impatiently of God, who is the fole Lord and 
 Governor of times, feafons and events. As therefore 
 when we think of God himfelf, we are to have no fenti- 
 ments but of praife and thankfgiving 5 fo when we look 
 at thofe things which are under the direftion of God, 
 and governed hj his Providence, we are to receive them 
 with the fame tempers of praife and gratitude. And 
 though we are not to think all things right, and jull, and 
 lawful, which the providence of God permits j for then 
 nothing could be unjuft, becaufe nothing without his 
 permiflion; yet we mull adore God in the greatelt pub- 
 lic calamities, the moll grievous perfecutions, as things 
 that are fuffered by God, like plagues and famines, for 
 ends fuitable to his wifdom and glory in the government 
 of the world. 
 
 There is nothing more fuitable to the piety of a rea- 
 fonable creature, or the fpirit of a chrillian, than thus 
 to approve, admire, and glorify God in all the a6ts of 
 his general providence : 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, 
 
S12 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 truth, Tknt all things miift he aj God pleafes; and is not 
 this enough to make every man pleafed with them him- 
 .felf ? And how can a man be a peevifh complainer of any- 
 thing that is the effetl of providence but by fhewing that 
 his own felf-will and felf-wifdom is of more weight 
 with him, than the will and wifdom 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 well in ca- 
 lamities and fufferings, as in profperity and happinefs, 
 he is as far from the piety of a chriftian, as he that on- 
 ly loves them that loves him, is from the charity of a 
 chriilian. For to thank God only for fuch things as you 
 like, is no more a proper a61: of piety, than to believe on- 
 ly what you fee, is an a6l of faith. 
 
 Refignation and thankfgiving to God are only a6ls of 
 piety, when they are a6ts of faith, truft, and confidence 
 in the divine goodnefs. The. faith of Abraham was an 
 a£l of true piety, becaufe it flopped at no difficulties, 
 was not altered or lelfened by any human appearances. 
 It firll of all carried him, againft all (hew of happinefs, 
 from his own kindred and country, into a ftrange land, 
 not knowing whether he went. It afterwards made him 
 againft all appearance of nature, when his ^c^j; luas dead^ 
 nvhen he %uas about an hundred years oldy depend upon the 
 promife of God being fully perfuaded that what Gody had 
 promifedf he ivas able to perform. It was this fame faith, 
 that againft fo many pleas of nature, fo many appearan- 
 ces of reafon, prevailed upon him to offer up Ijaac 
 accounting that God ivas able to raife him up from the dead, 
 Heb. xi. 17, 19. Now this faith is the true pattern of 
 Chriftian refignation to the divine pleafure.; you are to 
 thank and praife God, not only for things agreeable to 
 you, that have the appearance of happinefs and comfortj 
 but when you are, like Abraham, called from all appear- 
 ance of comfort, to be a pilgrim in a ftrange land, to 
 part with an only fon ; being as fully perfuaded of the 
 divine goodnefs in all things that happen to you, as A- 
 braham was of the divine promife, when there was the 
 leaft appearance of its being performed. 
 
 This is true Chriftian refignation to God, which re- 
 quires no more to the fupport of it^ than, fuch a plain af- 
 
 furance 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. S13 
 
 furance of the goodnefs of God, as Abraham had of his 
 veracity. And if you a(k yourfelf, what greater reafoii 
 Abraham had to depend upon the divine veracity, than 
 you have to depend upon the divine goodnefs, you vi^ill 
 find that none can be given. You cannot therefore 
 look upon this as an unneceflary, high pitch of perfec- 
 tion, fince the want of it impHes the want, not of any 
 high notions, but of a plain and ordinary faith in the 
 moft certain do6lrines both of natural and revealed re- 
 ligion. 
 
 Thus much concerning refignation to the divine will, 
 as it fignifies a thankful approbation of God's general 
 providence ; it is now to be confidered, as it fignifies 
 a thankful acceptance of God's particular providence 
 over us. 
 
 Every man is to confiderhimfelf as a particular obje6t 
 of God's providencej 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 time, of 
 fuch parents, and in fuch place and condition. It is as 
 certain, that every foul comes into the body at fuch a 
 time, and in fuch circumftances, by the exprefs defign- 
 ment of God, according to fome purpofes of his will, 
 and for fome particular ends; this is as certain, as that it 
 is by the exprefs defignment of God, that fome beings 
 are angels and others are men. It is as much by the 
 counfel and eternal purpofe of God, that you fliould be 
 born in your particular flate, and that liaac lliould be 
 the fon of Abraham, as that Gabriel fliould be an angel, 
 and Ifaac a man. The fcripture aflure us, that it was by 
 divine appointment, tliat our blefied Saviour was born at 
 Bethlehem, and at fuch a time. Now although i: was 
 owing to the dignity of his perfon and the great import- 
 ance of his birth, that thus much of the divine counfel 
 was declared to the world concerning the time and man- 
 ner of it J yet we are as fure from the fame fcriptures, 
 that the time and manner of every man's coming into 
 the world, is according to fome eternal purpoles and di- 
 redlion of divine providence, and in fuch time and 
 place, and circumstances, as are directed and governed 
 , by God for particular ends of his wifdom and goodnefs. 
 This we are as certain of from plain revelation, as we 
 
 can 
 
S14 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 can be of any thing. For if we are told, that not a 
 fparronv fnlleth to the ground without our heavenly Father; 
 can any thing more Ihongly teach us, that much great- 
 er beings, fuch as human fouls, come not into the world 
 without the care and direction of our heavenly Father? 
 If it is faid, the very hairs of your head are all numbered; 
 is it not to teach us, that nothing, not the fmallefl 
 things imaginable, happen to us by chance? But if the 
 fmalleft things we can conceive, are declared to be un- 
 der the divine diredlion, need we, or can we be more 
 plainly taught, that the greatefl things of life, fuch as 
 the manner of our coming into the world, our parents, 
 the time, and other circumflances of our birth and con- 
 dition, are all according to the eternal purpofes, direc- 
 tion and appointm.ent of divine providence ? 
 
 When the difciples put this queflion to our blefled 
 Lord, concerning the blind man, faying, Majler^ ivho did 
 ftn, this mauy or his parents ^ that he n.vas horn blind P He 
 that was the eternal wifdcm of God made this anfwer. 
 Neither hath this man finned^ nor his parents; but that the 
 ivorks ofGodfiould he made manifejl in hiniy John ix, 2, 3. 
 Plainly declaring, that the particular circumflances of 
 every man's birth, the body that he receives, and the con- 
 dition and ftate of life into which he is born, are appoint- 
 ed by a fecret providence, which direfts all things to their 
 particular times and feafons, and manner of exiftence, 
 that the wildom and w^orks of God may be made mani- 
 fed in them all. As therefore it is thus certain, that we 
 are what we are, as to birth, time, and condition of en- 
 tering into the world ; fmce all that is particular in our 
 ilate, is the effeft of God's particular providence over 
 us, and intended for fome particular ends both of his 
 glory, and our own happinefs, we are, by the greatefl 
 obligations of gratitude called upon to conform and re- 
 fign our w^ill to the will of God in all thefe refpe6ls ; 
 thankfully approving and accepting every thing that is 
 particular in our flate. Praifmg and glorifying his name 
 for our birth of fuch parents, and in fuch circumflances 
 of ftate and condition ; being fully afiured, that it was 
 for feme reafons of infinite wifdom and goodnefs,/that 
 we were fo born into fuch particular flates of life. If 
 the man above-mentioned, was born blind, that the ' 
 
 works 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE.. 315 
 
 works of God might be manifefted in him, had he not 
 great reafon to praife God, for appointing him in fuch 
 a particular manner, to be the inllrument of his glory ? 
 And if one perfon is born here, and another there ; if 
 one falls amongft riches, and another into poverty ; if 
 one receives his flefli and blood from thefe parents, and 
 another from thofe, for as particular ends, as the man was 
 born bUnd; have not all people the greateil reafon to 
 blefs God, and to be thankful for their particular (late 
 and condition, becaufe all that is particular in it, is as 
 direclly intended for the glory of God, and their own 
 good, as the particular blindnefs of that man, who was fo 
 born, that the works of God might be manifefted in him? 
 
 How noble an idea does this give us of the divine Om- 
 mfcience prefiding over the whole world, and governing 
 fuch a long chain and combination of feeming accidents 
 and chances, to the common and particular advantages 
 of all beings ? So that all perfons, in fuch a wonderful 
 variety of caufes, accidents and events, (liould all fall 
 into fuch particular ftates, as were forefeen, and fore- 
 ordained to their beft advantage, and fo as to be moffc 
 ferviceable to the wife and glorious ends of God's go- 
 vernment of all the world. 
 
 Had you been any thing elfe than what you are, you 
 had, all things confidered, been lefs wifely provided for 
 than you are now ; you had wanted fome circumftances 
 and conditions, that are beft fitted to make you happy 
 yourfelf, and ferviceable to the glory of God. Could you 
 fee ail that which God fees, ail that happy chain of caufes 
 and motives which are to move and invite you to a right 
 courfe of life, you would fee fomething to make you like 
 that ftate you are in, as fitter for you than any other. 
 But as you cannot fee this, fo it is here that your Chri- 
 ftian faith and truft in God, is to exercife itfelf, and ren- 
 der you as grateful and thankful for the happinefs of 
 your itate, as if you faw every thing that contributes to 
 it with your own eyes. But now if this is the cafe of 
 every man in the world, thus blelled with fome particu- 
 lar ftate that is moft convenient for him, how reafonable 
 is it for every man to will that which God has already 
 willed for him ? And by a pious faith and truft in the 
 divine Goodnefs, thankfully adore and magnify that 
 
 wile 
 
SJ6 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 wife providence, which he is fure has made the befl 
 choice for him of thofe things, which he could not chufe 
 for himfelf. 
 
 Every uneafinefs at our own flate, is founded upon 
 comparing it with that of other people. Which is full as 
 unreafonable, as if a man in a dropfy fhould be angry at 
 thofe that prefcribe different things to him, from thofe 
 which are prefcribed to people in health. For all the dif- 
 ferent ftates of life are like the different ftates of difeafes, 
 what is a remedy to one man in his ftate, may be poifon 
 to another. So that to murmur becaufe you are not as 
 fome others are, is as if a man in one difeafe fliould mur- 
 mur that he is not treated like him that is in another. 
 Whereas if he was to have his will, he would be killed 
 by that, which will prove the cure of another. It is jult 
 thus in the various conditions of life j if you give yourfelf 
 up to uneafinefs, or complain at any thing in your Itate, 
 you may, for aught you know, be fo ungrateful to God, 
 as to murmur at that very thing, which is to prove the 
 caufe of your falvation. Had you it in your power to get 
 that which you think it fo 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 for us, or our own great ignorance of what 
 is moft advantageous to us, there can be nothing fo rea- 
 fonable and pious, as to have no will but that of God's, 
 and defire nothing for ourfeleves, in Qur perfons, our 
 ftate, and condition, but that which the good providence 
 of God appoints us. Farther, as the good providence 
 «f God thus introduces us into the world, into fuch 
 ftates and conditions of life, as are moft convenient for 
 us, fo the fame unerring wifdom orders all events, 
 and changes in the whole courfe of our lives, in fuch a 
 manner, as to render them the fitteft means to exercife 
 and improve our virtue. Nothing hurts us, nothings 
 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 itfelf was not made by chance, we are 
 as certain that all things happen and work together for 
 our good, as that God is goodnefs itfelf. So that a man 
 
 has 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 317 
 
 has as much reafon to will every thing that happens to 
 him,becaufe God wills it^ as to think that is wifeft, which 
 is dire6led by infinite wifdom. This is not cheating or 
 foothing ourfelves into any falfe content, or imaginary 
 happineis; but is a ratisfa6lion grounded upon as great a 
 certainty, as the being and attributes of God. For if we 
 are right in believing God to a£i: over us with infinite 
 wifdom and goodnefs, we cannot carry our notions, con- 
 formity and refignation to the divine will too high; nor 
 can we ever be deceived, by thinking that to be belt for 
 us, which God has brought upon us. For the providence 
 of God is not more concerned in the government of night 
 and day, and the variety of feafons, than in the common 
 courfe of events, that feem moil to depend upon the mere 
 v/ills of men. So that it is as ftriftly right, to look upon 
 all worldly accidents and changes, all the various turns 
 and alterations in your own life, to be as truly the efFe6ls 
 of Divine Providence, as the rifing and fetting of the 
 fun, or the alterations of the feafons of the year. As you 
 are therefore always to adore the wifdom of God in the 
 direction of thefe things ; fo it is the fame reafonable 
 duty, always to magnify God, as an equal dire6lor of 
 every thing that happens to you in the courfe of your 
 own life. This holy refignation and conformity of your 
 will to the will of God, being fo much the true ftate 
 of piety, I hope you will think it proper to make this 
 hour of prayer, a conftant feafon of applying to God 
 for fo great a gift. That by thus conftantly praying 
 for it, your heart may be habitually difpofed towards 
 it, and always in a ftate of readinefs to look at every 
 tiling as God's, and to confider him in every thing ; 
 tliat fo every thing that befals you, may be received ia 
 the fpirit of piety, and made a means of exercifing fome 
 virtue. 
 
 There is nothing that fo powerfully governs the heart, 
 that fo ftrongly excites us to wife and reafonable actions, 
 as a true fenfe of God's prefence. 
 
 But as we cannot fee, or apprehend the eflence of 
 God, fo nothing will lb conftantly keep us under a lively 
 fenfe of the jprefence of God, as this holy refignation, 
 which attributes every thing to him, and receives every 
 thing as from him. 
 
 O Could 
 
318 ' A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Could we fee a miracle from God, how would our 
 thoughts be afFe6led with an holy awe and veneration of 
 his prefence! But if we confider every thing as God's do- 
 ing, either by order or permiffion, we Ihall then be affec- 
 ted with common things, as they would be who faw a 
 miracle. For as there is nothing to aiTedl you in a mira- 
 cle, but as it is the a£lion of God, and befpeaks his pre- 
 fence*, fo when you confider God, as a£ting in all things, 
 and all events, then all things will become venerable to 
 you, like miracles, and fill you with the fame awful 
 fentlmients of the divine prefence. Now you muft not 
 referve the exercife of this pious temper, to any par- 
 ticular times or occafions, or fancy how refigned you 
 will be to God, if fuch or fuch trials fhould happen. For 
 this is amufnig yourfelf with the notion or idea of re- 
 l^gnation inftead of the virtue itfelf. Do not therefore 
 pleafe yourfelf with thinking how pioufly you would 
 a<Sl and fubmit to God, in a plague, a famine, or per- 
 fecution j but be intent upon the perfection of the pre- 
 fent day ; and be aifured, that the bell way of (hewing 
 ^ true zeal, is to make little things the occafions of 
 great piety. 
 
 Begin therefore in the fmallefl matters, and molt or- 
 dinary occafions, and accuftom your mind to the daily 
 exercife of this pious temper, in the lowefl occurren- 
 ces of life. And when a contempt, an affront, a little 
 injury, lofs, or difappointment, or the fmalleft events 
 of every day, continually raife your mind to God in pro- 
 per a6ls of refignation, then you may juftljr hope, that 
 you fiiall be numbered amongfl thofe that are refign- 
 ed and thankful to God in the greateft trials and af« 
 ^ticlions. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 319 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 Of Eve fling prayer. Of the nature and necejfity of examinj' 
 tion^ How ive are to be particular in the confeffion of 
 all our fins, Hszu we are to fl I our minds with a jujl 
 horror and dread of all fin. 
 
 I AM now come to fix o'clock in the evening, v/hich, 
 according to the fcripture account, is called the 
 twelfth, or laft hour of the day. This is a time fo pro- 
 per for devotion, that I fuppofe nothing need be faid 
 to recommend it as a feafon of prayer, to all people that, 
 profefs any regard to piety. As the labour and action 
 of every ftate 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 ac- 
 tion of the day. The neceffity of this examination, is 
 founded upon the neceflity of repentance. For if it -be 
 neceilary to repent of all our fms, if the guilt of unre- 
 pented fins ftill continue upon us, then it is neceffary 
 not only that our fins, but the particular clrcumftances 
 and aggravations of them, be known and recollecled, and 
 brought to repentance. The Scripture faith, If we con- 
 ffs our fins ^ he is faithful and juft to forgive us our fins ^ and 
 to cleanfe us from all unrighteoufiefs^ 1 John i. 9. Which 
 is as much as to fay, that then only our fins are for- 
 given, and v/e cleanfed from the guilt and unrighte- 
 eufnefs of them, when they are thus confelled and re- 
 pented of. 
 
 ^There feem.s therefore to be the greateft neceffity, that 
 all our daily actions be conftantly obferved, and brought 
 to account, left by a negligence, we load ourfelves with 
 tlie guilt of unrepented fins. This examination therefore 
 of ourfelves every evening, is not only to be conndered 
 as a commendable rule, c.wqi fit for a wife man to obferve; 
 but as fom^ething that is as neceilary as a daily confeffion 
 and repentance of our fins-, becaufe this daily repentance 
 2 is 
 
320 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 is of very little fignlficancy, and lofes all its chief bene- 
 fit, unlefs it be a particular confeffion and repentance of 
 the fms of that day. This examination is neceflary to 
 repentance in the fame manner as time is neceflary ; 
 3^ou cannot repent or exprefs your forrow, unlefs you 
 allow fome time for it : nor can you repent, but fo far 
 as you know what it is that you are repenting of. So 
 that when it is faid, that it is neceflary to examine and 
 call your actions to account ; it is only faying, that it 
 is neceflary to know what, and how many things you 
 are to repent of. 
 
 You perhaps have hitherto only ufed yourfelf to con- 
 fefs yourfelf a flnner in general, and aflved forgivenefs in 
 the grofs, without any particular remembrance, or con- 
 trition for the particular fins of that day. And by this 
 pracStice you are brought to believe, that the fame fliort, 
 general form of confeflion of fin in general, is a fufhcient 
 repentance for every day. Suppofe another perfon 
 fhould hold that a confeflion of our fins in general once 
 at the end of every week was fuflicient ; and that it was 
 as well to confefs the fins of feven days altogether, as 
 to have a particular repentance at the end of every day. 
 
 I know you fufBciently fee the unreafonablenefs and 
 impiety of this opinion, and that you think it is eafy 
 enough to fhew the danger and folly of it. Yet you can- 
 not bring one argument againlt fuch an opinion, but 
 what will be as good an argument againlt fuch a daily 
 repentance, as does not call the particular fins of that 
 day to a fl:ri(£l account. For as you can bring no exprefs 
 text of fcripture againfl: fuch an opinion, but muit take 
 all your arguments from the nature of repentance, and 
 the necefl^ity of a particular repentance 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 juftly 
 faid againil leaving the fins of the whole week to be re- 
 pented for in the grofs, but what may as jultly be faid 
 againil a daily repentance, which confiders the fins of 
 that day only in the grofs. 
 
 Would you tell fuch a man, that a daily confeflion 
 was neceflary to keep up an abhorrence of fin, that the 
 mind would grow hardened and fenfelefs of the guilt of 
 
 fin 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE* S21 
 
 fin without it ? And is not this as good a reafon for re- 
 quiring that your daily repentance be very exprefs and 
 particular for your daily fins ? For if confeffion is to 
 raife an abhorrence of fni, furely that confeilion which 
 conliders and lays open your particular fins, that brings 
 them to light with all their circumftances and aggrava- 
 tions, that requires a particular forrowful acknowledg- 
 ment of every (in, m.uft in a much greater degree fill the 
 mind with an abhorrence of fm, than that which only in 
 one and the fame form of words, confeires you only to 
 be a fmner in general. For as this is nothing but what 
 the greatell famt may juftly fay of himfelf, lb the daily 
 repeating of only fuch a confeilion, has nothing in it to 
 make you truly afliamed of your own way of lite. 
 
 Again : Mult you not tell fuch a man, that by leaving 
 himfelf to fuch a weekly, general confeilion, he would 
 be in great danger of forgetting a great many of his fins? 
 But is there any fenfe or force in this argument, unlefs 
 you fuppcfe that our fms are all to be remembered, and 
 brought to a particular repentance ? And is it not as ne- 
 cefTary, that our particular fmjs be not forgotten, but par- 
 ticularly remembered in your daily, as in a repentance at 
 any other time ? So that every argument for a daily con- 
 feilion and repentance, is the fame argument for the con- 
 feilion and repentance of the particular fins of every day. 
 Becaufe dally confeilion has no other reafon or neceihty, 
 but our daily fms ; and therefore is nothing of what it 
 ihould be, but fo far as it is repentance and forrowful 
 acknowledgement of the fins of the day. 
 
 You would, I fuppofe, think yourfelf chargeable with 
 great impiety, if you was to go to bed without confefling 
 yourfelf to be a finner, and aiking pardon of God *, you 
 v/ould not think it fufficient that you did fo yelterday. 
 and yet if without any regard to the prefent day, you 
 only repeat the fame form of words that you ufed yeiler- 
 day, the fms of the prefent may juftly be looked upon to 
 have had no repentance. For if the (ins of the prefect 
 day require a new confeilion, it muft be fuch a new 
 confeiTion as is proper to itfelf. For it is the ftate and 
 condition of every day, that is to determine the (late and 
 manner of your repentance in the evening •, otherwife 
 the fame general form of words is rather an empty for- 
 O 3 • mality 
 
522 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 mality, that has the appearance of a duty ; than fuch a 
 true performance of it, as is neceflary to make it truly 
 ufeful to you. 
 
 Let it be fuppofed, that on a certain day you have been 
 guilty of thefe fins ; that you have told a vain lye upon 
 yourfelf, afcribing fomething falfely to yourfelf through 
 pride ; that you have been guilty of detracStion, and in- 
 dulged yourfelf in fome degree of intemperance. Let it 
 be luppofed, that on the next day you have lived in a 
 contrary manner j that you have negleded no duty of 
 devotion, and been the red of the day innocently em- 
 ployed in your proper bufmefs. Let it be fuppofed, that 
 on the evening of both thefe days you onjy ufe the fame 
 confeffion In general, confidering it rather as a duty that 
 is to be performed every night, than as a repentance 
 that is to be fulted to the particular ftate of the day. Can 
 it vt^ith any reafon be fald, that each day has had its pro- 
 per repentance? Is It not as good fenfe to fay, there is no 
 difference in the guilt of thefe days, as to fay that there 
 need be no dlfterent repentance at the end of them ? Or 
 how can each of them have its proper repentance, but by 
 its having a repentance as large and extenfive, and par- 
 ticular, as the guilt of each day? 
 
 Again : Let It be fuppofed, that in that day, when 
 you had been guilty of the three notorious fins above- 
 nientioneci, that in your evening repentance, you had 
 only called one of them to mind : Is it not plain, that 
 the other two are unrepented of, and that therefore their 
 guilt ftUl abides upon you ? So that you are then in the 
 itate of him who commits himfelf to the night without 
 the repenttince for fuch a day, as had betrayed him into 
 two fuch great fins. Now thefe are not needlefs parti- 
 culars, or fuch fcrupulous niceties, as a man need not 
 trouble himfelf about ; but are fuch plain truths, as ef- 
 fentially concern the very life of piety. For if repen- 
 tance is neceflary, it is full as neceflary that it might be 
 rightly performed, and in due manner. And I have en- 
 tered into all thefe particulars, only to fliew you in the 
 plaineil manner, that examination, and a careful review 
 of all the actions of the day, is not only to be looked 
 upon as a good rule, but as fomething as neceflary as re- 
 pentance itfelf. 
 
 If 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 323 
 
 If a man is to account for his expences at night, can it 
 be thought a needlefs exailnefs in him, to take notice of 
 every particular expence in the day ? And if a man is to 
 repent of his fms at night, can it be thought too great a 
 piece of fcrupuloiity in him, to know and call to mind 
 what lins he is to repent of ? 
 
 Farther : Though it hiould be granted, that a con- 
 feilion in general be a fufficient repentance for the end 
 of fuch days, as liave only the unavoidable frailties of 
 Gur nature to lament ; yet even this fully proves the ab- 
 folute neceffity of this felf-examination : for without 
 this examination, who can know that he has gone thro* 
 any day in this manner ? 
 
 Again : An evening repentance, which thus brings 
 all the adlions of the day to account, is not only necei- 
 fary to wipe off the guilt of fin, but is alfo the molt cer- 
 tain way to amend and perfe6l our lives. For it is only 
 fuch a repentance as this, that touches the heart, awa- 
 kens the confcience, and leaves an horror and detefta- 
 tion of fin upon the mind. For inftance : If it fnould 
 happen that upon any particular evening, all that you 
 could charge yourfelf with fliould be this, viz. a halty, 
 negligent performance of your devotions, or too much 
 time fpent in an impertinent converfation ; if the unrea- 
 fonablenefs of thefe things were fully refle£led upon, and 
 acknowledged j if you was then to condemn yourfelf 
 before God for them, and implore his pardon and aifilt- 
 ing grace, what could be fo likely a means to prevent 
 your falling into the fame 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 o.vn folly 
 and weaknefs, would caufe fuch a pain and remorfe in 
 your mind, and fill you with fuch Ihame and confufioii 
 at yourfelf, as would in all probabihty make you exceed- 
 ingly defirous of greater perfe6tion. 
 
 Now in the cafe of repeated fins, this would be the 
 certain benefit that we Ihould receive from this exami- 
 nation and confeifion ; the mind would thereby be made 
 humble, full of forrow and deep compunction, and by 
 degrees forced into amendment. • 
 
 O 1. Where- 
 
324 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 Whereas a formal, general, confefFion, that is only 
 confidered as an evening duty, that overlooks the parti- 
 cular miftakes of the day, and is the fame whether the 
 -day be fpent ill or well, has little or no effect upon the 
 mind j a man may ufe fuch a daily confellion, and yet 
 go on fnining and confefhng all his life, without any re- 
 morfe of mind, or true defire of amendment. For if 
 your own particula-r fnis are left out of your confeflion, 
 your confeffing of fm in general has no more effect upon 
 your mind, than if you had only confeffed that ail men 
 in general are fnmers. And there is nothing in any con- 
 feiiion to fliew that it is yours, but fo far as it is a felf- 
 accufation, not of fni in general, or fuch as is common 
 to all others, but of fuch particular fins, as are your own 
 proper fhame and reproach. 
 
 No other confelTion, but fuch as thus difcovers and 
 accufes your own particular guilt, can be an aO: of true 
 iorrov/ or real "concern at your own condition. And a 
 confeffion that is without this forrow^ and compunftion 
 of heart has nothing in it, either to atone for paft fins, 
 or to produce in us any true reformation and amend- 
 ment of life. 
 
 To proceed -, in order to make this examination dill 
 further beneficial, every man fiiould oblige himfelf to a 
 certain method in it. As every man has fomething par- 
 ticular in his nature, flronger inclinations to fome vices 
 than others, fome infirmities that Itick clofer to him, and 
 are harder to be conquered than others ; and as it is as 
 eafy for every man to know this of himfelf, as to know 
 whom he likes, or dillikes •, fo it is highly necefiary, that 
 thefe particularities of our natures and tempers ihould 
 never efcape a fevere trial at our evening repentance ; I 
 fay a fevere trial, becaufe nothing but a rigorous feverity 
 againft thefe natural tempers, is fufficient to conquer 
 hem. 
 
 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 llrength of na- 
 ture, and mult be treated witli great oppofition, or they 
 will foon be too ftrong for us. He therefore, who knows 
 himfelf moil of all fubjecl to anger and paffion, mull be 
 very e.xact and conitaut in his examination of this tem- 
 per 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLT LIFE. 325 
 
 per every evening. He muft find out every flip that he 
 has made of that kind, whether in thought, or vi^ord, or 
 aftion ; he muft fiiame, and reproach, andaccuie him- 
 felf before God, for every thing that he has faid or done 
 in obedience to his paflion. He muft no more allow 
 himfelf to forget the examination of this temper, than to 
 forget his whole prayers. 
 
 Again ; If you find that vanity is your prevailing 
 temper, that is always putting you upon the adornment 
 of your perfon, and catching every thing that com.pli- 
 ments or flatters your abilities, never fpare or forget this 
 temper in your evening examination ; but confefs to 
 God every vanity of thought, or word, or action, that 
 you have been guilty of, and put yourfelf to all the fhame 
 and confufion for it that you can. In this manner 
 fliould all people aft with regard to their chief frailty, 
 to which their nature moft inclines them. And though 
 it fliould not immediately do all that they would wilh, 
 yet by conftant praftice it would certainly in a fhort 
 time produce its defired efFeft. 
 
 Farther .- As all ftates and employments of life have 
 their particular dangers and temptations, and expofe peo- 
 ple more to fome fins than others, fo every man that 
 wifhes his own improvement, ihould make it a necefl^ary 
 part of his evening examination, to confider how he has 
 avoided, or fallen into fuch fins as are moft common to 
 his (late of life. For as our bufinefs and condition of 
 life has great power over us, fo nothing but fuch watch- 
 fulnefs as this, can fecure us from thofe temptations to 
 ■which it daily expofes us. The poor man, from his con- 
 dition of life, is always in danger of repining and un- 
 eafinefs ; the rich man is moft expofed to fenfuallty and 
 indulgence ; the tradefman to lying and unreafonablc 
 gains ; the fcliolar to pride and vanity ; fo that in every 
 Hate of life, a man (hould always, in his examination of 
 himfelf, have a ftri6l eye upon thofe faults, to which his 
 Itate of life moft of all expofes him. 
 
 Again ; As it is reafonable to fuppofe, that every good 
 man has entered Into, or at leaft propofed to himfelf, 
 fome method of holy living, and fet himfelf fome fuch 
 rules to obferve, as are not common to other people, and 
 only known tQ himfelf j fo it fhould be a conftant part 
 5 of 
 
326 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 of his night recolle^licn, to examine how and in what 
 degree, he has obferved them, and to reproach himfelf 
 before God, for every negle^l; of them. By rules, I 
 here mean, fucli rules as relate to the well-ordering of 
 our t'j.ie, and the bufinefs of our common life. Such 
 rules as prefcribe a certain order to all that we are to do, 
 our bufmefs, devotion, mortifications, readings, retire- 
 ments, converfation, meals, refreihments, lleep and the 
 like. Now as good rules relating to all thefe things, are 
 certain means of great improvement, and fuch as all fe- 
 rious Chriftians mud needs propofe to themfelves, fo 
 they will hardly ever be obferved to any purpofe, unlefs 
 they are made the conftant fubje6b of our evening exa- 
 mination. 
 
 Laj}ly^ You are not to content yourfelf with a hafly 
 general review of the day, but you mull enter upon it 
 with deliberation ; begin with the firft action of the day, 
 and proceed Hep by flep, through every particular mat- 
 ter that you have been concerned in, and fo let no time, 
 place or acSlion be overlooked. An examination thus 
 managed, will in a little time make you as different from 
 yourfelf, as a wife man is different from an ideot. It 
 will give you fuch a newnefs of mind, fuch a fprit of 
 wifdom, and defire of perfe£l:ion, as you was an entire 
 ftranger to before. Thus much concerning the evening, 
 examination. 
 
 I proceed now to lay before you fuch confiderations,: 
 as may fill your mind with a juft dread and horror of all 
 fin, and help you to confefs your own in the moft paf- 
 fionate contrition, and forrow of heart. Confider firll,. 
 hov/ odious all fm is to God, what a mighty bafenefs it 
 is, and how abominable it renders fmners in the fight of 
 God. That it is fin alone that makes the great differ- 
 ence betwixt an angel, and the devil ; and that every 
 liniier is, fo far as he fins, a friend of the devirs, and car- 
 rying on his work againfi: God. That fin is a greater 
 blemifh and defilement of the foul, than any filth or dif- 
 eafe is a defilement of the body. And to be content to 
 live in fin, is a much greater bafenefs, than to defire to 
 wallow in the mire, or Icve any bodily impurity. 
 
 Confider how you muff abhor a creature that delight- 
 ed in nothing but iiith and naftinefs, that hated every 
 
 thing 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. o2 1 
 
 thing that was decent and clean ; and let this teach you 
 to apprehend how odious that foul that delights in no- 
 thing but the impurity of fin, mull appear unto God. 
 For ail fins, whether of fenfuality, pride, or falfenefs, or 
 any other irregular pafiion, are nothing elfe but the filth 
 and impure difeafe of the rational foul. And all righte- 
 oufnefs is nothing elfe but the purity, the deceacy, the 
 beauty and perfe6lion 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 greatnefs of that atonement which 
 has been made for it. God made the world by the 
 breath of his mouth, by a word f)^iking ; but the re- 
 demption of the world has been a work of longer labour. 
 How eafily God can create beings, we learn from the 
 firfl chapter of Genefis ; but how difficult it is for in- 
 finite rnercy to forgive fins, we learn from that coftly a- 
 tonement, thofe bloody facrihces, thofe pains and pe* 
 nances, thofe ficknelTes and deaths, which all muft; be un- 
 dergone, before the guilty finner is fit to appear in the 
 prefence of God. 
 
 Ponder thefe great truths : That the Son of God was 
 forced to become man, to be partaker of all our infirmi- 
 ties ; to undergo a poor, painful, miferable, and con- 
 temptible life ; to be perfecuted, hated, and at lail nail* 
 ed to a crofs, that by fuch fufFerings he might render 
 God propitious to that nature in which he fufFered. 
 That all the bloody facrifices and atonements of the 
 Jewifti law, were to reprefent the necefiity of thi^ 
 great facrifice, and the great difpleafure God bore to fin- 
 ners. That the world is ftill under the curfe of fin and 
 certain marks of God's difpleafure at it ; fuch as famines^ 
 plagues, tempefts, ficknefs, difeafes and death. 
 
 Confider that all the fons of Adam are to go through 
 a painful, fickly life, denying and mortifying their natu- 
 ral appetites, and crucifying the lult of the flefh, in or- 
 der to have a fhare in the atonement of our Saviour's 
 death. That all their penances and felf-denials, all their 
 tears and repentance, are only made available by that 
 great interceffion, which is ftill making for them at the 
 right hand of God. 
 
 Confider thefe great truths ; that this myfterious re- 
 O 6 • dernption 
 
S2S A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 demption, all thefe facrifices and fufFerings, both of God 
 and man, are only to remove the guilt of fin ; and then 
 let this teach you with what tears and contrition, you 
 ought to purge yourfelf froni it. After this general 
 confideration of the guilt of fin, which has done fo much 
 mifchief to your nature, and expofed it to fo great pu- 
 nifhm.ent, and made it fo odious to God, that nothing 
 lefs than fo great an atonement of the Son of God, and 
 fo great repentance of our own, can reltore us to the di- 
 vine favour. 
 
 Confider next your own particular (hare in the guilt 
 of fin. And if you would know with what zeal you 
 ought to repent yourfelf, confider how you would ex- 
 hort another finner to repentance ; and what repentance 
 and amendment you would expe(^ from him, whom you 
 judged to be the greateft finner in the world. Now this 
 cafe every man may juftly reckon to be his own. And 
 you may fairly look upon yourfelf to be the greateft 
 finner that you know in the world. 
 
 For though you may know abundance of people to 
 be guilty of fome grofs fins, with which you cannot 
 charge yourfelf, yet you may juftly condemn yourfelf as 
 the greateft finner that you know. And that for thefe 
 following reafons. 
 
 Firft, becaufe you know more of the folly of your 
 own heart, than you do of other people's^ and can charge 
 yourfelf with various fins, that you only know of your- 
 self, and cannot be fure that other finners are guilty of 
 them. So that as you know more of the folly, the 
 bafenefs, the pride, the deceitfulnefs and negligence of 
 your own heart, than you do of any one's elfe, fo you 
 have juft reafon to confider yourfelf as the greateft fin- 
 ner that you know : Becaufe you know more of the 
 greatnefs of your own fins, than you do of other peo- 
 ple's. 
 
 Secondly, The greatnefs of our guilt arifes chiefly 
 from the greatnefs of God's goodnefs towards us, from 
 the particular graces and blellings, the favours, the lights, 
 and inftruftions that we have received from him. 
 
 Now as thefe graces and bieffings, and the multitude 
 of God^s favours towards us, are the great aggravations 
 ^f our fms againft God, fo they are only known to our- 
 
 felves. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFF, 529 
 
 felves. And therefore every fmner knows more of the 
 aggravation of his own guilt, than he does of other peo- 
 ple's ; and confequently may juflly look upon himfeif 
 to be the greateft fmner that he knows. 
 
 How good God hath been to other finners, what 
 light and inftrudlion he has vouchfafed to them ; what 
 bleflings and graces they have received from him ; hov/ 
 often he has touched their hearts with holy infpirations, 
 you cannot tell. But all this you know of yourfelf i 
 therefore you know greater aggravations of your own 
 guilt, and are able to charge yourfelf with greater ingra- 
 titude than you can charge upon other people. 
 
 And this is the reafon, why the greateft faints have in 
 all ages condemned themfelves as the greateft finners, 
 becaufe they knew fome aggravations of their own fins, 
 which they could not know of other people's. The right 
 way therefore to fill your heart with true contrition, and 
 a deep fenfe of your own fins, is this : You are not to 
 confider, or compare the outw^ard form or courfe of your 
 life, with that of other people's, and then think yourfelf 
 to be lefs finful than they, becaufe the outward courfe 
 of your life is lefs finful than theirs. But in order to 
 know your own guilt, you muft confider your own par- 
 ticular circumftances, your health, your ficknefs, your 
 youth, or age, your particlar calling, the happinefs of 
 your education, the degrees of light and inftrudlion that 
 you have received, the good men that you have conver- 
 ged with, the admonitions that you have had, the good 
 books that you have read, the numberlefs multitude of 
 divine bleflings, graces, and favours, that you have re- 
 ceived, the good motions of grace that you have refifted, 
 the refolutions of amendment that you have fo often 
 broken, and the checks of confcience that you have dif- 
 regarded. For it is from thefe circumftances, that every 
 one is to ftate the meafure and greatnefs of his own 
 guilt. And as you know only thefe circumftances of 
 your own fins, fo you muft neceffarily know how to 
 charge yourfelf with higher degrees of guilt, than you 
 can charge upon other people. God Almighty knows 
 greater finners it may be, than you are ; becaufe he fees 
 and knows the circumftances of ail mens fins : But your 
 own heart, if it is faithful to you, can difcover no guilt 
 
 fo 
 
3-30 . A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 fo great as your own ; becaufe it can only fee In yoyr 
 thofe circuai fiances, on which great part of the guilt of 
 fin is founded. You may fee fins in other people, that 
 you cannot charge upon yourfelf ; but then you know 
 a number of circumftances of your own guilt, that you 
 cannot lay to their charge. And perhaps that perfoii 
 that appears at fuch a diitance from your virtue, and fo 
 odious in your eyes, would have been much better than 
 you are, had he been altogether in your circumftances, 
 and received all the fiime favours an'd graces from God 
 that you have. 
 
 This is a very humbling reflexion, and' very proper 
 for thofe people to make, who meafure their virtue, by 
 comparing the outward courfe of their lives with that 
 of other people's. For look at whom you will, however 
 different from you in his way of life, yet you can never 
 know that he has refilled fo much divine grace as you 
 have ; or that in all your circumftances, he would not 
 have been much truer to his duty than you are. Now 
 this is the reafon why I defired you to confider, how 
 you would exhort that man to confefs, and bewail his 
 fins, whom you looked upon to be one of the greateft 
 finners. Becaufe if you will deal juftly, you mull fix 
 the charge at home, and look no farther than yourfelf. 
 For God has given no one any power of knowing the 
 true greatnefs of any fins, but his own ; and therefore 
 the greateft finner that every one knows is himfelf. You 
 may eafily fee how fuch a one in the outward courfe of 
 his life breaks the lav/s of God ; but then you can never 
 fay, that had you been exa<Slly in all his circumftances, 
 that you fliould not have broken them more than he has 
 done. A ferious and frequent reflection 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 tender in cenfuring and condemning o- 
 ther people, for who would dare to be fevere againft o- 
 ther people, when, for ought he can tellj the feverity of 
 God may be more due to him, than to them ? Who 
 would exclaim againft the guilt of others, when he con- 
 fiders that he knows more cF the greatnefs of his own 
 guilt, than he does of theirs ? How often you have re- 
 fifted God*s holy Spirit j how many motives to goodnefs 
 
 you. 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. S31 
 
 you have difregarded •, how many particular bleffing-s 
 j'-ou have finned againft j how many good refolu- 
 tions you have broken; how many checks and admoni- 
 tions of confcience you have ftifled, you very well 
 know : But how often this has been the cafe of other hn- 
 ners, you know not. And therefore the grjateft finner 
 that you know muft be yourfelf. 
 
 Whenever 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 moli 
 fevere in your cenfure, and moil humble and contrite in- 
 the acknowledgment and confeffion of your own (ins, be^* 
 caufe you know of no iinner equal to yourfelf. 
 
 Laftly, to conclude this chapter : Having thus ex- 
 amined and confefTetf your fins at this hour of the even- 
 ing, you muft afterwards look upon yourfelf, as ft ill 
 obliged to betake yourfelf to prayer again juft before 
 you go to bed. The fubjedt that is moft proper for your 
 prayers at that time, is death. Let your prayers there- 
 fore then be wholly upon it, reckoning up all the dan- 
 gers, uncertainties, and terrors of death 5 let them con- 
 tain every thing that can affe£t and awaken your mind 
 into juft apprehenfions of it. Let your petitions be all 
 for right fentiments of the approach and importance of 
 death ; and beg of God, that your mind may be polfelTed 
 with fuch a fenfe of its nearnefs, 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. Re- 
 prefent to your imagination, that your bed is your grave j 
 that all things are ready for your Interment ; that you. 
 are to have no more to do with this world ; and that it 
 will be owing 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 j as one that is to have no 
 more opportunities of doing good ; but is to awake a- 
 mongft fpirits that are feparate from the body, and wait- 
 ing for the judgment of the laft great day. 
 
 Such a folemn refignation of yourfelf into the hands of 
 God every evening, and parting with all the world, as if 
 you was never to fee It any more, and all this in the 
 filence and darknefs of the night, is a practice that will 
 
 foon 
 
332 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 foon have excellent efFe£ls upon your fplrit For this 
 time of the night is exceeding proper for fuch prayers 
 and meditations ; and the likenefs which fleep and dark- 
 nefs have to death, will contribute very much to make 
 your thoughts about it the more deep and affe£ling. So 
 that I hope you will not let a time, fo proper for fuch 
 prayers, be ever paiTed over without them. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 The Conclufion. Of the E>:cellency, ^ Greatnefi of a devout 
 Spirit. 
 
 I HAVE now finlflied 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 regu- 
 lar 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 reafonable to 
 fuppofe it the defire of all Chriftians to arrive at Chrif- 
 tian perfeftion, as to fuppofe, that all fick men defire to 
 be reftored to perfect health; yet experience ihews us, 
 that nothing wants more to be prefled, repeated and for- 
 ced upon minds, than the plained rules of Chrillianity. 
 Voluntary poverty,virginity, and devout retirement, have 
 been here recommended, as things not neceflary, yet 
 highly beneficial to thofe that would make the way to 
 perfection the moft eafy and certain. But Chriftian per- 
 fe£lion itfelf is tied to no particular form of life ; but is 
 to be attained, though not with the fame eafe, in every 
 ftate of life. This has been fully afierted in another 
 place j where it has been lliewn that Chriftian perfec- 
 tion calls no one (neceflarily) to a cloyfter, but to the 
 full performance of thofe duties, which are neceflary for 
 all Chriftians, and common to all ftates of life. Chrift. 
 PerfecSl:. p2. Sothat the whole of the matteris plainly this: 
 Virginity, voluntary poverty, and fuch other reftraints 
 of lawful things, are not neceflary to Chriftian perfec- 
 tion; but are much to be commended in thofe, who 
 chufe them as helps and means of a more fafe and fpeedy 
 arrival at it. It is only in this iVianner, ^nd in this fenfe, 
 
 that 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 333 
 
 that I would recommend any particularity of life; not 
 as if perfection confided in it, but becaufe of its great 
 tendency to produce and fupport the true fpirit of Chrif- 
 tian perfection. But the thing which is here preffed up- 
 on all, is, a life of great and flriCl devotion ; which, I 
 think, has been fuihciently Ihewn to be equally the duty 
 and happinefs of all orders of men. Neither is there any 
 thing in any particular itate of life, that can bejuftly 
 pleaded as a-reafon for any abatement of a devout fpirit* 
 But becaufe in this polite age of ours, we have fo 
 lived away the fpirit of devotion, that many feem afraid 
 even to be fufpeCted of it, imagining great devotion to 
 be great bigotry j that is founded in ignorance and poor- 
 nefs of fpirit, and that little, weak, and dcjeCted minds, 
 are generally the greateft proficients in it : It ihall here 
 be fully fliewn, that great devotion is the nobied temper 
 of the greateft and nobleft fouls ; and that they who 
 think it receives any advantage from ignorance and poor- 
 nefs of fpirit, are themfelves not a little, but entirely ig- 
 norant oi the nature of devotion, the nature of God, and 
 the nature of themfelves. 
 
 People of fine parts and learning, or of great know- 
 ledge in worldly matters, may perhaps think it hard to 
 have their want of devotion charged upon their igno- 
 rance. But if they will be content to be tried by reafon 
 and fcripture, it may foon be made appear, that a want 
 of devotion, where-ever it is, either amongft the learned 
 or unlearned, is founded in grofs ignorance, and the 
 greatell blindnefs and infenfibility that can happen to a 
 rational creature. And that devotion is fo far from being 
 the effeCl of a little and dejeCted mind, that it muft and 
 will be always higheit in the moft perfeCt natures. And 
 firft. Who reckons it a fign of a poor, little mind, for a 
 man to be full of reverence and duty to his parents, to 
 have the trueil love and honour for his friend, or to ex- 
 cel in the higheil inftances of gratitude to his benefac- 
 tor ? Are not thefe tempers in the higheft degree in the 
 moft exalted and perfect mands ? And yet what is high 
 devotion, but the higheft exercife of thefe tempers, of 
 duty, reverence, love, honour, and gratitude to the ami- 
 able, glorious parent, friend, and benefactor of all man* 
 kiudj Is it a true greatnefs of mind, to reverence the 
 
 authority 
 
8S4 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 authority of your parents, to fear the difpleafure of your 
 friend, to dread the reproaches of your benefadtor ? and 
 muft not this fear and dread, and reverence, be much 
 more juft and reafonable, and honourable, when they are 
 in the higheft degree towards God ? Now as the higher 
 thefe tempers are, the more are they efteemed amongft 
 men, and are allowed to be fo much the greater proofs 
 of a true greatnefs of mind ; fo the higher and greater 
 thefe fame tempers are towards God, fo much the more 
 do they prove the nobility, excellence, and greatnefs of 
 the mind. So that fo long as duty to parents, love to 
 friends, and gratitude to benefactors, are thought great 
 and honourable 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 goodnefs ihould fend you 
 a pardon by one of his flaves, would you not think it a 
 part of your duty to receive the flave with marks of love, 
 efteem, and gratitude for his great kindnefs, in bring- 
 ing you fo great a gift; and at the fame time think it a 
 meannefs and poornefs of fpirit, to fliew love, efteem, 
 and gratitude to the Prince, who of his ov/n goodnefs 
 freely fen t you the pardon? And yet this would be as 
 reafonable, as to fuppofe that lore, efteem, honour, ancf 
 gratitude, are noble tempers, and inftances of a great 
 foul, when they are paid to our fellow-creatures; but the 
 effects of a poor, ignorant dejeCled mind, when they are 
 paid to God. 
 
 Farther ; That part of devotion which exprelTes itfelf 
 in forrowful confeffion, and penitential tears of a broken 
 and contrite heart, is very far from being any fign of a 
 little and ignorant mind. For who does not acknowledge 
 it an inftance of an ingenuous, generous, and brave mind, 
 to acknowledge a fault, and afk pardon for any offence? 
 And are not the fineit and molt improved minds, the 
 rnoft remarkable for this excellent temper ? Is it not alfo 
 allowed, that the ingenuity and excellence of a man's 
 fpirit is much fhewn when his forrow and indignation 
 at himfelf riles in proportion to the folly of his crime, 
 and the goodnefs and greatnefs of the perfon he has of- 
 fended ? Now if things are thus, then the greater any 
 man's mind is, the more he knows of God and himfelf, 
 
 the 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. S35 
 
 the more will he be difpofed to proflrate himfelf before 
 God in all the humbled a£ls and expreffions of repen- 
 tance. And the greater the ingenuity, the generolity, 
 judgment, and penetration of his mind is, the more will 
 he exercife and indulge a paflionate, tender fenfe of 
 God's juii difpieafure •, and the more he knows of the 
 greatnefs, the goodnefs, and perfection of the divine na- 
 ture, the fuller of fhame and confufion will he be at his 
 own fins and ingratitude. And on the other hand, the 
 more dull and ignorant any foul is, the more bafe and 
 ungenerous it naturally is, the more fenfelefs it is of tl^e 
 goodnefs and purity of God-, (o much the more averfe 
 will it be to all a£ts of humble confefTion and repen- 
 tance. 
 
 Devotion therefore is fo far from being befl fuited to 
 little ignorant minds, that a true elevation of foul, a 
 lively fenfe of honour, and great knowledge of God and 
 ourfelves, are the greatell natural helps that our devotion 
 hath. 
 
 And on the other hand, it fhall hear be made appear 
 by variety of arguments, that indevotion is founded in 
 the moft exceflive ignorance. 
 
 And, i'Vr,/?, Our blefled Lord, and his apollles, were 
 emiinent initances of great and frequent devotion. Now 
 if we v/ill grant, (as ail chridians mud 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 devotion, are in this exceffive date of ig- 
 norance, they neither know God, nor themfelves, nor 
 devotion. For if a right knowledge in thefe three re- 
 fpedls, produces great devotion, as in the cafe of our 
 Saviour and his apodles, then a neglect of devotion mud 
 be chargeable upon ignorance. 
 
 Again; How comes it that mod people have recourfe 
 to devotion, when they are in ficknefs, didrefs> or fear 
 of death ? Is it not becaufe this date fliews them more 
 of the want of God, and their own weaknefs, than they 
 perceive at other times ? Is it not becaufe their infir- 
 mities, their approaching end convinces them of fome- 
 thing, which they did not half perceive before ? Now 
 if devotion at thefe feafons, is the efrect of a better know- 
 ledge 
 
SS6 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ledge of God, and ourfelves, then the neglefb of devotion 
 at other times, is always owing to great ignorance of 
 God and ourfelves. 
 
 Farther; As indevotion is ignorance, fo it is the mod 
 fliameful ignorance, and fuch as is to be charged with 
 the greateil folly. This will fully appear to any one 
 that confiders, by what rules we are to judge of the ex- 
 cellency of any knowledge, or the ikamefulnefs of any 
 ignorance. Now knowledge itfelf M^ould be no excel- 
 lence, nor ignorance any reproach to us, but that we 
 are rational creatures. But if this be true, then it fol- 
 lows plainly, that that knowledge which is moft fuitable 
 to our rational nature, and which moft concerns us, as 
 fuch to know, is our highelt, fineil knowledge; and 
 that ignorance which relates to things that are moil ef- 
 fential to us, as rational creatures, and which we are moft 
 concerned to know, is, of all others, the moft grofs and 
 fhameful ignorance. If therefore there be any things 
 that concern us more than others, if there be any truths 
 that are more to us than all ochers, he that has the fulleft 
 knowledge of thefe things, that fees thefe truths in the 
 cleareft, ftrongeft light, has, of ail others, as a rational 
 creature, the cleareft underftanding, and the ftrongeft 
 parts. If therefore our relation to God, be our greateft 
 relation, if our advancement in his favour be our higheft 
 advancement, he that has the higheft notions of the 
 excellence of this relation, he that moft ftrongly per- 
 ceives the higheft worth, and great value of holineis 
 and virtue, that judges every thing little, when com- 
 pared with it, proves himfelf to be mailer of the beft, 
 and moft excellent knov/ledge. If a judge had fine 
 fkill in painting, architecture, and mufic, but at the 
 fame time had grofs and confufed notions of equity, 
 and a poor, dull apprehenfion of the value of juftice, 
 who would fcruple to reckon him a poor ignorant judge.'' 
 If a biQiop fliould be a man of great addrefs and ikill 
 in the arts of preferment, and underftanding how to 
 raife and enrich his family in the v/orld, but ftiould have 
 no tafte or fenfe of the maxims and principles of the 
 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 crucified to the world, than to 
 
 live 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 33? 
 
 Jive idly in pomp and fplendor, who would fcruple to 
 charge fuch a bifliop with want of underdanduig ? If 
 we do not judge, and pronounce after this manner, our 
 reafon and judgment are but empty founds. But now, 
 if a judge is to be reckoned ignorant, if he does not 
 feel or perceive the value and worth of juflice ; if a bi- 
 iliop is to be looked upon as void of underftanding, if 
 he is more experienced in other things, than in the ex- 
 alted virtues of his apoilolical calling ; than all common 
 chriftiains are to be looked upon as more or lefs know- 
 ing, accordingly as they know more or lefs of thofe 
 great things, which are the common and greatefl con- 
 cern of all Chriltians. If a gentleman fhould fancy that 
 the Moon is no bigger than it appears to the eye^ that 
 it fliines with its own light, that ail the Stars are only fo 
 many fpots of light ; if after reading books of Aflrono- 
 my, he (hould ilill continue in the fame opinion, moft 
 people would think he had but a poor apprelienfion. 
 But if the fame perfon fhould think it better to provide 
 for a fhort life here, than to prepare for a glorious eter- 
 nity hereafter, that it was better to be rich than to be e- 
 minent in piety, his ignorance and dulnefs would be too 
 great to be compared to any thing elfe. 
 
 There is no knowledge that deferves fo much as the 
 name of it, but that which we call judgment. And that 
 is the moit clear and improved underftanding, which 
 judges bell of the value and worth of things, all the 
 reft is but the capacity of an animal, is but mere feeing 
 and hearing. 
 
 And there is no excellence of any knowledge in us, 
 till we exercife our judgment, and judge well of the va- 
 lue 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 difcern any tiling that was ferviceable to him, we 
 fliould reckon that he had but a very bad light. If ano- 
 ther had ears that received founds from the world in the 
 Moon, but could hear nothing that was done upon earth, 
 we fhould look upon him to be as bad 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 iharp and acute in arts 
 and fciences, or an imagination that can wander agree- 
 ably 
 
338 A S^ERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 ably in fictions, but h^s a dull, poor apprehenfion of his 
 duty and relation to God, of the value of piety, or the 
 worth of moral virtue, he may very juflly be reckoned 
 to have a bad underftanding. He is but like the man that 
 can only fee and hear fuch things as are of no benefit 
 to him. As certain therefore as piety, virtue, and eter- 
 nal happinefs are of the molt concern to man, as certain 
 as the immortality of our nature, and relation to God, 
 iire the moft glorious circumftances of our nature, fo 
 certain is it, that lie who dwells moft in contemplation 
 of them, whofe heart is moft affe£led with them, who 
 fees fartheft into them, who beft comprehends the va- 
 lue and excellency of them, who judges all worldly at- 
 tainments to be mere bubbles and fliadows, in compari- 
 fon of them, proves himfelf to have of all others the fi- 
 neft underftanding, and the ftrongeft judgment. And 
 if we do not reafon after this manner, or allow this me- 
 thod of reafoning, we have no arguments to prove, that 
 there is any fuch thing as a wife man, or a fool. For a 
 man is proved to be a natural, not becaufe he wants any 
 of his fenfes, or is incapable of every thing, but becaufe 
 he has no iudgment, and is entirely ignorant of the 
 worth and value of things, he will perhaps chufe a fine 
 coat rather than a large eftate. And as the eflence of 
 ftupidity confifts in the entire want of judgment, in an 
 ignorance of the value of things j fo on the other hand, 
 the eflence of wifdom and knowledge muft confift in the 
 excellency of our judgment, or in the knowledge of 
 the v/orth and value of things. This therefore is an un- 
 deniable proof, that he who knows moft of the value of 
 the bell 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 perfedlion, than the great- 
 eft fliare of v/orldly happinefs, has the higheft wifdom, 
 and is at the fartheft diftance from men that are naturals, 
 that any knowledge can place him. On the other hand, 
 lie that can talk the learned languages, and repeat a great 
 deal of Hiftory, but prefers the indulgence of his body 
 to the purity and perfe<Slion of his foul, who is more 
 concerned to get a name, or an eftate here, than to live 
 in eternal glory hereafter, is in the neareft ftate to that 
 natural, who chufes a painted coat, rather than a large 
 
 eftate* 
 
DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. 339 
 
 eftate. He is. not called a natural by men, but he muft 
 appear to God, and heavenly beings, as in a more excef- 
 five flate of ftupidity, and will fooner 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 Ihewing 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 wife, but by fliewing that he has the fulled know- 
 ledge of things that are his greateft good, and his great- 
 eft evil. If therefore God be our greateft good ; if 
 there can be no good but in his favour, nor any evil but 
 in departing from him, than it is plain, that he who 
 judges it the beft thing he can do to pleafe God to the 
 utmoft of his power, who worftiips and adores him with 
 all his heart and foul, who had rather have a pious mind 
 than all the dignities and honours in the world, {hews 
 himfelf to be in the higheft ftate of human wifdom. 
 
 To proceed ; We know how our blefled Lord a£led 
 in an human body; it was his meat and dnnk to do the 
 nvill of his Father ivhich is in heaven. And if any num- 
 , ber of heavenly fpirits were to leave their habitations 
 i in the light of God, and be for a while united to human 
 bodies, they would certainly tend towards God in all 
 their anions, and be as heavenly as they could, in a 
 ftate of ficfli and blood. 
 
 They would certainly a£l in this manner, becaufe they 
 v/ould know that God was the only good of all fpirits ; 
 and that whether they were in the body or out of the 
 body, in heaven or on earth, they mull have every de- 
 gree of their greatnefs and happinefs from God alone. 
 All human fpirits therefore, the more exalted they are, 
 tlie more they know their divine original, the nearer 
 they come to heavenly fpirits, by fo much the more will 
 they live to God in all their aflions, and make their whole 
 Kfe a ftate of devotion. Devotion therefore is the great- 
 eft fign of a great and noble genius, it fuppofes a foul in 
 its higheft ftate of knowledge; and none but little and 
 blinded minds, that are funk into ignorance and vanity, 
 are deliitute of it. 
 
 ?If an human fpirit ftiould imagine fome mighty Prince 
 to be greater than God, we fhoul4 take it for a poor, ig- 
 ( norant 
 
34-0 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 norant creature ; all people would acknowledge fuch an 
 Imagination to be the height of ftupidity. But if this 
 fame human fpirit fhould think it better to be devoted to 
 fome mighty Prince, than to be devoted to God, would 
 not this ftiil be a greater proof of a poor, ignorant, and 
 blinded nature ? Yet this is what all people do, who 
 think any thing better, greater, or wifer than a devout 
 life. So that which way foever we confider this mat- 
 ter, it plainly appears, that devotion is an inftance of 
 great judgment, of an elevated nature ; and the want of 
 devotion is a certain proof of the want of underitanding. 
 The greateft fpirits of the heathen world, fuch as Phy- 
 thagoras, Socrates, Plato, Epiftetus, Marcus, Antoni- 
 TiUS, &c. owed all their greatnefs to the fpirit of devotion. 
 They were full of God j their wifdom and deep contem- 
 plations tended only to deliver men from the vanity of 
 the world, the llavery of bodily pafTions, that tliey might 
 acl as fpirits that came from God, and were foon to re- 
 turn to him. 
 
 Again ; To fee the dignity and greatnefs of a devout 
 fpirit, we need only compare it with other tempers that 
 are chofen 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 liijl of the jlejhy the lujl of the eyes, and the pride of life. 
 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 pleafures of the 
 body ; furely this can be no fign of a fine m.ind, or an 
 excellent fpirit ; For if he has but the temper of an ani- 
 mal, he is great enough for thefe enjoyments. Let us 
 fuppofe him to be devoted to honours and fplendours, to 
 be fond of glitter and equipage ; now if this temper re- 
 quired any great parts or fine underitanding to make a 
 man capable of it, i t would prove the world to abound 
 with great wits. Let us fuppofe him to be in love with 
 riches, and to be fo eager in the purfuit of them, as ne- 
 ver to think he has enough; now this paffion is fo far 
 from fuppofing any excellent fenfe, or great under- 
 itanding, that blindnefs and folly are the belt fupports 
 that it hath. Let us laftly fuppofe him in another light, 
 not fingly devoted to any of thefe paflions, but as it 
 moftly happens, governed by all of them in their turns ; 
 
 does 
 
DEVOUT AND KOLY LIFE. 341 
 
 does this Tnew a more exalted nature, than to ii'^end 
 his days in the fervice of any one of them ? For to have 
 a tafte for thefe things, and to be devoted to them, is fo 
 far from arguing any tolerable parts or under (landing, 
 that they are fuited to the dulleft, weakeft minds, and rt^- 
 quire only a great deal of pride and folly to be greatly 
 admired. But now let Libertines bring any fuch charge 
 as this if they can, againft devotion. They may as 
 well endeavour to charge light with every thing that be- 
 longs to darknefs. Let them but grant that there is a 
 God, and Providence, and then they have granted enough 
 to juftify the wifdom, and fupport the honour of devo- 
 tion. For if there is an infmitely wife and good crca-= 
 ture, in whom we live, mxove and have our being, whofe 
 providence governs all things in all places, furely it m.uil 
 be the highell acl of our underftanding to conceive; 
 rightly of him ; it muft be the nobleft inftance of judg- 
 ment, the moft exalted temper of our nature, to worfliip 
 and adore this univerfal providence, to conform to its 
 laws, to {ludy its wifdom, and to live and acl every 
 where, as in the prefence of this infinitely good and 
 wife Creator. Now he that lives thus, lives in the fpirit 
 of devotion. And what can fhew 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 moft conforms to the wifdom of God^ 
 who beft obeys his providence, who enters fartheft 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 reafon ; he fees through the 
 vanity of the world, difcovers the corruption of his na- 
 ture, and the blindnefs of his paffions. He lives by a 
 law which is not vifible to vulgar eyes; he enters inta 
 the world of fpirits *, he compares the greateft things,, 
 lets eternity againft time ; and chufes rather to be for 
 ever great in the prefence 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 great thoughts; 
 he lives upon thefe noble reflections, and conducts him- 
 felf by rules and principles, which can only be appre- 
 hended, admired and loved by reafon. There is nothing 
 therefore that (hews fo great a genius, nothing that fo 
 
 P raifes 
 
342 A SERIOUS CALL TO A 
 
 raifes us above vulgar fpirits, nothing that fo plainly de- 
 clares an heroic greatnefs of mind, as great devotion. 
 \Yhen you fuppofe a man to be a faint, or all devotion, 
 you have raifed him as much above all other conditions 
 of life, as a Philofopher is above an animal. 
 
 Laflly, Courage and bravery are words of a great 
 found, and feem to fignify an heroic fpirit ; but yet hu- 
 mility^ which feems to be the lowed, meaneft part of 
 devotion, is a m.ore certain argument of a noble and 
 courageous mind. For humility contends with greater^ 
 'enemiee, is more conflantly engaged, more violently 
 alTliuIted, bears more, fufFers more, and requires greater 
 courage to fupport itfelf, than any Inftances of worldly 
 bravery. A man that dares be poor and contemptible 
 -in the eyes of the v/orld, to approve himfelf to God j that 
 refifts and reje^ls all human glory, that oppofes the cla- 
 mour of his paflions, that meekly puts up all injuries 
 and wrongs, and dares ftay for his reward till the invifi- 
 ble hand of God gives to every one their proper places, 
 endures a much greater trial, and exerts a nobler forti- 
 tude, than he that is bold and daring in the fire of battle. 
 For the boldnefs of a foidier, if he is a ftranger to the 
 fpirit of devotion, is rather v/eaknefs than fortitude; it 
 is at beft but mad paflion, and heated fpirits, and has no 
 more true valour in it than the fury of a 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 actions that are not 
 diredled by the laws of God, or fo many executions of 
 his will, are no more true bravery, than fedate malice is 
 Chriftian patience. 
 
 Reafon is our univerfal law, that obliges us in all 
 places, and at all times; and no aftions have any honour, 
 but fo far as they are inftances of our obedience to rea- 
 fan. And it Is as bafe and cowardly, to be bold and da- 
 ring againft the principle of reafon and juftice, as to be 
 bold and daring in lying and perjury. 
 
 Would we therefore exercife a true fortitude, we muft 
 do all in tlie fpirit of devotion, be valiant againft the cor- 
 ruptions of the world, and the lufts of the flefh, and the 
 temptations of the devil ; for to be daring and courage- 
 ous againft thefe enemies, is the nobleft bravery that an 
 human mind is capable of. 
 
 I have 
 
DEVOUT And ttOLY LIFE. • 3,43 
 
 I have made this digreffion, for the fake ofthofe, who 
 think a great devotion to be bigotry and poornefs of 
 fpirit ; that by thefe confiderations they may fee, how- 
 poor, and mean all other tempers are, if compared to it. 
 That they may fee, that all worldly attainments, whe- 
 ther of greatnefs, wifdom or bravery, are but empty 
 founds ; and there is nothing wife or great, or noble, in 
 an human fpirit, but rightly to know, and heartily wor- 
 fhip and adore the great God, that is the fupport an4 
 life of all fpirits, whether in heaven or on eardi. , 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 n. niCIlARDSON PIUNTEO, BERWICK, 
 
Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 
 
 1012 01329 6985