THE WORKS OF THE Rev. JOHN WESLEY




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               THE WORKS OF THE Rev. JOHN WESLEY, M.A.

              Late Fellow of _Lincoln-College_, OXFORD.


                              VOLUME IV.


                               BRISTOL:


              Printed by WILLIAM PINE, in _Wine-Street_
                              MDCCLXXI.




                                 THE
                               CONTENTS
                        Of the FOURTH VOLUME.

                    SERMONS on several Occasions.


                            SERMON XLVIII.

                           On Self-denial.

  Luke ix. 23. _And he said to them all, If any man will come
    after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily,
    and follow me._


                             SERMON XLIX.

                      The Cure of Evil-speaking.

  Matt. xviii. 15, 16, 17. _If thy brother shall sin against thee,
    go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he
    will hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother._

  _But if he will not hear, take with thee one or two more, that
    by the mouth of two or three witnesses, every word may be
    established._

  _And if he will not hear them, tell it to the church: but if he
    will not hear the church, let him be to thee as an Heathen
    man and a Publican._


                              SERMON L.

                          The Use of Money.

  Luke xvi. 9. _I say unto you, make unto yourselves friends of
    the mammon of righteousness, that when ye fail, they may
    receive you into the everlasting habitations._


                              SERMON LI.

                          The Good Steward.

  Luke xvi. 2. _Give an account of thy stewardship: for thou canst
    be no longer steward._


                             SERMON LII.

               Preached before the Reformation Society.

  Psalm xciv. 16. _Who will rise up with me against the wicked?_


                             SERMON LIII.

           On the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield.

  Numb. xxiii. 10. _Let me die the death of the righteous, and
    let my last end be like his!_


              Advice to the People called _Methodists_,

  With regard to _dress_.


                  The Duties of Husbands and Wives.

                               CHAP. I.

  _The first duties of the married, Chastity._

                              CHAP. II.

  _Of the Love of married persons._

                              CHAP. III.

  _Of the effects of love._

                              CHAP. IV.

  _Of the duties of the married to their family._

                               CHAP. V.

  _Of a man’s keeping his authority._

                              CHAP. VI.

  _Of the wife’s peculiar duties._

                              CHAP. VII.

  _Some application of the whole._

  Directions to children.

  Directions to servants.


                An extract from Mr. LAW’s treatise on
                       _Christian Perfection_.

                               CHAP. I.

  _Several important considerations and directions._

                              CHAP. II.

  _Christianity requires a renouncing of the world, and all
    worldly tempers._

                              CHAP. III.

  _Christianity calleth all men to a state of self-denial and
    mortification._

                              CHAP. IV.

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

                               CHAP. V.

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




                            SERMON XLVIII.

                             SELF-DENIAL.


                             LUKE ix. 23.

  _And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let
    him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me._

1. IT has been frequently imagined, that the direction here given,
related chiefly, if not wholly to the apostles: at least to the
Christians of the first ages, or those in a state of persecution.
But this is a grievous mistake: for although our blessed Lord is here
directing his discourse more immediately to his apostles, and those
other disciples who attended him in the days of his flesh, yet in
them he speaks to us, and to all mankind, without any exception or
limitation. The very reason of the thing puts it beyond dispute, that
the duty which is here enjoined, is not peculiar to them, or to the
Christians of the early ages. It no more regards any particular order
of men, or particular time, than any particular country. No: it is of
the most universal nature, respecting all times and all persons. Yea,
and all things: not meats and drinks only, and things pertaining to
the senses. The meaning is, _If any man_, of whatever rank, station,
circumstances, in any nation, in any age of the world, _will_
effectually come after me, _let him deny himself in all things: let
him take up his cross_, of whatever kind, yea and that _daily, and
follow me_.

2. The _denying_ ourselves and the _taking up our cross_, in the full
extent of the expression, is not a thing of small concern: it is not
expedient only, as are some of the circumstantials of religion; but
it is absolutely, indispensably necessary, either to our becoming,
or continuing _his disciples_. It is absolutely necessary, in the
very nature of the thing, to our _coming after him_ and _following
him_. Insomuch that as far as we do not practise it, we are not _his
disciples_. If we do not continually _deny ourselves_, we do not learn
of him, but of other masters. If we do not _take up our cross daily_,
we do not _come after him_: but after the world, or the prince of the
world, or our own _fleshly mind_. If we are not walking in the way
of the cross, we are not _following_ him; we are not treading in his
steps, but going back from, or at least wide of him.

3. It is for this reason that so many ministers of Christ, in almost
every age and nation, particularly since the reformation of the
church from the innovations and corruptions gradually crept into
it, have wrote and spoke so largely on this important duty, both in
their public discourses and private exhortations. This induced them
to disperse abroad many tracts upon the subject; and some in our own
nation. They knew both from the oracles of God, and from the testimony
of their own experience, how impossible it was not to deny our master,
unless we will deny ourselves: and how vainly we attempt to follow him
that was crucified, unless we take up our own cross daily.

4. But may not this very consideration make it reasonable to enquire,
If so much has been said and wrote on the subject already, what
need is there to say or write any more? I answer, there are no
inconsiderable numbers, even of people fearing God, who have not had
the opportunity either of hearing what has been spoke, or reading what
has been wrote upon it. And perhaps if they had read much of what has
been written, they would not have been much profited. Many who have
wrote, (some of them large volumes) do by no means appear to have
understood the subject. Either they had imperfect views of the very
nature of it (and then they could never explain it to others) or they
were unacquainted with the due extent of it; they did not see how
_exceeding broad_ this command is: or they were not sensible of the
absolute, the indispensable necessity of it. Others speak of it in
so dark, so perplext, so intricate, so mystical a manner, as if they
designed rather to conceal it from the vulgar, than to explain it
to common readers. Others speak admirably well, with great clearness
and strength, on the necessity of self-denial; but then they deal in
generals only, without coming to particular instances, and so are of
little use to the bulk of mankind, to men of ordinary capacity and
education. And if some of them do descend to particulars, it is to
those particulars only, which do not affect the generality of men,
since they seldom, if ever, occur in common life: such as the enduring
imprisonment or tortures: the giving up, in a literal sense, their
houses or lands, their husbands or wives, children, or life itself: to
none of which we are called, nor are likely to be, unless God should
permit times of public persecution to return. In the mean time, I know
of no writer in the _English_ tongue, who has described the nature of
self-denial, in plain and intelligible terms, such as lie level with
common understandings, and applied it to those little particulars,
which daily occur in common life. A discourse of this kind is wanted
still: and it is wanted the more, because in every stage of the
spiritual life, altho’ there is a variety of particular hindrances,
of our attaining grace or growing therein, yet are all resolvible into
these general ones, either we do not deny ourselves, or we do not take
up our cross.

In order to supply this defect in some degree, I shall endeavour to
shew, first, What it is for a man to deny himself, and what to take up
his cross: and secondly, That if a man be not fully Christ’s disciple,
it is always owing to the want of this.

I. 1. I shall, first, endeavour to shew, What it is for a man, to
_deny himself and take up his cross daily_. This is a point which
is of all others most necessary to be considered, and throughly
understood, even on this account, that it is of all others most
opposed, by numerous and powerful enemies. All our nature must
certainly rise up against this, even in its own defence: the world
consequently, the men who take nature not grace for their guide, abhor
the very sound of it. And the great enemy of our souls, well knowing
its importance, cannot but move every stone against it. But this is
not all: even those who have in some measure shaken off the yoke of
the devil, who have experienced, especially of late years, a real work
of grace in their hearts, yet are no friends to this grand doctrine
of Christianity, tho’ it is so peculiarly insisted on by their master.
Some of them are as deeply and totally ignorant concerning it, as if
there was not one word about it in the bible. Others are farther off
still, having unawares imbibed strong prejudices against it. These
they have received partly from outside Christians; men of a fair
speech and behaviour, who want nothing of godliness, but the power,
nothing of religion, but the spirit: and partly from those who did
once, if they do not now, _taste of the powers of the world to come_.
But are there any of these who do not both practise self-denial
themselves and recommend it to others? You are little acquainted with
mankind, if you doubt of this. There are whole bodies of men who only
do not declare war against it. To go no farther than _London_. Look
upon the whole body of _Predestinarians_, who by the free mercy of
God, have lately been called out of the darkness of nature, into the
light of faith. Are they patterns of self-denial? How few of them even
profess to practise it at all! How few of them recommend it themselves,
or are pleased with them that do? Rather do they not continually
represent it in the most odious colours? As if it were seeking
_salvation by works_, or _seeking to establish our own righteousness_?
And how readily do _Antinomians_ of all kinds, from the smooth
_Moravian_, to the boistrous, foul-mouthed _Ranter_, join the cry,
with their silly, unmeaning cant, of _legality_, and _preaching the
law_? Therefore you are in constant danger of being wheedled, hectored,
or ridiculed out of this important gospel-doctrine, either by false
teachers or false brethren; (more or less beguiled from the simplicity
of the gospel) if you are not deeply grounded therein. Let fervent
prayer then go before, accompany, and follow, what you are now about
to read, that it may be written in your heart by the finger of God, so
as never to be erased.

2. But what is self-denial? Wherein are we to deny ourselves? And
whence does the necessity of this arise? I answer, the will of God is
the supreme, unalterable rule for every intelligent creature: equally
binding every angel in heaven, and every man upon earth. Nor can it
be otherwise: this is the natural, necessary result of the relation
between creatures and their Creator. But if the will of God be our
one rule of action, in every thing, great and small, it follows by
undeniable consequence, that we are not to do our own will in any
thing. Here therefore we see at once the nature, with the ground and
reason of self-denial. We see the nature of self-denial: it is the
denying or refusing to follow our own will, from a conviction that the
will of God is the only rule of action to us. And we see the reason
thereof, because we are creatures; because _it is he that hath made
us and not ourselves_.

3. This reason for self-denial must hold, even with regard to the
angels of God in heaven: and with regard to man, innocent and holy, as
he came out of the hands of his Creator. But a farther reason for it
arises, from the condition wherein all men are since the fall. We are
all now _shapen in wickedness, and in sin did our mother conceive us_.
Our nature is altogether corrupt, in every power and faculty. And our
will, depraved equally with the rest, is wholly bent to indulge our
natural corruption. On the other hand, it is the will of God, that we
resist and counter-act that corruption, not at some times, or in some
things only, but at all times, and in all things. Here therefore is a
farther ground for constant and universal self-denial.

4. To illustrate this a little further. The will of God is a path
leading straight to God. The will of man which once ran parallel
with it, is now another path, not only different from it, but in our
present state directly contrary to it. It leads from God; if therefore
we walk in the one, we must necessarily quit the other. We cannot walk
in both. Indeed a man _of faint heart and feeble hands_, may _go in
two ways_, one after the other. But he cannot walk in two ways at
the same time: he cannot at one and the same time, follow his own
will, and follow the will of God; he must chuse the one or the other:
denying God’s will, to follow his one, or deny himself, to follow the
will of God.

5. Now it is undoubtedly pleasing for the time, to follow our own
will, by indulging in any instance that offers, the corruption of our
nature. But the following it in any thing, we so far strengthen the
perverseness of our will: and by indulging it, we continually increase
the corruption of our nature. So by the food which is agreeable to the
palate we often increase a bodily disease. It gratifies the taste; but
it inflames the disorder. It brings pleasure: but it also brings death.

6. On the whole then, to deny ourselves is, to deny our own will,
where it does not fall in with the will of God, and that, however
pleasing it may be: it is, to deny ourselves any pleasure which does
not spring from, and lead to God: that is, in effect to refuse going
out of our way, though into a pleasant, flowry path: to refuse what
we know to be deadly poison, though agreeable to the taste.

7. And every one that would follow Christ, that would be his real
disciple, must not only _deny himself_, but _take up his cross_ also.
A cross is, any thing contrary to our will, any thing displeasing to
our nature. So that taking up our cross goes a little farther than
denying ourselves: it rises a little higher, and is a more difficult
task to flesh and blood: it being more easy, to forego pleasure, than
to endure pain.

8. Now in _running the race which is set before us_, according to
the will of God, there is often a cross lying in the way, that is,
something which is not joyous, but grievous, something which is
contrary to our will, which is displeasing to our nature. What then is
to be done? The choice is plain; either we must _take up our cross_,
or we must turn aside from the way of God, _from the holy commandment
delivered to us_: if we do not stop altogether, or turn back to
everlasting perdition.

9. In order to the healing of that corruption that evil disease which
every man brings with him into the world, it is often needful, to
pluck out as it were a right-eye, to cut off a right-hand: so painful
is either the thing itself which must be done, or the only means
of doing it: the parting, suppose with a foolish desire, with an
inordinate affection: or a separation, from the object of it, without
which it can never be extinguished. In the former kind, the tearing
away such a desire or affection, when it is deeply rooted in the soul,
is often like the piercing of a sword, yea, like _the dividing asunder
of the soul and spirit, the joints and marrow_. The Lord then _sits
upon_ the soul _as a refiner’s fire_, to burn up all the dross thereof.
And this is a cross indeed: it is essentially painful: it must be so
in the very nature of the thing. The soul cannot be thus torn asunder,
it cannot pass through the fire, without pain.

10. In the latter kind, the means to heal a sin-sick soul, to cure a
foolish desire, an inordinate affection, are often painful, not in the
nature of the thing, but from the nature of the disease. So when our
Lord said to the rich young man, _Go sell that thou hast and give it
to the poor_, (as well knowing, this was the only means of healing his
covetousness) the very thought of it gave him so much pain, that he
_went away sorrowful_: chusing rather to part with his hope of heaven,
than his possessions on earth. This was a burden he could not consent
to lift, a cross he would not take up. And in the one kind or the
other every follower of Christ will surely have need to _take up his
cross daily_.

11. The _taking up_ differs a little from _bearing his cross_. We are
then properly said to _bear our cross_, when we endure what is laid
upon us without our choice, with meekness and resignation. Whereas we
do not properly _take up our cross_, but when we voluntarily suffer
what it is in our power to avoid: when we willingly embrace the will
of God, though contrary to our own: when we chuse what is painful,
because it is the will of our wise and gracious Creator.

12. And thus it behoves every disciple of Christ, to _take up_, as
well as to _bear_ his _cross_. Indeed in one sense, it is not _his_
alone; it is common to him and many others: seeing _there is no
temptation befals any man_ εἰ μή ἀνθρώπινος· _but such as is common
to men_, such as is incident and adapted to their common nature,
and situation in the present world. But in another sense, as it
is considered with all its circumstances, it is _his_; peculiar to
himself: it is prepared of God for him: it is given by God to him, as
a token of his love: and if he receives it as such, and (after using
such means to remove the pressure as Christian wisdom directs) lies
as clay in the Potter’s hand, it is disposed and ordered by God for
his good, both with regard to the quality of it, and in respect to its
quantity and degree, its duration, and every other circumstance.

13. In all this we may easily conceive our blessed Lord to act as the
physician of our souls, not merely _for his own pleasure, but for our
profit that we may be partakers of his holiness_. If in searching our
wounds he puts us to pain, it is only in order to heal them. He cuts
away what is putrified or unsound, in order to preserve the sound part.
And if we freely chuse the loss of a limb, rather than the whole body
should perish, how much more should we chuse, figuratively, to cut off
a right-hand, rather than the whole soul should be cast into hell?

14. We see plainly then both the nature and ground, of _taking up
our cross_. It does not imply the ♦_disciplining ourselves_ (as some
speak) the literally tearing our own flesh: the wearing haircloth, or
iron girdles, or any thing else that would impair our bodily health:
(although we know not what allowance God may make for those, who acts
thus through involuntary ignorance:) but the embracing the will of
God, tho’ contrary to our own; the chusing wholesome, tho’ bitter,
medicines: the freely accepting temporary pain, of whatever kind, and
in whatever degree, when it is either essentially or accidentally
necessary to eternal pleasure.

    ♦ ‘discipling’ replaced with ‘disciplining’


II. 1. I am, secondly, to shew, that it is always owing to the want
either of self-denial, or taking up his cross, that any man does not
throughly _follow him_, is not fully a _disciple of_ Christ.

It is true, this may be partly owing in some cases, to the want of the
means of grace: of hearing the true word of God spoken with power, of
the sacraments, or of Christian fellowship. But where none of these is
wanting, the great hindrance of our receiving or growing in the grace
of God, is always the want of denying ourselves, or taking up our
cross.

2. A few instances will make this plain. A man hears the word which
is able to save his soul. He is well pleased with what he hears,
acknowledges the truth, and is a little affected by it. Yet he remains
_dead in trespasses and sins_, senseless and unawakened. Why is this?
Because he will not part with his bosom-sin, tho’ he now knows it is
an abomination unto the Lord. He came to hear, full of lust and unholy
desire: and he will not part with them. Therefore no deep impression
is made upon him, but his foolish heart is still hardened: that is, he
is still senseless and unawakened, because he will not _deny himself_.

3. Suppose he begins to awake out of sleep, and his eyes are a little
opened, why are they so quickly closed again? Why does he again sink
into the sleep of death? Because he again yields to his bosom-sin:
he drinks again of the pleasing poison. Therefore it is impossible
that any lasting impression, should be made upon his heart. That is,
he relapses into his fatal insensibility, because he will not _deny
himself_.

4. But this is not the case with all. We have many instances of those,
who when once awakened sleep no more. The impressions once received,
do not wear away; they are not only deep, but lasting. And yet many
of these have not found what they seek: they mourn, and yet are not
comforted. Now why is this? It is because they do not _bring forth
fruits meet for repentance_: because they do not according to the
grace they have received, _cease from evil, and do good_. They do not
cease from the easily besetting sin, the sin of their constitution, of
their education, or of their profession. Or they omit doing the good
they may, and know they ought to do, because of some disagreeable
circumstances attending it: that is, they do not attain faith, because
they will not _deny themselves_, or _take up their cross_.

5. “But this man did receive _the heavenly gift_. He did _taste of
the powers of the world to come_. He saw _the light of the glory
of_ God, _in the face of_ Jesus Christ. The _peace which passeth all
understanding_, did _rule his heart and mind_; and the love of God was
shed abroad therein, by the Holy Ghost which was given unto him. Yet
he is now weak as another man. He again relishes the things of earth,
and has more taste for the things which are seen, than for those which
are not seen. The eye of his understanding is closed again, so that
he cannot _see him that is invisible_. His love is waxed cold, and the
peace of God no longer rules in his heart. And no marvel: for he has
again given place to the devil, and grieved the Holy Spirit of God. He
has turned again unto folly, to some pleasing sin, if not in outward
act, yet in heart.” He has given place to pride, or anger, or desire;
to self-will, or stubbornness. Or he did not stir up the gift of God
which was in him; he gave way to spiritual sloth, and would not be
at the pains of _praying always, and watching thereunto with all
perseverance_. That is, he made shipwreck of the faith, for want of
self-denial and _taking up his cross daily_.

6. But perhaps he has not made shipwreck of the faith: he has still
a measure of the Spirit of adoption, which continues to witness with
his spirit that he ♦is a child of God. However he is not _going on
to perfection_: he is not, at once, hungring and thirsting after
righteousness, panting after the whole image and full enjoyment of
God, as the hart after the water-brook. Rather he is weary and faint
in his mind, and as it were hovering between life and death. And why
is he thus, but because he hath forgotten the word of God, _By works
is faith made perfect_? He does not use all diligence, in working the
works of God. He does not _continue instant in prayer_, private as
well as public: in communicating, hearing, meditation, fasting and
religious conference. If he does not wholly neglect some of these
means, at least he does not use them all, with his might. Or he is
not zealous of works of charity, as well as works of piety. He is not
merciful after his power, with the full ability which God giveth. He
does not fervently serve the Lord, by doing good to men, in every kind,
and in every degree he can, to their souls as well as their bodies.
And why does he not continue in prayer? Because in times of dryness
it is pain and grief unto him. He does not continue in hearing at
all opportunities, because sleep is sweet; or it is cold, or dark,
or rainy. But why does he not continue in works of mercy? Because he
cannot feed the hungry, or cloath the naked, unless he retrench the
expence of his own apparel, or use cheaper and less pleasing food.
Beside which, the visiting the sick or those that are in prison, is
attended with many disagreeable circumstances. And so are most works
of spiritual mercy; reproof, in particular. He _would_ reprove his
neighbour; but sometimes shame, sometimes fear comes between. For he
may expose himself not only to ridicule, but to heavier inconveniences
too. Upon these and the like considerations, he omits one or more,
if not all works of mercy and piety. Therefore his faith is not made
perfect, neither can he grow in grace: namely, because he will not
_deny himself, and take up his daily cross_.

    ♦ ‘his’ replaced with ‘is’

7. It manifestly follows, That it is always owing to the want, either
of self-denial or taking up his cross, that a man does not throughly
follow his Lord, that he is not fully a disciple of Christ. It is
owing to this, that he who is dead in sin, does not awake, tho’ the
trumpet be blown: that he who begins to awake out of sleep, yet has
no deep or lasting conviction: that he who is deeply and lastingly
convinced of sin, does not attain remission of sins: that some who
have received this heavenly gift, retain it not, but make shipwreck
of the faith: and that others, if they do not draw back to perdition,
yet are weary and faint in their mind, and do not reach the mark of
the prize of the high-calling of God in Christ Jesus.


III. 1. How easily may we learn hence, that they know neither the
scripture nor the power of God, who directly or indirectly, in public
or in private, oppose the doctrine of self-denial and the daily cross.
How totally ignorant are these men, of an hundred particular texts,
as well as of the general tenor of the whole oracles of God? And how
entirely unacquainted must they be, with true, genuine, Christian
experience! Of the manner wherein the Holy Spirit ever did, and does
at this day work in the souls of men? They may talk indeed very loudly
and confidently, (a natural fruit of ignorance) as though they were
the only men who understood either the word of God, or the experience
of his children. But their words are, in every sense, _vain words_:
they are weighed in the ballance and found wanting.

2. We may learn from hence, secondly, the real cause why not only
many particular persons, but even bodies of men, who were once burning
and shining lights, have now lost both their light and heat. If they
did not hate and oppose, they at least lightly esteemed this precious
gospel-doctrine. If they did not boldly say, _Abnegationem omnem
proculcamus, internecioni damus_; “We trample all self-denial under
foot, we devote it to destruction:” yet they neither valued it
according to its high importance nor took any pains in practising it.
_Hanc mystici docent_, said that great, bad man. _The mystic writers
teach self-denial_: no, the inspired writers. And God teaches it to
every soul, who is willing to hear his voice.

3. *We may learn from hence, thirdly, That it is not enough for a
minister of the gospel, not to oppose the doctrine of self-denial, to
say nothing concerning it. Nay, he cannot satisfy his duty, by saying
a little in favour of it. If he would indeed be pure from the blood of
all men, he must speak of it frequently and largely: he must inculcate
the necessity of it, in the clearest and strongest manner. He must
press it with his might, on all persons, at all times, and in all
places: laying _line upon line, line upon line, precept upon precept,
precept upon precept_. So shall he have a conscience void of offence:
so shall he save his own soul and those that hear him.

4. Lastly, See that you apply this, every one of you, to your own
soul. Meditate upon it when you are in secret: ponder it in your heart.
Take ♦care not only to understand it throughly, but to remember it
to your live’s end. Cry unto the strong for strength, that you may no
sooner understand, than enter upon the practice of it. Delay not the
time, but practise it immediately, from this very hour: practise it
universally, on every one of the thousand occasions which occur in all
circumstances of life. Practise it daily; without intermission, from
the hour you first set your hand to the plow: and enduring therein to
the end, till your spirit returns to God.

    ♦ ‘are’ replaced with ‘care’




                             SERMON XLIX.

                      THE CURE OF EVIL-SPEAKING.


                       MATT. xviii. 15, 16, 17.

  _If thy brother shall sin against thee, go and tell him his
    fault between thee and him alone: if he will hear thee, thou
    hast gained thy brother._

  _But if he will not hear, take with thee one or two more, that
    by the mouth of two or three witnesses, every word may be
    established._

  _And if he will not hear them, tell it to the church: but if he
    will not hear the church, let him be to thee as an Heathen
    man and a Publican._

1. SPEAK _evil of no man_, says the great apostle; as plain a command
as _Thou shalt do no murder_. But who even among Christians regards
this command? Yea, how few are there, that so much as understand it?
What is _evil-speaking_? It is not, (as some suppose) the same with
lying or slandering. All a man says, may be as true as the bible; and
yet the saying of it is evil-speaking. For evil speaking is neither
more nor less, than speaking evil of an absent person: relating
something evil which was really done or said, by one that is not
present when it is related. Suppose, having seen a man drunk or heard
him curse or swear, I tell this when he is absent, it is evil-speaking.
In our language this is also by an extremely proper name termed
_backbiting_. Nor is there any material difference between this, and
what we usually stile _tale-bearing_. If the tale be delivered in
a soft and quiet manner, (perhaps with expressions of good-will to
the person, and of hope, that thing may not be quite so bad) then we
call it _whispering_. But in what manner it be done, the things is
the same; the same in substance if not in circumstance. Still it is
evil-speaking; still this command, _Speak evil of no man_, is trampled
under foot, if we relate to another the fault of a third person, when
he is not present to answer for himself.

2. And how extremely common is this sin, among all orders and degrees
of men? How do high and low, rich and poor, wise and foolish, learned
and unlearned, run into it continually? Persons who differ from each
other in all things else, nevertheless agree in this. How few are
there that can testify before God, “I am clear in this matter: I have
always set a watch before my mouth, and kept the door of my lips?”
What conversation do you hear, of any considerable length, whereof
evil-speaking is not one ingredient? And that, even among persons, who
in the general have the fear of God before their eyes, and do really
desire to have a conscience void of offence toward God and toward man.

3. And the very commonness of this sin, makes it difficult to be
avoided. As we are incompassed with it on every side, so if we are not
deeply sensible of the danger, and continually guarding against it, we
are liable to be carried away by the torrent. In this instance, almost
the whole of mankind is, as it were, in a conspiracy against us. And
their example steals upon us we know not how; so that we insensibly
slide into the imitation of it. Besides, it is recommended from
within as well as from without. There is scarce any wrong temper in
the mind of man, which may not be occasionally gratified by it, and
consequently incline us to it. It gratifies our _pride_, to relate
those faults of others, whereof we think ourselves not to be guilty.
_Anger_, resentment, and all unkind tempers are indulged, by speaking
against those with whom we are displeased. And in many cases, by
reciting the sins of their neighbours, men indulge their own _foolish
and hurtful desires_.

4. Evil-speaking is the more difficult to be avoided, because it
frequently attacks us in disguise. We speak thus, out of a noble,
generous (’tis well if we do not say, _holy_,) _indignation_ against
these vile creatures! We commit sin, from mere hatred of sin! We serve
the devil, out of pure zeal of God! It is merely in order to punish
the wicked, that we run into this wickedness. So do “the passions (as
one speaks) all justify themselves,” and palm sin upon us, under the
veil of holiness.

5. But is there no way to avoid the snare? Unquestionably there is.
Our blessed Lord has marked out a plain way for his followers, in the
words above recited. None who warily and steadily walks in this path,
will ever fall into evil-speaking. This rule is either an infallible
preventive, or a certain cure of it. In the preceding verses our Lord
had said, _Wo to the world because of offences_. Unspeakable misery
will arise in the world from this baleful fountain. (_Offences_ are
all things whereby any one is turned out of, or hindered in, the ways
of God.) _For it must be that offences come._ Such is the nature of
things; such the wickedness, folly and weakness of mankind. _But Wo
to that man_, miserable is that man, _by whom the offence cometh.
Wherefore if thy hand, thy foot, thine eye cause thee to offend_――If
the most dear enjoyment, the most beloved and useful person, turn thee
out of, or hinder thee in the way, _pluck it out, cut them off, and
cast them from thee_. But how can we avoid giving offence to some,
and being offended at others? Especially suppose they are quite in
the wrong, and we see it with our own eyes? Our Lord, here teaches us
how: he lays down a sure method of avoiding offences and evil-speaking
together. _If thy brother shall sin against thee, go and tell him of
his fault, between thee and him alone: if he will hear thee, thou hast
gained thy brother. But if he will not hear thee, take with thee one
or two more, that by the mouth of two or three witnesses every word
may be established. And if he will not hear them, tell it to the
church; but if he will not hear the church, let him be to thee as an
Heathen man and a Publican._

I. 1. First, _If thy brother shall sin against thee, go and tell
him of his fault, between thee and him alone_. The most literal way
of following this first rule, where it is practicable, is the best.
Therefore if thou seest with thine own eyes a brother, a fellow
Christian commit undeniable sin, or hearest it with thine own ears,
so that it is impossible for thee to doubt the fact, then thy part
is plain: take the very first opportunity of going to him: and if
thou canst have access, _tell him of his fault between thee and him
alone_. Indeed great care is to be taken, that this is done in a right
_spirit_, and in a right _manner_.――The success of a reproof greatly
depends on the spirit wherein it is given. Be not therefore wanting
in earnest prayer to God, that it may be given in a lowly spirit: with
a deep, piercing conviction, that it is God alone who maketh thee to
differ, and that if any good be done by what is now spoken, God doth
himself. Pray, that he would guard thy heart, inlighten thy mind, and
direct thy tongue to such words as he may please to bless. See that
thou speak in a meek as well as a lowly spirit: for _the wrath of man
worketh not the righteousness of_ God. If he be _overtaken in a fault_,
he can no otherwise be _restored_ than _in the spirit of meekness_.
If he _opposes_ the truth, yet he cannot be _brought to the knowledge_
thereof, but by _gentleness_. Still speak in a spirit of tender love,
_which many waters cannot quench_. If love is not conquered, it
conquers all things: who can tell the force of love?

                Love can bow down the stubborn neck,
                  The stone to flesh convert;
                Soften and melt and pierce and break
                  An adamantine heart.

Confirm then your love toward him, and you will thereby _heap coals of
fire upon his head_.

2. But see that the _manner_ also wherein you speak, be according to
the gospel of Christ. Avoid every thing in look, gesture, word and
tone of voice, that savours of _pride_ or self-sufficiency. Studiously
avoid every thing magisterial or dogmatical, every thing that looks
like arrogance or assuming. Beware of the most distant approach
to disdain, overbearing, or _contempt_. With equal care avoid all
appearance of _anger_, and though you use great plainness of speech,
yet let there be no reproach, no railing accusation, no token of any
warmth, but that of love. Above all, let there be no shadow of _hate_
or ill-will, no bitterness or sourness of expression; but use the air
and language of sweetness as well as gentleness, that all may appear
to flow from love in the heart. And yet this sweetness need not hinder
your speaking in the most serious and solemn manner: as far as may be,
in the very words of the oracles of God, (for there are none like them)
as under the eye of him who is coming to judge the quick and dead.

3. If you have not an opportunity of speaking to him in person, or
cannot have access, you may do it by a messenger; by a common friend,
in whose prudence, as well as uprightness, you can throughly confide.
Such a person, speaking in your name, and in the spirit and manner
above described, may answer the same end, and in a good degree supply
your lack of service. Only beware you do not _feign_ the want of
opportunity, in order to shun the cross; neither take it for granted,
that you cannot have access, without ever making the trial. Whenever
you can speak in your own person, it is far better. But you should
rather do it by another than not at all: this way is better than none.

4. But what if you can neither speak yourself, nor find such a
messenger as you can confide in? If this be really the case, it
then only remains, to write. And there may be some circumstances,
which make this the most advisable way of speaking. One of these
circumstances is, when the person with whom we have to do, is of
so warm and impetuous a temper, as does not easily bear reproof,
especially from an equal or inferior. But it may be so introduced and
softened in writing, as to make it far more tolerable. Besides, many
will read the very same words, which they could not bear to hear. It
does not give so violent a shock to their pride, nor so sensibly touch
their honour. And suppose it makes little impression at first, they
will perhaps give it a second reading, and upon farther consideration,
lay to heart, what before they disregarded. If you add your name, this
is nearly the same thing, as going to him, and speaking in person. And
this should always be done, unless it be rendered improper by some
very particular reason.

5. It should be well observed, not only that this is a step which
our Lord absolutely commands us to take, but that he commands us to
take this step first, before we attempt any other. No alternative is
allowed, no choice of any thing else: this is the way; walk thou in it.
It is true, he enjoins us, if need require, to take two other steps.
But they are to be taken successively _after_ this step, and neither
of them _before_ it. Much less are we to take any other step, either
before, or beside this. To do any thing else, or not to do this, is
therefore equally inexcusable.

6. Do not think to excuse yourself for taking an entirely different
step, by saying, “Why, I did not speak to any one, ’till I was so
_burdened_ that I could not refrain.” You was burdened! It was no
wonder you should; unless your conscience was seared. For you was
under the guilt of sin, of disobeying a plain commandment of God. You
ought immediately to have gone and _told your brother of his fault
between you and him alone_. If you did not, how should you be other
than burdened (unless your heart was utterly hardened) while you was
trampling the command of God under foot, and _hating your brother in
your heart_? And what a way have you found to _unburden_ yourself?
God reproves you for a sin of omission, for not telling your brother
of his fault; and you comfort yourself under his reproof, by a sin of
commission, by telling your brother’s fault to another person! Ease
bought by sin is a dear purchase: I trust in God you will have no ease,
but will be burdened so much the more, ’till you _go to your brother,
and tell him_, and no one else.

7. I know but of one exception to this rule. There may be a peculiar
case, wherein it is necessary to accuse the guilty tho’ absent, in
order to preserve the innocent. For instance: you are acquainted
with the design which a man has against the property or life of his
neighbour. Now the case may be so circumstanced, that there is no
other way of hindering that design from taking effect, but the making
it known without delay, to him against whom it is laid. In this case
therefore this rule is set aside, as is that of the apostle; _Speak
evil of no man_: and it is lawful, yea it is our bounden duty, to
speak evil of an absent person, in order to prevent his doing evil,
to others and himself at the same time. But remember mean-while, that
all evil-speaking is, in its own nature deadly poison. Therefore if
you are sometimes constrained to use it as a medicine, yet use it with
fear and trembling; seeing it is so dangerous a medicine, that nothing
but absolute necessity can excuse your using it at all. Accordingly
use it as seldom as possible; never but when there is such a necessity:
and even then use as little of it as is possible; only so much as is
necessary for the end proposed. At all other times, _go and tell him
of his fault, between thee and him alone_.


II. 1. But what _if he will not hear_? If he repay evil for good? If
he be enraged rather than convinced? What if he hear to no purpose,
and go on still in the evil of his way? We must expect this will
frequently be the case; the mildest and tenderest reproof, will have
no effect, but the blessing we wished for another, will return into
our own bosom. And what are we to do then? Our Lord has given us a
clear and full direction. Then _take with thee one or two more_: This
is the second step. Take one or two whom you know to be of a loving
spirit, lovers of God and of their neighbour. See likewise that they
be of a lowly spirit, and _cloathed with humility_. Let them also be
such as are meek and gentle, patient and long-suffering; not apt to
_return evil for evil, or railing for railing, but contrariwise
blessing_. Let them be men of understanding, such as are endued with
wisdom from above; and men unbiassed, free from partiality, free from
prejudice of any kind. Care should likewise be taken, that both the
persons and their characters be well-known to him. And let those that
are acceptable to him be chosen, preferable to any others.

2. Love will dictate the manner wherein they should proceed,
according to the nature of the case. Nor can any one particular
manner be prescribed for all cases. But perhaps in general one might
advise, before they enter upon the thing itself, let them mildly and
affectionately declare, that they have no anger or prejudice toward
him, and that it is merely from a principle of good-will, that they
now come, or at all concern themselves with his affairs. To make this
the more apparent, they might then calmly attend, to your repetition
of your former conversation with him, and to what he said in his own
defence, before they attempted to determine any thing. After this they
would be better able to judge, in what manner to proceed, _that by
the mouth of two or three witnesses, every word might be established_:
that whatever you have said, may have its full force, by the
additional weight of their authority.

3. In order to this, may they not 1. Briefly repeat what you spoke,
and what he answered? 2. Inlarge upon, open and confirm the reasons
which you had given? 3. Give weight to your reproof, shewing how just,
how kind, and how seasonable it was: and lastly, inforce the advices
and persuasions which you had annext to it? And these may likewise
hereafter, if need should require, bear witness of what was spoken.

4. With regard to this, as well as the preceding rule we may observe,
That our Lord gives us no choice, leaves us no alternative, but
expresly commands us, to do this, and nothing else in the place of
it. He likewise directs us, When to do this? Neither sooner, or later.
Namely, _after_ we have taken the first, and _before_ we have taken
the third step. It is then only that we are authorized to relate the
evil another has done, to those whom we desire to bare a part with
us, in this great instance of brotherly love. But let us have a care,
how we relate it to any other person, till both these steps have been
taken. If we neglect to take these, or if we take any others, what
wonder if we are burdened still? For we are sinners against God and
against our neighbour. And how fairly soever we may colour it, yet if
we have any conscience, our sin will find us out, and bring a burden
upon our soul.


III. 1. That we may be throughly instructed in this weighty affair,
our Lord has given us a still farther direction. _If he will not hear
them_, then and not till then, _tell it to the church_. This is the
third step. All the question is, How this word, _the church_, is here
to be understood? But the very nature of the thing will determine
this, beyond all reasonable doubt. You cannot tell it to _the national
church_, the whole body of men termed _the church of England_. Neither
would it answer any Christian end, if you could: this therefore is not
the meaning of the word. Neither can you tell it to that whole body
of people in _England_, with whom you have a more immediate connexion.
Nor indeed would this answer any good end: the word therefore is not
to be understood thus. It would not answer any valuable end, to tell
the faults of every particular member, to _the church_ (if you would
so term it) the congregation or _society_ united together in _London_.
It remains that you tell it to the elder or elders of the church, to
those who are overseers of that flock of Christ, to which you both
belong, who watch over yours and his soul, _as they that must give
account_. And this should be done, if it conveniently can, in the
presence of the person concerned, and tho’ plainly, yet with all
the tenderness and love, which the nature of the thing will admit.
It properly belongs to their office, to determine concerning the
behaviour of those under their care, and to _rebuke_ according to the
demerit of the offence, _with all authority_. When therefore you have
done this, you have done all which the word of God, or the law of
love requireth of you. You are not now partaker of his sin, but if he
perish, his blood is on his own head.

2. Here also let it be observed, that this, and no other, is the third
step which we are to take: and that we are to take it in its order,
after the other two; not before the second, much less the first;
unless in some very particular circumstance. Indeed in one case, the
second step may co-incide with this: they may be, in a manner, one
and the same. The elder or elders of the church, may be so connected
with the offending brother, that they may set aside the necessity, and
supply the place of the _one or two_ witnesses. So that it may suffice
to tell it to them, after you have told it to your brother, _between
you and him alone_.

3. When you have done this, you have delivered your own soul. _If he
will not hear the church_, if he persist in his sin, _let him be to
thee as an Heathen man and a Publican_. You are under no obligation
to think of him any more: only when you commend him to God in prayer.
You need not speak of him any more, but leave him to his own master.
Indeed you still owe to him, as to all other Heathens, earnest, tender
good-will. You owe him courtesy, and as occasion offers, all the
offices of humanity. But have no friendship, no familiarity with him;
no other intercourse than with an open Heathen.

4. But if this be the rule by which Christians walk, which is the land
where the Christians live? A few you may possibly find scattered up
and down, who make a conscience of observing it. But how very few?
How thinly scattered upon the face of the earth? And where is there
any body of men, that universally walk thereby? Can we find them in
_Europe_? Or, to go no farther, in _Great Britain_ or _Ireland_? I
fear not: I fear we may search these kingdoms throughout, and yet
search in vain. Alas for the Christian world! Alas for Protestants,
for reformed Christians! _O who will rise up with me against the
wicked? Who will take_ God’s _part_ against the evil-speakers? Art
_thou the man_? By the grace of God wilt thou be one, who art not
carried away by the torrent? Art thou fully determined, God being
thy helper, from this very hour, to set a watch, a continual _watch
before thy mouth, and keep the door of thy lips_? From this hour wilt
thou walk by this rule, _speaking evil of no man_? If thou seest thy
brother do evil, wilt thou _tell him of his fault between thee and him
alone_? Afterwards _take one or two_ witnesses, and then only _tell it
to the church_? If this be the full purpose of thy heart, then learn
one lesson well. _Hear evil of no man_: if there were no hearers,
there would be no speakers of evil. And is not (according to the
vulgar proverb) the receiver as bad as the thief? If then any begin
to speak evil in thy hearing, check him immediately. Refuse to hear
the voice of the charmer, charm he never so sweetly: let him use
ever so soft a manner, so mild an accent, ever so many professions of
good-will, for him whom he is stabbing in the dark, whom he smiteth
under the fifth rib. Resolutely refuse to hear, tho’ the whisperer
complain of being _burdened_ till he speak. Burdened! Thou fool, dost
thou _travail with_ thy cursed _secret, as a woman travaileth with
child_? Go then and be delivered of thy burden, in the way the Lord
hath ordained. First, _Go and tell thy brother of his fault, between
thee and him alone_. Next, _Take with thee one or two_ common friends,
and tell him in their presence. If neither of these steps take effect,
then _tell it to the church_. But at the peril of thy soul, tell it to
no one else, either before or after. Unless in that one exempt case,
when it is absolutely needful, to preserve the innocent. Why shouldst
thou burden another as well as thyself, by making him partaker of thy
sin?

5. *O that all you who bear the reproach of Christ, who are in
derision called _Methodists_, would set an example to the Christian
world, so called, at least in this one instance! Put ye away
evil-speaking, tale-bearing, whispering: let none of them proceed
out of your mouth. See that you _speak evil of no man_; of the absent
nothing but good. If ye must be distinguished, whether ye will or no,
let this be the distinguishing mark of a _Methodist_, “He censures no
man behind his back: by this fruit ye may know him.” What a blessed
effect of this self-denial should we quickly feel in our hearts? How
would our _peace flow as a river_, when we thus _followed peace with
all men_? How would the love of God abound in our own souls, while
we thus confirmed our love to our brethren? And what an effect would
it have on all that were united together in the name of the Lord
Jesus? How would brotherly love continually increase, when this grand
hindrance of it was removed? All the members of Christ’s mystical body
would then _naturally care for_ each other? _If one member suffered,
all_ would _suffer with it; if one was honoured, all_ would _rejoice
with it_: and every one would love his brother _with a pure heart
fervently_. Nor is this all: but what an effect might this have, even
on the wild, unthinking world? How soon would they descry in us, what
they could not find among all the thousands of their brethren, and
cry (as _Julian_ the apostate to his Heathen courtiers) “See how these
Christians love one another!” By this chiefly would God convince the
world, and prepare them also for his kingdom: as we may easily learn
from those remarkable words in our Lord’s last, solemn prayer. _I pray
for them who will believe in me, that they all may be one, as thou,
Father, art in me, and I in thee――That the world may believe that thou
hast sent me!_ The Lord hasten the time! The Lord enable _us_, thus to
love one another, not only _in word and in tongue, but in deed and in
truth_, even as Christ hath loved us.




                              SERMON L.

                          THE USE OF MONEY.


                             LUKE xvi. 9.

  _I say unto you, make unto yourselves friends of the mammon of
    unrighteousness, that when ye fail, they may receive you into
    the everlasting habitations._

1. OUR Lord having finished the beautiful parable of the prodigal
son, which he had particularly addressed to those who murmured at
his _receiving_ Publicans and sinners, adds another relation of a
different kind, addressed rather to the children of God. _He said unto
his disciples_ (ver. 1.) not so much to the Scribes and Pharisees,
to whom he had been speaking before――_There was a certain rich man,
who had a steward, and he was accused to him of wasting his goods.
And calling him he said, Give an account of thy stewardship, for thou
canst be no longer steward_, (ver. 2.) After reciting the method which
the bad steward used, to provide against the day of necessity, our
Saviour adds, _His Lord commended the unjust steward_, namely in _this
respect_, that he used timely precaution, and subjoins this weighty
reflection, _The children of this world are wiser in their generation
than the children of light_. (ver. 8.) Those who seek no other portion
than _this world, are wiser_, (not absolutely; for they are, one and
all, the veryest fools, the most egregious madmen under heaven, but)
_in their generation_, in their own way: they are more consistent with
themselves, they are truer to their acknowledged principles, they more
steadily pursue their end, _than the children of light_, than they who
see _the light of the glory of_ God, _in the face of_ Jesus Christ.
Then follow the words above recited. _And I_――the only begotten Son
of God, the Creator, Lord and possessor of heaven and earth and all
that is therein: the judge of all, to whom ye are to _give an account
of_ your _stewardship_ when ye _can be no longer stewards――I say
unto you_, learn in this respect, even of the unjust steward, _make
yourselves friends_, by wise timely precaution, _of the mammon of
unrighteousness_. _Mammon_ means riches or money. It is termed _the
mammon of unrighteousness_, because of the unrighteous manner wherein
it is frequently procured, and, wherein even that which was honestly
procured, is generally employed. _Make yourselves friends_ of this by
doing all possible good, particularly to the children of God: _that
when ye fail_, when ye return to dust, when ye have no more place
under the sun, those of them who are gone before _may receive you_,
may welcome you _into the everlasting habitations_.

2. An excellent branch of Christian wisdom here inculcated by our
Lord on all his followers, namely, the right use of money; a subject
largely spoken of, after their manner, by men of the world: but
not sufficiently considered by those whom God hath chosen out of
the ♦world. These generally do not consider as the importance of
the subject requires, the use of this excellent talent. Neither
do they understand how to employ it to the greatest advantage; the
introduction of which into the world, is one admirable instance of the
wise and gracious providence of God. It has indeed been the manner of
poets, orators and philosophers, in almost all ages and nations, to
rail at this, as the grand corrupter of the world, the bane of virtue,
the pest of human society. Hence nothing so commonly heard as,

                  _Ferrum, Ferroq; nocentius aurum_:

And “gold, more mischievous than keenest steel.” Hence the lamentable
complaint

               _Effodiuntur opes, irritamenta malorum_.

Nay, one celebrated writer gravely exhorts his countrymen, in order to
banish all vice at once, to “throw all their money into the sea.”

                      _In mare proximum,
                       Summi materiem mali!_

But is not all this mere, empty rant? Is there any solid reason
therein? By no means. For let the world be as corrupt as it will, is
gold or silver to blame? _The love of money_, we know, _is the root
of all evil_: but not the thing itself. The fault does not lie in the
money, but in them that use it. It may be used ill: and what may not?
But it may likewise be used well: it is full as applicable to the best,
as to the worst uses. It is of unspeakable service to all civilized
nations, in all the common affairs of life. It is a most compendious
instrument, of transacting all manner of business, and (if we use it
according to Christian wisdom) doing all manner of good. It is true,
were man in a state of innocence, or were all men _filled with the
Holy Ghost_, so that like the infant church at _Jerusalem, no man
counted any thing he had his own_, but _distribution was made to every
one as he had need_, the use of it would be superseded: as we cannot
conceive there is any thing of the kind among the inhabitants of
heaven. But in the present state of mankind, it is an excellent gift
of God, answering the noblest ends. In the hands of his children, it
is food for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, raiment for the naked.
It gives to the traveller and the stranger, where to lay his head. By
it we may supply the place of an husband to the widow, and of a father
to the fatherless. We may be a defence for the oppressed, a means of
health to the sick, of ease to them that are in pain: it may be as
eyes to the blind, as feet to the lame: yea, a lifter up from the
gates of death.

    ♦ ‘word’ replaced with ‘world’

3. It is therefore of the highest concern, that all who fear God, know
how to employ this valuable talent: that they be instructed, how it
may answer these glorious ends, and in the highest degree. And perhaps
all the instructions which are necessary for this, may be reduced to
three plain rules, by the exact observance whereof, we may approve
ourselves faithful stewards of _the mammon of unrighteousness_.


I. 1. The first of these is (he that heareth let him understand!)
_Gain all you can_. Here we may speak like the children of the world:
we meet them on their own ground. And it is our bounden duty to do
this: we ought to gain all we can gain, without buying gold too dear,
without paying more for it than it is worth. But this it is certain
we ought not to do; we ought not to gain money at the expence of life:
nor (which is in effect the same thing) at the expence of our health.
Therefore no gain whatsoever should induce us to enter into, or to
continue in any employ, which is of such a kind, or is attended with
so hard or so long labour, as to impair our constitution. Neither
should we begin or continue in any business, which necessarily
deprives us of proper seasons, for food and sleep in such a proportion
as our nature requires. Indeed there is a great difference here: some
employments are absolutely and totally unhealthy: as those which imply
the dealing much with arsenic, or other equally hurtful minerals:
or the breathing an air tainted with streams of melting lead, which
must at length destroy the firmest constitution. Others may not be
absolutely unhealthy, but only to persons of a weak constitution. Such
are those which require many hours to be spent in writing; especially
if a person write sitting, and lean upon his stomach, or remain long
in an uneasy posture. But whatever it is which reason or experience
shews to be destructive of health or strength, that we may not submit
to; seeing _the life is more_ valuable _than meat, and the body than
raiment_. And if we are already engaged in such an employ, we should
exchange it as soon as possible, for some, which if it lessen our gain,
will however not lessen our health.

2. We are secondly, to _gain all we can_, without hurting our mind any
more than our body. For neither may we hurt this: we must preserve,
at all events, the spirit of an healthful mind. Therefore we may not
engage or continue in any sinful trade, any that is contrary to the
law of God, or of our country. Such are all that necessarily imply
our robbing or defrauding the king of his lawful customs. For it is
at least as sinful, to defraud the king of his right, as to rob our
fellow-subjects. And the king has full as much right to his customs,
as we have to our houses and apparel. Other businesses there are,
which however innocent _in themselves_, cannot be followed with
innocence _now_: at least, not in _England_: such, for instance, as
will not afford a competent maintenance, without cheating or lying,
or conformity to some custom, which is not consistent with a good
conscience. These likewise are sacredly to be avoided, whatever gain
they may be attended with, provided we follow the custom of the trade.
For, to gain money we must not lose our souls. There are yet others
which many pursue with perfect innocence, without hurting either their
body or mind. And yet perhaps _you_ cannot; either they may entangle
you in that company, which would destroy your soul: and by repeated
experiments it may appear, that you cannot separate the one from
the other: or there may be an idiosyncracy, a peculiarity in your
constitution of soul (as there is in the bodily constitution of many)
by reason whereof that employment is deadly to _you_, which another
may safely follow. So I am convinced from many experiments, I could
not study to any degree of perfection, either mathematics, arithmetic,
or algebra, without being a Deist, if not an Atheist. And yet others
may study them all their lives, without sustaining any inconvenience.
None therefore can here determine for another, but every man must
judge for himself, and abstain from whatever he in particular finds
to be hurtful to his soul.

3. We are, thirdly, to _gain all we can_, without hurting our
neighbour. But this we may not, cannot do, if we love our neighbour
as ourselves. We cannot, if we love every one as ourselves, hurt any
one _in his substance_. We cannot devour the increase of his lands,
and perhaps the lands and houses themselves, by gaming, by over-grown
bills (whether on account of physic, or law, or any thing else) or
by requiring or taking such interest, as even the laws of our country
forbid. Hereby all _pawn-broking_ is excluded: seeing whatever good
we might do thereby, all unprejudiced men see with grief, it is
abundantly overballanced by the evil. And if it were otherwise,
yet we are not allowed, to _do evil that good may come_. We cannot,
consistent with brotherly love, sell our goods below the market-price.
We cannot study to ruin our neighbour’s trade, in order to advance
our own. Much less can we entice away, or receive any of his servants
or workmen whom he has need of. None can gain, by swallowing up his
neighbour’s substance, without gaining the damnation of hell.

4. Neither may we gain, by hurting our neighbour _in his body_.
Therefore we may not sell any thing which tends to impair health.
Such is eminently all that liquid fire, commonly called _drams_ or
_spirituous liquors_. It is true, these may have a place in medicine:
they may be of use, in some bodily disorders: (altho’ there would
rarely be occasion for them, were it not for the unskilfulness of the
practitioner.) Therefore such as prepare and sell them _only for this
end_, may keep their conscience clear. But who are they? Who prepare
and sell them _only for this end_? Do you know ten such distillers in
_England_? Then excuse these. *But all who sell them in the common way,
to any that will buy, are poisoners-general. They murder his Majesty’s
subjects by wholesale, neither does their eye pity or spare. They
drive them to hell, like sheep: and what is their gain? Is it not
the blood of these men? Who then would envy their large estates and
sumptuous palaces? A curse is in the midst of them: the curse of God
cleaves to the stones, the timber, the furniture of them. The curse of
God is in their gardens, their walks, their groves; a fire that burns
to the nethermost hell. Blood, blood is there: the foundation, the
floor, the walls, the roof are stained with blood! And canst thou hope,
O thou man of blood, tho’ thou art _clothed in_ scarlet _and fine
linen, and farest sumptuously every day_: canst thou hope to deliver
down thy _fields of blood_, to the third generation? Not so; for there
is a God in heaven: therefore thy name shall soon be rooted out. Like
as those whom thou hast destroyed, body and soul, _thy memorial shall
perish with thee_.

5. And are not they partakers of the same guilt, tho’ in a lower
degree, whether surgeons, apothecaries or physicians, who play with
the lives or health of men, to enlarge their own gain? Who purposely
lengthen the pain or disease, which they are able to remove speedily?
Who protract the cure of their patient’s body, in order to plunder his
substance? Can any man be clear before God who does not shorten every
disorder, _as much as he can_, and remove all sickness and pain, _as
soon as he can_? He cannot: for nothing can be more clear, than that
he does not _love his neighbour as himself_; than that he does not
_do unto others, as he would they should do unto_ himself.

6. This is dear-bought gain. And so is whatever is procured, by
hurting our neighbour _in his soul_: by ministring, suppose, either
directly or indirectly to his unchastity or intemperance; which
certainly none can do, who has any fear of God, or any real desire
of pleasing him. It nearly concerns all those to consider this, who
have any thing to do with taverns, victualling-houses, opera-houses,
play-houses, or any other places of public, fashionable diversion. If
these profit the souls of men, you are clear; your employment is good,
and your gain innocent. But if they are either sinful in themselves,
or natural inlets to sin of various kinds, then it is to be feared,
you have a sad account to make. O beware lest God say in that day,
_These have perished in their iniquity, but their blood do I require
at thy hands_!

7. These cautions and restrictions being observed, it is the bounden
duty of all who are engaged in worldly business, to observe that
first and great rule of Christian wisdom with respect to money, _Gain
all you can_. Gain all you can by honest industry: use all possible
diligence in your calling. Lose no time: if you understand yourself
and your relation to God and man, you know you have none to spare.
If you understand your particular calling as you ought, you will have
no time that hangs upon your hands. Every business will afford some
employment sufficient for every day and every hour. That wherein _you_
are placed, if you follow it in earnest, will leave you no leisure for
silly, unprofitable diversions. You have always something better to do,
something that will profit you, more or less. And _whatsoever thy hand
findeth to do, do it with thy might_. Do it _as soon_ as possible:
no delay! No putting off from day to day, or from hour to hour. Never
leave any thing ’till to-morrow, which you can do to-day. And do it
_as well_ as possible. Do not sleep or yawn over it: put your whole
strength to the work. Spare no pains. Let nothing be done by halves,
or in a slight and careless manner. Let nothing in your business be
left undone, if it can be done by labour or patience.

8. Gain _all you can_, by common sense, by using in your business all
the understanding which God has given you. It is amazing to observe,
how few do this: how men run on in the same dull track with their
forefathers. But whatever they do who know not God, this is no rule
for _you_. It is a shame for a Christian, not to improve upon _them_,
in whatever he takes in hand. _You_ should be continually learning,
from the experience of others, or from your own experience, reading
and reflection, to do every thing you have to do better to-day, than
you did yesterday. And see that you practise whatever you learn, that
you may make the best of all that is in your hands.


II. 1. Having gained all you can, by honest wisdom, and unwearied
diligence, the second rule of Christian prudence is, _Save all you
can_. Do not throw the precious talent into the sea: leave that folly
to Heathen philosophers. Do not throw it away in idle expences, which
is just the same as throwing it into the sea. Expend no part of it
merely to gratify the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, or
the pride of life.

2. Do not waste any part of so precious a talent, merely in gratifying
the desires of the flesh; in procuring the pleasures of sense of
whatever kind; particularly, in enlarging the pleasure of tasting.
I do not mean, avoid gluttony and drunkenness only: an honest Heathen
would condemn these. But there is a regular, reputable, kind of
sensuality, an elegant epicurism, which does not immediately disorder
the stomach, nor (sensibly at least) impair the understanding. And
yet (to mention no other effects of it now) it cannot be maintained
without considerable expence. Cut off all this expence: despise
delicacy and variety, and be content with what plain nature requires.

3. Do not waste any part of so precious a talent, merely in gratifying
the desire of the eye, by superfluous or expensive apparel, or by
needless ornaments. Waste no part of it in curiously adorning your
houses, in superfluous or expensive furniture: in costly pictures,
painting, gilding, books: in elegant (rather than useful) gardens. Let
your neighbours, who know nothing better, do this: _Let the dead bury
their dead_. But _what is that to thee_, says our Lord? _Follow thou
me._ Are you willing? Then you are able so to do.

4. Lay out nothing to gratify the pride of life, to gain the
admiration or praise of men. This motive of expence is frequently
interwoven with one or both of the former. Men are expensive in diet,
or apparel or furniture, not barely to please their appetite, or to
gratify their eye, their imagination, but their vanity too. _So long
as thou dost well unto thyself, men will speak good of thee._ So long
as thou art _cloathed in purple and fine linen, and farest sumptuously
every day_, no doubt many will applaud thy elegance of taste, thy
generosity and hospitality. But do not buy their applause so dear.
Rather be content with the honour that cometh from God.

5. Who would expend any thing in gratifying these desires, if he
considered, that to gratify them is to increase them? Nothing can
be more certain than this: daily experience shews, the more they
are indulged, they increase the more. Whenever therefore you expend
any thing to please your taste or other senses, you pay so much for
sensuality. When you lay out money to please your eye, you give so
much for an increase of curiosity, for a stronger attachment to these
pleasures, which perish in the using. While you are purchasing any
thing which men use to applaud, you are purchasing more vanity. Had
you not then enough of vanity, sensuality, curiosity before? Was there
need of any addition? And would you pay for it too? What manner of
wisdom is this? Would not the literally throwing your money into the
sea, be a less mischievous folly?

6. *And why should you throw away money upon your children, any more
than upon yourself, in delicate food, in gay or costly apparel, in
superfluities of any kind? Why should you purchase for them, more
pride or lust, more vanity, or foolish and hurtful desires? They do
not want any more: they have enough already: nature has made ample
provision for them. Why should you be at farther expence, to increase
their temptations and snares, and to _pierce them thro’ with_ more
_sorrows_?

7. *Do not _leave it_ to them, to throw away. If you have good reason
to believe, they would waste what is now in your possession, in
gratifying and thereby increasing, the desire of the flesh, the desire
of the eye, or the pride of life; at the peril of theirs and your
own soul, do not set these traps in their way. Do not offer your sons
or your daughters unto Belial, any more than unto Moloch. Have pity
upon them and remove out of their way, what you may easily foresee,
would increase their sins, and consequently plunge them deeper into
everlasting perdition. How amazing then is the infatuation of those
parents, who think they can never leave their children enough? What!
cannot you leave them enough of arrows, fire-brands, and death? Not
enough of foolish and hurtful desires? Not enough of pride, lust,
ambition, vanity? Not enough of everlasting burnings! Poor wretch!
Thou fearest ♦where no fear is. Surely both thou and they, when ye are
lifting up your eyes in hell, will have enough both of _the worm that
never dieth_, and of _the fire that never shall be quenched_.

    ♦ ‘were’ replaced with ‘where’

8. *“What then would you do, if you was in my case? If you had a
considerable fortune to leave?” Whether I _would_ do it, or no, I know
what I _ought_ to do: this will admit of no reasonable question. If I
had one child, elder or younger, who knew the value of money, one who
I believed would put it to the true use, I should think it my absolute,
indispensable duty, to leave that child the bulk of my fortune; and to
the rest just so much as would enable them to live in the manner they
had been accustomed to do. “But what if all your children were equally
ignorant of the true use of money?” I ought then (hard saying, who can
hear it?) to give each what would keep him above want: and to bestow
all the rest in such a manner as I judged would be most for the glory
of God.


III. 1. But let not any man imagine, that he has done any thing,
barely by going thus far, by _gaining_ and _ saving all he can_, if
he were to stop here. All this is nothing, if a man go not forward,
if he does not point all this at a farther end. Nor indeed can a man
properly be said, to _save_ any thing, if he only _lays it up_. You
may as well throw your money into the sea, as bury it in the earth.
And you may as well bury it in the earth, as in your chest, or in
the _Bank_ of _England_. Not to use, is effectually to throw it away.
If therefore you would indeed _make yourselves friends of the mammon
of unrighteousness_, add the third rule to the two preceding. Having
first gained all you can, and secondly saved all you can, then give
all you can.

2. *In order to see the ground and reason of this, consider, when the
Possessor of heaven and earth brought you into being and placed you
in this world, he placed you here not as a proprietor, but a steward.
As such he intrusted you for a season with goods of various kinds.
But the sole property of these still rests in him, nor can ever be
alienated from him. As you yourself are not your own, but his, such
is likewise all that you enjoy. Such is your soul, and your body,
not your own, but God’s. And so is your substance in particular.
And he has told you in the most clear and express terms, how you are
to employ it for him, in such a manner, that it may be all an holy
sacrifice, acceptable thro’ Christ Jesus. And this light, easy service
he has promised to reward with an eternal weight of glory.

3. *The directions which God has given us, touching the use of our
worldly substance, may be comprized in the following particulars. If
you desire to be a faithful and a wise steward, out of that portion of
your Lord’s goods, which he has for the present lodged in your hands,
but with the right of resuming whenever it pleases him, first, provide
things needful for yourself, food to eat, raiment to put on, whatever
nature moderately requires, for preserving the body in health and
strength: secondly, provide these for your wife, your children, your
servants, or any others who pertain to your houshold. If when this
is done, there be an overplus left, then _do good to them that are of
the houshold of faith_. If there be an overplus still, _as you have
opportunity, do good unto all men_. In so doing, you _give all you
can_: nay, in a sound sense, all you have: for all that is laid out in
this manner, is really given to God. You _render unto_ God _the things
that are_ God’s, not only by what you give to the poor, but also by
that which you expend in providing things needful for yourself and
your houshold.

4. *If then a doubt should at any time arise in your mind, concerning
what you are going to expend, either on yourself or any part of
your family, you have an easy way to remove it. Calmly and seriously
enquire, 1. In expending this, am I acting according to my character?
Am I acting herein, not as a proprietor, but as a steward of my Lord’s
goods? 2. Am I doing this in obedience to his word? In what scripture
does he require me so to do? 3. Can I offer up this action, this
expence, as a sacrifice to God thro’ Jesus Christ? 4. Have I reason
to believe, that for this very work I shall have a reward at the
resurrection of the just? You will seldom need any thing more to
remove any doubt which arises on this head; but by this fourfold
consideration you will receive clear light as to the way wherein you
should go.

5. If any doubt still remain, you may farther examine yourself by
prayer, according to those heads of enquiry. Try whether you can say
to the Searcher of hearts, your conscience not condemning you, “Lord,
thou seest, I am going to expend this sum, on that food, apparel,
furniture. And thou knowest, I act therein with a single eye, as
a steward of thy goods, expending this portion of them thus, in
pursuance of the design thou hadst in intrusting me with them. Thou
knowest I do this, in obedience to thy word, as thou commandest,
and because thou commandest it. Let this, I beseech thee, be an holy
sacrifice, acceptable thro’ Jesus Christ! And give me a witness in
myself, that for this labour of love, I shall have a recompence,
when thou rewardest every man according to his works.” Now if your
conscience bear you witness in the Holy Ghost, that this prayer is
well pleasing to God, then have you no reason to doubt, but that
expence is right and good, and such as will never make you ashamed.

6. You see then what it is, to _make yourselves friends of the mammon
of unrighteousness_, and by what means you may procure, _that when
ye fail they may receive you into the everlasting habitations_. You
see the nature and extent of truly Christian prudence, so far as it
relates to the use of that great talent, money. _Gain all you can_,
without hurting either yourself or your neighbour, in soul or body;
by applying hereto with unintermitted diligence, and with all the
understanding which God has given you. _Save all you can_, by cutting
off every expence, which serves only to indulge foolish desire: to
gratify either the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, or
the pride of life. Waste nothing, living or dying, on sin or folly,
whether for ♦yourself or your children. And then _Give all you can_,
or in other words give all you have to God. Do not stint yourself,
like a Jew rather than a Christian to this or that proportion. _Render
unto_ God, not a tenth, not a third, not half; but _all that is_ God’s,
be it more or less: by employing all, on yourself, your ♠houshold, the
houshold of faith and all mankind, in such a manner, that you may give
a good account of your stewardship, when ye can be no longer stewards:
in such a manner as the oracles of God direct, both by general and
particular precepts: in such a manner, that whatever ye do may be _a
sacrifice of a sweet-smelling savour to_ God; and that every act may
be rewarded in that day, when the Lord cometh with all his saints.

    ♦ removed unneeded word ‘your’

    ♠ ‘houshould’ replaced with ‘houshold’

7. Brethren, can we be either wise or faithful stewards, unless we
thus manage our Lord’s goods? We cannot; as not only the oracles
of God, but our own conscience beareth witness. Then why should we
delay? Why should we confer any longer with flesh and blood, or men
of the world? Our kingdom, our wisdom _is not of this world_: Heathen
custom is nothing to us. We follow no men any farther, than they are
followers of Christ. Hear ye him: yea, to-day, while it is called
to-day, hear and obey his voice. At this hour and from this hour, do
his will: fulfil his word, in this and in all things. I intreat you,
in the name of the Lord Jesus, act up to the dignity of your calling.
No more sloth! Whatsoever your hand findeth to do, do it with your
might. No more waste! Cut off every expence which fashion, caprice,
or flesh and blood demand. No more covetousness! But employ whatever
God has intrusted you with, in doing good, all possible good, in every
possible kind and degree, to the houshold of faith, to all men. This
is no small part of _the wisdom of the just_: give all ye have, as
well as all ye are, a spiritual sacrifice to him, who with-held not
from you his Son, his only Son: so _laying up in store for yourselves
a good foundation against the time to come, that ye may attain eternal
life_.




                              SERMON LI.

                          THE GOOD STEWARD.


                             LUKE xvi. 2.

  _Give an account of thy stewardship; for thou canst be no longer
    steward._

1. THE relation which man bears to God, the creature to his Creator,
is exhibited to us in the oracles of God under various representations.
Considered as a sinner, a fallen creature, he is there represented
as a _debtor_ to his Creator. He is also frequently represented as a
_servant_, which indeed is essential to him as a creature: insomuch
that this appellation is given to the Son of God when in his state of
humiliation: he _took upon him the form of a servant, being made in
the likeness of men_.

2. But no character more exactly agrees with the present state of
man than that of a _steward_. Our blessed Lord frequently represents
him as such; and there is a peculiar propriety in the representation.
It is only in one particular respect, namely, as he is a sinner,
that he is stiled a _debtor_. And when he is stiled a _servant_, the
appellation is general and indeterminate. But a _steward_ is a servant
of a particular kind: such a one as man is in all respects. This
appellation is exactly expressive of his situation in the present
world; specifying what kind of servant he is to God, and what kind of
service his divine Master expects from him.

It may be of use then to consider this point throughly, and to make
our full improvement of it. In order to this, let us, first, inquire,
in what respects we are now God’s _stewards_. Let us, secondly,
observe, that when he requires our souls of us, we _can be no longer
stewards_. It will then only remain, as we may in the third place,
observe, to _give an account of our stewardship_.


I. 1. And first, we are to enquire, in what respects we are now God’s
_stewards_. We are now indebted to him for all we have; but although
a debtor is obliged to return what he has received, yet until the time
of payment comes, he is at liberty to use it as he pleases. It is not
so with a steward; he is not at liberty to use what is lodged in his
hands, as _he_ pleases, but as his master pleases. He has no right to
dispose of any thing which is in his hands, but according to the will
of his Lord. For he is not the proprietor of any of these things, but
barely intrusted with them by another: and intrusted on this express
condition, that he shall dispose of all as his master orders. Now this
is exactly the case of every man, with relation to God. We are not
at liberty to use what he has lodged in our hands, as _we_ please,
but as he pleases who alone is the possessor of heaven and earth, and
the Lord of every creature. We have no right to dispose of any thing
we have, but according to his will, seeing we are not proprietors
of any of these things: they are all, as our Lord speaks, ἀλλότρια,
_belonging to another person_; nor is any thing properly _our own_,
in the land of our pilgrimage. We shall not receive τὰ ἵδια _our own
things_, ’till we come to our own country. Eternal things only are our
own: with all these temporal things we are barely intrusted by another;
the Disposer and Lord of all. And he intrusts us with them on this
express condition, that we use them only as our master’s goods, and
according to the particular directions, which he has given us in his
word.

2. On this condition he hath intrusted us with our souls, our bodies,
our goods, and whatever other talents we have received. But in order
to impress this weighty truth on our hearts, it will be needful to
come to particulars.

And first, God has intrusted us with our _soul_, an immortal spirit,
made in the image of God, together with all the powers and faculties
thereof, understanding, imagination, memory; will, and a train of
affections, either included in it, or closely dependent upon it; love
and hatred, joy and sorrow, respecting present good and evil; desire
and aversion, hope and fear, respecting that which is to come. All
these St. _Paul_ seems to include in two words, when he says, _The
peace of God shall keep your_ hearts _and_ minds. Perhaps indeed the
latter word, νοήματα, might rather be rendered _thoughts_: provided
we take that word in its most extensive sense, for every perception
of the mind, whether active or passive.

3. Now of all these, it is certain, we are only stewards. God has
intrusted us with these powers and faculties, not that we may employ
them according to our own will, but according to the express orders
which he has given us: (although it is true, that in doing his will,
we most effectually secure our own happiness, seeing it is herein only
that we can be happy, either in time, or in eternity.) Thus, we are
to use our understanding, our imagination, our memory, wholly to the
glory of him that gave them. Thus our will is to be wholly given up
to him, and all our affections to be regulated as he directs. We are
to love and hate, to rejoice and grieve, to desire and shun, to hope
and fear, according to the rule which he prescribes, whose we are,
and whom we are to serve in all things. Even our thoughts are not our
own in this sense: they are not at our own disposal: but for every
deliberate motion of our mind, we are accountable to our great Master.

4. God has, secondly, intrusted us with our _bodies_, (those
exquisitely wrought machines, so _fearfully and wonderfully made_)
with all the powers and members thereof. He has intrusted us with the
organs of _sense_, of sight, hearing, and the rest: but none of these
are given us as our own, to be employed according to our own will.
None of these are _lent_ us in such a sense, as to leave us at liberty
to use them as we please for a season. No: we have received them on
these very terms, that as long as they abide with us, we should employ
them all, in that very manner, and no other which he appoints.

5. It is on the same terms, that he imparted to us that most excellent
talent of _speech. Thou hast given me a tongue_, says the antient
writer, _that I may praise thee therewith_. For this purpose was it
given to all the children of men, to be employed in glorifying God.
Nothing therefore is more ungrateful, or more absurd, than to think or
say, _our tongues are our own_. That cannot be, unless we have created
ourselves, and so are independent on the Most High. Nay, but _it is he
that hath made us, and not we ourselves_. The manifest consequence is,
that he is still _Lord over us_, in this, as in all other respects. It
follows, that there is not a word of our tongue, for which we are not
accountable to him.

6. To him we are equally accountable for the use of our _hands_ and
_feet_, and all the _members_ of our body. These are so many talents
which are committed to our trust, until the time appointed by the
Father. Until then, we have the use of all these; but as stewards, not
as proprietors; to the end, we should _render them not as instruments
of unrighteousness unto sin, but as instruments of righteousness unto
God_.

7. God has intrusted us, thirdly, with a portion of _worldly goods_,
with food to eat, raiment to put on, and a place where to lay our
head, with not only the necessaries, but the conveniencies of life.
Above all, he has committed to our charge that precious talent, which
contains all the rest, _money_: indeed it is unspeakably precious, if
we are _wise and faithful stewards_ of it: if we employ every part of
it for such purposes as our blessed Lord has commanded us to do.

8. God has intrusted us, fourthly, with several talents, which do not
properly come under any of these heads: such is bodily _strength_:
such are _health_, a pleasing _person_, an agreeable _address_: such
are _learning_ and _knowledge_ in their various degrees, with all
the other advantages of _education_. Such is the _influence_ which we
have over others, whether by their _love_ and _esteem_ of us, or by
_power_: power to do them good or hurt, to help or hinder them in the
circumstances of life. Add to these that invaluable talent of _time_,
with which God intrusts us from moment to moment. Add, lastly, that on
which all the rest depend, and without which they would all be curses,
not blessings: namely, the _grace_ of God, the power of his holy
Spirit, which alone worketh in us all that is acceptable in his sight.


II. 1. *In so many respects are the children of men, stewards of the
Lord, _the Possessor of heaven and earth_. So large a portion of his
goods, of various kinds, hath he committed to their charge. But it is
not for ever, nor indeed for any considerable time. We have this trust
reposed in us, only during the short, uncertain space that we sojourn
here below: only so long as we remain on earth, as this fleeting
breath is in our nostrils. The hour is swiftly approaching, it is
just at hand, when we _can be no longer stewards_. The moment the body
_returns to the dust as it was, and the spirit to God that gave it_,
we bear that character no more; the time of our stewardship is at an
end. Part of those goods wherewith we were before intrusted, are now
come to an end: at least, they are so with regard to _us_: nor are we
longer intrusted with them: and that part which remains, can no longer
be employed or improved as it was before.

2. *Part of what we were intrusted with before, is at an end, at least
with regard to us. What have we to do, after this life, with food,
and raiment, and houses, and earthly possessions? The food of the
dead is the dust of the earth: they are cloathed only with worms and
rottenness. They dwell in _the house prepared for all flesh_: their
lands know them no more. All their worldly goods are delivered into
other hands, and they have _no more portion under the sun_.

3. The case is the same with regard to the _body_. The moment the
spirit returns to God, we are no longer stewards of this machine,
which is then sown in corruption and dishonour. All the parts and
members of which it was composed, lie mouldering in the clay. The
hands have no longer power to move; the feet have forgot their office;
the flesh, sinews, the bones, are all hasting to be dissolved into
common dust.

4. Here end also the talents of a _mixt_ nature, our _strength_; our
_health_; our _beauty_; our _eloquence_, and _address_; our faculty of
pleasing, of persuading, or convincing others. Here end likewise all
the _honours_ we once enjoyed, all the _power_ which was lodged in our
hands, all the _influence_ which we once had over others, either by
the love or the esteem which they bore us. _Our love, our hatred, our
desire is perished_: none regard how we were once affected toward them.
They look upon the dead as neither able to help nor hurt them; so that
a _living dog is better than a dead lion_.

5. *Perhaps a doubt may remain concerning some of the other talents
wherewith we are now intrusted, whether they will cease to exist
when the body returns to dust, or only cease to be improvable. Indeed
there is no doubt, but the kind of _speech_ which we now use, by
means of these bodily organs, will then be intirely at an end, when
those organs are destroyed. It is certain the tongue will no more
occasion any vibrations in the air: neither will the ear convey these
tremulous motions to the common sensory. Even the _sonus exilis_, the
low, shrill voice, which the poet supposes to belong to a separate
spirit, we cannot allow to have a real being; it is a mere flight
of imagination. Indeed it cannot be questioned, but separate spirits
have some way to communicate their sentiments to each other: but
what inhabitant of flesh and blood can explain that way? What we term
_speech_, they cannot have. So that we can no longer be steward of
this talent, when we are numbered with the dead.

6. *It may likewise admit of a doubt, whether our _senses_ will exist,
when the organs of sense are destroyed. Is it not probable, that those
of the lower kind will cease; the feeling, the smell, the taste, as
they have a more immediate reference to the body, and are chiefly,
if not wholly intended for the preservation of it? But will not some
kind of _sight_ remain, although the eye be closed in death? And will
there not be something in the soul, equivalent to the present sense
of _hearing_? Nay, is it not probable, that these will not only exist
in the separate state, but exist in a far greater degree, in a more
eminent manner than now! When the soul, disintangled from its clay,
is no longer.

           “A dying sparkle in a cloudy place;
              when it no longer
            Looks thro’ the windows of the eye and ear.”

But rather is all eye, all ear, all sense, in a manner we cannot yet
conceive. And have we not a clear proof of the possibility of this, of
seeing without the use of the eye, and hearing without the use of the
ear? Yea, and an earnest of it continually? For does not the soul see,
in the clearest manner, when the eye is of no use, namely, in dreams?
Does she not then enjoy the faculty of hearing, without any help from
the ear? But however this be, certain it is, that neither will our
_senses_, any more than our _speech_, be intrusted to us in the manner
they are now, when the body lies in the silent grave.

7. *How far the _knowledge_ or _learning_ which we have gained by
_education_ will then remain, we cannot tell. _Solomon_ indeed says,
_There is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the
grave whither thou goest_. But it is evident, these words cannot be
understood in an absolute sense. For it is so far from being true,
that there is _no knowledge_ after we have quitted the body, that the
doubt lies on the other side, whether there be any such thing as real
knowledge till then? Whether it be not a plain sober truth, not a mere
poetical fiction,

    That “all these shadows which for things we take,
    Are but the empty dreams, which in death’s sleep we make”?

Only excepting those things which God himself has been pleased to
reveal to man. I will speak for one: after having sought for truth
with some diligence for half a century, I am at this day hardly sure
of any thing, but what I learn from the bible. Nay, I positively
affirm, I _know nothing_ else so certainly, that I would dare to stake
my salvation upon it.

So much however we may learn from _Solomon’s_ words, that _that there
is no_ such _knowledge_ or _wisdom in the grave_, as will be of any
use to an unhappy spirit; there _is no device_ there, whereby he
can now improve those talents, with which he was once intrusted. For
_time_ is no more: the time of our trial for everlasting happiness
or misery is past. _Our day_, the day of man, is over; _the day of
salvation is ended_. Nothing now remains but the day of the Lord,
ushering in, wide, unchangeable eternity.

8. But still our souls, being incorruptible and immortal, of a
nature _little lower than the angels_, (even if we are to understand
that phrase of our original nature, which may well admit of a doubt)
when our bodies are mouldered into earth, will remain with all their
faculties. Our _memory_, our _understanding_ will be so far from being
destroyed, yea, or impaired by the dissolution of the body, that on
the contrary, we have reason to believe, they will be inconceivably
♦strengthened. Have we not the clearest reason to believe, that they
will then be wholly freed from those defects, which now naturally
result from the union of the soul with the corruptible body? It is
highly probable, that from the time these are disunited, our memory
will let nothing slip: yea, that it will faithfully exhibit every
thing to our view, which was ever committed to it. It is true, that
the invisible world is in scripture termed _the land of forgetfulness_;
or as it is still more strongly expressed in the old translation, _the
land where all things are forgotten_. They are forgotten; but by whom?
Not by the inhabitants of that land, but by the inhabitants of the
earth. It is with regard to them that the unseen world is _the land of
forgetfulness. All things_ therein _are_ too frequently forgotten by
these; but not by disembodied spirits. From the time they have put off
the earthly tabernacle, we can hardly think they forget any thing.

    ♦ ‘strengthned’ replaced with ‘strengthened’

9. *In like manner the _understanding_ will doubtless be freed, from
the defects that are now inseparable from it. For many ages it has
been an unquestioned maxim, _Humanum est errare & nescire_: Ignorance
and mistake are inseparable from human nature. But the whole of this
assertion is only true, with regard to living men, and holds no longer,
than while _the corruptible body presses down the soul_. Ignorance
indeed belongs to every finite understanding, seeing there is none
beside God that knoweth all things: but not mistake. When the body is
laid aside, this also is laid aside for ever.

10. What then can we say of an ingenious man, who has lately made
a discovery, that disembodied spirits have not only no _senses_
(not even in sight or hearing) but no _memory_ or _understanding_,
no _thought_ or perception, not so much as a _consciousness_ of
their own existence? That they are in a dead sleep from death to the
resurrection? _Consanguineus lethi sopor_ indeed! Such a sleep we may
well call _a near kinsman of death_, if it be not the same thing. What
can we say, but that ingenious men have strange dreams: and these they
sometimes mistake for realities.

11. But to return. As the soul will retain its understanding and
memory, notwithstanding the dissolution of the body, so undoubtedly
the _will_, including all the _affections_, will remain in its full
vigour. If our love or anger, our hope or desire perish, it is only
with regard to those whom we leave behind. To them it matters not,
whether they were the objects of our love or hate, of our desire or
aversion. But in separate spirits themselves, we have no reason to
believe, that any of these are extinguished. It is more probable, that
they work with far greater force, than while the soul was clogged with
flesh and blood.

12. But although all these, although both our knowledge and senses,
our memory and understanding, together with our will, our love,
hate, and all our affections, remain after the body is dropt off, yet
in this respect they are as though they were not, we are no longer
stewards of them. The things continue, but our stewardship does not:
we no more act in that capacity. Even the _grace_ which was formerly
intrusted with us, in order to enable us to be faithful and wise
stewards, is now no longer intrusted for that purpose. The days of
our stewardship are ended.


III. 2. It now remains, that being _no longer stewards_, we _give an
account_ of our _stewardship_. Some have imagined, this is to be done
immediately after death, as soon as we enter into the world of spirits.
Nay, the church of _Rome_ does absolutely assert this; yea, makes it
an article of faith. And thus much we may allow, the moment a soul
drops the body, and stands naked before God, it cannot but know what
its portion will be to all eternity. It will have full in its view,
either everlasting joy, or everlasting torment: as it is no longer
possible for us to be deceived, in the judgment which we pass upon
ourselves. But the scripture gives us no reason to believe, that God
will then sit in judgment upon us. There is no passage in all the
oracles of God, which affirms any such thing. That which has been
frequently alledged for this purpose, seems rather to prove the
contrary: namely, (_Heb._ ix. 27.) _It is appointed for men once to
die, and after this, the judgment._ For in all reason, the word _once_
is here to be applied, to judgment as well as death. So that the fair
inference to be drawn from this very text, is, not that there are two
judgments, a particular and a general: but that we are to be judged
as well as to die, once only: not once immediately after death, and
again after the general resurrection; but then only _when the Son of
Man shall come in his glory, and all his holy angels with him_. The
imagination therefore of one judgment at death, and another at the end
of the world, can have no place with those who make the written word
of God, the whole and sole standard of their faith.

2. The time then when we are to give this account, is when the _great
white throne comes down from heaven, and he that sitteth thereon, from
whose face the heavens and the earth flee away, and there is found no
place for them_. It is then the _dead, small and great_, will _stand
before God: and the books_ will be _opened_; the book of scripture,
to them who were entrusted therewith, the book of conscience to
all mankind. The _book of remembrance_ likewise, (to use another
scriptural expression) which had been written from the foundation of
the world, will then be laid open to the view of all the children of
men. Before all these, even the whole human race, before the devil
and his angels, before an innumerable company of holy angels, and
before God, the Judge of all: thou wilt appear, without any shelter
or covering, without any possibility of disguise, to give a particular
account of the manner wherein thou hast employed all thy Lord’s goods.

3. The judge of all will then enquire, “How didst thou employ thy
_soul_? I intrusted thee with an immortal spirit, endowed with various
powers and faculties, with _understanding, imagination, memory, will,
affections_. I gave thee withal full and express directions, how all
these were to be employed. Didst thou employ thy _understanding_,
as far as it was capable, according to those directions, namely,
in the knowledge of thyself and me? My nature, my attributes? My
works, whether of creation, of providence, or of grace? In acquainting
thyself with my word? In using every means to increase thy knowledge
thereof? In meditating thereon day and night? Didst thou employ thy
_memory_ according to my will? In treasuring up whatever knowledge
thou hadst acquired, which might conduce to my glory, to thy own
salvation, or the advantage of others? Didst thou store up therein,
not things of no value, but whatever instruction thou hadst learned
from my word: and whatever experience thou hadst gained, of my wisdom,
truth, power, and mercy? Was thy _imagination_ employed, not in
painting vain images, much less such as nourished _foolish and hurtful
desires_, but in representing to thee whatever would profit thy soul,
and awaken thy pursuit of wisdom and holiness? Didst thou follow my
directions with regard to thy _will_? Was it wholly given up to me?
Was it swallowed up in mine, so as never to oppose, but always run
parallel with it? Were thy _affections_ placed and regulated in such
a manner, as I appointed in my word? Didst thou give me thy heart?
Didst thou not love the world, neither the things of the world? Was
I the object of thy love? Was all thy desire unto me, and unto the
remembrance of my name? Was I the joy of thy heart, the delight of
thy soul, the chief among ten thousand? Didst thou sorrow for nothing
but what grieved my Spirit? Didst thou fear and hate nothing but sin?
Did the whole stream of thy affections flow back to the ocean from
whence they came? Were thy _thoughts_ employed according to my will?
Not in ranging to the ends of the earth, not on folly, or sin: but
on _whatsoever things were pure, whatsoever things were holy_, on
whatsoever was conducive to my _glory_, and to _peace and good-will
among men_?”

4. The Lord will then inquire, “How didst thou employ the _body_
wherewith I intrusted thee? I gave thee a _tongue_, to praise me
therewith: didst thou use it to the end for which it was given?
Didst thou employ it, not in evil-speaking or idle-speaking, not in
uncharitable or unprofitable conversation: but in such as was good, as
was necessary or useful, either to thyself or others? Such as always
tended, directly or indirectly, to _minister grace to the hearers_?
I gave thee, together with thy other _senses_, those grand avenues
of knowledge, _sight_ and _hearing_: were these employed to those
excellent purposes for which they were bestowed upon thee? In bringing
thee in more and more instruction in righteousness and true holiness?
I gave thee hands and feet and various _members_ wherewith to perform
the works which were prepared for thee: were they employed, not in
doing _the will of the flesh_, of thy evil nature, or _the will of
the mind_, (the things to which thy reason or fancy led thee,) but
_the will of him that sent_ thee into the world, merely to work out
thy own salvation? Didst thou present all thy members, not to sin, as
instruments of unrighteousness, but to me alone, through the Son of my
love, _as instruments of righteousness_?”

5. The Lord of all will next enquire, “How didst thou employ the
_worldly goods_ which I lodged in thy hands? Didst thou use thy
food, not so as to seek or place thy happiness therein, but so as to
preserve the body in health, in strength, and vigour, a fit instrument
for the soul? Didst thou use apparel, not to nourish pride or vanity,
much less to tempt others to sin, but conveniently and decently to
defend thyself from the injuries of the weather? Didst thou prepare
and use thy house and all other conveniencies, with a single eye to my
glory? In every point seeking not thy own honour, but mine: studying
to please not thyself, but me? Once more: in what manner didst thou
employ that comprehensive talent _money_? Not in gratifying the
desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, or the pride of life? Not
squandering it away in vain expences, the same as throwing it into the
sea? Not hoarding it up to leave behind thee, the same as burying it
in the earth? But first supplying thy own reasonable wants, together
with those of thy family: then restoring the remainder to me, through
the poor, whom I had appointed to receive it: looking upon thyself
as only one of that number of poor, whose wants were to be supplied
out of that part of my substance, which I had placed in thy hands for
this purpose: leaving thee the right of being supplied first, and the
blessedness of giving rather than receiving? Wast thou accordingly
a general benefactor to mankind? Feeding the ♦hungry, cloathing the
naked, comforting the sick, assisting the stranger, relieving the
afflicted, according to their various necessities? Wast thou eyes to
the blind, and feet to the lame? A father to the fatherless, and an
husband to the widow? And didst thou labour to improve all outward
works of mercy, as means of saving souls from death?”

    ♦ ‘hungery’ replaced with ‘hungry’

6. Thy Lord will ♦farther enquire, “Hast thou been a wise and faithful
steward, with regard to the talents of a mixt nature which I lent
thee? Didst thou employ thy _health_ and _strength_, not in folly or
sin, not in the pleasures which perished in the using, _not in making
provision for the flesh, to fulfil the desires thereof_, but in a
vigorous pursuit of that better part, which none could take away
from thee? Didst thou employ whatever was pleasing in thy _person_
or _address_, whatever advantages thou hadst by _education_, whatever
share of _learning_, whatever _knowledge_ of things or men was
committed to thee, for the promoting of virtue in the world, for the
enlargement of my kingdom? Didst thou employ whatever share of _power_
thou hadst, whatever _influence_ over others, by the love or esteem
of thee which they had conceived, for the increase of their wisdom
and holiness? Didst thou employ that inestimable talent of _time_,
with wariness and circumspection, as duly weighing the value of every
moment, and knowing that all were numbered in eternity? Above all,
wast thou a good steward of my _grace_, preventing, accompanying, and
following thee? Did thou duly observe and carefully improve all the
influences of my Spirit? Every good desire? Every measure of light?
All his sharp or gentle reproofs? How didst thou profit by _the Spirit
of Bondage and fear_, which was previous to _the Spirit of Adoption_?
And when thou wast made a partaker of this Spirit, _crying in thy
heart, Abba, Father_, didst thou stand fast in the glorious liberty
wherewith I made thee free? Didst thou from thenceforth present thy
soul and body, all thy thoughts, thy words and actions, in one flame
of love, as an holy sacrifice, glorifying me with thy body and thy
spirit? Then _well-done, good and faithful servant! Enter thou into
the joy of thy Lord!_” And what will remain, either to the faithful or
unfaithful steward? Nothing but the execution of that sentence, which
has been passed by the righteous Judge; fixing thee in a state which
admits of no change, through everlasting ages. It remains only, that
thou be rewarded to all eternity, according to thy works.

    ♦ ‘faarther’ replaced with ‘farther’


IV. 1. From these plain considerations we may learn, first, How
important is this short, uncertain day of life! How precious, above
all utterance, above all conception, is every portion of it!

         “The least of these a serious care demands;
          For tho’ they’re little, they are golden sands!”

How deeply does it concern every child of man, to let none of these
run to waste; but to improve them all to the noblest purposes, as long
as the breath of God is in his nostrils!

2. We learn from hence, secondly, that there is no employment of our
time, no action or conversation that is purely _indifferent_. All is
good or bad, because all our time, as every thing we have, is _not
our own_. All these are, as our Lord speaks, τὰ ἀλλότρια, the property
of another; of God, our Creator. Now these either are, or are not
employed, according to his will. If they are so employed, all is good;
if they are not, all is evil. Again: it is his will, that we should
continually grow in grace, and in the living knowledge of our Lord
Jesus Christ. Consequently, every thought, word, and work whereby this
knowledge is increased, whereby we grow in grace, is good: and every
one whereby this knowledge is not increased, is truly and properly
evil.

3. We learn from hence, thirdly, that there are no works of
supererogation; that we can never do more than our duty: seeing all we
have is not our own, but God’s, all we can do is due to him. We have
not received this or that, or many things only, but every thing from
him: therefore every thing is his due. He that gives us all, must
needs have a right to all. So that if we pay him any thing less than
all, we cannot be _faithful stewards_. And considering _every man
shall receive his own reward, according to his own_ labour, we cannot
be _wise stewards_, unless we labour to the uttermost of our power:
not leaving any thing undone, which we possibly can do, but putting
forth all our strength.

4. Brethren, _Who is an understanding man and endued with knowledge
among you_? Let him shew the wisdom from above; by walking suitably
to his character. If he so account of himself, as a steward of the
manifold gifts of God, let him see that all his thoughts, and words,
and works be agreeable to the post God has assigned him. It is no
small thing, to lay out for God all which you have received from God.
It requires all your wisdom, all your resolution, all your patience
and constancy: far more than ever you had by nature: but not more than
you may have by grace. For his grace is sufficient for you, and _all
things_, you know, _are possible to him that believeth_. By faith then,
_put on the Lord Jesus Christ; put on the whole armour of God_, and
you shall be enabled to glorify him in all your words and works, yea,
to bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.

  EDINBURGH,
  _May 14, 1768_.




                             SERMON LII.¹

  ¹ Preached before the Society for Reformation of Manners, on
    Sunday, January 30, 1763, at the Chappel in West-street,
    Seven Dials.


                           PSALM xciv. 16.

  _Who will rise up with me against the wicked?_

1. IN all ages, men who neither feared God nor regarded man, have
combined together and formed confederacies, to carry on the works
of darkness. And herein they have shewn themselves wise in their
generation; for by this means they more effectually promoted the
kingdom of their father, the devil, than otherwise they could have
done. On the other hand, men who did fear God and desire the happiness
of their fellow-creatures, have in every age found it needful to join
together, in order to oppose the works of darkness, to spread the
knowledge of God their Saviour, and to promote his kingdom upon earth.
Indeed he himself has instructed them so to do. From the time that
men were upon the earth, he hath taught them to join together in his
service, and has united them in one body by one spirit. And for this
very end he has joined them together, _that he might destroy the works
of the devil_, first in them that are already united, and by them in
all that are round about them.

2. This is the original design of the church of Christ. It is a
body of men compacted together, in order first, to save each his
own soul, then to assist each other in working out their salvation,
and afterwards as far as in them lies, to save all men from present
and future misery, to overturn the kingdom of Satan, and set up
the kingdom of Christ. And this ought to be the continued care and
endeavour of every member of his church. Otherwise he is not worthy
to be called a member thereof, as he is not a living member of Christ.

3. Accordingly this ought to be the constant care and endeavour of
all those, who are united together in these kingdoms, and are commonly
called _The Church of England_. They are united together for this very
end, to oppose the devil and all his works, and to wage war against
the world and the flesh, his constant and faithful allies. But do they
in fact answer the end of their union? Are all who stile themselves
“members of the church of _England_” heartily engaged in opposing the
works of the devil, and fighting against the world and the flesh? Alas,
we cannot say this. So far from it, that a great part, I fear, the
greater part of them, are themselves _the world_, the people that know
not God, to any saving purpose: are indulging, day by day, instead
of _mortifying the flesh, with its affections and desires_; and doing
themselves those works of the devil, which they are peculiarly engaged
to destroy.

4. There is therefore still need, even in this _Christian country_
(as we _courteously_ stile _Great Britain_) yea, in this _Christian
church_ (if we may give that title to the bulk of our nation) of
some to _rise up against the wicked_, and join together _against the
evil-doers_. Nay, there was never more need than there is at this day,
for _them that fear the Lord_, to _speak often together_, on this very
head, how they may _lift up a standard against the iniquity_ which
overflows the land. There is abundant cause for all the servants of
God, to join together against the works of the devil, with united
hearts and counsels and endeavours, to make a stand for God, and to
repress, as much as in them lies, these _floods of ungodliness_.

5. For this end a few persons in _London_, towards the close of the
last century, united together, and after awhile were termed, “The
Society for Reformation of Manners.” And incredible good was done by
them, for near forty years. But then most of the original members,
being gone to their reward, those who succeeded them grew faint in
their mind, and departed from the work. So that a few years ago the
society ceased, nor did any of the kind remain in the kingdom.

6. It is a society of the same nature, which has been lately formed.
I purpose to shew, first, The nature of their design, and the _steps_
they have hitherto taken; 2. The _excellency_ of it, with the various
_objections_ which have been raised against it; 3. _What manner of
men_ they ought to be, who engage in such a design; and 4. With what
_spirit_ and in what _manner_ they should proceed in the prosecution
of it. I shall conclude with an _application_ both to them, and to all
that fear God.


I. 1. I am, first, to shew the _nature_ of their design and the
_steps_ they have hitherto taken.

It was on a Lord’s day in _August_ 1757, that in a small company, who
were met for prayer and religious conversation, mention was made of
the gross and open profanation of that sacred day, by persons buying
and selling, keeping open shop, tippling in ale-houses, and standing
or sitting in the streets, roads or fields, vending their wares as
on common days: especially in _Moorfields_, which was then full of
them every Sunday, from one end to the other. It was considered, what
method could be taken, to redress these grievances? And it was agreed,
that six of them should in the morning wait upon Sir _John Fielding_
for instruction. They did so. He approved of the design, and directed
them how to carry it into execution.

2. They first delivered petitions to the Right Honourable the
Lord Mayor and the court of Aldermen, to the Justices sitting at
_Hick’s-Hall_, and those in _Westminster-Hall_. And they received
from all these honourable benches much encouragement to proceed.

3. It was next judged proper, to signify their design to many persons
of eminent rank, and to the body of the clergy, as well as the
ministers of other denominations, belonging to the several churches
and meetings, in and about the cities of _London_ and _Westminster_.
And they had the satisfaction to meet with an hearty consent and
universal approbation from them.

4. They then printed and dispersed, at their own expence, several
thousand books of instruction, to constables and other parish-officers,
explaining and inforcing their several duties. And to prevent, as far
as possible, the necessity of proceeding to an actual execution of the
laws, they likewise printed and dispersed, in all parts of the town,
dissuasives from sabbath-breaking, extracts from acts of parliament
against it, and notices to the offenders.

5. The way being paved by these precautions, it was in the beginning
of the year 1758, that after notices delivered again and again,
which were as often set at nought, actual informations were made
to magistrates, against persons profaning the Lord’s day. By this
means they first cleared the streets and fields, of those notorious
offenders, who without any regard either to God or the King, were
selling their wares from morning to night. They proceeded to a more
difficult attempt, the preventing _tippling_ on the Lord’s day,
spending the time in ale-houses which ought to be spent in the more
immediate worship of God. Herein they were exposed to abundance of
reproach, to insult and abuse of every kind: having not only the
tipplers and those who entertained them, the ale-house-keepers, to
contend with, but rich and honourable men, partly the landlords of
those ale-house-keepers, partly those who furnished them with drink,
and in general all who gained by their sins. Some of these were not
only men of substance, but men of authority; nay, in more instances
than one, they were the very persons before whom the delinquents were
brought. And the treatment they gave those who laid the informations,
naturally encouraged _the beasts of the people_, to follow their
example, and to use them as fellows not fit to live upon the earth.
Hence they made no scruple, not only to treat them with the basest
language, not only to throw at them mud or stones or whatever came to
hand, but many times to beat them without mercy, and to drag them over
the stones, or through the kennels. And that they did not murder them,
was not for want of will; but the bridle was in their teeth.

6. Having therefore received help from God, they went on to restrain
_Bakers_ likewise, from spending so great a part of the Lord’s day,
in exercising the works of their calling. But many of these were more
noble than the victuallers. They were so far from resenting this,
or looking upon it as an affront, that several who had been hurried
down the stream of custom, to act contrary to their own conscience,
sincerely thanked them for their labour and acknowledged it as a real
kindness.

7. In clearing the streets, fields and ale-houses of sabbath-breakers,
they fell upon another sort of offenders as mischievous to society as
any, namely, _Gamesters_ of various kinds. Some of these were of the
lowest and vilest class, commonly called _gamblers_, who make a trade
of seizing on young, and unexperienced men, and tricking them out of
all their money. And after they have beggared them, they frequently
teach them the same mystery of iniquity. Several nests of these they
have rooted out, and constrained not a few of them, honestly to earn
their bread by the sweat of their brow, and the labour of their hands.

8. Increasing in number and strength, they extended their views, and
began not only to repress _profane swearing_, but to remove out of our
streets, another public nuisance and scandal of the Christian name,
_common prostitutes_. Many of these were stopped in their mid career
of audacious wickedness. And in order to go to the root of the disease,
many of the _houses_ that entertained them, have been detected,
prosecuted according to law, and totally suppressed. And some of the
poor, desolate women themselves, tho’ fallen to

                “The lowest line of human infamy”

have acknowledged the gracious providence of God, and broke off their
sins by lasting repentance. Several of these have been placed out, and
several received into the _Magdalen Hospital_.

9. If a little digression may be allowed, who can sufficiently admire
the wisdom of Divine Providence, in the disposal of the times and
seasons, so as to suit one occurrence to another? For instance. Just
at a time when many of these poor creatures, being stopt in their
course of sin, found a desire of leading a better life, as it were
in answer to that sad question, “But if I quit the way I now am in,
what can I do to live? For I am not mistress of any trade; and I have
no friends that will receive me:” I say, just at this time, God has
prepared the _Magdalen Hospital_. Here those who have no trade, nor
any friends to receive them, are received with all tenderness. Here
they may live, and that with comfort, being provided with all things,
that are needful _for life and godliness_.

10. But to return. The number of persons brought to justice, from
_August_ 1757, to _August_ 1762 is

                                                      9596
      From thence to the present time:
        For unlawful gaming, and profane ♦swearing,     40
        For sabbath-breaking,                          400
        Lewd women and keepers of ill houses,          550
        For offering to sale obscene prints,             2
                                                    ──────
                                    In all          10,588

    ♦ ‘swering’ replaced with ‘swearing’

11. In the admission of members into the society, no regard is had to
any particular sect or party. Whoever is found upon enquiry to be a
good man, is readily admitted. And none who has selfish or pecuniary
views, will long continue therein: not only because he can gain
nothing thereby, because he would quickly be a loser: inasmuch as he
must commence subscriber, as soon as he is a member. Indeed the vulgar
cry is “These are all _Whitfelites_.” But it is a great mistake. About
twenty of the constantly subscribing members, are all that are in
connexion with Mr. _Whitefield_. About fifty are in connexion with
Mr. _Wesley_. About twenty, who are of the established Church, have
no connexion with either: and about seventy are dissenters, who make
in all an hundred and sixty. There are indeed many more, who assist
in the work by occasional subscriptions.


II. 1. These are the steps which have been hitherto taken, in
prosecution of this design. I am in the second place, to shew, the
_excellency_ thereof, notwithstanding the _objections_ which have been
raised against it. Now this may appear from several considerations.
And first, from hence: That the making an open stand, against all the
ungodliness and unrighteousness, which overspread our land as a flood,
is one of the noblest ways of confessing Christ in the face of his
enemies. It is giving glory to God, and shewing mankind, that even in
these dregs of time

                    “There are, who faith prefer,
                  Tho’ few, and piety to God.”

And what more excellent, than to render to God, the honour due unto
his name? To declare by a stronger proof than words, even by suffering,
and running all hazards, _Verily there is a reward for the righteous;
doubtless there is a God that judgeth the earth_.

2. How excellent is the design, to prevent in any degree, the
dishonour done to his glorious name, the contempt which is poured
on his authority, and the scandal brought upon our holy religion, by
the gross, flagrant wickedness of those who are still called by the
name of Christ? To stem in any degree the torrent of vice, to repress
the floods of ungodliness, to remove in any measure those occasions
of blaspheming the worthy name whereby we are called, is one of
the noblest designs it can possibly enter into the heart of man to
conceive.

3. And as this design thus evidently tends, to bring _glory to God in
the highest_, so it no less manifestly conduces, to the establishing
_peace upon earth_. For as all sin directly tends, both to destroy our
peace with God, by setting him at open defiance, to banish peace from
our own breasts, and to set every man’s sword against his neighbour:
so whatever prevents or removes sin, does in the same degree promote
peace, both peace in our own soul, peace with God, and peace with
one another. Such are the genuine fruits of this design, even in
the present world. But why should we confine our views to the narrow
bounds of time and space? Rather pass over these into eternity. And
what fruit of it shall we find there? Let the apostle speak: _Brethren,
if one of you err from the truth, and one convert him_ (not to this
or that opinion, but to God!) _let him know, that he who converteth
a sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and
hide a multitude of sins_, Jam. v. 19, 20.

4. Nor is it to individuals only, whether those who betray others
into sin, or those that are liable to be betrayed and destroyed
by them, that the benefit of this design redounds, but to the whole
community whereof we are members. For is it not a sure observation,
_righteousness exalteth a nation_? And is it not as sure on the other
hand, that _sin is a reproach_ to any _people_? Yea, and bringeth down
the curse of God upon them? So far therefore as righteousness in any
branch is promoted, so far is the national interest advanced. So far
as sin, especially open sin is restrained, the curse and reproach are
removed from us. Whoever therefore they are that labour herein, they
are general benefactors. They are the truest friends of their king
and country. And in the same proportion as their design takes place,
there can be no doubt, but God will give national prosperity, in
accomplishment of his faithful word, _Them that honour me, I will
honour_.

5. But it is objected, “However excellent a design this is, it does
not concern _you_. For are there not persons, to whom the repressing
these offences and punishing the offenders properly belong? Are
there not constables and other parish-officers, who are bound by
oath to this very thing?” There are constables and church-wardens in
particular, who are engaged by solemn oaths, to give due information
against profaners of the Lord’s day, and all other scandalous sinners.
But if they leave it undone, if notwithstanding their oaths, they
trouble not themselves about the matter, it concerns all that fear God,
that love mankind, and that wish well to their king and country, to
pursue this design with the very same vigour, as if there were no
officers existing. It being just the same thing, if they are of no use,
as if they had no being.

6. “But this is only a pretence: their real design, is to get money by
giving informations.” So it has frequently and roundly been affirmed;
but without the least shadow of truth. The contrary may be proved
by a thousand instances: no member of the society, takes any part of
the money which is by the law allotted to the informer. They never
did from the beginning: nor does any of them ever receive any thing,
to suppress or withdraw their information. This is another mistake,
if not wilful slander, for which there is not the least foundation.

♦7. “But the design is impracticable. Vice is risen to such an head,
that it is impossible to suppress it: especially by such means.
For what can an handful of poor people, do in opposition to all the
world?” _With men this is impossible, but not with God._ And they
trust, not in themselves, but him. Be then the patrons of vice ever
so strong, to him they are no more than grasshoppers. And all means
are alike to him. It is the same thing with God _to deliver by many
or by few_. The small number therefore of those who are on the Lord’s
side is nothing, neither the great number of those that are against
him. Still he doth whatever pleaseth him. And _there is no counsel or
strength against the Lord_.

    ♦ ‘9’ replaced with ‘7’

8. “But if the end you aim at, be really to reform sinners, you chuse
the wrong means. It is the word of God must effect this, and not human
laws. And it is the work of ministers, not of magistrates. Therefore
the applying to these, can only produce an outward reformation. It
makes no change in the heart.”

It is true the word of God is the chief, ordinary means, whereby he
changes both the hearts and lives of sinners: and he does this chiefly
by the ministers of the gospel. But it is likewise true, that the
magistrate is _the minister of God_: and that he is designed of God
_to be a terror to evil doers_, by executing human laws upon them.
If this does not change the heart, yet to prevent outward sin, is
one valuable point gain’d. There is so much the less dishonour done
to God, less scandal brought on our holy religion, less curse and
reproach upon our nation, less temptation laid in the way of others.
Yea, and less wrath heaped up by the sinners themselves against the
day of wrath.

9. “Nay, rather more: for it makes many of them hypocrites, pretending
to be what they are not. Others, by exposing them to shame, and
putting them to expence, are made impudent and desperate in wickedness:
so that in reality none of them are any better, if they are not worse
than they were before.”

This is a mistake all over. For 1. Where are these hypocrites? We
know none who have pretended to be what they were not. 2. The exposing
obstinate offenders to shame, and putting them to expence, does not
make them desperate in offending, but afraid to offend. 3. Some of
them, far from being worse, are substantially better, the whole tenor
of their lives being changed. Yea 4. Some are inwardly changed, even
_from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God_.

10. “But many are not convinced, that buying or selling on the Lord’s
day is a sin.”

If they are not convinced, they ought to be: it is high time they
should. The case is as plain as plain can be. For if an open, wilful
breach both of the law of God and the law of the land, is not sin,
pray what is? And if such a breach both of divine and human laws is
not to be punished, because a man is not convinced it is a sin, there
is an end of all execution of justice, and all men may live as they
list.

11. “But _mild_ methods ought to be tried first.” They ought. And so
they are. A mild admonition is given to every offender, before the law
is put in execution against him: nor is any man prosecuted, till he
has express notice, that this will be the case, unless he will prevent
that prosecution, by removing the cause of it. In every case the
mildest method is used, which the nature of the case will bear: nor
are severer means ever applied, but when they are absolutely necessary
to the end.

12. “Well, but after all this stir about reformation, what real good
has been done?” Unspeakable good; and abundantly more, than any one
could have expected, in so short a time, considering the small number
of the instruments, and the difficulties they had to encounter. Much
evil has been already prevented, and much has been removed. Many
sinners have been outwardly reformed; some have been inwardly changed.
The honour of him whose name we bear, so openly affronted, has been
openly defended. And it is not easy to determine, how many and how
great blessings, even this little stand, made for God and his cause,
against his daring enemies, may already have derived upon our whole
nation. On the whole then, after all the objections that can be made,
reasonable men may still conclude, a more excellent design could
scarce ever enter into the heart of man.


III. 1. But _what manner of men_ ought they to be, who engage in such
a design? Some may imagine, any that are willing to assist therein,
ought readily to be admitted; and that the greater the number of
members, the greater will be their influence. But this is by no means
true: matter of fact undeniably proves the contrary. While the former
society for reformation of manners, consisted of chosen members only,
tho’ neither many, rich, nor powerful, they broke thro’ all opposition,
and were eminently successful in every branch of their undertaking.
But when a number of men, less carefully chosen, were received into
that society, they grew less and less useful, till by insensible
degrees, they dwindled into nothing.

2. The _number_ therefore of the members is no more to be attended to,
than the riches or eminence. This is a work of God. It is undertaken
in the name of God, and for his sake. It follows, that men who neither
love nor fear God, have no part or lot in this matter, _Why takest
thou my covenant in thy mouth_, may God say to any of these, _whereas
thou_ thyself _hatest to be reformed, and hast cast my words behind
thee_? Whoever therefore lives in any known sin, is not fit to engage
in reforming sinners. More especially if he is guilty in any instance,
or in the least degree, of profaning the name of God, or buying,
selling or doing any unnecessary work on the Lord’s day, or offending
in any other of those instances, which this society is peculiarly
designed to reform. No: let none who stands himself in need of this
reformation, presume to meddle with such an undertaking. First,
let him _pull the beam out of his own eye_. Let him be himself
_unblamable_ in all things.

3. Not that this will suffice. Every one engaging herein, should be
more than a harmless man. He should be a man of _faith_: having at
least such a degree of that _evidence of things not seen_, as to _aim
not at the things that are seen, which are temporal, but at those that
are not seen, which are eternal_: such a faith, as produces a steady
_fear of God_, with a lasting resolution, by his grace to abstain
from all that he has forbidden, and to do all that he has commanded.
He will more especially need, that particular branch of faith,
_confidence in God_. It is this faith which _removes mountains_, which
_quenches the violence of fire_, which breaks thro’ all opposition,
and enables one to stand against and _chase a thousand_, knowing in
whom his strength lies, and even when he has _the sentence of death in
himself, trusting in him who raiseth the dead_.

4. He that has faith and confidence in God, will of consequence be
a man of _courage_. And such it is highly needful every man should
be, who engages in this undertaking. For many things will occur in
the prosecution thereof, which are terrible to nature: indeed so
terrible, that all who _confer with flesh and blood_ will be afraid to
incounter them. Here therefore true courage has its proper place, and
is necessary in the highest degree. And this, faith only can supply.
A believer can say,

                    I fear no denial;
                      No danger I fear:
                    Nor start from the trial;
                      For Jesus is near.

5. To _courage, patience_ is nearly allied: the one regarding future,
the other present evils. And whoever joins in carrying on a design of
this nature, will have great occasion for this. For notwithstanding
all his unblamableness, he will find himself just in _Ishmael_’s
situation, _his hand against every man, and every man’s hand against
him_. And no wonder. If it be true, that _all who will live godly,
shall suffer persecution_, how eminently must this be fulfilled in
them, who not content to live godly themselves, compel the ungodly to
do so too, or at least to refrain from notorious ungodliness? Is not
this, declaring war against all the world? Setting all the children of
the devil at defiance? And will not Satan himself, _the prince of this
world, the ruler of the darkness_ thereof, exert all his subtlety and
all his force, in support of his tottering kingdom? Who can expect,
the _roaring lion_ will tamely submit to have the prey plucked out of
his teeth? _Ye have_ therefore _need of patience_, that _when ye have
done the will of God ye may receive the promise_.

6. And ye have need of _steddiness_, that ye may _hold fast_ this
_profession of your faith without wavering_. This also should be
found in all that unite in this society; which is not a task for a
_double-minded man_, for one that is _unstable in his ways_. He that
is as a reed shaken with the wind, is not fit for this warfare, which
demands a firm purpose of soul, a constant, determined resolution.
One that is wanting in this, may _set his hand to the plow_: but
how soon will he _look back_? He may indeed _endure for a time. But
when persecution or tribulation_, public or private troubles, _arise
because of the_ work, _immediately he is offended_.

7. Indeed it is hard for any to persevere in so unpleasing a work,
unless _love_ overpowers both pain and fear. And therefore it is
highly expedient that all engaged therein, have _the love of God shed
abroad in their hearts_: that they should all be able to declare, _we
love him, because he first loved us_. The presence of him whom their
soul loveth, will then make their labour light. They can then say, not
from the wildness of an heated imagination, but with the utmost truth,
♦and soberness.

    ♦ duplicate ‘and’ removed

                With thee conversing, I forget
                  All time, and toil, and care:
                Labour is rest, and pain is sweet,
                  While thou, my God, art here.

8. What adds a still greater sweetness even to labour and pain, is the
Christian _love of our neighbour_. When they _love their neighbour_,
that is, every soul of man, _as themselves_, as their own souls; when
_the love of Christ constrains_ them to love one another, _even as
he loved us_; when, as he _tasted death for every man_, so they are
_ready to lay down their life for their brethren_, (including in that
number, _every man_, every soul for which Christ died:) what prospect
of danger will then be able to fright them from their labour of love?
What suffering will they not be ready to undergo, to save one soul
from everlasting burnings? What continuance of labour, disappointment,
pain, will vanquish their fixt resolution! Will they not be

         “Gainst all repulses steeled, nor ever tired,
          With ♦toilsome day, or ill-succeeding night?”

So love both _hopeth and endureth all things_. So _charity never
faileth_.

    ♦ ‘toilsom’ replaced with ‘toilsome’

9. Love is necessary for all the members of such a society, on another
account likewise; even because it _is not puffed up_; it produces not
only courage and patience, but _humility_. And O! how needful is this
for all who are so employed! What can be of more importance, than
that they should be little, and mean, and base, and vile in their own
eyes? For otherwise, should they think themselves any thing, should
they impute any thing to themselves, should they admit any thing of a
_pharisaic_ spirit, _trusting in themselves that they were righteous,
and despising others_: nothing could more directly tend to overthrow
the whole design. For then they would not only have all the world, but
also God himself to contend with; seeing he _resisteth the proud, and
giveth grace_ only _to the humble_. Deeply conscious therefore should
every member of this society be, of his own foolishness, weakness,
helplessness: continually hanging with his whole soul upon him, who
alone hath wisdom and strength, with an unspeakable conviction, that
_the help which is done upon earth, God doth it himself_; and that it
is he _alone who worketh in us, both to will and to do, of his good
pleasure_.

10. One point more, whoever engages in this design should have deeply
imprest on his heart, namely, that _the wrath of man worketh not the
righteousness of God_. Let him therefore _learn of_ him _who was meek_
as well as lowly. And let him abide in meekness as well as humility:
_With all lowliness and meekness_, let him _walk worthy of the
vocation wherewith he is called_. Let him be _gentle toward all men_,
good or bad, for his own sake, for their sake, for Christ’s sake.
Are any _ignorant and out of the way_? Let him _have compassion_ upon
them. Do they even _oppose_ the word and the work of God, yea set
themselves in battle array against it? So much the more hath he need,
_in meekness to instruct those who_ thus _oppose themselves_, if haply
they may _awake out of the snare of the devil_, and no more be _taken
captive at his will_.


IV. 1. From the _qualifications_ of those who are proper to engage
in such an undertaking as this, I proceed to shew, fourthly, With
what _spirit_, and in what _manner_, it ought to be pursued. First,
with what spirit. Now this first regards the _motive_ which is to
be preserved, in every step that is taken. For _if_ at any time _the
light which is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness_? But
_if thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light_. This
is therefore continually to be remembred, and carried into every word
and action. Nothing is to be spoke or done, either great or small,
with a view to any temporal advantage: nothing with a view to the
favour or esteem, the love or the praise of men. But the intention,
the eye of the mind is always to be fixt on the glory of God and good
of man.

2. But the Spirit with which every thing is to be done, regards the
_temper_, as well as the motive. And this is no other than that, which
has been described above. For the same courage, patience, steddiness,
which qualify a man for the work, are to be exercised therein. _Above
all_, let him _take the shield of faith_: this will quench a thousand
fiery darts. Let him exert all the faith which God has given him, in
every trying hour. And let _all_ his _doings be done in love_: never
let this be wrested from him. Neither must _many_ waters quench this
love, nor the floods of ingratitude drown it. _Let_ likewise that
lowly _mind_ be in him, which was also in Christ Jesus. Yea, and let
him _be cloathed with humility_, filling his heart, and adorning his
whole behaviour. At the same time, let him _put on bowels of mercies,
gentleness, long-suffering_: avoiding the least appearance of malice,
bitterness, anger or resentment; knowing, it is our calling, not to
be _overcome of evil, but_ to _overcome evil with good_. In order
to preserve this humble, gentle love, it is needful to do all things
with _recollection_ of spirit, _watching_ against all _hurry_, or
dissipation of thought, as well as against pride, wrath, or surliness.
But this can be no otherwise preserved, than by _continuing instant in
prayer_, both before and after he comes into the field; and during the
whole action; and by doing all in the _spirit of sacrifice_, offering
all to God, thro’ the Son of his love.

3. As to the outward _manner_ of acting, a general rule is, let it
be expressive of these inward tempers. But to be more particular.
1. Let every man beware, not to _do evil that good may come_.
Therefore _putting away all lying_, let every man _speak the truth to
his neighbour_. Use no _fraud_ or _guile_, either in order to detect
or to punish any man, but _by simplicity or godly sincerity commend_
yourself to mens _consciences in the sight of_ God. It is probable,
that by your adhering to these rules, fewer offenders will be
convicted. But so much the more will the blessing of God accompany
the whole undertaking.

4. But let innocence be joined with _prudence_, properly so called.
Not that offspring of hell, which _the world calls_ prudence, which is
mere craft, cunning, dissimulation: but with that _wisdom from above_,
which our Lord peculiarly recommends, to all who would promote his
kingdom upon earth. _Be ye_ therefore _wise as serpents_, while ye are
_harmless as doves_. This wisdom will instruct you, how to suit your
words and whole behaviour, to the persons with whom you have to do,
to the time, place, and all other circumstances. It will teach you to
cut off occasion of offence, even from those who seek occasion, and to
do things of the most offensive nature, in the least offensive manner
that is possible.

5. Your _manner of speaking_, particularly to offenders, should be
at all times deeply _serious_, (lest it appear like insulting or
triumphing over them) rather inclining to _sad_: shewing that you
pity them, for what they do, and sympathize with them in what they
suffer. Let your _air_ and _tone_ of voice, as well as words, be
_dispassionate, calm, mild_: yea, where it would not appear like
dissimulation, even _kind_ and _friendly_. In some cases, where it
will probably be received as it is meant, you may _profess_ the
_good-will_ you bear them: but at the same time, (that it may not be
thought to proceed from fear, or any wrong inclination) professing
your _intrepidity_ and inflexible _resolution_, to oppose and punish
vice to the uttermost.


V. 1. It remains only to make some application of what has been said,
partly to you who are already engaged in this work, partly to all that
fear God, and more especially to them that love as well as fear him.

With regard to you, who are already engaged in this work, the first
advice I would give you is, calmly and deeply to consider, the nature
of your undertaking. Know what you are about; be throughly acquainted
with what you have in hand. Consider the objections which are made to
the whole of your undertaking. And before you proceed, be satisfied
that those objections have no real weight. Then may every man act, as
he is fully persuaded in his own mind.

2. I advise you, secondly, be not in haste, to increase your number.
And in adding thereto, regard not wealth, rank, or any outward
circumstance. Only regard the qualifications above described. Enquire
diligently, Whether the person proposed be of an _unblamable_ carriage,
and whether he be a man of _faith, courage, patience, steddiness_?
Whether he be a _lover_ of God and man? If so, he will add to your
strength as well as number. If not, you will lose by him more than
you gain. For you will displease God. And be not afraid to purge out
from among you, any who do not answer the preceding character. By thus
lessening your number, you will increase your strength: you will be
_vessels meet for your master’s use_.

3. I would, thirdly, advise you, narrowly to observe from what
_motive_, you at any time act or speak. Beware that your intention
be not stained, with any regard either to profit or praise. Whatever
you do, _do it to the Lord_, as the servants of Christ. Do not aim at
pleasing yourself in any point, but pleasing him whose you are, and
whom you serve. Let your eye be single, from first to last: eye God
alone in every word and work.

4. I advise you, in the fourth place, see that you do every thing
in a right _temper_: with lowliness, and meekness, with patience and
gentleness, worthy the gospel of Christ. Take every step trusting in
God, and in the most tender, loving spirit you are able. Mean time
_watch always_, against all hurry and dissipation of spirit, and _pray
always_ with all earnestness and perseverance, that your faith fail
not. And let nothing interrupt that _spirit of sacrifice_, which you
make of all you have and are, of all you suffer and do, that it may be
an offering of a sweet smelling savour to God through Jesus Christ.

5. As to the _manner_ of acting and speaking, I advise you to do it
with all innocence and simplicity, prudence and seriousness. Add to
these all possible calmness and mildness; nay, all the tenderness
which the case will bear. You are not to behave as butchers or hangmen,
but as surgeons rather; who put the patient to no more pain than
is necessary, in order to the cure. For this purpose, each of _you_
likewise has need of “a lady’s hand with a lion’s heart.” So shall
many even of them you are constrained to punish, _glorify_ God _in
the day of visitation_.

6. I exhort all of you who fear God, as ever you hope to find mercy
at his hands, as you dread being found (tho’ you knew it not) _even
to fight against_ God: do not on any account, reason, or pretence
whatsoever, either directly or indirectly, oppose or hinder so
merciful a design, and one so conducive to his glory. But this is not
all: if you are lovers of mankind, if you long to lessen the sins and
miseries of your fellow-creatures: can you satisfy yourselves, can
you be clear before God, by barely not opposing it? Are not _you_
also bound by the most sacred ties, _as you have opportunity to do
good to all men_? And is not here an opportunity of doing good to
many, even good of the highest kind? In the name of God then, embrace
the opportunity. Assist in doing this good, if no otherwise, yet by
your earnest prayers, for them who are immediately employed therein.
Assist them, according to your ability, to defray the expence which
necessarily attends it, and which without the assistance of charitable
persons, would be a burden they could not bear. Assist them, if you
can without inconvenience, by quarterly or yearly subscriptions. At
least, assist them _now_: use the present hour, doing what God puts
into your heart. Let it not be said, that you saw your brethren
labouring for God, and would not help them with one of your fingers.
In this way, however, _come to the help of the Lord, to the help of
the Lord, against the mighty_!

7. I have an higher demand upon _you_ who love, as well as fear God.
He whom you fear, whom you love, has qualified _you_, for promoting
his work in a more excellent way. Because you love God, you love your
brother also: you love not only your friends, but your enemies; not
only the friends, but even the enemies of God. You have _put on, as
the elect of_ God, _lowliness, gentleness, long-suffering_. You have
faith in God, and in Jesus Christ whom he hath sent: faith which
overcometh the world. And hereby you conquer both evil shame, and
that fear of man which _bringeth a snare_: so that you can _stand
with boldness before them that despise you and make no account of
your labours_. Qualified then as you are, and armed for the fight,
will _you_ be _like the children of Ephraim, who being harnessed, and
carrying bows, turned back in the day of battle_? Will _you_ leave
a few of your brethren to stand alone, against all the hosts of the
aliens? O say not, “This is too heavy a cross: I have not strength
or courage to bear it.” True; not of yourself. But you that believe,
_can do all things through Christ strengthening_ you. _If thou canst
believe, all things are possible to him that believeth._ No cross
is too heavy for _him_ to bear, knowing that they that _suffer with
him, shall reign with him_. Say not, “Nay, but I cannot bear to be
_singular_.” Then you cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven. No one
enters there but thro’ the _narrow way_. And all that walk in this,
are singular. Say not, “But I cannot endure the reproach, the odious
name of an _informer_.” And did any man ever save his soul, that was
not _a by-word, and a proverb of reproach_? Neither canst thou ever
save thine, unless thou art willing, that men should _say all manner
of evil of thee_. Say not, “But if I am active in this work, I shall
lose not only my reputation, but my friends, my customers, my business,
my livelihood, so that I shall be brought to poverty.” Thou shalt
not: thou canst not: it is absolutely impossible, unless God himself
chuseth it. For his _kingdom ruleth over all_, and _the very hairs of
thy head are all numbered_. But if the wise, the gracious God chuse
it for thee, wilt thou murmur or complain? Wilt thou not rather say,
_The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it_? If you
_suffer for Christ, happy are you: the Spirit of glory and of Christ
shall rest upon you_. Say not, “I would suffer all things, but my wife
will not consent to it. And certainly a man ought to _leave father
and mother_ and all, _and cleave to his wife_.” True, all――but God;
all――but Christ. But he ought not to leave _him_ for his wife. He is
not to _leave any duty undone_, for the dearest relative. Our Lord
himself hath said in this very sense, _If any man loveth father, or
mother, or wife, or children, more than me, he is not worthy of me!_
Say not, “Well, I would forsake all for Christ. But one duty must not
hinder another. And this would frequently hinder my attending public
worship.” Sometimes it probably would. _Go_ then _and learn what that
meaneth, I will have mercy and not sacrifice_. And whatever is lost,
by shewing this mercy, God will repay sevenfold into thy bosom. Say
not, “But I shall hurt my own soul. I am a young man: and by taking up
loose women, I should expose my self to temptation.” Yes, if you did
this in your own strength, or for your own pleasure. But that is not
the case. You trust in God: and you aim at pleasing him only. And if
he should call you even into the midst of a burning fiery furnace,
_though thou walkest thro’ the fire thou shalt not be burnt, neither
shall the flames kindle upon thee_. “True; if _he called me_ into the
furnace. But I do not see that I am called to this.” Perhaps thou art
not willing to see it. However, if thou wast not called before, I call
thee _now_, in the name of Christ: take up thy cross and follow him.
Reason no more with flesh and blood, but now resolve to cast in thy
lot, with the most despised, the most infamous of his followers, the
filth and off-scouring of the world. I call thee in particular, who
didst once strengthen their hands, but since art drawn back. Take
courage! Be strong! Fulfil their joy, by returning with heart and hand.
Let it appear, thou _departedst for a season, that they might receive
thee again for ever_. O be _not disobedient to the heavenly calling_!
And as for all of you, who know whereunto ye are called, count ye
all things loss, so ye may save one soul, for which Christ died. And
therein _take no thought for the morrow_, but _cast all your care on
him that careth for you. Commit_ your souls, bodies, substance, all,
to him, _as unto a merciful and faithful Creator_.

  N. B. After this Society had subscribed several years, and done
  unspeakable good, it was wholly destroyed, by a verdict given
  against it in the King’s Bench, with three hundred pounds
  damages. I doubt a severe account remains for the witnesses,
  the jury, and all who were concerned in that dreadful affair.




                            SERMON LIII.¹

  ¹ On the death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. Preached at
    the Chappel in Tottenham-Court-Road, and at the Tabernacle
    near Moorfields, on Sunday, November 18, 1770.


                           NUMB. xxiii. 10.

  _Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be
    like his!_

1. _LET my last end be like his!_ How many of you join in this
wish? Perhaps there are few of you who do not, even in this numerous
congregation. And O that this wish may rest upon your minds! That it
may not die away, till your souls also are lodged _where the wicked
cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest_!

2. An elaborate exposition of the text, will not be expected on this
occasion. It would detain you too long from the sadly-pleasing thought
of your beloved brother, friend, and pastor; yea, and father too:
for how many are here whom he hath _begotten in the Lord_? Will it
not then be more suitable to your inclinations, as well as to this
solemnity, directly to speak of this man of God, whom you have so
often heard speaking in this place? _The end of whose conversation_
ye know, _Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever_.

And may we not,

_First_, Observe a few particulars of his life and death.

_Secondly_, Take some view of his character. And,

_Thirdly_, Inquire how we may improve this awful providence, his
sudden removal from us.


I. 1. We may, in the first place, observe a few particulars of his
life and death. He was born at _Glocester_, in _December_, 1714, and
put to a Grammar-school there, when about twelve years old. When he
was seventeen he began to be seriously religious, and served God to
the best of his knowledge. About eighteen he removed to the university,
and was admitted at _Pembroke_-College in _Oxford_. And about a year
after, he became acquainted with the _Methodists_, (so called) whom
from that time he loved as his own soul.

2. By them he was convinced, that we _must be born again_, or outward
religion will profit us nothing. He joined with them in fasting on
_Wednesdays_ and _Fridays_, in visiting the sick and the prisoners,
and in gathering up the very fragments of time, that no moment might
be lost. And he changed the course of his studies, reading chiefly
such books as entered into the heart of religion, and led directly to
an experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

3. He was soon tried as with fire. Not only his reputation was lost,
and some of his dearest friends forsook him; but he was exercised
with inward trials, and those of the severest kind. Many nights he
lay sleepless upon his bed; many days prostrate on the ground. But
after he had groaned several months under _the Spirit of bondage_,
God was pleased to remove the heavy load, by giving him _the Spirit
of adoption_, enabling him, through a living faith, to lay hold on
_the Son of his love_.

4. However, it was thought needful, for the recovery of his health,
which was much impaired, that he should go into the country. He
accordingly went to _Glocester_, where God enabled him to awaken
several young persons. These soon formed themselves into a little
society, and were some of the first fruits of his labour. Shortly
after he began to read twice or thrice a week to some poor people in
the town, and every day to read to, and pray with the prisoners in
the county ♦gaol.

    ♦ ‘goal’ replaced with ‘gaol’

5. Being now about twenty-one years of age, he was solicited to enter
into holy orders. Of this he was greatly afraid, being deeply sensible
of his own insufficiency. But the bishop himself sending for him,
and telling him, “Tho’ I had purposed to ordain none under three and
twenty, yet I will ordain _you_ whenever you come;” and several other
providential circumstances concurring, he submitted, and was ordained
on _Trinity-Sunday_, 1736. The next _Sunday_ he preached to a crouded
auditory, in the church wherein he was baptized. The week following he
returned to _Oxford_, and took his Batchelor’s degree. And he was now
fully employed, the care of the prisoners and the poor lying chiefly
on him.

6. But it was not long before he was invited to _London_, to serve the
cure of a friend going into the country. He continued there two months,
lodging in the _Tower_, reading prayers in the chappel twice a week,
catechizing and preaching once, beside daily visiting the soldiers in
the barracks and the infirmary. He also read prayers every evening at
_Wapping_-chappel, and preached at _Ludgate_-prison every _Tuesday_.
While he was here, letters came from his friends in _Georgia_, which
made him long to go and help them. But not seeing his call clear, at
the appointed time he returned to his little charge at _Oxford_; where
several youths met daily at his room, to _build up each other in their
most holy faith_.

7. But he was quickly called from hence again to supply the cure of
_Dummer_ in _Hampshire_. Here he read prayers twice a day, early in
the morning, and in the evening, after the people came from work. He
also daily catechized the children, and visited from house to house.
He now divided the day into three parts, alloting eight hours for
sleep and meals, eight for study and retirement, and eight for reading
prayers, catechizing, and visiting the people.――Is there a more
excellent way for a servant of Christ and his church? If not, Who will
_go and do likewise_?

8. Yet his mind still ran on going abroad. And being now fully
convinced he was called of God thereto, he set all things in order,
and in _January_ 1737, went down to take leave of his friends in
_Glocester_. It was in this journey that God began to bless his
ministry in an uncommon manner. Wherever he preached, amazing
multitudes of hearers flocked together, in _Glocester_, in
_Stonehouse_, in _Bath_, in _Bristol_: so that the heat of the
churches was scarce supportable. And the impressions made on the minds
of many, were no less extraordinary. After his return to _London_,
while he was detained by General _Oglethorpe_, from week to week, and
from month to month, it pleased God to bless his word still more. And
he was indefatigable in his labour: generally on _Sunday_ he preached
four times, to exceeding large auditories; beside reading prayers
twice or thrice, and walking to and fro, often ten or twelve miles.

9. On _December_ 28, he left _London_. It was on the 29th that he
first preached without notes. _December_ 30, he went on board; but it
was above a month before they cleared the land. One happy effect of
their very slow passage, he mentions in _April_ following: “Blessed
be God, we now live very comfortably in the great cabbin. We talk of
little else but God and Christ: and scarce a word is heard among us
when together, but what has reference to our fall in the first, and
our new birth in the second _Adam_.” It seems likewise to have been a
peculiar providence, that he should spend a little time at _Gibraltar_;
where both citizens and soldiers, high and low, young and old,
acknowledged the day of their visitation.

10. From _Sunday_, _May_ 7, 1738, till the latter end of _August_
following, he _made full proof of his ministry_ in _Georgia_,
particularly at _Savannah_: he read prayers and expounded twice a
day and visited the sick daily. On _Sunday_ he expounded at five in
the morning; at ten read prayers and preached, and at three in the
afternoon: and at seven in the evening expounded the church-catechism.
How much easier is it for our brethren in the ministry, either
in _England_, _Scotland_, or _Ireland_, to find fault with such
a labourer in our Lord’s vineyard, than to tread in his steps?

11. It was now that he observed the deplorable condition of many
children here; and that God put into his heart the first thought
of founding an _Orphan-house_: for which he determined to raise
contributions in _England_, if God should give him a safe return
thither. In _December_ following he did return to _London_: and on
_Sunday_, _January_ the 14th, 1739, he was ordained priest at
_Christ-Church_, _Oxford_. The next day he came to _London_ again:
and on _Sunday_ the 21st preached twice. But though the churches
were large, and crouded exceedingly, yet many hundreds stood in the
churchyard, and hundreds more returned home. This put him upon the
first thought of preaching in the open air. But when he mentioned it
to some of his friends, they judged it to be mere madness. So he did
not carry it into execution, till after he had left _London_. It was
on _Wednesday_, _February_ 21, that finding all the church-doors to be
shut in _Bristol_, (beside that no church was able to contain one half
of the congregation) at three in the afternoon he went to _Kingswood_,
and preached abroad, to near two thousand people. On _Friday_ he
preached there to four or five thousand; and on _Sunday_ to (it was
supposed) ten thousand. The number continually increased all the time
he stayed at _Bristol_. And a flame of holy love was kindled, which
will not easily be put out. The same was afterwards kindled in various
parts of _Wales_, of _Glocestershire_, and _Worcestershire_. Indeed
♦wherever he went, God abundantly confirmed the word of his messenger.

    ♦ ‘whereever’ replaced with ‘wherever’

12. On _Sunday_, _April_ 29, he preached the first time in
_Moorfields_, and on _Kennington_-common. And the thousands of
hearers were as quiet as they could have been in a church. Being again
detained in _England_ from month to month, he made little excursions
into several counties, and received the contributions of willing
multitudes, for an Orphan-house in _Georgia_. The embargo which was
now laid on the shipping, gave him leisure for more journies, through
various parts of _England_, for which many will have reason to bless
God to all eternity. At length, on _August_ 14, he embarked. But
he did not land in _Pensylvania_ till _October_ 30. Afterwards
he went through _Pensylvania_, the _Jerseys, New-York, Maryland,
Virginia, North_ and _South Carolina_, preaching all along to immense
congregations, with full as great effect as in _England_; on _January_
10, 1740, he arrived at _Savannah_.

13. _January_ 29, he added three desolate orphans to near twenty which
he had in his house before. The next day he laid out the ground for
the house, about ten miles from _Savannah_. _February_ 11, he took
in four orphans more, and set out for _Frederica_, in order to fetch
orphans that were in the southern parts of the colony. In his return
he fixt a school, both for children and grown persons, at _Darien_,
and took four orphans thence. _March_ 25, he laid the first stone of
the Orphan-house, to which, with great propriety, he gave the name
of _Bethesda_: a work for which the children yet unborn shall praise
the Lord. He had now about forty orphans, so that there were near
an hundred mouths to be fed daily. But he was _careful for nothing_,
casting his care on him who _feedeth the young ravens that call upon
him_.

14. In _April_ he made another tour through _Pensylvania_, the
_Jerseys_, and _New-York_. Incredible multitudes flocked to hear,
among whom were abundance of negroes. In all places the greater part
of the hearers were affected to an amazing degree. Many were deeply
convinced of their lost state; many truly converted to God. In some
places thousands cried out aloud; many as in the agonies of death.
Most were drowned in tears; some turned pale as death; others were
wringing their hands; others lying on the ground; others sinking
into the arms of their friends; almost all lifting up their eyes,
and calling for mercy.

15. He returned to _Savannah_, _June_ 5. The next evening, during the
public service, the whole congregation, young and old, were dissolved
in tears. After service, several of the parishioners, and all his
family, particularly the little children, returned home crying along
the street, and some could not help praying aloud. The groans and
cries of the children continued all night, and great part of the next
day.

16. In _August_ he set out again, and through various provinces came
to _Boston_. While he was here, and in the neighbouring places, he was
extremely weak in body. Yet the multitudes of hearers were so great,
and the effects wrought on them so astonishing, as the oldest men
then alive in the town had never seen before. The same power attended
his preaching at _New-York_; particularly on _Sunday_, _November_ 2.
Almost as soon as he began, crying, weeping, and wailing, were to be
heard on every side. Many sunk down to the ground, cut to the heart:
and many were filled with divine consolation. Toward the close of his
journey he made this reflection: “It is the seventy-fifth day since I
arrived at _Rhode-Island_, exceeding weak in body. Yet God has enabled
me to preach an hundred and seventy-five times in public, beside
exhorting frequently in private. Never did God vouchsafe me greater
comforts: never did I perform my journies with less fatigue, or see
such a continuance of the divine presence in the congregations to
whom I preached.” In _December_ he returned to _Savannah_, and in the
_March_ following arrived in _England_.

17. You may easily observe, that the preceding account is chiefly
extracted from his own journals, which, for their artless and
unaffected simplicity, may vie with any writings of the kind. And
how exact a specimen is this of his labours both in _Europe_ and
_America_, for the honour of his beloved Master, during the thirty
years that followed! As well as of the uninterrupted shower of
blessings wherewith God was pleased to succeed his labours! Is it
not much to be lamented, that any thing should have prevented his
continuing this account, till at least near the time when he was
called by his Lord to enjoy the fruit of his labour?――If he has left
any papers of this kind, and his friends account me worthy of the
honour, it would be my glory and joy to methodize, transcribe, and
prepare them for the public view.

18. A particular account of the last scene of his life, is thus
given by a gentleman of _Boston_: “After being about a month with
us in _Boston_ and its vicinity, and preaching every day, he went to
_Old-york_, preached on _Thursday_, _September_ 27, there; proceeded
to _Portsmouth_, and preached there on _Friday_. On _Saturday_ morning
he set out for _Boston_; but before he came to _Newbury_, where he
had engaged to preach the next morning, he was importuned to preach
by the way. The house not being large enough to contain the people, he
preached in an open field. But having been infirm for several weeks,
this so exhausted his strength, that when he came to _Newbury_, he
could not get out of the ferry-boat without the help of two men. In
the evening, however, he recovered his spirits, and appeared with
his usual chearfulness. He went to his chamber at nine, his fixt
time, which no company could divert him from: and slept better than
he had done for some weeks before. He rose at four in the morning,
_September_ 30, and went into his closet; and his companion observed
he was unusually long in private. He left his closet, returned to his
companion, threw himself on the bed, and lay about ten minutes. Then
he fell upon his knees, and prayed most fervently to God, ‘That if
it was consistent with his will he might that day finish his Master’s
work.’ He then desired his man to call Mr. Parsons, the clergyman, at
whose house he was: but in a minute, before Mr. Parsons could reach
him died, without a sigh or groan. On the news of his death, six
gentlemen set out for _Newbury_, in order to bring his remains hither,
but he could not be moved, so that his precious ashes must remain at
_Newbury_. Hundreds would have gone from this town to attend his
funeral, had they not expected he would have been interred here.――May
this stroke be sanctified to the church of God in general, and to this
province in particular!”


II. 1. We are in the second place, to take some view of his character.
A little sketch of this, was soon after published in the _Boston
Gazette_: an extract of which is subjoined: “In his public labours
he has for many years astonished the world with his eloquence and
devotion. With what divine pathos did he persuade the impenitent
sinner to embrace the practice of piety and virtue! He spoke from the
heart, and with a fervency of zeal, perhaps unequalled since the days
of the apostles. From the pulpit he was unrivalled in the command of
an ever-crowded auditory. Nor was he less agreeable and instructive
in his private conversation: happy in a remarkable ease of address,
willing to communicate, studious to edify. May the rising generation
catch a spark of that flame which shone with such distinguished lustre
in the spirit and practice of this faithful servant of the most high
God!”

2. A more particular, and equally just character of him, has appeared
in one of the _English_ papers. It may not be disagreeable to you, to
add the substance of this likewise: “The character of this truly pious
person, must be imprest on the heart of every friend to vital religion.
In spite of a tender constitution, he continued, to the last day of
his life, preaching with a frequency and a fervor, that seemed to
exceed the natural strength of the most robust. Being called to the
exercise of his function at an age, when most young men are only
beginning to qualify themselves for it, he had not time to make a very
considerable progress in the learned languages. But this defect was
amply supplied, by a lively and fertile genius, by fervent zeal, and
by a forcible and most persuasive delivery. And though in the pulpit
he often found it needful, by _the terrors of the Lord to persuade
men_, he had nothing gloomy in his nature, being singularly chearful,
as well as charitable and tender-hearted. He was as ready to relieve
the bodily as the spiritual necessities of those that applied to him.
It ought also to be observed, that he constantly enforced upon his
audience every moral duty, particularly industry in their several
callings, and obedience to their superiors. He endeavoured, by the
most extraordinary efforts, of preaching in different places, and even
in the open fields, to rouse the lower class of people, from the last
degree of inattention and ignorance, to a sense of religion. For this,
and his other labours, the name of George Whitefield, will long be
remembred with esteem and veneration.”

3. That both these accounts are just and impartial, will readily be
allowed; that is, as far as they go. But they go little farther than
the _outside_ of his character. They shew you the _preacher_, but not
the _man_, the _Christian_, the _saint_ of God. May I be permitted
to add a little on this head, from a personal knowledge of near forty
years? Indeed, I am thoroughly sensible how difficult it is to speak
on so delicate a subject; what prudence is required to avoid both
extremes, to say neither too little, nor too much? Nay, I know it
is impossible to speak to all, to say either less or more, without
incurring from some the former, from others the latter censure. Some
will seriously think, that too little is said; and others, that it
is too much. But without attending to this, I will speak just what I
know, before him to whom we are all to give an account.

4. Mention has already been made of his unparalleled _zeal_, his
indefatigable _activity_, his _tender-heartedness_ to the afflicted,
and _charitableness_ toward the poor. But should we not likewise
mention his deep _gratitude_, to all whom God had used as instruments
of good to him? Of whom he did not cease to speak in the most
respectful manner, even to his dying day. Should we not mention, that
he had an heart susceptible of the most generous and the most tender
_friendship_? I have frequently thought, that this, of all others,
was the distinguishing part of his character. How few have we known
of so kind a temper, of such large and flowing affections? Was it not
principally by this, that the hearts of others were so strangely drawn
and knit to him? Can any thing but love beget love? This shone in his
very countenance, and continually breathed in all his words, whether
in public or private. Was it not this, which, quick and penetrating
as lightning, flew from heart to heart? Which gave that life to his
sermons, his conversations, his letters? Ye are witnesses.

5. But away with the vile misconstruction of men of corrupt minds,
who know of no love but what is _earthly and sensual_. Be it
remembered, at the same time, that he was endued with the most nice
and unblemished _modesty_. His office called him to converse very
frequently and largely, with women as well as men; and those of
every age and condition. But his whole behaviour toward them, was a
practical comment on that advice of St. _Paul_ to _Timothy, Intreat
the elder women as mothers, the younger as sisters, with all purity_.

6. Mean time, how suitable to the friendliness of his spirit, was the
_frankness_ and _openness_ of his conversation? Although it was far
removed from rudeness on the one hand, as from guile and disguise
on the other. Was not this frankness at once a fruit and a proof of
his _courage_ and _intrepidity_? Armed with these, he feared not the
faces of men, but _used great plainness of speech_ to persons of every
rank and condition, high and low, rich and poor: endeavouring only
_by manifestation of the truth_, to _commend himself to every man’s
conscience in the sight of God_.

7. Neither was he afraid of labour or pain, any more than of _what man
could do unto him_, being equally

            “_Patient_ in bearing ill and doing well.”

And this appeared in the _steddiness_ wherewith he pursued whatever
he undertook for his Master’s sake. Witness one instance for all, the
Orphan-house in _Georgia_, which he began and perfected, in spite of
all discouragements. Indeed, in whatever concerned himself, he was
pliant and flexible. In this case he was _easy to be intreated_, easy
to be either convinced or persuaded. But he was immoveable in the
things of God, or wherever his conscience was concerned. None could
persuade, any more than affright him, to vary in the least point from
that _integrity_, which was inseparable from his whole character, and
regulated all his words and actions. Herein he did

               “Stand as an iron pillar strong,
                And stedfast as a wall of brass.”

8. *If it be inquired, What was the foundation of this integrity,
or of his sincerity, courage, patience, and every other valuable
and amiable quality, it is easy to give the answer. It was not
the excellence of his natural temper: not the strength of his
understanding: it was not the force of education; no, nor the advice
of his friends. It was no other than faith in a bleeding Lord; _Faith
of the operation of God_. It was _a lively hope of an inheritance
incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away_. It was _the love
of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost, which was given
unto him_, filling his soul with tender, disinterested love to every
child of man. From this source arose that torrent of _eloquence_ which
frequently bore down all before it: from this, that astonishing force
of _persuasion_, which the most hardened sinners could not resist.
This it was, which often made his _head as waters_, and his _eyes a
fountain of tears_. This it was which enabled him to pour out his soul
in _prayer_, in a manner peculiar to himself, with such fulness and
ease united together, with such strength and variety both of sentiment
and expression.

9. *I may close this head with observing, What an honour it pleased
God to put upon his faithful servant, by allowing him to declare his
everlasting gospel in so many various countries, to such numbers of
people, and with so great an effect, on so many of their precious
souls! Have we read or heard of any person since the apostles, who
testified the gospel of the grace of God, through so widely extended
a space, through so large a part of the habitable world? Have we
read or heard of any person who called so many thousands, so many
myriads of sinners to repentance? Above all, have we read or heard
of any, who has been a blessed instrument in his hand of _bringing_
so many sinners from _darkness to light, and from the power of Satan
unto God_? It is true, were we to talk thus to the gay world, we
should be judged to _speak as barbarians_. But _you_ understand the
language of the country to which you are going, and whither our dear
friend is gone a little before us.


III. But how shall we improve this awful providence? This is the
_third_ thing which we have to consider. And the answer to this
important question is easy; (may God write it in all our hearts!)
By keeping close to the _grand doctrines_ which he delivered: and
by drinking into his _Spirit_.

1. And first, let us keep close to the grand scriptural doctrines,
which he every where delivered. There are many doctrines of a less
essential nature, with regard to which, even the sincere children
of God (such is the present weakness of human understanding!) are
and have been divided for many ages. In these we may think and let
think; we may “agree to disagree.” But mean time let us hold fast the
essentials of _the faith, which was once delivered to the saints_; and
which this champion of God so strongly insisted on, at all times, and
in all places.

2. His fundamental point was, Give God all the glory of whatever is
good in man. And in the business of salvation, Set Christ as high,
and man as low as possible. With this point, he and his friends at
_Oxford_, the original _Methodists_ (so called) set out. Their grand
principle was, There is _no power_ (by nature) and _no merit_ in man.
They insisted, all power to think, speak, or act right, is in and from
the Spirit of Christ: and all merit is (not in man, how high soever
in grace, but merely) in the blood of Christ. So he and they taught:
There is no power in man, till it is given him from above, to do one
good work, to speak one good word, or to form one good desire. For it
is not enough to say, all men are _sick of sin_: no, we are all dead
_in trespasses and sins_. It follows, that all the children of men are
_by nature children of wrath_. We are all _guilty before God_, liable
to death temporal and eternal.

3. And we are all helpless, both with regard to the power and to the
guilt of sin. For _who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean_?
None less than the Almighty. Who can raise those that are _dead_,
spiritually dead in sin? None but he who raised us from the dust of
the earth. But on what consideration will he do this? _Not for works
of righteousness that we have done. The dead cannot praise thee, O
Lord!_ Nor do any thing for the sake of which they should be raised to
life. Whatever therefore God does, he does it merely for the sake of
his well beloved Son; _he was wounded for our transgressions, he was
bruised for our iniquities. He himself bore all our sins in his own
body upon the tree. He was delivered for our offences, and rose again
for our justification._ Here then is the sole _meritorious cause_ of
every blessing we do or can enjoy: in particular of our pardon and
acceptance with God, of our full and free justification. But by what
means do we become interested in what Christ has done and suffered?
_Not by works, lest any man should boast_; but by faith alone. _We
conclude_, says the apostle, _that a man is justified by faith,
without the works of the law_. And _to as many as_ thus _receive him,
giveth he power to become the sons of God: even to those that believe
in his name, who are born, not of the will of man, but of God_.

4. And _except a man be thus born again, he cannot see the kingdom
of God_. But all who are thus _born of the Spirit_, have _the kingdom
of God within_ them. Christ sets up his kingdom in their hearts;
_Righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost_. That _mind is in
them, which was in Christ Jesus_, enabling them to _walk as Christ
also walked_. His indwelling-Spirit makes them both holy in heart,
and _holy in all manner of conversation_. But still, seeing all this
is a free gift, through the righteousness and blood of Christ, there
is eternally the same reason to remember, _He that glorieth, let him
glory in the Lord_.

5. You are not ignorant, that these are the fundamental doctrines
which he every where insisted on. And may they not be summed up,
as it were, in two words, _The new birth_, and _justification by
faith_? These let us insist upon with all boldness, at all times,
and in all places: in public (those of us who are called thereto)
and at all opportunities, in private. Keep close to these good, old,
unfashionable doctrines, how many soever contradict and blaspheme.
Go on, my brethren, in the _name of the Lord, and in the power of
his might_. With all care and diligence, _keep that safe which is
committed to your trust_: knowing that _heaven and earth shall pass
away; but_ this truth _shall not pass away_.

6. But will it be sufficient, to keep close to his _doctrines_, how
pure soever they are? Is there not a point of still greater importance
than this, namely, to drink into his _spirit_? Herein to _be a
follower of_ him, _even as_ he was _of Christ_? Without this, the
purity of our doctrines, would only increase our condemnation. This
therefore is the principal thing, to copy after his spirit. And
allowing that in some points, we must be content, to _admire_ what
we cannot _imitate_: yet in many others we may, through the same
free grace, be partakers of the same blessing. Conscious then of
your own wants, and of his bounteous love, who _giveth liberally and
upbraideth not_, cry to him that worketh all in all, for a measure
of the same precious faith: of the same zeal and activity, the same
tender-heartedness, charitableness, bowels of mercies. Wrestle with
God for some degree of the same grateful, friendly, affectionate
temper: of the same openness, simplicity, and godly sincerity. _Love
without dissimulation._ Wrestle on, till the power from on high works
in you the same steady courage and patience: and above all, because it
is the crown of all, the same invariable integrity.

7. *Is there any other fruit of the grace of God, with which he was
eminently endowed, and the want of which among the children of God he
frequently and passionately lamented? There is one, that is, _Catholic
love_: that sincere and tender affection, which is due to all those,
who, we have reason to believe, are children of God by faith: in
other words, all those in every persuasion, who _fear God and work
righteousness_. He longed to see all who had _tasted of the good word_,
of a truly _Catholic spirit_, (a word little understood and still less
experienced by many, who have it frequently in their mouth.) Who is he
that answers this character? Who is a man of a _Catholic spirit_? One
who loves as friends, as brethren in the Lord, as joint partakers of
the present kingdom of heaven, and fellow-heirs of his eternal kingdom,
all of whatever opinion, mode of worship, or congregation, who believe
in the Lord Jesus; who love God and man: who rejoicing to please, and
fearing to offend God, are careful to abstain from evil, and zealous
of good works. He is a man of a truly Catholic spirit, who bears all
these continually upon his heart: who having an unspeakable tenderness
for their persons, and an earnest desire of their welfare, does not
cease to commend them to God in prayer, as well as to plead their
cause before men: who speaks comfortably to them, and labours by all
his words, to strengthen their hands in God. He assists them to the
uttermost of his power, in all things, spiritual and temporal. He is
ready _to spend and to be spent_ for them; yea, _to lay down his life
for his brethren_.

8. How amiable a character is this? How desirable to every child of
God! But why is it then so rarely found? How is it, that there are
so few instances of it? Indeed, supposing we have tasted of the love
of God, how can any of us rest, ’till it is our own? Why, there is a
delicate device, whereby Satan persuades thousands, that they may stop
short of it, and yet be guiltless. It is well, if many here present
are not in this _snare of the devil, taken captive at his will_. “O
yes, says one, I have all this love for those I believe to be children
of God. But I will never believe, he is a child of God, who belongs to
that _vile congregation_! Can he, do you think, be a child of God, who
holds such _detestable opinions_? Or he that joins in such senseless
and superstitious, if not idolatrous _worship_?” So we justify
ourselves in one sin, by adding a second to it! We excuse the want
of love in ourselves, by laying the blame on others. To colour our
own devilish temper, we pronounce our brethren children of the devil.
O beware of this! And if you are already taken in the snare, escape
out of it as soon as possible. Go and learn that truly Catholic love,
which _is not rash or hasty_ in judging: that love which _thinketh no
evil_, which _believeth and hopeth all things_: which makes all the
allowances for others, that we desire others should make for us. Then
we shall take knowledge of the grace of God, which is in every man,
whatever be his opinion or mode of worship. Then will all that fear
God be near and dear unto us, _in the bowels of Jesus Christ_.

9. Was not this the spirit of our dear friend? And why should it not
be ours? O thou God of love, how long shall thy people be a bye-word
among the Heathen? How long shall they laugh us to scorn, and say,
“See how _these_ Christians love one another?” When wilt thou roll
away our reproach? _Shall the sword devour for ever? How long will
it be, ere thou bid thy people return from following each other?_ Now
at least, _let all the people stand still, and pursue after_ their
brethren _no more_! But whatever others do, let all of us, my brethren,
hear the voice of him that _being dead, yet speaketh_! Suppose ye
hear him say, “Now at least, _be ye followers of me as I was of
Christ_! Let brother _no more lift up sword_ against brother, neither
_know ye war any more_! Rather _put ye on, as the elect of God,
bowels of mercies, humbleness of mind, brotherly kindness, gentleness,
long-suffering, forbearing one another in love_. Let the time past
suffice for strife, envy, contention; for _biting and devouring one
another_. Blessed be God, that ye have not long ago been _consumed one
of another_! From henceforth hold ye _the unity of the Spirit in the
bond of peace_.”

10. O God, with thee no word is impossible: thou dost whatsoever
pleaseth thee! O that thou wouldst cause the mantle of thy prophet,
whom thou hast taken up, now to fall upon us that remain! _Where
is the Lord God of Elijah? Let_ his _spirit rest upon_ these thy
servants! Shew thou art the God that _answerest by fire_! Let the fire
of thy love fall on every heart! And because we love thee, let us love
one another with a _love stronger than death. Take away from us_ all
_anger, and wrath, and bitterness; all clamour, and evil-speaking_.
Let thy Spirit so rest upon us, that from this hour, we may be _kind
to each other, tender-hearted: forgiving one another, even as God, for
Christ’s sake, hath forgiven us_!




                               An HYMN.


                  SERVANT of God, well done!
                  Thy glorious warfare’s past,
              The battle’s fought, the race is won,
                  And thou art crown’d at last;
                  Of all thy heart’s desire
                  Triumphantly possest,
              Lodg’d by the ministerial quire
                  In thy Redeemer’s breast.

                  In condescending love
                  Thy ceaseless prayer He heard,
              And bad thee suddenly remove,
                  To thy complete reward:
                  Ready to bring the peace,
                  Thy beauteous feet were shod,
              When mercy sign’d thy soul’s release
                  And caught thee up to God.

                  With saints inthron’d on high
                  Thou dost thy Lord proclaim,
              And still _to God ♦salvation_ cry,
                  _Salvation to the Lamb_!
                  O happy, happy soul!
                  In extacies of praise,
              Long as eternal ages roll,
                  Thou seest thy Saviour’s Face.

                  Redeem’d from earth and pain,
                  Ah! when shall we ascend,
              And all in Jesus’ presence reign
                  With our translated Friend!
                  Come, Lord, and quickly come!
                  And when in Thee complete,
              Receive thy longing servants home,
                  To triumph――at thy feet!

    ♦ ‘savation’ replaced with ‘salvation’




                                ADVICE

                   To the People call’d METHODISTS,


                        With regard to DRESS.

I. 1. I AM not fond of saying the same thing over and over: especially
when I have so many things to say, that the day of life (which with
_me_ is far spent) is not likely to suffice for them. But in some
cases, it is needful for you that I should: and then, _it is not
grievous_ to me. And it may be best, to speak freely and fully at once,
that there may be the less need of speaking on this head hereafter.

2. When we look into the bible with any attention, and then look round
into the world, to see who _believes_ and who _lives_ according to
this book: we may easily discern, that the system of _practice_, as
well as the system of _truth_ there delivered, is torn in pieces, and
scattered abroad, like the members of _Absyrtus_. Every denomination
of Christians retains some part either of Christian truth or practice:
these hold fast one part, and those another, as their fathers did
before them. What is the duty mean-time of those who desire to follow
the whole word of God? Undoubtedly to _gather up_ all these _fragments,
that_ if possible _nothing be lost_: with all diligence to follow all
those we see about us, so far as they follow the bible: and to join
together in one scheme of truth and practice what almost all the world
put asunder.

3. Many years ago I observed several parts of Christian Practice,
among the people call’d _Quakers_. Two things I particularly remarked
among them, Plainness of speech and plainness of dress. I willingly
adopted both, with some restrictions, and particularly plainness of
dress. The same I recommended to _you_, when God first called you out
of the world: and after the addition of more than thirty years
experience, I recommend it to you still.

4. But before I go any farther, I must intreat you, in the name of God,
Be open to conviction. Whatever prejudices you have contracted from
education, custom or example, divest yourselves of them, as far as
possible. Be willing to receive light either from God or man: do not
shut your eyes against it. Rather be glad to see more than you did
before; to _have the eyes of your understanding opened_. Receive the
truth in the love thereof, and you will have reason to bless God for
ever.


II. 1. Not that I would advise you, to imitate the people called
_Quakers_, in those little particularities of dress, which can answer
no possible end, but to distinguish them from all other people.
To be singular, merely for singularity’s sake, is not the part of
a Christian. I do not therefore advise you, to wear a hat of such
dimensions, or a coat of a particular form. Rather, in things that are
absolutely indifferent, that are of no consequence at all, humility
and courtesy require you to conform to the customs of your country.

2. But I advise you to imitate them, first, in the _Neatness_ of their
apparel. This is highly to be commended, and quite suitable to your
Christian calling. Let all your apparel therefore be as clean as your
situation in life will allow. It is certain, the poor can’t be so
clean as they would, as having little change of raiment. But let even
these be as clean as they can, as care and diligence can keep them.
Indeed they have particular need so to be; because cleanliness is one
great branch of frugality. It is likewise more conducive to health,
than is generally considered. Let the poor then especially labour to
be clean, and provoke those of higher rank to jealousy.

3. I advise you to imitate them secondly, in the _Plainness_ of their
apparel. In this are implied two things; 1. That your apparel be cheap,
not expensive; far cheaper than others in your circumstances wear, or
than _you_ would wear, if you knew not God: 2. That it be grave, not
gay, airy, or showy; not in the point of the fashion. And these easy
rules may be applied both to the materials whereof it is made, and the
manner wherein it is made or put on.

4. Would you have a farther rule, with respect to both? Then take one
which you may always carry in your bosom. “Do every thing herein with
a single eye:” and this will direct you in every circumstance. Let
a single intention to please God prescribe, both what cloathing you
shall buy, and the manner wherein it shall be made, and how you shall
put on and wear it. To express the same thing in other words: Let all
you do in this respect, be so done, that you may offer it to God, a
sacrifice acceptable thro’ Christ Jesus. So that, consequently, it
may increase your reward, and brighten your crown in heaven. And so
it will do, if it be agreeable to Christian humility, seriousness and
charity.

5. Shall I be more particular still? Then I _exhort all those who
desire me to watch over their souls_, Wear no gold, (whatever officers
of state may do; or magistrates, as the ensign of their office) no
pearls or precious stones: use no curling of hair, or costly apparel,
how grave soever. I _advise those who are able to receive this saying_,
Buy no velvets, no silks, no fine linen: no superfluities, no _mere
ornaments_, tho’ ever so much in fashion. Wear nothing, tho’ you have
it already, which is of a glaring colour, or which is in any kind gay,
glittering, showy; nothing made in the very height of the fashion,
nothing apt to attract the eyes of the by-standers. I do not advise
women to wear rings, ear-rings, necklaces, Lace, (of whatever kind
or colour) or ruffles, which by little and little may easily shoot
out from one to twelve inches deep. Neither do I advise men, to wear
coloured waistcoats, shining stockings, glittering or costly buckles
or buttons, either on their coats or in their sleeves, any more than
gay, fashionable or expensive perukes. It is true, these are little,
very little things: therefore they are not worth defending: therefore
give them up, let them drop, throw them away, without another word.
Else a little needle may cause much pain in your flesh, a little
self-indulgence much hurt to your soul.


III. 1_st._ 1. For the preceding _exhortation_, I have the authority
of God, in clear and express terms. ¹_I will that women_ (and by
parity of reason, men too) _adorn themselves in modest apparel, with
shame-facedness and sobriety, not with broidered_ (curled) _hair, or
gold, or pearls_, (one kind of precious stones, which was then most
in use, put for all) _or costly apparel, but (which becometh women
professing godliness) with good works_. Again, ²_Whose adorning let
it not be that outward adorning, of plating_ (curling) _the hair, and
of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel. But let it be――the
ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of_ God
_of great price_. Nothing can be more express, The wearing of gold, of
precious stones, and of costly apparel, together with curling of hair,
is here forbidden by name: nor is there any restriction made either
here or in any other scripture. Whoever therefore says, “There is no
harm in these things,” may as well say, There is no harm in stealing
or adultery.

  ¹ 1 Tim. ii. 9, 10.

  ² 1 Pet. iii. 3, 4.

2. There is something ♦peculiarly observable in the manner wherein
both St. _Peter_ and St. _Paul_ speak of these things. _Let not your
adorning_ (says St. _Peter_) _be that outward adorning; but let it
be the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit_. The latter clause is
not added barely to fill up the sentence, but with strong and weighty
reason. For there is a direct contrariety (as little as we may suspect
it) between that outward and this inward adorning. And that, both
with regard to their source, and with regard to their tendency. As to
their source, all that adorning springs from nature; a meek and quiet
spirit from grace: the former, from conforming to our own will and the
will of man, the latter from conformity to the will of God. And as to
their tendency; nothing more directly tends to destroy meekness and
quietness of spirit, than all that outward adorning, whereby we seek
to commend ourselves, to men and not to God. For this cherishes all
those passions and tempers, which overthrow the quiet of every soul
wherein they dwell.

    ♦ ‘peculiary’ replaced with ‘peculiarly’

3. _Let them adorn themselves_, saith St. _Paul_, _not with curling
of hair, or with gold, pearls, or costly apparel, but (which becometh
women professing godliness) with good works_. The latter clause is
here likewise added, for plain and weighty reasons. For 1. That kind
of adorning cannot spring from godliness, from either the love or
fear of God, from a desire of conforming to his will, or from the mind
which was in Christ Jesus. 2. It no way tends to increase godliness;
it is not conducive to any holy temper. But 3. It manifestly tends
to destroy several of the tempers most essential to godliness. It has
no friendly influence on humility; whether we aim at pleasing others
or ourselves hereby. Either in one case or the other, it will rather
increase pride or vanity than lowliness of heart. It does not at all
minister to the seriousness which becomes a sinner born to die. It is
utterly inconsistent with simplicity; no one uses it, merely to please
God. Whoever acts with a single eye, does all things, to be seen and
approved of God; and can no more _dress_, than he can _pray_, or give
alms, _to be seen of men_.

♦4. “O! but one may be as humble in velvet and embroidery, as another
is in sackcloth.” True: for a person may wear sackcloth, and have
no humility at all. The heart may be filled with pride and vanity,
whatever the raiment be. Again; women under the yoke of unbelieving
parents or husbands, as well as men in office, may on several
occasions be _constrained_, to put on gold or costly apparel. And in
cases of this kind, plain experience shews, that the baleful influence
of it is suspended. So that wherever it is not our choice but our
cross, it may consist with godliness, with a meek and quiet spirit,
with lowliness of heart, with Christian seriousness. But it is not
true, that any one can _chuse_ this, from a single eye to please God;
or consequently, without sustaining great loss, as to lowliness and
every other Christian temper.

    ♦ Points ‘7 & 8’ replaced with ‘4 & 5’

♦5. But however this be, can you be adorned at the same time with
_costly apparel_, and with _good works_? That is, in the _same degree_
as you might have been, had you bestowed less cost on your apparel?
You know this is impossible: the more you expend on the one, the
less you have to expend on the other. Costliness of apparel, in every
branch, is therefore immediately, directly, inevitably destructive of
good works. You see a brother, for whom Christ died, ready to perish
for want of needful cloathing. You would give it him gladly: but
alas! _It is corban, whereby he might have been profited._ It is
given already: not indeed for the service of God; not to the treasury
of the temple: but either to please the folly of others, or to feed
vanity, or the lust of the eye in yourself. Now (even suppose these
were harmless tempers, yet) what an unspeakable loss is this, if it be
really true, that _every man shall receive his own reward, according
to his own labour_! If there is indeed a reward in heaven, for every
work of faith, for every degree of the labour of love!

2_dly._ 1. As to the _advice_ subjoined, it is easy to observe, that
all those smaller things are, in their degree, liable to the same
objections as the greater. If they are gay, showy, pleasing to the eye,
the putting them on does not spring from a single view to please God.
It neither flows from, nor tends to advance a meek and quiet spirit.
It does not arise from, nor any way promote, real, vital godliness.

2. And if they are in any wise costly, if they are purchased with any
unnecessary expence, they cannot but in proportion to that expence, be
destructive of good works. Of consequence they are destructive of that
charity, which is fed thereby: hardening our heart against the cry of
the poor and needy, by inuring us to shut up our bowels of compassion
toward them.

3. At least, all unnecessary expences of this kind, whether small or
great, are senseless and foolish. This we may defy any man living to
get over, if he allows there is another world. For there is no reward
in heaven for laying out your money in ornaments or costly apparel:
whereas you may have an eternal reward, for whatever you expend on
earth.

4. Consider this more closely. Here are two ways proposed of laying
out such a sum of money. I may lay it out in expensive apparel for
myself, or in necessary clothing for my neighbour. The former will
please my own eye, or that of others: the latter will please God.
Now suppose there were no more harm in one than in the other, in that
which pleases man, than in that which pleases God: is there as much
good in it? If they are equally innocent, are they equally wise? By
the one, I gratify the desire of the eye, and gain a pleasure that
perishes in the using: by the other, I gain a larger share of those
pleasures that are at God’s right hand for evermore. By the former I
obtain the applause of man; by the latter, the praise of God. In this
way, I meet with the admiration of fools: in that, I hear from the
Judge of All, _Well done, good and faithful servant! Enter thou into
the joy of thy_ Lord.

5. Brethren, whatever ye are accounted by men, I would not have
you fools in God’s account. _Walk ye circumspectly, not as fools,
but as wise_; not in those ways which God _may possibly forgive_;
(to put things in the most favourable light) but in those which he
_will certainly reward. In wickedness be ye children_ still; _but in
understanding be ye men_. I want to see a visible body of people, who
are a standing example of this wisdom; a pattern of doing all things,
great and small, with an eye to God and eternity.


IV. 1. But we may be assured, the wisdom of the world will find out
abundance of objections to this. Accordingly it is objected, first,
“If God has given us plentiful fortunes, if we are placed in the
higher ranks of life, we must act suitably to our fortune. We ought
then to dress according to our rank, that is, in gold and costly
apparel.” Not to insist, that none of _you_ are of this rank, I answer,
Where is this written? Our Saviour once occasionally said, _Behold,
they who wear gorgeous_ (splendid) _apparel, are in king’s courts_:
but he does not say, they _ought_ to be even there: he neither enjoins,
nor countenances it. And where is this either enjoined or allowed, by
him or any of his apostles? Bring me plain, scriptural proof for your
assertion, or I cannot allow it.

2. “But did not God give express command by _Moses_, that some even
among his chosen people should be adorned in the most exquisite manner,
with gold and precious stones and costly array?” Indeed he did: he
expressly commanded this, with regard to _Aaron_, and his successors
in the high-priesthood. But to this I answer, first, this direction
which God gave, with regard to the Jewish high-priest, can certainly
affect no person in _England_, unless the Archbishop of _Canterbury_.
And I apprehend, he does not plead the precedent. Secondly, The Jews
and we are under different dispensations. The glory of the whole
Mosaic dispensation, was chiefly visible and external: whereas the
glory of the Christian dispensation, is of an invisible and spiritual
nature.

3. “But what then are gold and precious stones for? Why have they
a place in the creation?” What if I say, I cannot tell? There are
abundance of things in the creation, which I do not know the use of.
What are crocodiles, lions, tigers, scorpions for? Why have so many
poisons a place in the creation? Some of them are for medicine: but
whatever they are for, in whatever manner they may be useful, they
are certainly not to be used in such a manner as God has expressly
forbidden.

4. “But if they were not thus adorned, Kings and Generals would be
despised by their subjects and soldiers.” Supposing they would, that
is nothing to _you_; for you are neither Kings nor Generals. But it is
absolutely certain, they would not, if they were not despised on other
accounts. If they are valiant and wise, they will never be despised,
for the plainness of their dress. Was ever General or King more
esteemed or beloved by his subjects and soldiers than King _Charles_
of _Sweden_? And ’tis sure, he wore no gold or costly apparel, not so
much as a common officer. But we need not go so many years back. Who
is the Prince that is now honoured and beloved both by his subjects
and soldiers, far beyond any other King or General in _Europe_? There
is no need to repeat his name. But does he gain this honour and love,
by the costliness of his apparel? So far from it, that he rarely uses
any other dress, than the uniform of his own guards.

5. “But if all men were to dress like him, how would tradesmen live?”
I answer, 1. God certainly considered this, or ever he gave these
commands. And he would never have given them, had he not seen, that if
they were universally observed, men in general would live better than
they otherwise could: better in this world, as well as that to come.
But, 2. There is no danger at all, that they should be universally
observed. Only a little flock in any civilized nation will observe
them, till the knowledge of God covers the earth. 3. If those who do
observe them, employ the money they thus save, in the most excellent
manner, then a part of what before only served to fat a few rich
tradesmen for hell, will suffice to feed and clothe and employ
many poor, that seek the kingdom of heaven. 4. And _how_ will those
tradesmen themselves _live_? They will live like men, by honest labour,
most of whom before lived like swine, wallowing in all gluttony and
sensuality. But, 5. This is all mere trifling. It is only a copy of
your countenance. For it is not this, it is not a regard to trade, or
the good of the nation, that makes you disobey God. No: it is pride,
vanity, or some other sinful temper, which is the real cause of these
sinful actions.

6. “But we cannot carry on our own trade, without dressing like other
people.” If you mean only, conforming to those customs of your country,
that are neither gay, nor costly, why should you not “dress like other
people?” I really think you should. Let an Englishman dress like other
Englishmen; not like a Turk or a Tartar. Let an English woman dress
like other English women; not like a French woman or a German. But if
you mean “conformity to them in what God has forbidden,” the answer
is ready at hand. If you can’t carry on your trade without breaking
God’s command, you must not carry it on. But I doubt the fact: I know
no trade which may not be carried on by one who uses plain and modest
apparel. I fear, therefore, this too is but a copy of your countenance:
you _love_ these things, and therefore think them necessary. Your
heart carries away your judgment: if you were not _fond_ of them, you
would never dream of their necessity.

7. In one single case these things may be necessary, that is,
unavoidable, namely, that of women who are under the yoke of
self-willed, unreasonable husbands or parents. Such may be constrained
to do in some degree, what otherwise they would not. And they are
blameless herein, if 1. They use all possible means, arguments,
intreaties, to be excused from it; and when they cannot prevail,
2. Do it just so far as they are constrained, and no farther.


V. 1. And now, brethren, what remains, but that I beseech you who
are not under the yoke, who are, under God, the directors of your
own actions, to set prejudice, obstinacy, fashion aside; and yield
to scripture, to reason, to truth. Suppose, as some affirm, you acted
on no higher motive than to please _me_ herein, I know not that you
would have need to be ashamed; even this you might avow in the face
of the sun. You owe something to _me_: perhaps it is not my fault, if
ye owe not your own souls also. If then you did an indifferent thing,
only on this principle, not to give me any uneasiness, but to oblige,
to comfort me in my labour, would you do much amiss? How much more
may you be excused in doing what I advise, when truth, reason and
scripture advise the same? When the thing in question is not an
indifferent thing, but clearly determined by God himself?

2. Some years ago, when I first landed at _Savannah_ in _Georgia_,
a gentlewoman told me, “I assure you, Sir, you will see as
_well-dressed_ a congregation on Sunday, as most you have seen in
_London_.” I did so: and soon after I took occasion to expound those
scriptures which relate to dress, and to press them freely upon
my audience, in a plain and close application. All the time that I
afterward ministered at _Savannah_, I saw neither gold in the church,
nor costly apparel. But the congregation in general was almost
constantly cloathed in plain, clean linen or woollen.

3. And why should not my advice, grounded on scripture and reason,
weigh with _you_ as much as with them? I will tell you why. 1. You are
surrounded with saints of the world, persons fashionably, reputably
religious. And these are constant opposers of all, who would go
farther in religion than themselves. These are continually warning you
against running into extremes, and striving to beguile you from the
simplicity of the gospel. 2. You have near you still more dangerous
enemies than these, Antinomians, whether _German_ or _English_; who
when any Christian practise is enforced, come in with the cookoo’s
note, “The law, the law;” and while they themselves glory in their
shame, make you ashamed of what should be your glory. 3. You have
suffered by false teachers of our own, who undermined the doctrine you
had received: negatively, in publicly, by not insisting upon it, by
not exhorting you to dress as persons professing godliness: (and, not
to speak _for_ a Christian duty, is in effect to speak _against_ it:)
and positively in private, either by jesting upon your exactness in
observing the scripture-rule, or by insinuations, which if you did
not mind them then, yet would afterward weaken your soul. 4. You have
been, and are at this day _in perils among false brethren_: I mean,
not only those of other congregations, who count _strictness_ all one
with _bondage_: but many of our own; in particular those, who were
once clearly convinced of the truth: but they have sinned away that
conviction themselves, and now endeavour to harden others against it:
at least, by example; by returning again to the folly, from which they
were once clean escaped. But what is the example of all mankind, when
it runs counter to scripture and reason? I have warned you a thousand
times, not to regard any example, which contradicts reason or
scripture. If it ever should be (pray, that it may not be; but if it
ever should) that I or my brother, my wife, or his, or all of us
together, should set an example contrary to scripture and reason: I
intreat you, regard it not at all: still let scripture and reason
prevail.

4. *You who have passed the morning, perhaps the noon of life, who
find the shadows of the evening approach, set a better example to
those that are to come, to the now-rising generation. With you the day
of life is far spent; the night of death is at hand. You have no time
to lose: see that you redeem every moment that remains. Remove every
thing out of the way, be it ever so small (tho’ indeed gay or costly
apparel is not so) that might any ways obstruct your lowliness and
meekness, your seriousness of spirit, your single intention to glorify
God, in all your thoughts and words and actions. Let no needless
expence hinder your being in the highest degree you ♦possibly can,
_rich in good works: ready to distribute, willing to communicate_,
till you are cloathed with glory and immortality.

    ♦ ‘possible’ replaced with ‘possibly’

*Our carcases will soon fall into the dust: then let the survivors
adorn them with flowers. Mean time let us regard those ornaments only,
that will accompany us into eternity.

5. *You that are in the morning of your days, either your form
is agreeable, or it is not. If it is not, do not make your person
remarkable: rather let it lie hid in common apparel. On every account,
it is your wisdom, to recommend yourself to the eye of the mind: but
especially to the eye of God, who reads the secrets of your hearts,
and in whose sight the incorruptible ornaments alone are of great
price. But if you would recommend yourself by dress, is any thing
comparable to plain neatness? What kind of persons are those, to whom
you could be recommended by gay or costly apparel? None that are any
way likely to make you happy: this pleases only the silliest and worst
of men. At most, it gratifies only the silliest and worst principle
in those who are of a nobler character.

6. *To you whom God has intrusted with a more pleasing form, those
ornaments are quite needless,

                 “The adorning thee with so much art
                    Is but a barbarous skill:
                  ’Tis like the poisoning of a dart,
                    Too apt before to kill.”

That is, to express ourselves in plain English, without any figure
of poetry, it only tends to drag them faster into death everlasting,
who were going fast enough before, by additional provocations to lust,
or at least, inordinate affection. Did you actually _design_ to raise
either of these, in those who looked upon you? What, while you and
they were in the more immediate presence of God? What profaneness
and inhumanity mixt together! But if you designed it not, did you
not _foresee_ it? You might have done so, without any extraordinary
sagacity. “Nay, I did not care or think about it.” And do you say this
by way of excuse? You _scatter abroad arrows, firebrands and death_;
and do not care or think about it!

7. *O let us all walk more charitably and more wisely for the time
to come! Let us all cast aside from this very hour, whatever does
not become men and _women professing godliness_: whatever does not
spring from the love and fear of God, and minister thereto. Let our
seriousness _shine before men_, not our dress: let all who see us
know that we are not of this world. Let our adorning be that which
fadeth not away, even righteousness and true holiness. If ye regard
not weakening my hands and grieving my spirit, yet grieve not the Holy
Spirit of God. Do you ask, “But what shall I do with the gay or costly
apparel, and with the ornaments I have already? Must I suffer them to
be lost? Ought I not to wear them now I have them?” I answer, There is
no loss like that of using them: wearing them is the greatest loss of
all. But what then shalt thou do with them? Burn them rather than wear
them; throw them into the depth of the sea. Or if thou canst with a
clear conscience, sell them, and give the money to them that want. But
buy no more at the peril of thy soul. Now be a faithful steward. After
providing for those of thine own houshold things needful for life and
godliness, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, relieve the sick, the
prisoner, the stranger, with all that thou hast. Then shall God clothe
thee with glory and honour, in the presence of men and angels: and
thou shalt _shine as the brightness of the firmament_, yea, _as the
stars for ever and ever_.




                  THE DUTIES OF HUSBANDS and WIVES.


I AM persuaded, it is not possible for me to write any thing so full,
so strong, and so clear on this subject, as has been written near an
hundred and fifty years ago, by a person of equal sense and piety.
I shall therefore only abridge what he has written on the head, with
some few alterations and additions. I beseech you all, who are more
immediately concerned, to read it with the calmest attention, and with
earnest prayer, that what is here written, may be transcribed into
your hearts and lives.




                               CHAP. I.

              _The first duty of the Married_, Chastity.


1. THIS duty is so manifest, that no person whatever can pretend
ignorance of it. The law of God, the law of nature, and the laws of
all well ordered societies enjoin it. The violation of this unties
the marriage-knot, and dissolves the marriage-covenant. For our Lord
himself, who utterly disallows of other divorces, yet allows divorce
in case of adultery. “But may the person wronged admit the wrongdoer
again, after the offence is known?” I answer, they may, provided the
offender give full, satisfactory proof of amendment. We read not any
command to the contrary. But if the offender persist in sin, then the
innocent person, having full proof thereof, is bound to withdraw from
the sinner.

2. Let any who find strong temptations to this sin, 1. Constantly and
conscientiously perform private duties. The blessing of God hereon
will make him conqueror, over what before seemed most unconquerable.
2. Be diligent in your calling, that you may have no leisure for
inflaming imaginations. It is certain, an idle person, if occasion
and constitution serve, will sooner or later prove adulterous. But
diligence joined with hearty prayer, will preserve a man pure and
undefiled. 3. Be exactly temperate. It is easy to put out the fiercest
fire, by withdrawing the fewel. If therefore you would be chaste
in your marriage, be sparing in your food. 4. Carefully shun every
temptation and all opportunities of sin: especially, shun as a rock
the company of any person apt to tempt, or to be tempted; and consider,
that the coldest water will be hot, if it be set near the fire.

3. These directions are such as agree to all, married or unmarried.
There remains another help peculiar to the former, the due use of
marriage. The ordinances of God will answer their end, if our abuse of
them do not hinder. Now God has ordained marriage for this end, among
others, to prevent fornication. Wherefore let it be used in the manner
it ought, and it will surely answer its end. And in this respect, _the
wife hath not power over her own body, but the husband_. Neither _hath
the husband power over his own body, but the wife_. It is not in the
choice of either, whether to live with the other, or not. But they are
bound in conscience so to do, and cannot refuse it without grievous
sin. There may indeed be a separation for a time, if needful affairs
require. But it is not lawful for either the man or the woman to leave
the other totally or finally.

4. In this their society two things are to be observed, that it
be sanctified and temperate. First, it must be _sanctified_, that
is, made lawful and holy to them _by the word of_ God _and prayer_.
The word of God clearly shews the lawfulness of it. For God has
said expresly, _Marriage is honourable among all men, and the bed
undefiled_. But let it also be _sanctified_ or made holy _by prayer_.
Solemnly pray for the blessing of God upon his ordinance, not
forgetting to return him particular thanks for his infinite goodness
herein. That this is requisite none can deny, that will not deny
the authority of St. _Paul_. For he affirms, that marriage, as well
as meat and drink, is sanctified by _prayer and thanksgiving_. As
therefore it is a brutish profaneness, for any man to sit down to his
table, as an horse to the manger, without asking the blessing of God
first, and to return from it, as a fox from his prey, without praising
him that gave him food and appetite; so it is great licentiousness for
married persons to come together, as it were brute beasts, without
either prayer or thanksgiving. The hope of posterity, the stay of old
age, the support of every man’s house, the supply of the church and
common-wealth, hang upon the fruit of marriage. Is it then more than
needs, to ask the blessing of God in a thing of so great importance?
Surely we should bring his curse upon us, were we either to forget it
as needless, or despise it as ridiculous. Yea, whereas marriage is
instituted in part for the subduing inordinate desires, it cannot
answer that end, without God’s blessing; which how can we expect, if
we scorn to ask it? Certainly, the men that use marriage in a brutish
manner, not seeing God therein, nor sanctifying it to themselves by
these means, will thereby become more and more brutish. Wherefore let
no man scoff at a duty plainly commanded by God: but let us learn to
know the full efficacy of prayer, and to reap the fruit of it in all
things.

5. It must, secondly, Be temperate. We are always to remember, God
ordained marriage chiefly for the increase of mankind, and not to
kindle lustful desires, but to quench them. I confess, we should take
great heed of laying snares upon mens consciences, and must be very
careful not to bind them, where God has not bound them. But this
is a sure rule: the quantity of every thing, must be suited to the
end. This being considered, the married are not to provoke desires,
but allay them, when they provoke themselves. They must not strive
to inflame the passions when they are cool, but when they are moved
of themselves, to assuage them. In a word, marriage should be used
as sparingly, as consists with the need of the persons married. A
temperate use promotes purity: excess inflames lust, and inclines
to adultery. Wherefore the foregoing rule should be carefully
observed, that the married come no oftener together, than is needful
to extinguish natural desires, when they would otherwise become
troublesome to them. Now the sanctified use of marriage is also an
help to the temperate use of it. But they seldom fail to exceed,
who do not take care to make all things holy by _prayer and
thanksgiving_.

6. Perhaps one might add, it should ever be accompanied with
chearfulness and willingness. They must neither deny themselves to
each other, nor behave with grudging and forwardness; but rather with
readiness and all demonstrations of sincere affection. The scripture
plainly testifies this, by the very term _benevolence_ or _good-will_.
For no man can call that good-will, which is done churlishly and
discontentedly: a behaviour that naturally tends to alienate the heart,
and create suspicions of estrangement of affection.


                              CHAP. II.

                 _Of the_ Love _of married Persons_.

1. THE marriage-covenant binds all that enter into it, to several
other duties, as well as to chastity: but not under the same
forfeiture, failing in these breaks God’s command, but does not break
the bond of matrimony. No ill-behaviour dissolves this, while we are
not wronged as to the marriage-bed. Thou art still an husband or a
wife, though thy yoke-fellow is wanting in many duties. Be careful
therefore to do thy own part still, however slenderly thou art
requited.

2. The duties common to husbands and wives, partly respect themselves,
and partly their families. All the former sort may be reduced to
two heads, love and the fruits of love. First, Love: their hearts
must be united as well as their hands: else their union will be
more troublesome than can be imagined. Love is the life and soul of
marriage, without which it differs from itself as a carcase from a
living body. This makes all things easy, whereas the absence of it
makes all things hard. Love seasons and sweetens every state; love
composes all controversies. In whomsoever love prevails, to them only
marriage is what it should be, a pleasing combination of two persons
into one home, one purse; one heart and one flesh. And this love must
have two especial properties, first, It must be spiritual; secondly,
matrimonial. It must be spiritual in its ground, and in its working.
Its chief ground must be the commandment of God. A Christian must love
his wife, not only because she is beautiful or loving, but chiefly
because God enjoins it. The wife must love her husband, not only
because he is handsome, kind or well-behaved, but because God the
sovereign of all souls, has commanded women to be _lovers of their
own husbands_. Not the face, portion or good qualities of the married,
must be the chief cause of their loving each other, but the will of
God; and that affection which stands on this stable foundation will
be lasting: while that which stands on any other consideration, will
be subject to change every hour. For how can the building stand fast,
if the foundation sink away? Either some storm of contention will
overthrow that love, or it will fall down of itself thro’ age. Or else
it will degenerate into jealousy, the devouring canker-worm, that eats
up the hearts of married persons, and consumes or spoils the sweet
fruit they may reap. But he that loves his wife, because she is his
wife, and God commands him to love her as such, will love her, so long
as she is his wife, whatever she prove beside. Thou lovest thy wife,
because she is fair, good-humoured, courteous: but what if all these
should fail? Thou lovest thy husband, because he is handsome, sensible,
kind: but where will thy love be, if these things should alter? You
see there is no firmness in that love, which is procured only by these
motives. But if thou love thy wife or husband, because God enjoins it,
then thy love will be constant and perpetual.

3. This property of love, that it is spiritual, built on the rock
of God’s commandment, answers all the objections which many would
make against it in their own cases. “Who, says a man, can love such
a wife?” “And what wife, says a woman, can love such an husband?” I
answer, a man whose affection is spiritual, can love even such a wife.
And the woman who has attained to spiritual love finds it possible to
love even such an husband.

4. But as the ground of their love must be spiritual, so must also the
working thereof. It must seek the spiritual good of the person beloved,
by every possible means. For that love which seeks only their temporal
welfare, deserves no better name than carnal love. But surely those
who love each other, because God bids them, will love each other as
God bids them. They will be careful of each others souls, as well
as of their bodies and estates. But alas! How exceedingly does the
love of most married people fail herein? Thou art kind to thy wife
or husband, and it goes to thy heart, to think any thing should be
wanting for their good. It is well; but so may a Turk as well as thou,
if by good, thou meanest only that which is temporal. But dost thou
seek to help thy yoke-fellow to heavenly, as well as earthly benefits?
This is spiritual love: this becomes a Christian husband, and a
Christian wife. Be not then _carnal_ in your love, _walking as men_,
but spiritual as the children of God.

5. *But remember farther, that your love must be matrimonial, as well
as spiritual. It must be matrimonial, with regard, 1. To the degree,
and 2. To the effect of it. For the first, A man should love his wife,
a woman her husband, above all the creatures in the world. Next to
the living God, the wife is to have the highest place in the husband’s
heart, and he in her’s. No neighbour, no friend, no parent, no child,
should be so near and dear to either as the other. They are joined in
the closest of all unions; therefore their mutual affection should be
most abundant. They must do more and suffer more for each other, than
for any other in all the world. They must bear with more faults in
each other than any besides, and be ready to take more pains for each
other.

6. Secondly, As to the effect of this love, it should knit them
together, that they may receive full satisfaction in each other. Love
should cause a man to account his wife the only woman in the world:
and so the wife to account her husband the only man in the world.
The persons of each should be to the other the most precious of all
persons. Do any object, this cannot be, unless every man and every
woman, could find in their own yoke-fellow as amiable qualities as are
to be found in others: I answer, not the good qualities of either, but
the good pleasure of God is the ground of their mutual dearness. Good
qualities make this duty more easy: but it is still a duty, tho’ good
qualities be away. A man may lawfully think another woman a better
woman than his own wife. But he may not love another woman, tho’ more
virtuous, above his own, tho’ less virtuous. This is the effect of
matrimonial love, to settle the heart of each upon the other, above
all in the world besides. It admits of none equal in affection, but
places the yoke-fellow next to our own soul. Nor will it bear the
desire of change, but so links their hearts together, that in this
respect they are only dear to each other.

7. The means to get and confirm this love, is to have one house, one
table, one bed. But besides this natural means of procuring love,
there are two spiritual means. The one is, to take special notice, of
God’s gracious providence in their match. They must often consider,
that God joined them together, for their mutual benefit, as being on
the whole fitter for each other, than any person besides could be. We
know, that a mean gift is often respected, for the giver’s sake. And
he that loveth God, cannot but love all his blessings for his sake.
Wherefore remember, that God in great goodness (for crosses also come
to God’s children from his goodness) hath bestowed this yoke-fellow,
and thou shalt dearly love thy wife or husband, tho’ perhaps not so
well-tempered. For the dearness of the giver will countervail the
defects of the gift. And then thy yoke-fellow’s distempers will grieve
thee indeed, but not alienate thy affection.

8. Another means of uniting your souls is, constantly to join in
exercises of piety. Pray together: sing together: confer together,
concerning your heavenly country. And this will be found an excellent
means of confirming your mutual love. These will nourish the Spirit of
holiness in you: and that inkindles love wherever it comes. By these
you will soon perceive yourselves to have been spiritually profitable
to each other: and to receive a spiritual benefit cannot but beget and
nourish spiritual affection. Naturally you would grow weary of each
other: but if you season your natural communion, with this communion
in spiritual things, it will prevent all satiety. Jars and contentions
are the great hindrances of love; but the joining together in these
exercises, will cause you to jar far more seldom: nor will any sudden
jar fester or rankle, so as to breed hard thoughts of one another,
which are the bane of love. Prayer will prevent most contentions and
compose all: for when you shall appear before God in prayer, instead
of blaming each other, you will each blame yourself, and then all
contention will cease.

9. But some may say, “What shall I do, who have such an husband or
wife, as neither can nor will join with me, in the service of God?”
I answer, pray for that yoke-fellow, who will not pray with thee.
The less able or willing they are to intreat for themselves, the more
frequently and earnestly intreat God for them. It may be, God will
give thee thy desire, and turn their hearts to thee. At least, thy own
soul will gain an increase of heavenly love to them. And this is sure,
that to love your yoke-fellow spiritually and fervently, tho’ you are
not loved again, is far better, than to be loved of them, without so
loving.




                              CHAP. III.

                      _Of the_ Effects of Love.


1. THE effects of nuptial love are three, Pleasingness, Faithfulness,
Helpfulness. The first, which must mix itself with all the rest, is
an earnest desire to please each other, so far as it is possible to
be done, without sinning against God. Wherefore the husband must do
or leave undone, any thing he can, that he may please his wife: and
the wife must in any thing cross her own desires that she may satisfy
his. In diet, attire, choice of company, and all things else, each
must fulfill the other’s desire, as absolutely as can be done, without
transgressing the law of God. As difficult as this may seem at first,
practice will make it easy. Resolutely begin, and the proceeding will
be pleasanter than the beginning. Especially if both labour together,
each seeking to oblige the other. For it cannot be difficult to
satisfy one, who desires to take as well as to give satisfaction.

2. But some will say, “This suits not me, nothing will satisfy my
froward yoke-fellow.” I answer, It may be so: it is not in ones power,
to make a froward person take a thing well. But it is in your power,
to do your best, to satisfy such an one; and to strive the more, the
more averse to peace your companion is. “But it is hard, to be still
striving against the stream.” It is; but duties must not be omitted
because they are hard. The scholar, who has an hard lesson, must
take the more pains to learn it. So the husband or wife, that has a
perverse companion, must take the more pains to please them. Let the
difficulty therefore make thee more diligent: and encourage thyself
in this tedious labour, by thinking, “If after all I cannot please my
yoke-fellow, I shall not fail to please God. Yea, and the harder the
work is, the better he will take it at my hands. Therefore I will so
behave, that they may receive content in all things, if any thing but
sin will content them.” This caution indeed we must observe; for we
may not, to please anyone, sin against God. If any thing but sin will
satisfy, thou must do it, be it ever so contrary to thy own will. But
if thou canst not fulfill the desires of a creature, without breaking
the law of God, then thou must not fulfill them: better offend a
mortal man, than the immortal God.

3. In the next place, husband and wife are to be faithful and helpful
to each other. These two must always be united: therefore we speak
of them together. This was the principal thing which God designed in
the creation of the woman. _It is not good_, saith he, _for man to be
alone: I will make him an help meet for him_. And undoubtedly man was
intended to give, as well as to receive help. This helpful fidelity
consists in their mutual care to abstain from and prevent whatever
might grieve or hurt either: and to do themselves, and incite others
to do, whatever might comfort or benefit either. And this must extend
to the soul, the body, the name, and the estate.

4. First, to the souls, by provoking each other on all occasions, to
inward and outward holiness. The husband must further the wife in all
goodness, and the wife the husband: for she has also liberty to stir
up her husband, by intreaty and fair means. And as they have special
opportunity, so they should be always ready, with special diligence,
to _provoke one another to love and to good works_. O how sweet is
the society when they thus watch all occasions to further each other
in godliness! Again; being continually together, they may discover
in each other divers corruptions and imperfections. They must not
turn these into matter of contempt, but of compassion and care for
each others reformation. They should observe each others temper, ’till
they perceive what infirmities each is chiefly inclined to, and then
diligently abstain from what may provoke that evil, and apply all
means that may heal it. If all their labour does not avail, they must
not fear to seek the help of some common friend, who possibly may
effect that cure, which themselves had endeavoured in vain. And if
even this does not succeed, still they must wait and pray, referring
the matter to God, the only physician of the soul, who is able in due
time to redress all.

5. The same faithful helpfulness they owe, to the bodies of each
other. They must shun all things that might cause sickness or pain to
each other, and readily undergo any pains or cost, according to their
power, to procure whatever is necessary either to keep or recover
their health. They must comfort each other, in the days of sorrow,
that worldly sorrow work not death. The wife must be health to her
husband in his sickness: she must support his weakness, and he her’s.
Sickness and weakness are things which of themselves are hard enough
to be borne. There needs not the addition of unkindness to make the
burden heavier. Let every husband and wife avoid or mend this fault,
and be particularly careful of their behaviour, at that time above all,
when either is visited with grief, or weakness, or sickness. When your
wife is sick or pain’d, then comfort her with loving words, and chear
her by a tender countenance. Then see that she want no looking too, no
help which thou canst procure. When thy husband is sick or weak, then
stay him with comfortable speech, revive him with diligent attendance.
Do all thou canst, to ease his pain, and to recover his strength. Let
thy love and care be his best physic, and thyself his best physician.
This is to be faithful to thy husband’s body, and to “cherish him in
sickness as in health.”

6. In the third place, man and wife must be faithfully helpful to each
others names, and that in a double respect: in maintaining them both
between themselves and also among others. First, they must hold fast a
good opinion of each other, so far as it may possibly stand with truth.
Yea, it is no blame for them to have somewhat too good an opinion of
each other: for a man to think his wife not only more handsome, but
more wise and good than she is; (making her virtues carry a greater
show to the eye, by looking at them thro’ the glass of love:) and for
her to think him not only more proper, but more kind and good than he
really is, by taking things with that largeness of good interpretation,
which much love naturally puts upon them. Certainly then they should
be peremptory to give no place to ungrounded, unwarranted surmises.
They must on no account suffer their hearts to grow mistrustful of
each other. All rash, ill-built, hasty surmises, must be far from
them. Otherwise love will go out at the same door, at which suspicion
came in. He or she that has a suspicious head, has not a truly
loving heart. Such may be lustful or fond; but an holy, virtuous,
spiritual affection they cannot have. So long as they give way to
evil surmisings, there is no place for this. *And therefore of all
domestic makebates, of all that breeds quarrel between married people,
nothing in the world is more pestilently effectual to this bad end
than jealousy. Having leavened the heart, it makes the speech tart
and sharp, the countenance sour, the whole behaviour distasteful. No
good words, no good actions, or ♦gestures, or looks can proceed from
a jealous heart. Jealousy will make one suck mischievous things out
of his own fingers ends. Suffer not therefore this evil weed to grow
up in the garden of matrimony. For no good herb will prosper by it;
no praise-worthy thing will flourish. Let all then that are married,
detest any thought of this kind that may arise. Let their hearts
disdain to give the least credit, unless the proofs be more than
manifest. Away then with this makebate jealousy, this quarreler
suspicion, this breeder of brawls, this mother and nurse of contention,
this underminer of love and of good husbandry, of all that should
be profitable to an houshold. Away with it, I say, out of thy heart:
chase it far from thy breast, from thy house. It is better to receive
ten wrongs without suspecting, than to suspect one that is not
received. Wherefore as thou wouldst stand for the good name of thy
companion, against the tongue of a slanderer, so stand for it against
the dreams of thy own heart, against thy own slanderous imagination.
And if any person will suffer his lips to be so ill employed, as
to become Satan’s bellows, by blowing these coals betwixt you, by
telling thee this or that, rebuke such a person, reject his words
with detestation, flee his company, nor defile thy ears and heart,
by giving gentle audience to a whisperer and talebearer. In a word,
wouldst thou love or be loved? Wouldst thou live otherwise in marriage,
than as in a prison or dungeon? Then strengthen thy heart against all
suspicion, and rather be any thing than jealous.

    ♦ ‘guestures’ replaced with ‘gestures’

7. Ye must be tender also of each other’s reputation abroad.
This requireth two things: First, that each labour to conceal the
weaknesses of the other, so far as is possible, from all men. The
husband must endeavour, that none may know of his wife’s faults, but
himself: and the wife must do her best to keep her husband’s faults
from the knowledge of every creature. On the contrary, to publish each
others sins, is a monstrous treachery. To backbite an enemy is a sin:
how much more to backbite ones yoke-fellow? Whose faults can a man
cover if not his wife’s, that is in effect, his own? Or who can be
free from reproach, if one so near as his wife, deface his good name?
’Tis impossible but man and wife must sooner or later discover their
weaknesses to one another. And for them to be playing the tell-tale
against each other, what soul does not loath to think of it? If thou
hast been so sinfully talkative before, now for shame lay thy hand
upon thy mouth, that thou mayst no more incur the name of fool, by
making thy tongue to spread abroad folly.

8. But besides this, you must faithfully keep each others secrets.
A man may have occasion to acquaint his wife, with things which he
would not reveal to others; so may a woman to acquaint her husband.
Now if in such cases a wife find, that her husband has revealed
what she intrusted with him alone; or he find, that she has revealed
what he spoke to her in the confidence of love, this will breed such
a distrust of the offending party, as will not easily be removed.
Wherefore let husbands and wives always mind this: If he lay up any
thing in her breast, let him find it safe there, as in a chest, which
cannot be opened by any pick-lock. If she commit a thing to his safe
keeping, let it be imprisoned in his bosom. Otherwise no man can chuse
but be strange to one, whom experience has convinced of blabbing. And
it is an infallible truth, that there is no comfortable living with
one whom you cannot trust.

9. The last part of faithful helpfulness to each other, is that which
concerns their estates. And to this end it is requisite, first, that
all things be common between them, goods as well as persons: For
if they make not a division in the greater, it is absurd to make it
in the less. They should have one house and one purse: for they are
one, and their estates should be one also. And having thus united
their fortunes, let them, secondly, practise good husbandry therein.
This implies three things, diligence in getting, prudence in saving,
providence in foreseeing. These three, industry, frugality, and
forecast, make up good husbandry. And if any of these are wanting,
so much is wanting to the perfection of it; and so much also will be
wanting, for their comfort and prosperity.




                               CHAP IV.

          _Of the_ duties _of the married to their_ family.


1. A Man and his wife, who before were members of other families, join
together that they may become the roots of a new family: Wherein by
training up their servants and children, they provide plants for God’s
vineyard, the church. In this family the husband is the head; the
wife is the next, as subordinate to him. They are both to maintain
and govern their family. First, they must join in providing it with
all necessaries, imitating herein the father of this great family,
the world, who fills every creature with good things fit for it. But
they must govern as well as maintain their houshold; the man as God’s
immediate officer, the woman as an officer deputed by him, not equal,
but subordinate: he, by the authority derived immediately from God,
she by authority derived from her husband.

2. The first point, in order to the due government of their family, is
to educate their children well; more especially in their tender years.
I cannot lay down a better method for this, than is laid down in a
letter printed some years since; part of which is here subjoined.

*“According to your desire, I have collected the principal rules I
observed in educating my family. The children (she had ten who came to
man’s estate, eight of whom were frequently at home together) were put
into a regular method of living, in such things as they were capable
of, from their birth, as in dressing, undressing, changing their linen,
&c. The first quarter commonly passes in sleep. After that, they were,
if possible, laid into their cradles awake, and rocked asleep, and so
they were kept rocking till it was time for them to awake. This was
done to bring them to a regular course of sleeping, which at first was
three hours in the morning, and three in the afternoon: afterwards two
hours till they needed none at all.

*“When they were turned a year old, they were taught to fear the rod,
and cry softly. By this means they escaped abundance of correction
which otherwise they must have had, and that odious noise of the
crying of children was rarely heard in the house.

*“As soon as they were grown pretty strong, they were confined to
three meals a day. They were never suffered to chuse their meat, but
always ate such things as were provided for the family. Whatever they
had, they were never permitted to eat of more than one thing. Drinking
or eating between meals was never allowed, but in case of sickness,
which rarely happened.

*“At six they had their supper. At seven their maid washed them, and
got them all to bed by eight. Then she left them in their several
rooms awake: for we allowed no such thing, as sitting by a child till
it fell asleep.

“They were so constantly used to eat and drink what was given them,
that when any of them was ill, there was no difficulty in making them
take the most unpleasant medicine. This I mention, to shew a person
may be taught to take any thing, be it ever so disagreeable.

*“In order to form the minds of children, the first thing to be done,
is, to conquer their will. To inform their understanding is a work of
time, and must proceed by slow degrees: but the subjecting the will is
a thing which must be done at once; and the sooner the better. For by
our neglecting timely correction, they contract a stubbornness, which
is hardly ever to be conquered, and never without using that severity,
which would be as painful to us as to the children. Therefore I call
those cruel parents, who pass for kind and indulgent: who permit their
children to contract habits, which they know must be afterwards broken.

“Whenever a child is corrected, it must be conquered. And when his
will is totally subdued, then a great many childish follies and
inadvertencies may be past by. Some should be overlooked and taken
no notice of, and others mildly reproved. But no wilful transgression
should ever be forgiven, without chastisement, less or more.

“I insist upon conquering the wills of children betimes, because this
is the only foundation of a religious education, without which both
precept and example will be ineffectual. But when this is throughly
done, then a child is capable of being governed by the reason of
its parent, till its own understanding comes to maturity, and the
principles of religion have taken root.

*“I cannot yet dismiss this subject. As self-will is the root of all
sin and misery, so whatever cherishes this in children, ensures their
after wretchedness and irreligion; and whatever checks and mortifies
it, promotes their future happiness and piety. This is still more
evident, if we consider, that religion is nothing else but the doing
the will of God, not our own: and that self-will being the grand
impediment to our temporal and eternal happiness, no indulgence of it
can be trivial, no denial of it unprofitable. Heaven or hell depends
on this alone. So that the parent who studies to subdue it in his
children, works together with God in the saving a soul; the parent
who indulges it, does the devil’s work, makes religion impracticable,
salvation unattainable, and does all that in him lies, to damn his
child, soul and body for ever.”

3. This advice, first, to conquer the wills of children, is exactly
agreeable to the apostle’s direction to parents, Eph. vi. 4. _Train
them up_, (I do not say, _in the nurture and admonition of the_ Lord;
for I know not what that odd expression means, but) ἐν παιδεία καὶ
νουθεσία Κυρίου, _in the discipline and instruction of the_ Lord. Ἐν
♦παιδεία, _in the discipline_ first; then ἐν νουθεσία, in Christian
knowledge; because they may be inured to discipline, before they
are capable of _instruction_. *This therefore I cannot but earnestly
repeat, break their wills betimes: begin this great work before they
can run alone, before they can speak plain, perhaps before they can
speak at all. Whatever pains it costs, conquer their stubbornness:
break the will, if you would not damn the child. I conjure you, not to
neglect, not to delay this. Therefore, 1. Let a child, from a year old,
be taught to fear the rod, and to cry softly. It cannot be exprest,
how much pains this will save both to the parent and the child.
In order to this, 2. Let him have nothing he cries for; absolutely
nothing, great or small. Let this be an unvariable rule; else you undo
all your own work. 3. At all events, from that age, make him do as
he is bid, if you whip him ten times running to effect it. Let none
persuade you it is cruelty to do this: it is real cruelty, not to do
it. If you spare the rod, you spoil the child; if you do not conquer,
you ruin him. Break his will now, and his soul shall live, and he will
probably bless you to all eternity.

    ♦ ‘παιθεία’ replaced with ‘παιδεία’

4. *But we are by nature not only full of self-will, but likewise of
pride, atheism, anger, falshood and idolatry. Now the end of education
is to counteract and remove all the corruption of nature; of Christian
education in particular, termed by St. _Paul_, _the discipline and
instruction of the_ Lord. Set yourselves, therefore, ye Christian
parents, to the work. Indeed it is not a little one. In order to
accomplish it, you will need both the wisdom and the power of God:
in order to root up, instead of strengthening, as most do, all these
roots of bitterness. Self-will has been spoken of already. The next
evil are you to oppose in children is pride. In order to guard against
this, 1. Never commend them to their face, either for their goodness,
sense or beauty. It is deadly poison. It is the direct way to plunge
their souls in everlasting perdition. 2. Suffer no other to do it, if
you can possibly prevent it: and if any should commend them, in their
hearing, regard not ♦complaisance, or good-breeding so called, but
check them immediately. 3. Lovingly shew them their faults, especially
their wrong tempers, as soon as ever their understanding dawns. 4. In
particular, labour to convince them of atheism: shew them, that they
are _without_ God in _the world_: that they do not know God; that they
do not love, delight in, or enjoy him, any more than do the beasts
that perish. 5. Do not teach them revenge: never say, “Who hurts my
child? Give me a blow for him.” Do not encourage them in anger, by
laughing at, or seeming pleased with their little froward tricks.
Rather check them for the least appearance of it, much more for an
angry word or action. 6. Let property be inviolably maintained among
your little ones. Let none of them dare to take the very least thing,
not an apple or a pin, without, much less, against the consent of the
owner. 7. Do not teach them lying. Never say, “It was not my child
that did so.” On the contrary, inure them to confess their faults,
and to tell the truth at all hazards. 8. Begin early to guard them
against idolatry, against the love of the world in all its branches.
Do nothing to feed in them _the desire of the flesh_; that is, of the
pleasures of sense. Keep them (on this account, as well as on account
of health) to the plainest, simplest diet. If they do not want it as
physic, let them taste no liquid till ten or twelve years old, but
water or milk. Above all, let no tea come within their lips, no strong
drink of any kind. If they never have it, they will never desire it.
It is wholly _your_ fault if they do. Do nothing to feed in them _the
desire of the eye_. Let their dress also be plain and simple. Let them
always (so far as your circumstances will allow) be clean, but never
fine. Let them never wear any thing that is ♠showy, any thing that is
gay or glittering. Put nothing upon them that attracts the eye, either
their own, or that of others. Give them nothing, nor suffer others
to give them any thing that is purely ornamental. Dress your children
just as you dress yourself, that when they are grown up, they may
have nothing to unlearn. More full directions on these heads, and many
others, you have in the “Instructions for Children,” which I advise
every parent to read again and again, and to put it in practice with
all his power.

    ♦ ‘complisance’ replaced with ‘complaisance’

    ♠ ‘showey’ replaced with ‘showy’

5. The government of your family in general respects matters of God,
and matters of the world. Your first care must be, that the living God
be duly worshipped by all in your house. To this end, you must read
the scriptures, call upon the name of God among them, and catechise
them in the principles of religion, that none under your roof may be
ignorant of the great truths of the gospel. To this end also you must
see, that they sanctify the sabbath: you must carefully and constantly
bring them to the public assemblies, and examine them afterwards,
how they profit thereby. If this care be wanting, you will want
the blessing of God on all your other cares. Wherefore, let man and
wife be principally helpful to each other in this business. When the
husband is present, let him read and pray with the family, and teach
them the fear of the Lord. In his absence, let his wife do these
duties, or at least take care to see them done. And let both of them
provide and allow convenient time and leisure for the same: and let
each quicken the slackness of the other, if either begin to grow weary.
If he _is worse than an infidel_, who provideth not food and cloathing
for his family, what is he that lets their souls go naked, for want of
that which is both food and cloathing to them; I mean, instruction in
the things that pertain to life and godliness? Herein, then, let all
husbands and wives be of one mind in the Lord, using all good means to
plant and water piety in the hearts of all that are under their care.

6. As to matters of the world, first, They must appoint their
inferiors such works and services, as they are severally fit for, and
then follow and look after them, that they may perform those services.
Had not the Lord seen, that inferiors would need this, he would not
have made this difference in the family. But God saw, that the best
servants need this help, and therefore ordained governors; generally
two, that the absence of the one might be supplied by the presence
of the other. Secondly, You must mark the carriage of your inferiors,
and see what disorders do, or are ready to break in, whether openly
or secretly, that they may be either prevented or resisted speedily.
Idleness, tatling, discord, and many more evils, are apt to steal
even on good servants and children, which the Lord well knowing, made
rulers in the house, to keep all in good order: and if this care be
some trouble, yet the mischiefs which arise from the want of it are
much more troublesome: whereas, if the eyes of the master and mistress
be always open, much peace will follow in the house. Thirdly, You
must join in admonishing, encouraging, reproving, and, if need be,
correcting your inferiors. Both must discountenance what is evil, and
encourage what is good. And in so doing you must take care to maintain
each other’s authority to the full. If one encourage, the other must
not oppose; if one reprove, the other must not defend. If he see cause
to correct the children, she must not grow angry or hinder: neither,
when she would correct, must he save them out of her hands. Nay,
suppose either should exceed, correcting either without cause, or
above measure, the other must not find fault, in hearing of the
inferiors; but they must debate the matter between themselves, and
keep their disagreements from appearing in the family. So therefore
join hands, that your dissention may not blast the fruit of all your
endeavours. So shall you preserve your authority, ♦increase your love
to each other, and procure amendment in your inferiors.

    ♦ ‘encrease’ replaced with ‘increase’




                               CHAP. V.

                _Of a_ Man’_s keeping his_ Authority.


1. IT is the duty of an husband, to govern his wife, and to maintain
her. The former implies, that he keep his authority, and that he
use it. And, first, every man is bound to keep himself in that place
wherein his Maker hath set him, and to hold fast that precedency which
God hath assigned him. The Lord hath intitled him _your head_, and
he may not take a lower place. The contempt redounds upon God, which
a man takes upon himself, by making his wife his master. But perhaps
some will say, “All this is reasonable, if it were practicable. But
there are some wives so proud, headstrong, and stubborn, that their
husbands cannot govern them.” I answer, most men blame their wives,
when the real fault is in themselves. Man cannot hinder a violent
woman from assaulting his authority, but he may from winning it:
not indeed by violence, but by skill; not by main force, but by a
♦steady and wise proceeding. And, first, let him endeavour to exceed
his wife in goodness as he does in place. Let him walk uprightly and
religiously in his family, and give a good example to all in the house.
Then any reasonable woman will give him the better place, whom she
sees to be the better person. Take pains then to make thyself good,
and that is the most compendious way to make thyself reverenced.

    ♦ ‘steddy’ replaced with ‘steady’

2. This in general. But in particular, shun those evils, that make a
man seem vile in the eyes of those that are round about him. The first
of these is bitterness: sharp, tart carriage, reviling, passionate,
provoking language, are fitly so called; being as offensive to the
mind, as gall and worm-wood to the palate. This bitterness shews folly,
and works hatred, and therefore must needs be a great underminer of
authority. For wherever want of wisdom is, there will ensue want of
reverence. He that would retain his pre-eminence, must, secondly,
avoid unthriftiness, another great enemy to reverence. Drunkenness,
gaming, and ill company, are the three parts of unthriftiness. And
whoever gives way to any of these, must expect to be despised. Thirdly,
lightness must be avoided by husbands, all foolish, childish behaviour,
that wears no stamp of gravity or discretion, but savours of a kind
of boyishness. If the husband puts a fool’s coat upon his back, can
he blame his wife for laughing at him? Cast therefore all those base
evils from you, and strive for holiness and gravity of conversation,
that your superiority, supported by such pillars, may stand upright
and unshaken.

3. But how is a man to use this authority, so that it may answer the
end for which it is given? The end of it is, _That he may present her
to_ God, _holy and without blemish_; that he may so govern her, as
to weaken every corruption, and strengthen every grace in her soul.
In order to do this, he must temper the exercise of his authority,
by justice, wisdom and mildness. Justice is the life and soul of
government, without which it is no better than a dead carcase: wisdom
is the eye of government, without which it is like a strong man stark
blind. Mildness is the health and good constitution of government: and
when these are all joined together, then the husband is, as it were,
God in the family, a resemblance of his sovereignty and goodness.

4. Justice is to be practised in directing and recompensing. For the
first, a man must not so abuse his authority, as to enjoin any thing
sinful: what God commands, he must not forbid; what God forbids, he
must not command. Let no husband forget, that the Lord in heaven, and
the magistrate on earth, are above him. He and his wife are equally
subject to these. Therefore let him never set his private authority
against theirs, nor make his wife undutiful to either of these, by a
false claim of duty to himself. For instance: let no husband command
his wife to lie for his advantage, to break the sabbath for his gain;
to partake of his fraud, or sin of any kind. Neither let any man
forbid his wife to pray unto God, to attend his word and sacraments;
to use any of the means which God hath made the ordinary channels of
his grace. See then, all ye husbands that your directions to your
wives agree with the laws of God. Otherwise to disobey you is the
better obedience, and to reject your evil directions, is not to deny
subjection to your persons but to your sins, yea to the devil himself,
who rules in you.

5. But this rule of justice must extend a little farther. The husband
must not urge his authority, not only in things unlawful, but even
in those that _seem_ unlawful to his wife’s mistaken confidence. He
ought not to force her to what she _thinks_ a sin. Conscience is God’s
immediate officer, and tho’ it is mistaken, must be obeyed, ’till it
be better informed. Wherefore, when a woman thro’ weakness fancies
a thing indifferent to be sinful, a man must not compel her to act
against her conscience, but with pity and gentleness try to remove
that mistake. “But what if she pretend conscience, when it is but
willfulness?” Then he must wait awhile, and if persuasions avail not,
at length use his authority, and enjoin her to change her obstinacy
into subjection. “But how shall I know, whether she be scrupulous or
stubborn?” I answer, scruple of conscience is grounded on the word of
God, on some text which carries an appearance at least of condemning
the thing in question. But obstinacy is backed with no part of God’s
word. Therefore, if a woman produce some scripture, tho’ perhaps
misinterpreted, for her scruple, she must be tenderly dealt with.
But if she plead conscience, without God’s word, it is probably a
mere pretence. Again, it may be a mistaken conscience, when things
indifferent are deemed either necessary or sinful. But if conscience
be pleaded against doing what God hath plainly commanded, this is
willfulness in error, not weakness of conscience.

♦6. Justice is likewise to be exercised in requiring either the bad or
good carriage of the wife. Bad behaviour may be requited with reproof
or correction. But be sure, not to reprove without a fault. Find not a
fault where no fault is, for fear of making one where there was none.
And observe; a fault reformed is to be accounted no fault. Therefore
it must never be mentioned more. And when a real fault requires
punishment, still the husband must come exceeding slowly to it, and
be very seldom in it, never until he is compelled, because all other
means are ineffectual. For a man to look and behave cooly towards his
wife, to withdraw the testimonies of his love, to cease to trust and
to speak familiarly and chearfully to her, these things I call
punishments. And all things of this kind must be more or less sharp,
as the fault is greater or less, being suited, not to the passion, or
loss, or hurt of the reprover, but to the offence of the reproved. On
the other hand, rewards and commendations should be proportioned to
the nature and degree of her good behaviour: the husband being careful
to feed her virtues, nourish her obedience, and confirm all her
amiable qualities.

    ♦ ‘9’ replaced with ‘6’

7. The next virtue of the husband is wisdom, which gives rules for
the right ordering his authority. It is a main part of this wisdom,
to conform the use of his authority to the disposition of his wife.
There is a great difference in tempers: some are more stiff, some more
pliant; some are easy to be ruled, some the contrary. Some require
more sharpness; others will be better wrought upon by gentleness; and
wisdom teaches to frame all commands, reproofs, rewards, according to
the condition of the person. A soft, tender woman must be dealt with
tenderly; a rough, high-spirited one, with more sternness and severity.
And herein an husband must not follow his own inclinations, but bow
himself to the temper of his wife. As she is more apt to grieve or
rage, to be dejected or careless, so ought a man to shape his words
and behaviour, that he may most heal and least provoke those passions
to which she is most liable. St. _Peter_ points all men to this part
of discretion, when he terms women, _the weaker vessel_; meaning,
subject to more natural infirmities than the man. So much the more
should the husband shew himself a man of knowledge toward her.
Our Saviour’s government may be our example. He well considers the
particular nature of all his members, sees the tempers and infirmities
of each, and deals with them accordingly. And his wisdom appears
in mixing a fit cup of consolation or affliction for every soul.
Every husband must carefully imitate this: for if some women were
reproved so frequently and so sharply as others; they would be quite
disheartened: and if some were to receive so great kindness and such
commendations as others need, they would be utterly destroyed by pride.
Now the art of government must moderate all these things, according to
the nature of the governed. And this art the giver of wisdom will not
deny, to them that earnestly crave it at his hands.

8. Another part of wisdom is, to chuse a fit time and place for every
act of authority. Two rules may be observed with regard to time,
particularly in reproving, that being a thing wherein most caution
should be used, because it is most apt to be taken ill, and because
if it speed well, it does much good, if not, it does much hurt. But
in all other parts of government, the same rules are so needful, that
much mischief will grow by not observing them. Now, as in this case
there are two persons concerned, so a time of reproving or commanding
must be chosen, suitable to both. It must be then used, when he is
fit to use it well, and she to take it well. First then, when a man
himself is quiet, in tune, and free from perturbation, then probably
he will reprove or command well. But when anger boils within, let him
forbear exercising any part of his authority, till he recover his due
temper. Authority cannot be well managed, but by the hand of wisdom.
Therefore undertake not to exercise it, at a time when wisdom is
banished. Go not about such a work, but when thou art thyself, when
thy mind is settled, thy judgment clear. Then shew thy wife her duty,
then tell her of her faults; else she will never mend her faults or
see her duty. Chuse, secondly, the time wherein she is most capable
of receiving information or reproof: when she is chearfully quiet,
well-pleased, free from excessive grief, anger, pain, sickness, which
often untunes the soul, then is a good time to advise or tell her of
a fault. Else her passions will make her as unable to take any thing
well, as his will make him unable to do it well.

9. As to place, commendations or easy commands may be given before
others. But for reproofs, the most secret place is generally the
most convenient. Or if you would have her do or forbear any thing,
which you think will be displeasing to her to hear, tell your mind in
private, and then persuade where you may freely speak all that is fit
to be spoken. “But what if women offend in public, before servants and
children, and strangers?” I answer, in this case, a man may shew his
dislike, that others may not be hurt by the bad example. But he should
delay the proper, home reproof, ’till his wife and he be together
alone.

10. Next to wisdom is mildness, a very necessary virtue in this
society. No woman can endure her husband’s government with comfort,
if gentleness do not temper it. The Lord Jesus is the most gentle and
meek governor in the world: and when he requireth us to take his yoke
upon us, he commends himself as meek and lowly, his _yoke_ as _easy_
and his _burden_ as _light_. This is the best precedent for husbands
to follow, the most worthy copy for them to write after. The apostle
teaches us to be gentle, not only to the good, but also to them that
are froward. Surely then the husband must be gentle toward his wife,
tho’ she be of a froward disposition. Yea, we are commanded to shew
all meekness to all men: much more should each man shew it to his wife.
And that in both the parts of authority, in directing and recompensing.

11. As to the former, the husband should beware of extending the use
of his commanding power too far. Let him use it as seldom, and as
little as possible. It may suffice him to know, that God has given
him the right of directing, in every thing which is not sinful. But
in the exercise of it, he must shew himself of a kind and free nature,
not rigorously taking upon him, to command all he may, but willingly
gratifying his wife, in some, in many, in most things, that she may
with the more chearfulness, be subject to him in others. Let him also
shew mildness, in forbearing hard commandments, as much as possibly
he can. Beware of crossing your wife, without cause, and forcing her
to things against her natural disposition. Enjoin nothing of this
kind, unless there be an absolute necessity. And as to the manner
of commanding, let nothing be imperiously prescribed, but with sweet
kindness and familiar requests. Indeed, if the wife will try for
mastery, and strive to cast off the yoke of obedience, then it is
needful for the husband, with good words, to stand for his authority,
even somewhat stifly and peremptorily professing, that he will have
his will in things lawful. But this course should be rarely taken, and
that only in matters of importance. In other cases it is better mildly
to wish this or that, than haughtily to enjoin it.

12. But mildness is never so needful as in reproving, both with regard
to the matter and the manner of it. For the matter; find not fault
with every foible; chide not for every infirmity. What is not of a
gross nature, or done wilfully, may be passed over either with none,
or half a word. The love which passes by weaknesses is necessary
toward strangers; much more with those who are so nearly united. *Be
not therefore extreme or rigorous, but be affected toward thy wife, as
a tender mother toward her child. Pray to God against all her faults;
see and commend all her virtues: but petty wants and little ordinary
weaknesses, seldom take notice of, or reprove. Let her perceive,
that thou dost, but wilt not know them. And thy unwillingness to
see and reprove, will make her, if she has any spark of generosity,
more willing to see and reform. But an ever-lowering and ever-chiding
husband will make his wife worse than she would otherwise be. For the
manner of reproving, even when it is most needful, it should be very
gentle. The words and gestures used to press the fault, should be mild
and amiable, breathing out love and pity at once. No patient is so
desirous of health, that he will drink a potion scalding hot. So it is
with reproof: if it, as it were, scald the ear with bitter upbraiding,
with railing words, and a fiery look, it will never gain passage to
the heart. Compassion, kindness, declaring your sorrow for her fault,
desire of her good, and care for her amendment, these incline the
will to accept of an admonition, and help the effect of it. I am
not against the wholesome earnestness of reproving; but this may be
without bitterness or fierceness. An admonition is then healthfully
sharp and earnest, when a man with much plainness of speech and
strength of reason lays open the greatness and danger of the
sin, and vehemently enforces them on the sinner’s conscience: but
compassionately still, with a declaration of more sorrow than anger,
of more grief for her fault and danger, than displeasure against her
person.




                              CHAP. VI.

                  _Of the_ Wife’_s peculiar_ Duties.


1. THE special duties of a wife may be reduced to two heads, To know
herself the inferior, and to behave as such. First, She must know
herself the inferior; she must be thoroughly convinced, that she is
not her husband’s equal, without which there can be no content, either
in her heart, or in her house. Where the woman counts herself equal
with her husband, (much more, if she count herself better) the root of
all good carriage is withered, the fountain thereof dried up. Whoever
therefore would be a good wife, let this sink into her inmost soul,
“My husband is my superior, my better: he has the right to rule over
me. God has given it him, and I will not strive against God. He is
my superior, my better.” Unless she has learnt this lesson perfectly,
unless she has it at her fingers ends, if her very heart does not
thoroughly agree thereto, there will be nothing between them but
wrangling, repining, striving: so that their life will be little else
than a continual battle, a trying for masteries. Let us grant, you
have more wit and understanding than him, more readiness of speech,
more skill in business. Yet consider; your servant may exceed you
in all these, as much as you do him. And yet you would be loath that
your servant should claim an equality either with him or you. Know
then, a man may be superior in place to him, who is his superior in
gifts: and know likewise, thou dost abuse the gifts of God, if thence
thou infringest thy husband’s superiority. Wherefore, with all thy
understanding, understand this, that God has made him thy governor and
ruler, and thee his inferior, to be ruled by him, and to submit to him
in all things. Though he be of meaner birth and smaller capacity, tho’
he had no wealth or name before thou didst marry him, yet from that
hour the case is changed, and he is no longer beneath thee, but above
thee. Set it down therefore as a conclusion never to be called in
question. “My husband is my superior.”

2. The wife knowing herself the inferior, must, secondly, behave as
such, by reverence and subjection to her husband. First, By reverence.
She owes this to her husband, as much as the children or servants do
to her: yea, as they do to him; only hers is sweetened with more love
and familiarity. She is no less bound to _reverence her husband_, than
are the rest of the family. This alone is the difference; she may be
more familiar, not more rude, as being more dear, not less subject
than they.

3. And this reverence must be both inward and outward. First, she
must have an inward, dutiful respect for her husband. She must regard
him as God’s deputy, not looking to his person but his place, not
thinking so much, what he is, as whose officer. So the apostle, _Let
the wife see that she reverence her husband_. Of all things, let her
not fail in this. He here prescribes such a loving, not slavish, fear,
as stands with the closest union of heart. And from this fear, she
abhors and shuns, as the greatest evil which can befal her, next
to the breaking the commandments of God, to displease or offend her
husband. We stand in due awe of God, when we loath the breach of
his commandments, as the greatest of all evils. And the wife duly
stands in awe of her husband, when next to that evil, she shuns the
disobeying or grieving him, who is above her, next to God. I know many
♦women care as little for their husbands, as their husbands do for
them. But if thou wilt ever please God, take much pains with thy heart,
to make it stand in awe of thy husband. As a wife grows in this, so
may she look to get the better of all her other infirmities: as she
is careless herein, so shall she be pestered with various other evils.
“But how shall she bring her heart to this?” By looking thro’ her
husband to God the author of marriage, and putting herself often in
mind, not of his deserts, but of God’s ordinance. The husband is to
the wife _the image and glory of_ God: the power that is given to him
is God’s originally, and his by God’s appointment. Look not therefore
on the qualities of thy husband, but upon his place. If thou despisest
him, the contempt redounds upon God, who hath ordained him to be thy
head. If therefore thy heart be seasoned with the fear of God, thou
wilt fear thy husband also.

    ♦ ‘woman’ replaced with ‘women’

4. And this inward will produce outward reverence, both in her words
and actions. Her words are either to himself, of him behind his back,
or to others before him. And, 1. Her words to himself should neither
be sharp, sullen, passionate, not rude, careless or contemptuous: such
as shew neither anger, nor neglect, but all lowliness and quietness
of affection. What kind of words would you dislike from a servant or
child? Those must you not give your husband. For the same duty of fear
is in the same words, and with the same plainness enjoined to thee
that is to them. Indeed a wife, as I observed before, may be more
familiar: yet there is an excess of familiarity which is blame-worthy.
Why should a woman be so over-bold as to call her husband, _Tom, Dick,
Ned_? Could she speak otherwise to her child or servant? Certainly
those speeches of hers which are most familiar should still have a
print of reverence upon them.

5. Her words also to others in his presence should be such as witness
a due reverence to him: In his company she should be more cautious
of her behaviour to any, than otherwise she need to be. Her words to
children and servants in his sight, ought not to be loud or snappish.
If she perceive a fault in them, she should remember her better stands
by, and therefore not speak, but upon necessity, and then utter the
reproof in a more still and mild manner, than she might have done in
his absence. You allow not your children or servants to be loud before
you. And will you be so before your husband!

6. A wife’s words likewise concerning her husband behind his back,
should be dutiful and respectful. She must not talk of him with a kind
of carelessness, much less with reproachful terms. Hence the apostle
recommends the example of _Sarah_: who when she but thought of her
husband, in the absence of all company, (_Gen._ xviii. 12.) reverently
intitled him, _My Lord_. Who would bear a child speaking against his
father behind his back? And shall it be thought sufferable in a wife?
He that allows not an evil thought of the prince, will not allow evil
speeches of the husband.

7. Yea, the very gestures and countenance of a wife, as well as her
words, should be mixt with reverence. Both good and bad tempers have
more ways of uttering themselves than by the tongue. _Solomon_ speaks
of an _eye that despiseth his mother_: so the eye of a wife may be a
despising eye and her gestures may proclaim contempt, tho’ her tongue
be altogether silent. But rude and contemptuous behaviour are no less
uncomely than disrespectful words. Wherefore, if you condemn these in
your children toward yourself, allow them not in yourself toward your
husband.

8. The second duty, subjection, implies obedience to his commands,
and submission to his reproofs. The former is expresly enjoined in
those words, _Let the wife be subject to her husband in all things_.
And indeed, if she refuse it to him, how can she require it of the
children and servants? For it is due to her only as his deputy, and
a substitute under him. “But how far must she be subject to him?” The
apostle tells us, _In all things, in the_ Lord. Obedience, you see,
must be universal: only so that it may be _in the_ Lord. In every
thing wherein obedience to him would not prove rebellion against
her Maker, she is bound to obey, without any farther question. An
_English_ subject is not bound to obey the King in any thing but
what some law enjoins. His will is no law, neither does it bind the
conscience of his subject. But the husband’s will is a law to his wife,
and binds her conscience in all things indifferent. Nor does even
this suffice, unless she obey readily, quietly, chearfully, without
brawling, contending, sourness.

9. The latter, submission to his reproofs, is also plainly required in
these words, _As the church is subject to_ Christ, _so must the wives
to their own husbands in every thing_. Now, bearing his reproofs is
doubtless a necessary part of the church’s subjection to Christ. Of
consequence it is a necessary part of the wife’s subjection to her
husband.




                              CHAP. VII.

                  _Some_ Application _of the Whole_.


1. *AND first, this yields a good instruction to young, unmarried
people; not to rush unadvisedly into this state. A thing of so
difficult a nature, should not be hastily undertaken. If they get not
first their hearts full of grace, and their heads full of wisdom, they
will find their hands full of work, an house full of trouble, and a
life full of woe. Dost thou desire to be married? Unless thou wouldst
meet with gall instead of honey, see what wisdom, what patience, what
grace fit to govern, or fit to obey, thou findest in thyself. Get
these against thou comest to use them, or marriage will yield thee
small contentment. Vain youths will marry, before they have any power
to practise, any understanding to know their duties. But he that leaps
over a broad ditch with a short staff, will fall into the midst: and
he that enters into marriage without great grace, shall fall into
disquietude and vexation. Let unmarried people think of this, and be
wise before pain teaches them wisdom.

2. Secondly, I advise all married persons to be well acquainted with
these duties, and to mark their own failings therein. Let the wife
know her’s, the husband his, and both, the common duties. I desire
they would each observe their own, and not each the other’s failings.
Indeed it may be feared, many will be the worse for what has been said,
because they heard amiss. The husband may perhaps ring his wife a peal
concerning her duty, and tell her, how her faults were ript up; and
yet never consider his own. The wife may tell him of his faults, when
she has little or nothing to say of herself. Thus both will be worse,
while they seek to upbraid each other, and not each to amend one.
Unwise man! Unwise woman! Why hast thou not the greatest care, to save
thy own soul? Couldst thou mark what was good for another’s disease,
and not what was good for thy own? Brethren, sisters, let this be
altered in us. If thou be an husband, have more care to know that,
for which thy own soul must answer, than what lies to the account of
another. So thou that art a wife; and woe to that man or woman, who
sees not more failings in him or herself than in the yoke-fellow. If
thy heart were right, thy own sins would be more grievous, and thy
yoke-fellows less. Learn, therefore, to pass by their failings more
easily, and be more censorious toward thy own. Learn to judge thyself.
*He never yet learned to work well at any work, that would cast his
eyes more upon his neighbour’s fingers, than upon his own. But oh!
how common is this? Every man would be a good husband, if his wife,
were not so bad! And she would be a good wife, if her husband were
tolerable. All the accusations, all the judgings are darted at each
other: but what folly is this? Idle man or woman, it is not the
requiring duty from another, but the performing what belongs to
thyself, that will make thee a Christian; that will comfort thee in
temptation, rejoice thee in death, and stand for thee in judgment.

3. In a word. Know thy own duty, mark thy own failings, and thou wilt
not quarrel with thy yoke-fellow. There is no better means of peace,
than for every one to learn his own work, and labour to mend his own
faults. Have you then both been to blame? Repent both, and strain not
courtesy which shall begin. Hast thou been a foolish, passionate, or
an unkind husband? Not regarding thy wife’s good? Cry not, “She has
been thus and thus;” but repent of thy own sin. Seriously confess it
to God. Beseech him to make thee a better husband, that she may be a
better wife. Hast thou been a brawling, disobedient, or discontented
wife? Ask thy heart before God, and dissemble not. If so, clamour not
against thy husband, exclaim not against his passion or unkindness;
but condemn thyself, and call upon God, to make thee reverence and
obey thy husband, as a commander under him. Intreat him to make thee
a better wife, that he may be a better husband. Let each mend one, I
mean himself, and contention will cease. Pray each for yourself first,
then for the other: labour to see wherein you yourself have offended:
and be not skilful to cast the fault upon another, but to cast it out
of yourself. So shall your loves be sure, your lives comfortable, your
deaths happy, and your memories blessed for ever.

4. Before I conclude, it may not be improper to sum up the duty of
married persons, as parents, and as masters. Their duty as parents
respects either the temporal or the spiritual good of their children.
With regard to the former, you owe them protection and provision of
necessaries, according to that rank and degree, wherein the wisdom
of God has placed you. You are carefully to protect your children,
from all the evils and dangers, to which infancy, childhood and youth
are exposed. You are also to nourish and sustain them; not only to
provide for them for the present, but to take care for their future
subsistence. If you have not a patrimony to leave them, it behoves
you to leave them an art or calling, whereby thro’ diligence, with
the blessing of God, they may procure food convenient for them. *In
the choice of this calling, you should chiefly have an eye to their
general Christian calling, and consider not so much what will conduce
most to their temporal profit or honour, as what will most effectually
advance their spiritual and eternal interest. This is a weighty point:
it were well if all parents would deeply lay it to heart. It should
next be considered, whether the calling proposed be suitable to their
genius and inclination: which are to be consulted on this head, only
not as much as their eternal welfare.

5. With regard to their spiritual good, your first labour of love
is, to present them to God in baptism. You are then to inure them to
good, to instruct and admonish them, to educate them in the knowledge
and fear of God, to season their minds as early as possible with the
fundamental truths of religion, and in such a manner as is best suited
to their capacity, to train them up in all holiness. Every instruction
should be seconded by example. Let them continually see, as well
as hear, how they ought to walk acceptably, and to please God. Be
peculiarly careful to set before your children the copies and patterns
of the virtues which you teach. And let them neither see nor hear any
thing from you, which you would not desire to have copied by them.
Even an Heathen, and none of the most virtuous, could say,

                _Maxima debetur pueris reverentia._

We ought to reverence and stand in awe of children that nothing may
be spoken or done in their sight, which may taint their tender minds.
They are prone to imitate any; but more especially those who are so
nearly related to them. Which undoubtedly they will be most ready to
do, when example strikes in with their natural propensity to evil.

6. If neither good examples nor instructions will prevail, then
correction becomes a duty. And this should first be given in words,
before you proceed to severer methods: yet not in railing, or foul or
bitter language, but in calm and sober reproof. If that fail too, then
use the rod. But whenever this correction is given, let it be with
all the expressions of love and concern, which the nature of the thing
will admit. Let it be timely, before ill habits are contracted, at
least, before they have time to take root. And let it be moderate, not
exceeding the quality of the fault, or the tenderness of the child.
Immoderate, or ill-natured and passionate correction, is so far from
profiting children, that it very frequently frets and sharpens their
spirits, and makes them more stubborn and untractable. If they are
of a softer temper, it frights and dispirits them. This is also
the natural effect, of a sour, harsh, unkind behaviour. Hence those
solemn cautions of the apostle, _Fathers, provoke not your children to
wrath_, (Eph. vi. 4.) Avoid whatever tends thereto. Use no demeanor,
no actions or words, or way of speaking, which has such a tendency.
And again, _Fathers provoke not your children to anger, lest they be
discouraged_, Col. iii. 21. It is a different word from that used in
the former text, Μὴ ἐρεθιζετε Do not purposely fret or teize them:
lest you should dishearten them too much, lest you should destroy
their courage and vigour of mind, and make them of a faint, fearful,
dastardly spirit. The direction doubtless belongs to both the parents,
but is more immediately addrest to _fathers_, as they are generally
of rougher and harsher spirits than the mothers, and not so much
restrained by natural fondness. Lastly, correction must not be given
in anger: if it be, it will lose its effect on the child, who will
think he is corrected, not because he has done a fault, but because
the parent is angry.

7. These directions chiefly relate to young children. But even after
they are grown up, you are still engaged, to watch over their souls,
to observe how they practise the precepts, which have been inculcated
upon them from time to time, and to exhort, encourage, and reprove
them accordingly. You are also to bless them, first by your prayers.
Parents are under a peculiar obligation, by daily and earnest prayer
to commend their children to God’s protection and blessing. You are,
secondly, to bless them by your piety. See that you be such persons
in all holiness of conversation, that from you the blessing of God may
descend upon your posterity.

8. As masters, you are, 1. To be just to your servants, whether
apprentices, journeymen, or houshold servants, in faithfully and
exactly performing the conditions on which they engaged to serve
you: particularly with regard to food, and the other necessaries or
conveniences of life. You are, 2. To admonish and reprove them for
their faults, more especially faults against God. But let this be done
with all tenderness and mildness; _forbearing_ not only bitter and
opprobious language, but even _threatening, knowing that your master
is in heaven, and that there is no respect of persons with him_. You
are, 3. To set a good example to your servants; otherwise reproving
will be but lost labour. It is your duty, 4. To provide them with all
means of necessary instruction, and to allow them sufficient time to
worship God, in private as well as in public. You are, 5. To beware
that you give them only reasonable and moderate commands, that you do
not make their service toilsome to them, by laying on them greater
burdens than they can bear, or greater than you would impose, or they
would bear, if they were not of the houshold of faith. Lastly, You
are to encourage them in well-doing, by using them with that kindness,
which their faithfulness, diligence, and piety deserve: in all your
dealings with them remembring, you are to give an account to _your
master_ of the usage of your meanest servant.




                      Directions _to_ Children.


1. CHILDREN, says the apostle writing to the _Ephesians_, (chap. vi.
ver. 1.) _Obey your parents in the_ Lord. To which he adds, _Honour
thy father and mother, which is the first commandment with promise_,
(with a particular promise annexed; for the promise annexed to the
second commandment, does not belong to the keeping that command in
particular, but the whole law:) _that it may be well with thee, and
thou mayst live long upon the earth_. And this promise is by no means
to be confined to the time of the Jewish dispensation. On the contrary,
there are not wanting many instances, even in later times, of persons
eminently dutiful to their parents, who have been rewarded with
eminent health and prosperity. Tho’ still it is acknowledged, that
this promise, as most others, may be understood under the Christian
dispensation, in a spiritual and more exalted sense.

2. But how are children to _honour their fathers and mothers_? First,
by reverencing them. This is an unquestionable duty, manifestly
contained in the very term _honour_. And this inward reverence is to
appear, in the whole outward behaviour. It is to be expressed both in
their speeches and gestures, in their words and actions. Their speech
should always testify _honour_, giving them the most respectful titles
which their condition will bear. Likewise (unless on some peculiar
occasions) your words before them should be few. For talkativeness
before any person, has the appearance of disrespect. You should also
carry yourself with all lowliness and modesty, while in the presence
of your parents: so that your whole carriage may be the natural
expression of the respect lodged in your hearts.

3. This reverence is not to be with-held, on account of either their
supposed or real infirmities. For be the faults of the parents ever
so great, this gives the children no authority to despise them: seeing
whatever their tempers or their behaviour be, they are your parents
still. Neither are you to take any step which might cause others to
despise them. You cannot therefore mention their faults to others,
without bringing guilt upon your own soul. You cannot mention them
behind their back, and be guiltless. It is your part to conceal all
their faults and infirmities, to the uttermost of your power. Be not
like _Ham_, who bewrayed his father’s nakedness, and was cursed of
God to his latest posterity. Rather imitate the piety of _Japhet_ and
_Shem_: cover with all care whatever you disapprove of in a parent.
Hide it from every one else, and, if it were possible, even from
yourself.

4. A second duty which children owe to their parents is love. We are
to bear them a deep, real kindness, an earnest, tender good-will,
heartily desiring all manner of good to them, and abhorring to speak
or do any thing, which might give them uneasiness. This will appear no
more than common gratitude, if we remember, what our parents have done
for us. That they were the instruments not only of bringing us into
the world, but also of sustaining us after: and certainly they that
weigh the cares and fears which attend the bringing up of a child,
will judge the love of the child to be but a moderate return for
them. This love is to be exprest several ways. First, in all kindness
of behaviour, carrying ourselves, not barely with awe and respect,
but with tenderness and affection. It is to be exprest, secondly,
in praying for them. The debt which a child owes to a parent, is
so inconceivably great, that he can never hope, fully to discharge
it himself. He is therefore to seek the assistance of God, and
continually to beg him that has all power in heaven and earth, to
return whatever good his parents have done him, seven-fold into their
own bosom.

5. A third duty which children owe to their parents is obedience. As
this is plainly implied in the fifth commandment, so it is expresly
enjoined by the apostle: _Children, obey your parents in the_ Lord.
(Eph. vi. 1.) And again, _Children, obey your parents in all things;
for this is well-pleasing to the_ Lord. (Col. iii. 20.) We owe them
obedience _in all things_, unless where their commands are contrary to
the commands of God. In every thing of an indifferent nature, whatever
they enjoin, we are to do. The case is the same with regard to the
authority of parents over their children, as with regard to that of
husbands over their wives. The will of your parent is a law to you, as
soon as it is signified to you. You are to comply with it immediately,
not for wrath, not only to avoid this, but also for conscience sake.
Such is the will of God concerning you: so high is the authority which
he hath entrusted them with.

6. And yet we are to obey them only _in the_ Lord: only so far as
consists with his authority over us. Therefore, if any of their
commands are contrary to the commands of God, in that case our duty
to God must be preferred. If therefore any parent should be so wicked
as to require his child to steal, to lie, or to do any thing unlawful,
the child offends not against his duty, tho’ he disobey that command.
Nay, he must disobey; otherwise he offends against an higher duty,
even that which every child of man owes to his Father which is in
heaven. Yet when it is necessary to refuse obedience, it should be
done in so modest and respectful a manner, that it may plainly appear,
not stubbornness but conscience is the ground of that refusal. Let
this appear likewise by your ready and chearful compliance with all
their lawful commands: as well knowing, that wherever the command of
a parent is not contrary to any command of God, there the child is in
conscience bound to obey, whether in a weightier or lighter matter.

7. *Nothing therefore but the unlawfulness of their command, can
excuse the disobeying our parents. If any instance of disobedience
is more inexcusable than others, it is the marrying against, or even
without their consent. Indeed, parents have so peculiar a right to
their children, that to give themselves away without their allowance,
is not only an high act of disobedience, but of flagrant injustice.
And hence we see, that among God’s antient people, if a young woman
had even _made a vow_, she was not suffered to perform it, without
the consent of the parent, (_Numb._ xxx. 5.) Indeed children ought to
have a negative voice, and not be compelled to marry without their own
consent. But if they marry without the consent of their parents, let
them expect no blessing from God.

8. A fourth duty which children owe to their parents, is the assisting
them in their wants, of what kind soever they be, whether sickness or
weakness of body, decay of understanding, or lowness of estate. In all
these the child is bound to assist them, according to his ability. For
the two former, weakness of body and infirmity of mind, none can doubt
of the duty, when they remember how every child did in his infancy
receive the same benefits from his parents. The child had then no
strength to support, no understanding to guide itself. But the care
of the parent supplied both these: and therefore in common gratitude,
when either of these becomes the parent’s case, the child is to
perform the same office again. Likewise, as to the relieving their
poverty, it is but just to sustain thy parents, who formerly sustained
thee. And that this is also implied in _honouring our father and
mother_, our Lord himself teaches. For when he accuses the Pharisees
of _rejecting the commandment of_ God, _that they might cleave to
their own traditions_, he instances in this particular, concerning the
relieving of parents. Hence it is manifest, this is a part of the duty,
which is enjoined in the fifth commandment. And such a duty it is,
that no pretence whatever can release us from the performance of it.
This should be carefully observed. No fault of the parent can acquit a
child of this duty. For as St. _Peter_ tells servants, that they must
_be subject_, out of conscience toward God, not only to _good and
gentle_ masters, _but also to the froward_: so certainly it concerns
children, to perform every instance of filial duty, not only to kind
and virtuous parents, but to the harshest and wickedest. For tho’
gratitude to a kind and tender parent, be a forcible motive to make a
child pay his duty, yet that is not the principal, and much less the
only ground for it. This is laid in the authority of God, who commands
us to honour our parents. And therefore, were we to suppose a parent
to have been so unnatural, as never to have done any thing to oblige
a child, yet notwithstanding this, the commandment of God would remain
in its full force: and what is prescribed therein we are bound to
perform, whether the tie of gratitude be added or no.




                      Directions _to_ Servants.


1. ST. _Paul_ confirms his directions to _masters_ by that
consideration, that they also _have a master in heaven, and there is
no respect of persons with him_. He regards no man’s outward condition:
the poor and the rich are the same to him, and the servant is as his
master. And the apostle, it seems, had learned of him, to be _without
respect of persons_. For he has the same care for servants as for
their masters, and is as large in his advices to them: nay, much more
so; probably considering, that they had fewer advantages of education,
and fewer opportunities of instruction. He is therefore remarkably
particular in his directions to these, which are given at large in
the epistle to the _Ephesians_, and to the _Colossians_. He gives them
farther directions in the first epistle to _Timothy_, and again in
the epistle to _Titus_. If we add hereto the advices given them by
St. _Peter_, we shall have a full account of the duties of Christian
servants.

2. The great duty required of all servants is _subjection_ or
_obedience_ to their masters. So St. _Peter_ (_1 Pet._ ii. 18.)
_Servants be subject to your masters_; St. _Paul_, _exhort servants to
be subject to their own masters_: and again, both to the _Ephesians_
and _Colossians_, (_Eph._ vi. 5. _Col._ iii. 22.) _Servants, obey your
masters after the flesh_. Allowing that these are your masters only
in a qualified sense, and only during this state of flesh and blood;
allowing you have but one proper, absolute master, to whom you owe
unlimited subjection: yet to these also, as being invested with a part
of his power, you owe a limited obedience and subjection.

3. Indeed this obedience varies according to the various kinds of
service wherein servants are connected with their masters. The sorts
of servants most common among us are, 1. _Labourers_, or workmen, with
whom we agree by the day, to do such work at such a price, and who
accordingly _serve_ us during that time: 2. _Journeymen_, whom we
agree with for a longer space, to assist us in our calling, on such
conditions: 3. _Houshold servants_, who usually contract by the year,
to perform, on the considerations specified, either some particular
branch of houshold work, or (if there be only one servant) all manner
of work whatever from time to time is needful to be done in the family.
4. _Apprentices_, who are engaged for several years, chiefly to serve
their masters in their particular trade or calling. Now, how far are
all or any of these obliged in conscience, to _obey and be subject to
their own masters_?

4. The apostle answers. During the time agreed, _obey your masters
after the flesh in all things_: that is, in all things specified
in that agreement which was made when you entered into service. So
a _labourer_ or _workman_ is, during his short service, to follow
the direction of him that hired him. A _journeyman_ is to do the
same, with regard to that work which he agreed to perform. _Domestic
servants_ (to whom particularly St. _Peter_ speaks; for this is
the proper meaning of οἱ οἰκέται) are obliged to obey their master
or mistress, either in one branch of houshold-business, if they
contracted for this, or otherways with respect to the whole work of
the house: doing every thing at such times and in such a manner, as is
appointed by their superior. And an apprentice is to obey, according
to the terms of his indenture, wherein it is usually agreed, by his
parents or friends, in what kind of service he shall be employed,
according to the discretion of his master.

5. To sum up this. This first¹ part of a servant’s obedience, is, to
forbear doing things of his own head, without or against the consent
of his master: the reason whereof is plain. During the time of his
service, he is not his own; neither ought the things he does, to be
for himself. Both his person and his actions are all his masters; and
the will of his master is his rule. In particular, servants, 1. may
not go whither they will, but only where they are ordered, or at least,
permitted to go. 2. They ought not to do their own business. When
_Jacob_ was _Laban_’s servant, tho’ he had flocks of his own, yet he
fed his master’s flocks, and committed his own to his sons, _Gen._ xxx.
35, 36. 3. They are not to do what business they please themselves,
but what is allotted them by their master. 4. They ought not to marry,
while the time of their service lasts, without the consent of their
master. 5. They may not before their covenanted time expires, go away
from their master.

  ¹ Several of the following paragraphs are partly extracted from
    Mr. Gouge on domestic duties.

6. The second part of a servant’s obedience is, to do whatever his
master commands. To _look to the hand of his master_, (as _David_
speaks) ready to execute any thing he would have done. He is also
to obey, by hearkening to his instructions, not only in matters of
his secular calling, but likewise in the things of God, in whatever
concerns his Christian calling.

7. The manner wherein this obedience is to be performed, is largely
declared by both the apostles. _Obey your masters_, saith St. _Paul_,
_with fear and trembling_. This indeed is not to be taken literally:
it is a proverbial expression, denoting the utmost care, watchfulness,
and diligence. Do it _fearing_ God; from a principle of loving fear,
a fear of offending your master who is in heaven. _Be subject to
your masters with all fear_, saith St. _Peter_, with earnest, tender
reverence. With a constant fear, either of injuring, grieving or
displeasing them, by any part of your behaviour.

8. So proper is this fear of his master in a servant, that the want
of it is a denial of his master’s place and power. This God intimates
in that expostulation (_Mal._ i. 6.) _If I be a master, where is my
fear?_ That is, you plainly shew, you do not account me your master,
because there is no fear of me in your heart. But wherever it is, it
will draw servants on to perform all duty. And the more it abounds,
the more desire and endeavour there will be to do all things well.

9. An especial means to create and preserve this fear is, a due
consideration of the ground of their master’s place and power: which
is, the appointment of God: God has placed them in his stead, and
in part given them his power. They are the deputies and ministers of
God. And therefore in scripture, the title _lord_, is after a peculiar
manner, given them. There can therefore be no excuse for despising
them, tho’ they should be poor, mean, weak, or aged. The poorest
and weakest have the same place and authority, which the richest and
strongest have. All bear the image of God: therefore, to despise them
shews, that you regard not God’s image at all.

10. This fear may be shewn either in speech or behaviour: in the
former, 1. By sparing to speak in the presence of their master,
without some necessary cause: 2. By forbearing to reply, when they
observe their masters unwilling they should speak any more: 3. By
attending to what their masters speak: shewing such a respect to them,
as _Samuel_ did to God, when he said, _speak; for thy servant heareth_.
When they have just occasion to speak, this fear may be shewn, 1. By
giving proper titles to their masters, 2. By not talking more than the
occasion requires, 3. By speaking in a meek and humble manner, 4. By
chusing a fit season, both when he is at leisure to hear, and when his
mind is calm, not troubled with any passion, and lastly, by giving a
present and ready answer, to whatever their master says to them.

11. Servants should shew a due fear of their masters in their
behaviour, 1. By such dutiful and submissive obeisance, as becomes
their sex and place, according to the custom of the country and
place where they are, when they have occasion to come to them, to
go from them, or to receive any charge of them. 2. By _standing_ in
his master’s presence. 3. By uncovering their heads before him, and
4. Sobriety and modesty both in countenance and in the whole carriage.
And from the same principle you should endeavour _to please them well
in all things_, (_Tit._ ii. 9.) Do every thing in the most obliging
manner. If it be possible, please them in every thing: study to give
them satisfaction in whatever you do. Do it in the way which they
like best: labour that your whole service, your whole behaviour may be
acceptable to them. And do all this _with good will_, (_Eph._ vi. 7.)
with cordial benevolence, with love to them, springing from love to
God: with an earnest desire to make their lives as easy and happy and
comfortable as you can.

12. Yet all this time, beware that you do not act _as men-pleasers_,
as having no further design than to please men, to gain their
approbation or esteem, to be well-thought of and well-spoken of; or
to acquire any temporal advantage which may result from their favour
or good-will. Serve _not with eye-service_, (a certain consequence
of serving as men-pleasers) but to do just the same in the absence of
your master, as you do when under his eye. Let his absence or presence
make no difference in your industry and activity. You may examine
yourself by this rule: there is no surer guard against self-deceit.
Do I labour in the very same manner at other times, as when my master
is looking on? If I do not, I am no better than a _man-pleaser_, I am
a vile eye-servant in the sight of God.

13. An infallible way of avoiding this, is to obey them with
_singleness of heart_, that is, without any temporal motive, with a
single eye, with the one view of pleasing God. The apostle insists
upon this over and over, and that in the strongest manner. _Obey your
masters in the singleness of your heart as unto_ Christ, _not with
eye-service, but as the servants of_ Christ, _doing service unto the_
Lord, _not unto men_. And again, _servants obey your masters in all
things, with singleness of heart; and whatsoever ye do, do it as unto
the_ Lord, _not unto men. For_ in whatsoever you do with a single eye,
_ye serve the_ Lord, Christ. Whatsoever is thus done to any earthly
master, he accounts done unto himself. And for all this he will say to
you in that day, _Well done, good and faithful servants: inasmuch as
ye have done it to one of these_, for my sake, _ye have done it unto
me_.

14. Therefore in all things which ye do for your masters, consider
yourselves as _doing the will of_ God. The will of your master is the
will of God to you. His voice is, as it were, the voice of God. His
work is to you the work of God, whom you obey in obeying him. But in
all this, there is one restriction to be observed: masters, as well
as parents, are to be obeyed only _in the_ Lord: only so far as their
commands are not contrary to the commands of God. If ever this should
be the case, you cannot obey them: you must obey God rather than man.
You must humbly and respectfully declare, that in all things else
you are ready to obey: but that this you apprehend to be contrary to
the plain word of God, and therefore you dare not do it. Neither may
you refrain from obeying a plain command of God, because your master
forbids you so to do. You must at some times, (if not so often as you
otherwise would) hear the word of God, join in public prayer, attend
the table of the Lord, and call upon him in private. And if any master
violently hinder you from so doing, you should at all hazards quit his
service as soon as possible. Let no gain, no temporal consideration
whatever, induce you to continue therein. For _what is a man profited,
if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul_?

15. *But _whatsoever ye do_, that is not contrary to the commands of
God, _do it heartily_, ἐκ ψυχῆς _from your soul_, your whole soul,
from the bottom of your heart. This naturally results from the _doing
it, as unto the_ Lord, and is therefore twice mentioned in the same
sentence with it. Whatsoever you do, do it with your might, do it as
quick as you can, and as well as you can. Do it at least as well as
you would do, if it were for yourself. If you are hired by the day,
do as much work in each day as you can. The custom of the trade is
nothing to you, nor the example of those that work with you. Do as
much to-day as you can without hurting yourself, or disabling you from
doing the same to-morrow: and just as much as you would, if it were
your own work, or if you were to be paid by the piece. Do the same
thing, if you are an houshold-servant; putting forth all your strength,
ridding away all the business that you can, and using therein all the
understanding which God has given you, in order to do every thing in
the most excellent manner, whereof you are capable.

16. These general directions, all servants are to observe, of
conscience toward God, and that whether their masters be good or bad,
Heathens, (in fact, if not in name) or Christians. For the character
of the master, while he is such, does not vacate the duty of the
servant. Suppose they are mere Heathens, men that neither love nor
fear, nor serve God, (a very possible case even in what we call a
Christian country) still _let as many servants as are under the yoke_
(for the service of these is a _yoke_ indeed) _count their own masters
worthy of all honour¹_. Tho’ they are unbelieving and unholy, yet in
consideration of the place which God has assigned them, for his sake,
and in obedience to his appointment, _count them worthy of all_ the
_honour_ above described. Pay them all the reverence in your heart,
and shew them all that outward respect, both in word and action,
_that the name of_ God _and his doctrine be not blasphemed_ by those
ungodly men, who would not fail to lay the blame of your neglect, on
the religion which you profess. On the other hand, _as many as have
faithful masters_, real believers in Christ, let not this administer
any pretence, for less exactness in their duty. _Let them not despise
them, because they are brethren._ Let them not on this account abate
any thing of the inward reverence they owe, or of their outward
respect and obedience. _But rather do them service_, observe the
preceding directions with regard to them, more earnestly and exactly,
_because they are faithful and beloved, partakers of the benefit_:
enjoying the same communion with God on earth, and looking for the
same inheritance in heaven.

  ¹ 1 Tim. vi. 1.

17. But besides these general ones, there are several particular
directions given by the apostle to all Christian servants. As 1. _Be
honest, not purloining_, (Tit. ii. 10.) not _secreting_, or privately
_keeping back_ any thing for yourself: not taking, using, disposing,
or giving away the least thing belonging to thy master, without his
leave, without his knowledge and consent first asked and obtained.
To do otherwise is no better than plain theft, and cuts off all the
pretensions to honesty. Equally dishonest it is to hurt or waste any
thing, or to let it be lost thro’ their carelessness or negligence.
Whatever therefore your fellow-servants do, keep yourself pure: and
let not the custom of the world, but the word of God be the rule of
all your actions.

18. Secondly, _Be true_, not barely, tell no willful lie, either to
your master or your fellow-servants, but let _all your conversation
be in simplicity, and godly sincerity_. Even if you are overtaken
in a fault, use no deceit, no equivocating or prevarication to hide
it, or to excuse either yourself or any of your fellow-servants, or
prevent anger that may ensue. Herein also St. _Peter_ observes, Christ
_left you an example, that you might tread in his steps. He_ not
only _did_, committed, _no sin, but there was no guile found in his
mouth_. Let there be none found in yours: in spite of all temptations
to the contrary, _speak the truth from your heart_, and whatever
inconveniences spring herefrom, God will turn them all into blessings.

♦19. Thirdly, _Be faithful_: as St. _Paul_ expresses it, _shew all
good fidelity_, Tit. ii. 10. This is _good_, beautiful, honourable
in all men. It ennobles the lowest station, and causes it to shine in
the eyes of God and man. Be faithful, 1. With regard to your master’s
goods. Preserving, yea, and increasing them to the uttermost of your
power. Whatever is committed to your trust, whether within doors
or without, so carefully preserve, that it be not lost, spoiled, or
impaired under your hands. If you see any damage done to your goods,
redress it yourself, if you can: if you can’t immediately make it
known to your master, that he may find means of redressing it. And not
only preserve, but do all that in you lies, to increase your master’s
goods. The talents which were committed to the faithful servants,
were by their industry increased to as many more. So that it is not
sufficient, not to lessen your master’s substance, but you should
labour to better it. Study his interest as you would your own, and
promote it by all possible means. Regard not your pleasure, your ease,
nor any thing but your conscience, in comparison of it. Be faithful,
2. With regard to his reputation. Conceal his faults and infirmities
as far as possible. Some of these you can hardly avoid observing,
being continually under his roof. But whatever you observe of this
kind, keep it in your own breast. Let it go no farther; reveal it not
to strangers, no, nor even to your fellow-servants. Never make either
his supposed or real failings, the subject of your discourse. Beware
you do not wound him behind his back, nor suffer others to do it in
your presence. Endure no tatling or tale-bearing concerning him in
the family, but prevent or stop it with all diligence. Whenever you
can do it consistently with truth, and so far as you can, defend him.
And in every point, be just as tender of his character as of your
own. To this head may be referred faithfulness in keeping the secrets
of your master. Many of these you cannot but know, by reason of the
close connexion which is between you, your continually abiding so near
together, and the many employments he has for you. All these therefore
you are carefully to conceal, provided they tend not to the dishonour
of God, or to the danger of the church or common-wealth, or indeed of
any private person. For _Jonathan_ is commended for discovering the
mischief which _Saul_ had secretly intended against _David_, _1 Sam._
xx. 12. Be faithful, 3. with regard to his soul. With all plainness
which your station allows, and yet with all respect and humility
_rebuke, and suffer not sin upon him_. The time, the manner, and the
other circumstances relating to this difficult task, God will give you
to chuse aright, if your eye be single, and you seek his direction by
earnest prayer.

    ♦ ‘19.’ omitted from text

20. Fourthly, _Be patient_. In your patience _possessing your souls_,
♦steadily follow the preceding directions, and _be_ thus _subject,
not only to the good and gentle_ masters, but also to the froward: to
those who are neither good nor gentle, who have neither religion nor
good-nature, that it may appear you do your _service unto the_ Lord,
_and not unto men_. But it may be proper in the mean time to observe,
that the state of _English_ servants, is widely different from the
state of those to whom St. _Paul_ and St. _Peter_ wrote. Many of
those, perhaps the greater part were slaves, who by the miserable
constitution of their country, were the absolute property of their
master, as much as were his sheep and oxen. Therefore it was not in
their power to leave or change their master, but they were constrained
to stay with them till death. Consequently, those directions were
peculiarly necessary for those who were in such a situation: _This
is thank-worthy, if a man for conscience toward_ God, _endure grief,
suffering wrongfully. For what glory is it, if when ye be buffeted
for your faults, ye shall take it patiently? But if when ye do well,
and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with_
God, 1 Pet. ii. 19, 20. But to those who are born under an happier
constitution, undoubtedly the first advice should be, _If thou mayst
be free_, from a froward, ill-natured man, then use it rather. Do not
bind yourself at all, if you can honestly avoid it (as you generally
may) to any, who you have reason to believe is an unjust or an
unmerciful man. And if you are bound to such an one already, yet if
you should _suffer wrongfully_ from him, _if you do well_, and suffer
notwithstanding, it is by no means your duty to endure it. Rather it
is your duty to appeal to the magistrate, who _is the minister of_ God
_to thee for good_, and to desire of him such a remedy, as the laws
of your country allow. In this manner _commit yourself_ and your cause
_to him that judgeth righteously_. But even in this case, till you are
free from the unrighteous man, remember the example Christ has left:
_Who when he was reviled, reviled not again, when he suffered, he
threatened not_. How much more should you _tread in_ these _his
steps_, with regard to things of smaller moment, with regard to those
inconsiderable instances either of injustice or unkindness, which are
to be expected almost in every family, and for which even our laws
provide no remedy? Here undoubtedly you are called to suffer: and see
that you do so with all meekness and gentleness. Not only _when_ you
_are reviled, revile not again_, but _answer not again_, Tit. ii. 10.
Open not your mouth, unless silence might have the appearance of
sullenness or disrespect: and then do it in as few words, as the
matter will bear, and with all the softness you are master of.

    ♦ ‘steddily’ replaced with ‘steadily’

21. Before he closes the subject, St. _Paul_ does not fail to remind
you, what great encouragement you have, to persevere in all these
duties of your station, whatever difficulties you meet with therein.
For hereby you _may adorn the gospel of_ God _our Saviour in all
things_. So strong an expression is scarce to be found in all the
writings of the apostle; when he speaks to persons of the highest rank,
as he here uses to men of low degree. You therefore are peculiarly
called of God, to be an honour to your profession, your general
profession of Christians; to shew what manner of men they are who
_serve the_ Lord Christ: see then that you in particular _walk
circumspectly_, accurately, exactly: that either your unbelieving
masters _may be won_ by your conversation, or at least believers
confirmed and comforted.

22. Still further encouragement you have in _knowing that of the_ Lord
_ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance_: that inheritance
reserved for you in heaven, which is of infinitely greater value,
than any which your master now enjoys, or any which you can receive on
earth. You know that the day is coming when your common Master will
descend in the clouds of heaven: and you are assured, in that day,
_Whatsoever good thing a man_ hath _done_, while he was _serving_ God
_in his generation, the same shall he receive from the_ Lord, _whether
he be bond or free: The same_――That is, a reward proportionable
thereto, in an additional degree of glory. Therefore, let nothing be
wanting now. _Work your work betimes, and in his time he will give
you your reward._ Now be honest, be true, be faithful, be patient. Now
_obey your masters with fear_, yea, _with fear and trembling_. Do them
service with _singleness of heart, with good-will, with your_ whole
_soul_. Do this for the honour of the gospel, for the glory of God
your Saviour, for the present good of your own soul, and for the
increase of your eternal inheritance.




                      An Extract from Mr. LAW’s
                               TREATISE
                       On CHRISTIAN PERFECTION.




                               CHAP. I.


THE wisdom of mankind has, for several ages, been enquiring into the
nature of man, and the nature of the world in which he is placed.

The wants and miseries of human nature, and the vanity of worldly
enjoyments, have made it difficult for the wisest men to tell, what
human happiness was, or wherein it consisted.

It has pleased the infinite goodness of God to satisfy our enquiries,
by a revelation made to the world by his Son Jesus Christ.

This revelation has laid open the great secrets of providence from the
creation of the world. It has explained the present state of things,
and given man all the information that is necessary, both to give him
rest here, and to lead him safely to everlasting happiness.

It is now only necessary that the poor wisdom of man do not exalt
itself against God, that we suffer our eyes to be opened by him that
made them, and our lives to be conducted by him, in whom _we live,
move and have our being_.


II. As happiness is the sole end of all our labours, so this
revelation aims at nothing else.

It gives us right notions of ourselves, of our true good and real evil;
it shews us our true condition, both our greatness and meanness, our
happiness and misery.

*Before this, man was a mere riddle to himself, and his condition
full of darkness and perplexity; a restless inhabitant of a miserable
disordered world, _walking in a vain shadow and disquieting himself in
vain_.

*But this light has dispersed the anxiety of his vain conjectures. It
has, by adding heaven to earth, and eternity to time, opened such a
glorious view of things, as leads men, even in this world, to a _peace
of_ God _which passeth all understanding_.


III. *This revelation acquaints us, that we have a spirit within us,
which was created after the divine image; that this spirit is now in a
fallen condition; that the body in which it is placed is its sepulchre,
where it is enslaved to fleshly thoughts, blinded with false notions
of good and evil, and dead to all taste of its true happiness.

It teaches us, that the world in which we live, is also in a
disordered, irregular state, and cursed for the sake of man; that
it is no longer the paradise that God made it, but the remains of a
drowned world, full of marks of God’s displeasure, and the sin of its
inhabitants.

That it is a mere wilderness, a state of darkness, a vale of misery,
where vice and madness, dreams and shadows, variously please and
torment the short, miserable lives of men.

Devils also, and evil spirits have here their residence, promoting the
works of darkness, and wandering up and down, seeking whom they may
devour.

So that man, in his natural state, is like a person sick of variety
of diseases, knowing neither his distemper nor his cure, and inclosed
in a place where he can hear or see, or feel, or taste of nothing but
what tends to enflame his disorders.


IV. *But Christianity puts an end to this state of things, blots out
all the ideas of worldly wisdom, brings the world itself to ashes,
and creates all anew. It calls man from an animal life and earthly
societies, to be born again of the Holy Ghost, and be made a member
of the kingdom of God.

It crushes into nothing the concerns of this life, condemns it as a
state of vanity and darkness, and leads man to a happiness with God in
the realms of light.

It proposes the purifying of our souls, enlivened with the divine
spirit: it sets before us new goods and evils, and forms us to a
glorious participation of the divine nature.

This is the one end of Christianity. It does not leave us to grovel on
in the desires of the flesh, to cast about for worldly happiness, and
wander in darkness and exile from God: but the sole design of it is,
to lead us from all thoughts of rest here, to separate us from worldly
tempers, to deliver us from the folly of our passions, the slavery
of our own natures, the power of evil spirits, and unite us to God,
the true fountain of real good. This is the mighty change which
Christianity aims at, to reform our whole natures, renew our souls
in the image of God, and make them the inhabitants of heavenly and
immortal bodies.


V. The manner by which it changes our whole state is equally great and
wonderful.

_I am the way, the truth, and the life_, saith our blessed Lord, _no
man cometh unto the Father but by me_.

As all things were created by the Son of God, and _without him was
not any thing made that was made_, so are all things redeemed and
restored by the same divine person.

As nothing could come into being without him, so nothing can enter
into a state of happiness but by him.

The dignity of this redemption at once confounds the pride, and
relieves the misery of man. How fallen must he be from God, that
should need so great a mediator! And, on the other hand, how full of
comfort is the thought that so high a method, so stupendous a means
should be taken to restore him to a state of peace and favour with
God!


VI. *This is the true point of view, in which every Christian is to
behold himself. He is to overlook the poor projects of this life, and
consider himself as a creature, thro’ his natural corruption, falling
into a state of endless misery; but by the mercy of God, redeemed to
a condition of everlasting happiness.

All the precepts and doctrines of the gospel are founded on these two
great truths, the deplorable corruption of human nature, and its new
birth in Christ Jesus.

The one includes all the misery, the other all the happiness of man.

It is on these that the whole frame of Christianity is built,
forbidding only such things as fasten us to the disorders of sin,
and commanding only those duties which lead us into the liberty of
the Sons of God.

So that if we think and act as Christians, we act suitably to these
terms of our condition, fearing and avoiding all the motions of our
corrupted nature, cherishing the secret inspirations of the Holy
Spirit, opening our minds for the reception of the divine light, and
pressing after all the perfections of our new birth.

All Christians are continually to behave themselves conformable to
this double capacity. We are to fear and watch and pray, like men that
are always on the brink of eternal death; and to believe and hope,
labour and aspire, like Christians that are called to fight the good
fight of faith, and lay hold on eternal life.


VII. This knowledge of ourselves makes human life a state of
infinite importance, placed upon so dreadful a point betwixt two such
eternities.

Well might our Saviour say to one that begged first to go and bury his
father, _Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead_.

For what is all the bustle and hurry of the world but dead shew, and
its greatest actors but dead men, when compared with that real life to
which the followers of Christ are redeemed?

Had we been made only for this world, worldly wisdom had been our
highest wisdom; but seeing we are redeemed to an intirely contrary
state, worldly wisdom is now our greatest foolishness.

It is now our only wisdom, to understand our new state, and conduct
ourselves by the principles of our redemption.


VIII. The nature of our Christian calling is of that concern, as to
deserve all our thoughts, and is indeed only to be perceived by great
seriousness and attention of mind.

The Christian state is an invisible life, supported, not by sensible
goods, but the spiritual graces of faith and hope: so that a man
busied in earthly cares and enjoyments, perceives nothing of this
great and heavenly calling.

The changes which Christianity make in the present state of things,
are all invisible: its goods and evils, which are the only true
standards of our actions, are not subject to the knowledge of our
senses.

In God _we live and move and have our being_; but how unseen, how
unfelt is all this!

Christ _is the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world, the true
light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world_. He is the
Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end of all things. The whole
creation subsists in him and by him. No person is in any favour with
God, but by this great Mediator. But how invisible, how unknown to all
our senses is this state of things!

Christians are temples of the Holy Ghost, consecrated to God, members
of Christ’s mystical body, of his flesh and his bones, receiving life,
spirit and motion, from him their head.

But our senses see no farther than our parents and kindred according
to the flesh, and fix our hearts to earthly friendships and relations.
Well then may this life be deemed a state of darkness, since it thus
clouds and covers all the true appearances of things, and keeps our
minds insensible and unaffected with matters of such infinite moment.


IX. *Would we therefore know our true condition, we must search after
_a life that is hid with_ Christ _in_ God. We must consider ourselves
as parts of Christ’s mystical body, and as members of the kingdom of
heaven. In vain do we consider the beauty and strength of our bodies,
our alliances with men, and the distinctions of this world; for these
things no more constitute the state of human life, than rich _coffins_
or beautiful _monuments_ constitute the state of the dead.

We justly pity the last poor efforts of human greatness, when we see
a breathless carcase lying in _state_. It appears so far from any
real honour, that it rather looks like ridiculing the misery of our
nature. But were religion to form our judgments, the life of a proud,
voluptuous, sensual man, tho’ shining in all the splendour of the
world, would give us no higher an idea of human dignity, than a poor
corpse laid in state.

For a sinner, when glorying in the lust of the flesh, the lust of
the eye, and the pride of life, is a more shocking sight of misery
ridiculed, than any pageantry that can expose the dead.


X. We have an apostle’s authority to say, that _he who liveth in
pleasure is dead whilst he liveth_.

This shews us, that when we enquire what our life is, we must think
of something higher than the vigour of our blood, the gaiety of our
spirits, or the enjoyment of sensual pleasures: since these, tho’
the allowed signs of living men, are often undeniable proofs of dead
Christians.

When therefore we would truly know what our life or happiness is, we
must look at nothing that is sensible or temporal. We may as well dig
in the earth for wisdom as look at flesh and blood to see what we are,
or at worldly enjoyments to find what we want, or at temporal evils to
see what we have to fear.

We must therefore, if we would conceive our true state, our real good
and evil, look farther than these dim eyes of flesh can carry our
views. We must, with the eyes of faith, penetrate into the invisible
world, the world of spirits, and consider our order and condition
among them; a world which, as St. _John_ speaks, _hath no need of the
sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of_ God _doth
lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof_. For it is there, among
eternal beings, that we must take an eternal fellowship, or fall into
a kingdom of darkness and everlasting misery.


XI. *Christianity is so noble in its ends, so extensive in its views,
that it has no less subjects than these to entertain our thoughts.

It buries our bodies, burns the present world, triumphs over death by
a general resurrection, and opens all into an eternal state.

It never considers us in any other respect than as fallen spirits, it
disregards worldly distinctions, and proposes nothing to our fears but
eternal misery, nothing to our hopes but an endless enjoyment of God.

This is the great, the important condition, in which Christianity
has placed us, above our bodies, above the world, above death, to be
present at the dissolution of all things, to see the earth in flames,
and the heavens wrapt up like a scroll, to stand at the general
resurrection, to appear at the universal judgment, and to live for
ever, when all that our eyes have seen is passed away and gone.


XII. *Take therefore upon thee a temper suitable to this greatness
of thy condition. Remember that thou art an eternal spirit; that thou
art but for a few months or years in a state of flesh and blood, only
to try whether thou shalt be for ever happy with God, or for ever
miserable with the devil.

Thou wilt hear of other concerns and other greatness in this world.
Thou wilt see every order of men, every family, every person pursuing
some fancied happiness, as if the world had not only happiness, but a
particular kind of happiness for all its inhabitants.

But when thou seest this, fancy thou sawest all the world asleep: the
prince no longer a prince: the beggar no longer begging, but every
man sleeping out of his proper state; some happy, others tormented,
and all changing their condition, as fast as one foolish dream could
succeed another.

When thou hast seen this, if thou wilt, thou mayst go to sleep too,
thou mayst lie down and dream. And this is all; for be as happy as
the world can make thee, all is but sleeping and dreaming: and what
is still worse, it ♦is like sleeping in a ship, when thou shouldst be
pumping for life, or dreaming thou art a prince, when thou shouldst be
redeeming thyself from slavery.

    ♦ ‘it’ replaced with ‘is’


XIII. This is no imaginary flight of a melancholy fancy, but the real
nature of things.

*For if thou art that immortal nature, that fallen spirit which
religion teaches us; if thou art to meet death, resurrection, and
judgment, as the forerunners of an eternal state, what are all the
little flashes of pleasure, the changing appearances of worldly
happiness, but so many sorts of dreams?

*How canst thou talk of the advantage of fortune, the pleasures of
food or apparel, without being in a dream?

Is the _beggar_ asleep, when he fancies he is building himself fine
houses? Is the _prisoner_ in a dream, when he imagines himself in open
fields and fine groves? And canst thou think thy immortal spirit is
awake, while it is delighting itself in the shadows and bubbles of
worldly happiness?

For if it be true, that man is upon his trial, if the trial is for
eternity, if life is but a vapour, what is there that deserves a
serious thought, but how to get well out of the world, and make it a
right passage to our eternal state?


XIV. *It is the manner of some countries, in the burial of their dead,
to put a staff and shoes and money in the sepulchre along with the
corpse.

We see the folly and ignorance of such a poor contrivance to assist
the dead: but if we did but understand what is life, we should see as
much folly in the poor contrivances to assist the living.

For how many things do people labour after, break their rest and peace
to get, which yet when gotten are of just as much real use to them,
as a staff and shoes to a corpse under ground? They are always adding
something to their life, which is only like adding another pair of
shoes to a body in the grave.

Thou mayst hire more servants, new paint thy rooms, and put on richer
apparel: and these will help thee to be happy, as _golden_ staffs or
_painted_ shoes will help a dead man to walk.


XV. *If thou rememberest, that the whole race of mankind are a race of
fallen spirits, that pass thro’ this world, as an arrow passeth thro’
the air, thou wilt soon perceive, that there is no wisdom or happiness,
but in getting away to the best advantage.

If thou rememberest, that this life is but a vapour, that thou art
in the body, only to be holy, humble, and heavenly-minded; that thou
standest upon the brink of death, resurrection, and judgment, and that
these great things will suddenly come upon thee like a thief in the
night, thou wilt see a vanity in the things of this world, greater
than any words can express.

Do but therefore know thyself as religion hath made thee known; do
but see thyself in the light which Christ has brought into the world,
and then thou wilt see that nothing concerns thee, but what concerns
an everlasting spirit that is going to God; and that there are no
enjoyments here that are worth a thought, but such as may adorn thee
with that holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord.


XVI. *This is the end of Christianity. It is not a school for the
teaching of moral virtue. It is deeper and more divine in its designs:
it implies an entire change of heart, a full dedication of ourselves,
our souls and bodies unto God.

Our blessed Saviour came into the world, not to make any composition
with it, but to put an end to the designs of flesh and blood, and to
shew us, we must either renounce this world to become Sons of God, or
by enjoying it, take our portion among damned spirits.

Christianity is a state of things that wholly regards eternity: it
knows of no other goods and evils, but such as relate to another life.

It is a kingdom of heaven that has no other interests in this world,
than as it takes its members out of it; and when the number of the
elect is compleat, this world will be consumed with fire, as having no
other reason for its existence, than the furnishing members for that
blessed society, which is to last for ever.

I cannot here omit observing the folly of human wisdom, which, full
of imaginary projects, pleases itself with its lasting establishments
in a world doomed to destruction, and which is to last no longer than
till a sufficient number is redeemed out of it.

Did we see a number of animals hastening to take up their apartments,
and contending for the best places in a building that was to be beat
down as soon as its old inhabitants were got safe out, we should see
a contention full as wise as the wisdom of worldly ambition.


XVII. That Christianity implies a change of nature, is plain from the
whole tenor of the gospel.

The Saviour of the world saith, _That except a man be born again of
water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of_ God. We
are told, that _to as many as received him, to them he gave power to
become the Sons of_ God; _which were born not of blood, nor of the
will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of_ God.

These words plainly teach us, that Christianity implies an entire
change of nature: that as our birth was to us the beginning of a
new life, and brought us into a society of earthly enjoyments, so
Christianity is another birth, that brings us into a condition as new
as when we first saw the light.

We begin again to be, when we enter upon fresh terms of life, have new
tempers, new hopes and fears, and an entire change of every thing that
can be called good or evil.

This new birth is the very essence and soul of Christianity; it is
the seal of the promises, the mark of our sonship, the earnest of our
inheritance, and the sure proof of our acceptance with God.


XVIII. If we would know what a change our new life in Christ implies,
let us consider what it is to be born of God.

_Whosoever is born of_ God, saith the apostle, _doth not commit sin.
For his seed remaineth in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born
of_ God. _In this the children of_ God _are manifest, and the children
of the devil_. And again, _We know, that whosoever is born of_ God
_sinneth not, but he that is begotten of_ God _keepeth himself, and
the wicked one toucheth him not_. 1 John iii. 10, v. 18.

The same apostle tells us, _Whosoever is born of_ God _overcometh the
world_. He overcometh all worldly desires and worldly fears. He is
crucified unto the world and the world crucified unto him. He is dead
to the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life.
And he feareth not them that can kill the body, and after that have
nothing more that they can do.

We must therefore examine into the state of our minds, and see whether
we are thus changed in our natures, thus born again: whether we are so
spiritual, as to have overcome the world: so holy, as that we cannot
commit sin; since it is the undeniable doctrine of scripture, that
this new birth is as necessary to salvation, as the believing in Jesus
Christ.


♦XX. There is perhaps no duty more contrary to flesh and blood than the
loving our enemies. But this is easy to those that are born of God.

    ♦ Number ‘XIX’ skipped

For take but away earthly goods and evils, and you take away all
hatred and malice. For they are the only causes of those base tempers.

He therefore that _hath overcome the world_, hath overcome all the
occasions of envy and ill nature, and can pity, pray for and forgive
all his enemies, who want less forgiveness from him than he hath
received from his heavenly Father.

Let us here awhile contemplate the height and depth of Christian
holiness, and that godlike spirit which it implies! And this alone
might convince us, that to be Christians, we must be born again: we
must so change our very natures, as to have no desire in our souls,
but that of being like God.

And till we rejoice and delight only in God, we cannot have this love
to our fellow-creatures.

We may therefore learn from this, as well as from what was observed
before, that Christianity does not consist in doing no harm, nor in
doing good, (as it is called) nor yet in any particular moral virtues,
as some idly suppose; but in an entire change of our hearts, of all
our natural tempers, and a life wholly devoted to God.


XXI. The same doctrine is farther taught by our blessed Saviour, when
speaking of little children, he saith, _Suffer them to come unto me;
for of such is the kingdom of_ God. Luke xviii. 16.

Now the peculiar condition of infants is such, that they have every
thing to learn; they are to be taught by others what they are to hope
and fear, and wherein their proper happiness consists.

And in this sense first we are to become as little children, to be as
tho’ we had every thing to learn, and suffer ourselves to be taught,
what we are to chuse, and what we are to avoid; to pretend to no
wisdom of our own, but be ready to be taught of God, the only way of
pursuing that happiness, which God in Christ proposes to us; and to
accept it with such simplicity of mind as little children, who have
nothing of their own to oppose to it.


XXII. But is this infant temper essential to Christianity? Does the
kingdom of God consist only of those that have it? This is another
undeniable proof that Christianity implies a _new nature_; such as
having renounced the prejudices of life, the maxims of human wisdom,
gives itself with a child-like submission and simplicity, to be
entirely governed by the doctrines and Spirit of Christ.

Craft and policy, selfish cunning, proud abilities and vain endowments,
have no admittance into this holy state of society with Christ in God.

The wisdom of this world, the intrigues of life, the designs of
greatness and ambition, lead to another kingdom. He that follows
Christ must be emptied of this vain furniture, and put on the meek
ornament of infant and undesigning simplicity.

_Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this
world? Hath not_ God _made foolish the wisdom of this world?_

If we will partake of the wisdom of God, we must judge of this world
and its most boasted gifts, as the wisdom of God judgeth of them; we
must deem them foolishness, and with undivided hearts labour after one
wisdom, one happiness, in being entirely devoted to God.


XXIII. This comparison of Christians to little children, may also
remind us of a certain simplicity of behaviour, which is always the
effect of a heart truly and entirely devoted to God.

As worldly men are therefore reserved, artful and deceitful, because
they have many and secret ends to bring about; so they whose heart is
wholly devoted to God, being wholly taken up with one great design,
and having no little successes that they labour after, have no need
of artifice or disguise; and so are naturally open, simple and
undesigning in all the affairs of life.


XXIV. From all these considerations it appears, that Christianity
implies a _new nature_, and a life entirely devoted to God.

Now if this be Christianity, it may serve to instruct two sorts of
people:

First, Those who are content with an outward religion; whose
Christianity lies in outward decency and regularity of life.

I don’t mean those that are insincere or hypocritical: but all those
who are content with outward religion, with any thing short of that
inward holiness, that newness of spirit which the gospel describes.

They should consider that charity, chastity, sobriety and justice
may be practised without Christianity. A Jew, a Heathen may be
(what you call) charitable and temperate: but to make these parts of
Christianity, they must proceed from a heart truly turned to God, that
is full of an infant simplicity, that is crucified with Christ, that
is born again of the Spirit, that has overcome the world. Temperance
or justice without this, may be the temperance of a Jew or a Heathen:
but it is not Christian temperance or justice, till it proceeds from
a Christian spirit. Could we do and suffer all that Christ himself
did or suffered, yet if it was not all done in the same temper, in the
Spirit of Christ, it would profit us nothing.


XXV. A Christian is sober, charitable and just, upon the same
principles and with the same spirit that he receives the Holy
communion; as acts of obedience to God, and as so many instances
of a heart truly devoted to God.

A Christian is sober, not only so far as suits with a regular life,
but so as becomes one who is born of the Holy Spirit, who dwelleth in
God and God in him.

He is charitable, not only so far as suits with his natural temper,
and with good esteem among men; but in such a measure as is suitable
to the doctrines and spirit of the gospel.

For indeed, neither charity, nor temperance, nor justice, nor any
other virtues (as they are called) are parts of Christian holiness,
till they spring from holiness of heart, from the mind that was in
Christ.

This is what cannot be too much considered by those whose religion
has made no change in their hearts; who fancy themselves Christians,
only because of the regularity of their lives, altho’ they have never
experienced a renewal in the spirit of their minds, who pray without
devotion, give alms without charity, and are Christians without the
Spirit of Christianity.


XXVI. Secondly, This doctrine may serve to instruct those who are
convinced, they have been hitherto strangers to religion.

Some people who begin to look toward religion, think they have done
enough, when they have reformed the outward course of their lives;
when they have left off their gross vices and follies, or are grown
careful of some particular duties.

Thus a man who has been a drunkard many years, thinks he has made a
sufficient change by becoming temperate: another imagines, he is in
a very good and safe state, because he does not neglect the public
worship, as he used to do: a lady fancies she lives enough to God
because she has left off plays, and lives more at home than formerly.

But such people should consider, that Christianity does not consist in
the fewness of our vices; no nor in any one particular virtue, nor yet
in the outward amendment of our lives: but in such a thorough change
of heart, as makes the love of God the spring and measure and rule of
all our tempers and actions.


XXVII. It is a miserable error, to think we are Christians, because we
are less vain or covetous, more sober and decent in our behaviour than
we used to be. Yet this is the case with many, who think they are well,
because they are not so bad as they were, because they are reformed
from outward wickedness; not considering how entire a reformation of
heart, as well as life, Christianity implies.

But let such people remember, that they who thus measure _themselves
by themselves are not wise_. Let them remember that they are not
disciples of Christ, till they have, like him, _offered their whole
soul and body as a reasonable living sacrifice to_ God; that they are
not members of Christ’s mystical body, till they are united unto him
by a _new spirit_; that they have not entered into the kingdom of God,
till they have entered into an _infant simplicity_ of heart, till
they are so born of God as _not to commit sin_, so full of an heavenly
Spirit as to have _overcome the world_.

Let them remember, _He that is in_ Christ _is a new creature_, and
that nothing short of this will avail before God, nothing less than
the entire renewal of the soul in righteousness and all true holiness.
Let them remember, that there is no religion that will stand us in
any stead, but that which is the conversion of the heart to God, when
all our tempers are holy, heavenly, divine, springing from a soul
that is _born again_ of the Spirit, and tends with one full bent to
a perfection and happiness in the enjoyment of God.


XXVIII. Let us therefore look carefully to ourselves, and consider
what manner of spirit we are of: let us not think our condition safe,
because we are of this or that church or persuasion, or because we
are strict observers of the outward offices of religion. For we can’t
but see, these are marks that belong to more than belong to Christ.
All are not his that _prophesy_, or even _cast out devils, and work
miracles in his name_. Much less those who, with corrupt minds and
worldly hearts, are only _baptized in his name_.

*If religion has raised us into a _new world_; if it has filled us
with _new ends_ of life; if it has taken possession of our hearts,
altered the whole turn of our minds, and changed the whole stream of
our affections: if it has given us _new joys and griefs, new hopes and
fears_; if all things in us are become new: if _the love of_ God _is
shed abroad in our hearts, by the Holy Ghost given unto us_, and this
_Spirit beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of_
God: then are we Christians, not in name only, but in truth; then we
do believe in the Holy Jesus, and we shall _rejoice in the day of_
Christ, _that we have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain_.




                              CHAP. II.


_CHRISTIANITY requires a renouncing of the world, and all worldly
tempers._

I. The Christian religion being to raise a new, spiritual, and, as yet,
invisible world, and to place man among thrones, principalities and
spiritual beings, is at entire enmity with this present corrupt state
of flesh and blood.

It ranks the world, with the flesh and the devil, as an equal enemy
to those glorious ends which it proposes.

Accordingly the gospel lays its foundation, in utterly renouncing
those false goods and enjoyments, which feed the vanity and corruption
of our nature, fill our hearts with foolish and wicked passions, and
keep us separate from God, the only happiness of all spirits.


II. For not only the vices, the wickedness, and vanity of this world,
but even its most lawful concerns, if unduly pursued, make men unable
to enter into the true state of Christianity.

He who is busied in an _honest_ calling, may, on that account, be
finally rejected of God.

*For it is no more pardonable to be less affected to the things of
God, for the sake of any worldly business, than for the indulgence of
our pride, or any other sinful passion: every business of life being
equally trifling, when compared with the one thing needful.


III. Men of serious business indeed generally censure those, who
trifle away their time in vain and impertinent pleasures.

But they don’t consider that their own employments also are as vain
as vanity itself: they don’t consider that any business or employment,
if it has got hold of the heart, renders men as vain and odious in the
sight of God, as any sensual gratification.

They may call it an _honest care_, a _wise industry_, or by any other
plausible name. But it is a wisdom which can no more recommend itself
to the eyes of God than the wisdom of an _epicure_.

*For it shews as wrong a turn of mind, and as great a contempt of the
true good, to neglect any degrees of piety for the sake of business,
as for any the most trifling pleasures of life.


IV. *The wisdom of this world indeed gives an importance and air of
greatness to several ways of life, and ridicules others as vain and
contemptible, which differ only in their kind of vanity. But the
wisdom from above condemns all labour as equally fruitless, which
hinders our labouring after everlasting life. For what can it signify
whether a man forgets God in his _farm_, or in a _shop_, or at a
_gaming table_? The world is full as important in its _pleasures_ as
in its _cares_; there is no more wisdom in the one than in the other.
And the man who, by the _cares_ and _business_ of the world is made
less affected to the things of God, is no wiser than he who takes his
delight in running _foxes_ and _hares_ out of breath.

For there is no wisdom in any thing but religion. Nor is any way of
life less vain than another, but as it is made serviceable to piety,
and conspires with the designs of religion, to raise mankind to a
participation and enjoyment of the divine nature.


V. Let those who are not at all ashamed to be devoted to the cares and
business of the world, consider those states of life, which they own
to be vain and foolish, and contrary to religion.

Some people have no other _care_, than how to give their _palate_
fresh pleasure, and enlarge the happiness of _tasting_.

Others live to no other purpose, than to breed _dogs_, and attend
the sports of the field.

Men of sober business, who seem to act the grave part of life,
generally condemn these ways of life.

But why are they to be condemned? Produce but the true reason why
any of these are vain and sinful, and the same reason will conclude
against every way of life which is not wholly devoted to God.


VI. Let the man who is deep in worldly business, but shew the vanity
and shame of a life devoted to _pleasures_, and the same reasons
will shew the vanity and shame of a life filled with worldly _cares_.
So that whosoever can condemn sensuality, ambition, or any way of
life upon the principles of reason and religion, carries his own
condemnation within his own breast, unless his life be entirely
devoted to God.


VII. It is granted that some cares are made necessary by the
necessities of nature. And the same also may be observed of some
pleasures, as the pleasures of eating, drinking and rest. But if
reason and religion do not limit these _pleasures_ by the necessities
of nature, we fall from rational creatures into drones, sots,
gluttons, and epicures.

*In like manner our _care_ after some worldly things is necessary. But
if this care is not bounded by the just wants of nature, if it wanders
into unnecessary pursuits, and fills the mind with false desires
and cravings; if it wants to add an imaginary splendour to the plain
demands of nature, it is vain and irregular; it is the care of an
_epicure_, a longing for _sauces_ and _ragous_, and corrupts the soul
like any other sensual indulgence.

For this reason our Lord points so many of his doctrines at the common
allowed employments of life, to teach us, that they may employ our
minds as falsely and dangerously as any trifles whatever.

He teaches us, that even the necessaries of life should be sought with
a kind of indifference, that so our souls may be truly sensible of
greater wants, and disposed to hunger and thirst after enjoyments that
will make us happy for ever.


VIII. But how unlike are Christians to Christianity! It commands us to
_take no thought, saying, what shall we eat, or what shall we drink?_
Yet Christians are restless and laborious, till they can eat in
_plate_.

It commands us to be indifferent about raiment. But Christians are
full of care and concern, to be _cloathed in purple and fine linen_.
It enjoins us to _take no thought for the morrow_. Yet Christians
think they have lived in vain, if they don’t _leave estates_ at their
death. And these call themselves disciples of that Lord, who saith,
_He that forsaketh not all that he hath, cannot be my disciple_.


IX. It must not be said that these doctrines are not plainly enough
taught in scripture, because the lives and behaviour of Christians are
so contrary to them. For if the lives of Christians might be alledged
against the doctrines of scripture, none of them would have lasted to
this day.

It is one of the ten commandments, _Thou shalt not take the name
of the Lord thy God in vain_. And our Saviour has forbid swearing,
yea, in the most solemn manner. Yet where more swearing than among
Christians, and among such Christians as would think it hard to be
reckoned a reproach to the Christian name?

The scripture says of Christians, that they are born of God, and _have
overcome the world_. Can they then be reckoned of that number, who
have not so much as overcome that flagrant sin, to which they have no
temptation in nature?

Well therefore may the doctrines of heavenly-mindedness, and contempt
of the world be disregarded, since they run counter to all the
corruptions of flesh and blood, to all the pride and vanity of our
nature.


X. But let those who are startled at these doctrines, deal faithfully
with their own hearts, and ask themselves whether they should not have
had the same dislike to them, had they lived in our Saviour’s days?
Or whether they can find any one reason, why they should have been
so spiritual and heavenly then, which is not as good and as strong
a reason for their being as spiritual and heavenly now?

*Hath heaven or earth suffered any change since that time? Is the
world become now more worth our notice, or heavenly treasure of less
value than it was then? Or have we had another Saviour since, that has
compounded things with this world, and helped us to an easier way to
the next?

Yet, if an _apostle_ was to raise from the dead, calling rich and
great men to these doctrines, they would drive their coaches from such
a preacher, rather than be saved at such a price.


XI. To set this great truth in a still clearer light, I will appeal a
little even to the imagination of the reader.

Let it be supposed, that rich men are now _enjoying_ their riches, and
taking all the usual delights of plenty; that they are labouring for
the meat that perisheth, contriving scenes of pleasure, and spending
their estates in proud expences.

After this supposition let it be imagined, that we saw the Holy Jesus,
who had not where to lay his head, with his twelve apostles, that had
left all to follow him. Let us imagine, that we heard him call all the
world, to take up the cross and follow him, promising, a treasure in
heaven to such as would quit all for his sake, and rejecting all that
would not comply therewith: denouncing woe and eternal death to all
that lived in fulness, pomp and worldly delights. Let it be imagined,
that we heard him commanding his disciples, to _take no thought,
saying, What shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal
shall we be cloathed?_ And giving this reason for it, _After all these
things do the Gentiles seek_.

Let it be imagined, that we saw the first Christians taking up the
cross, renouncing the world, and _counting all things but dung that
they might win Christ_.

I do not now so immediately appeal to the _judgment_ or _reason_ of
the reader. I leave it even with his imagination, that wild faculty,
to determine, whether it be possible for these two different sorts of
men, to be true disciples of the same Lord?


XII. *To proceed; Let us suppose that a rich man was to put up such a
prayer as this to God:

“O Lord, I thy sinful creature, whom thou hast called to a lively hope
of glory in Christ Jesus, beg of thee to grant me a _thousand_ times
more riches than I _need_, that I may be able to gratify myself and
family in the delights of eating and drinking, state and grandeur.
Grant that as the little span of life wears out, I may abound more
and more in wealth; and that I may see and perceive all the best and
surest ways of growing richer than any of my neighbours. This I humbly
and fervently beg, in the name, &c.”

Such a prayer as this should have had no place in this treatise; but
in hope that proportionably as it offends the _ear_, it may amend the
_heart_.


XIII. There is no one, I believe, but would be ashamed to put up such
a prayer as this to God. Yet let it be well observed, that all are of
the temper of this prayer, but those who have renounced the world.

We need not go among villains, and people of scandalous characters, to
find those who desire a _thousand times_ more than they want, who have
an eagerness to be every day richer and richer, who catch at still new
ways of gain; and scarce think any thing enough, except it equals or
exceeds the estate of their neighbours.

I beg of such that they would heartily condemn the profane and
unchristian spirit of the foregoing prayer, and that they would
satisfy themselves, nothing can be more odious and contrary to
religion.

But let them be assured also of this, that the same things which make
an unchristian prayer, make an unchristian life.

For the reason why these things appear so odious in a prayer, is
because they are so contrary to the spirit of religion. But is it
not as bad to _live_ contrary to the spirit of religion, as to _pray_
contrary to it?

At least, must not that way of life be highly blameable, which is so
shocking when put into the form of a prayer?


XIV. Need we any other conviction, that this manner of life is
contrary to the spirit of Christianity, than this, that the praying
according to it in Christ’s name, comes near to blasphemy?

Let it be considered how we should abominate a person, whom we knew to
use such a prayer: and let that teach us, how abominable such a life
must appear in the eyes of God! And with this addition of folly, that
we call the prayer _profane_, but think the life that answers to it to
be _Christian_.

From all this it is plain, that the present followers of Jesus Christ,
have no more to do with worldly enjoyments, than those he chose while
he himself was on earth; and that we are to have the same heavenly
devotion to God, the same affection, as any of those he conversed with
in the days of his flesh.


XV. Yet notwithstanding the scriptures are so express, men will not
give up their pre-conceived opinions.

It will still be asked, Where can be the harm of getting or enjoying
an estate?

Whether it be not a commendable thing, to _provide an estate_ for
one’s family?

And what people of birth and fortune are to do with themselves, if
they are not to _live up to_ their estates and qualities?

To the first question let it be answered, _Take no thought, saying,
what shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be
cloathed? For after all these things do the Gentiles seek._

Now, if to be careful and thoughtful, even about the necessaries of
life, be a care that is here forbidden, and that because it is such
a care as only becomes Heathens; surely to be careful and thoughtful
how to raise an estate, and enrich one’s family, is a care that is
sufficiently forbidden in Christians. And he that can yet think it
lawful, to make this the care and design of his life, is too blind
to be convinced by arguments. Our Saviour saith, _Labour not for the
meat that perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting
life_. He commands us not to _lay up for ourselves treasures on earth_;
he assures us that we _cannot serve_ God _and mammon_.

Now these places have no meaning, if it is still lawful for Christians
to heap up treasures, to labour for estates, and pursue designs of
enriching their families.


XVI. I know it is easy to evade the force of these texts, and to make
plausible harangues, upon the innocency of labouring to be rich, and
the consistency of serving God and mammon.

I don’t question but the rich young man in the gospel could have made
a very good apology for himself, and have shewn how reasonable and
innocent a thing it was, for so good and so young a man to _enjoy_ an
estate.

The _rich man_ in torments could have alledged how _much good_ he did
with his fortune; how many _trades_ he encouraged with his _purple_
and _fine linen_, and faring _sumptuously_ every day; and how he
conformed to the _ends of society_, by so spending his estate.


XVII. *But still the word of God shall not pass away. _Having food and
raiment, let us be therewith content. For they who will be rich fall
into a temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts,
which drown men in destruction and perdition._ 1 Tim. vi. 8.

We may, perhaps, by some acuteness of reasoning, find out, that this
still leaves us at our liberty, whether we will labour to be rich
or not: that notwithstanding what the apostle says, of a _snare_, a
_temptation_, and _foolish lusts_, yet we can pursue the means and
desire the happiness of riches, without any danger to our virtue.

But if so, we are as prudent as those Christians, who think they can
secure their virtue without watching and prayer, tho’ our Saviour has
said, _Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation_.

And he that neglects watching and prayer, tho’ the appointed means of
avoiding temptation, lives as much according to scripture, as he that
is careful and desirous of riches, tho’ the declared occasions of _sin,
snares_ and _destruction_.


XVIII. If we could submit to the plain doctrines of scripture,
it would never be asked what people of _fortune_ are to do with
themselves, if they are not to live up to the splendour and plenty
of their estates?

The rich man in the gospel was a _ruler_, a _young_ man, and a _good_
man: if therefore there are any of his rank who are neither young
nor good, it can hardly be thought, they have less to do to inherit
eternal life.

And as for those who, like him, have kept the commandments of God from
their youth, I dare not tell them, that they are not under a necessity
of offering all their wealth to God, and of making their estates,
however acquired, not the support of vain indulgences, but the relief
of their brethren.


XIX. Suppose great people, by means of their wealth, could throw
themselves into a _deep sleep_ of pleasant dreams, which would last
till death awaked them, would any one think it lawful for them to make
such use of their riches?

And yet he that had done nothing but sleep and dream to the time
of his death, might as well say, that he had been working out his
salvation with fear and trembling, as he that has been living in
luxury, splendour, and sensual gratifications.

The gospel has made no exception for _dignity_ of birth, or difference
in _fortune_; but has appointed the same _straight_ gate, the common
passage for all persons to enter into glory.

The distinctions of civil life have their use; but if any one thinks
he may be less devoted to God, less afraid of the corruptions of
pleasure and pride, because he is born of a rich family, he is as much
mistaken as he that fancies he has a privilege to steal, because he
was born of a Father that was poor.


XX. If the rich or great man can find out a course of pleasures, that
support no wrong turn of mind, an indulgence which does not gratify
sensuality, entertainments which feed no vain passions: if they can
find out such instances of splendour and greatness, as shew they love
God with all their hearts, and as gratify neither _the lust of the
flesh, the lust of the eye_, nor _the pride of life_, religion has no
command against such enjoyments.

But if this cannot be done, then the rich have no more permission to
live in vain indulgences than the poor have to steal.

*And let it be always remembered, that if any distinction of life
makes men forget that sin is their only baseness, and holiness their
only honour; if any condition makes them less disposed to imitate the
low, humble estate of their suffering Master; instead of being any
real advantage, it is their curse, their snare and destruction.


XXI. I know it will still be objected, that a man is not necessarily
proud, because he lives in shew and figure, any more than another is
necessarily humble, because he lives in a low estate.

It is granted, that men may be of a temper contrary to the estate in
which they live. But this is only true, of such as are in any state by
force, and contrary to their desires and endeavours.

A man in a low estate may be proud, because he is in such a state by
force; and is uneasy till he can raise himself out of it. If the same
is true of him that lives in figure and pomp, that he is in this state
by force, and is restless till he can lay it all aside, then we grant
he may be humble.

But nothing is weaker than to say, because a man may _be_ in a low
estate _per force_, without lowliness of mind, therefore another may
_chuse to live_ in all the height of grandeur and vanity, without any
height or vanity of mind.

A man may be an epicure in his temper, tho’ he is forced to live upon
bread and water. But will you therefore say, another who lives on all
sorts of dainties, and that by choice, may be no epicure?

If therefore they that live in pomp and shew, live therein out of
choice, and are not willing to live otherwise, we must talk nonsense
if we do not say their minds are as vain as the vanity of their state.


XXII. The necessity of renouncing the world, in whatever state of
life we are, may be yet farther proved from those divine tempers which
Christianity requires.

Christians are to love God with all their heart, with all their soul,
with all their mind, and with all their strength.

Now it is absolutely impossible we should do this, unless we have
renounced the world.

A man that has his head and his heart full of worldly concerns, can no
more love God with all his strength, than a man, who has his eyes on
the ground, can be looking towards heaven with all the strength of his
sight.


XXIII. It is certain, that we unavoidably love every thing in
proportion as it appears to be our happiness: if it appears to be half
our happiness, it will necessarily have half the strength of our love:
and if it appears to be all our happiness, we shall love it with all
our strength.

The Christian religion therefore, which requires the whole strength
of our nature to love God, lays a just foundation in requiring us
absolutely to renounce the happiness of the world; seeing it is
impossible to have two happinesses, and but one love.

And indeed what can be more ridiculous than to fancy, that a man who
is taken up with the enjoyments of the world, is at the same time
loving God with all his soul and with all his strength?

Is it not as absurd as to suppose that a man, who is devoted to,
and taken up with the sports of the field, is at the same time
contemplating mathematical speculations, with the whole ardour of
his mind?


XXIV. Another duty which proves the absolute necessity of thus
renouncing the world, is, The love of our neighbour.

_Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself_: if a man would know what
this implies, let him look impartially into his own heart, and see
what it is that he wishes to himself. Then let him turn all the same
wishes to his neighbour, and he will feel the just measure of his duty.

This will also teach him, that the true love of his neighbour is as
inconsistent with the love of the world, as duelling is inconsistent
with meekness and the forgiveness of injuries.


XXV. *This love is a temper that suits only such beings as have _one
common undivided happiness_, wherein they cannot be rivals to one
another. Now this is the state of all Christians, who have as truly
_one common_ happiness as they have _one common_ God. But if we put
ourselves out of this state, and seek for happiness in the enjoyments
of this life, we are as incapable of this love, as _wolves_ and
_bears_ that live upon prey.

One _common undivided_ happiness, being the only possible foundation
for this love, if we seek any other happiness, if we don’t renounce
all other pretensions, we cannot keep clear of such tempers as are
utterly inconsistent with the loving our neighbour as ourselves.

But when we are governed by a happiness wherein none can make himself
our rival, it will be no harder to love all men as ourselves, than to
wish them the enjoyment of the same light, or the common air: which
being goods that may be equally enjoyed by all, are not the occasions
of envy.


XXVI. *It is plain our Saviour intended this brotherly love, to be
the governing principle of our lives. But it cannot be so, unless
we are content to make no more of this world, than a supply of our
necessities, and to look for _one only_ happiness in the enjoyment of
God.

I don’t appeal to niggards and worldlings, to the proud and ambitious:
let those who think themselves _moderate_ in their worldly desires
and enjoyments, deal faithfully with themselves and see whether their
prosecution of their worldly affairs, permits them to love all men as
themselves.

Perhaps they have not those bitter envyings and hatreds to which
ambitious worldlings are subject. But still they have as certainly,
in their degree, and in proportion to their love of the world, their
envyings and hatreds, and want of sincere love, as other men.


XXVII. For a further proof of this, we need only look into the world,
and see the spirit that appears among almost all Christians.

We need not go to wicked and loose people. Let us go into any
_virtuous_ family, and we shall find it has its particular
_friendships_ and _hatreds_, its _envyings_ and _evil speakings_,
and all founded in the interests of the world.

And this necessarily springs from hence, that all Christians are busy
in attending to their worldly interests, intending only to keep clear
of dishonest practices: that is, they use the world as far as honest
_Heathens_ or _Jews_ would do, and consequently have such tempers as
_Jews_ and _Heathens_ have.

For it is not only cheating and dishonesty, but the bare desire of
worldly things, and the placing happiness in them, that lays the
foundation of all these unchristian tempers; and divides Christians
into more parties than there are families among them.

So that it is purely the engaging so far in the world as sober
Christians do: it is their false satisfaction in so many things
that they ought to renounce; it is their being too much alive to the
world, that makes all, even those who are called religious, subject
to tempers so contrary to the love of their neighbour.

Let this therefore teach us that we must renounce the world, if we
would live and love like Christians.


XXVIII. By renouncing the world, I do not mean, retiring into a
cloister. This would be like laying aside all use of cloaths, to avoid
the vanity of dress.

There is a reasonable use of the world, which is as lawful as it is to
eat and drink.

We may buy and sell; we may labour; we may provide for ourselves and
our families; that is, so far as is needful for life and godliness.
But farther we may not go.

The first step our desires take beyond things of necessity, ranks us
among worldlings, and raises in our minds all those tempers, which
disturb the minds of worldly men.


XXIX. You think yourself conformable to Christianity, because you
are _moderate_ in your desires. You don’t desire a large estate; you
desire only a _little_ finery, a _little_ state, and to have things
genteel about you.

Imagine now, that what you say, of _moderate_ desires, and _little
fineries_, had been said to our blessed Saviour when he was upon earth,
calling men to renounce the world and deny themselves.

Your own conscience tells you, he would have rebuked the author of
such a pretence with as much indignation as he rebuked _Peter, Get
thee behind me, Satan, for thou savourest not the things that be of
God_.

Now the spirit of Christianity is the same spirit that was in Christ
when he was upon earth. And if we have reason to think that such a
pretence would have been severely condemned by Christ, we have the
same reason to be sure, it is as severely condemned by Christianity.


XXX. Had our blessed Saviour a little before he left the world,
given _estates_ to his apostles, with a permission for them to enjoy
_little fineries_, and a _moderate state_ in a _genteel_ manner, he
had undone all that he had said of the contempt of the world, and
heavenly-mindedness. Such a permission had been a contradiction to
the main doctrines which he had taught.

Had the apostles lived in a _little state_, and in _moderate_ worldly
delights, how could they have said, _the world is crucified to me, and
I unto the world_?

And how blind and weak must we be, if we can think that we _may_
live in a spirit and temper, which could not possibly be the spirit
and temper of Christ and his apostles?


XXXI. *Another pretence for worldly care and labour after riches, is
to provide for our families.

You want to leave fortunes to your children, that they may have their
share in the _figure_ and _shew_ of the world. Now consider, do you do
this on principles of religion, as the best thing you can do, either
for yourself or them?

Can you then be said, to have chosen the _one thing needful_ for
yourself, or the _one thing needful_ for them, who take such care to
put them in a state of life, that is a _snare_ and a _temptation_, and
the most likely of all others, to fill their minds with _foolish and
hurtful lusts_?

Is it your kindness toward them that puts you upon this labour?
Consider therefore what this kindness is founded upon? Perhaps it
is such a kindness as when _tender_ mothers carry their daughters
to _plays_ and _balls_: such a kindness as when _indulgent_ fathers
support their sons in all the expence of their follies. Such _kind_
parents may more properly be called the _betrayers_ and _murderers_
of their children.

You love your children, and therefore you would have them rich. It is
said of our blessed Saviour, that he loved the _young rich_ man that
came unto him, and therefore he bid him _sell all_ that he had. What a
contrariety is here? The love which dwelleth in you, is as contrary to
the love which dwelt in Christ as darkness is to light.

We have our Saviour’s express command, to love one another, _as he
loved us_. And can you think you are following this love, when you
are giving those things to your children, which he took away from
his friends, and which he could not possibly have given them without
contradicting the greatest part of his doctrines?


XXXII. *But suppose you succeed in your designs, and leave your
children rich, what must you say to them when you are dying? Will you
then tell them that you have the same opinion of the value of riches
you ever had; that you feel the pleasure of remembring how much
thought and care you have taken to acquire them? Will you tell them
that you have provided for their ease and softness, their pleasure
and indulgence and figure in the world; and that they cannot do better
than to eat and drink and take their fill of such enjoyments as riches
afford? This would be dying like an _Atheist_.

If you would die like a Christian, must you not endeavour to fill
their minds with your dying thoughts? Must you not tell them that very
soon the world will signify no more to them than it does to you? And
that there is a _vanity_, a _littleness_ in the things of this life,
which only dying men feel as they ought?

Will you not tell them, that all your own failings, the irregularity
of your life, the folly of your tempers, and your failure of Christian
perfection, has been owing to wrong opinions of the value of worldly
things? And that if you had always seen the world in the same light
that you see it now, your life had been devoted to God, and you would
have lived in all those holy tempers and heavenly affections in which
you now desire to die?

Will you not tell them, that riches spent upon ourselves, either in
the pleasures of _ease_ and _indulgence_, in the vanity of dress,
or in state and grandeur, are the bane and destruction of our souls,
making us blindly content with _dreams_ of happiness, till death
awakes us into _real_ misery?

From all this therefore it appears, that your kindness for your
children is so far from being a good reason why you should so
carefully labour to leave them rich, and in the enjoyment of the state
and shew of the world; that if you die in a spirit of piety, if you
love them as Christ loved his disciples, your kindness will oblige
you to exhort them to renounce all such enjoyment of riches, as is
contrary to those holy tempers and that heavenly affection which you
now find to be the only good and happiness of human nature.




                              CHAP. III.


_CHRISTIANITY calleth all men to a state of self-denial and
mortification._

I. It would be strange to suppose, that mankind were redeemed by the
sufferings of the Son of God, to live in ease and softness themselves,
without any suffering or cross at all!

Are we not all to die? Does God then unmake and dash our very
form into pieces; and can we think that a life of pleasure and
self-indulgence can become us under such a sentence?


II. *_If any man will come after me_, saith Christ, _let him deny
himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me_.

To shew that this belongs to all Christians, St. _Luke_ saith, _He
said unto them_ All: St. _Mark_ hath it thus; _and when he had called
the people unto him, with his disciples also, he said unto them_.

Let us now suppose that Christian churches are full of _fine, gay_
people, who spend their time in all the pleasures and indulgences
which the spirit of the world can invent.

Can it be said of such, that they are _denying themselves, and taking
up their cross daily_? May they not with as much regard to truth be
said, to live _in sackcloth and ashes_? Or can they who live in all
the scenes of pleasure be said, to be _working out their salvation
with fear and trembling_? May they not as justly be said, to be
walking bare-foot to _Jerusalem_?


III. Several instances of this self-denial and daily cross, are to be
seen in the following words.

_Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a
tooth for a tooth. But I say unto you, that you resist not evil; but
whosoever will smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other
also; and if any man will sue thee at the law and take away thy coat,
let him have thy cloak also: and whosoever shall compell thee to go
with him a mile, go with him twain._

We are to deny ourselves then in not demanding _an eye for an eye, or
a tooth for a tooth_. We are to take up our daily cross, by _turning
our cheek_ to the smiter, and suffering such ill usage as we could
prevent by resistance.

We are to take up the cross of one injury after another, rather than
revenge ourselves.

The words that deliver this doctrine are so plain and express, that
they need no illustration: And it is as plain, that they equally
belong to all Christians of all ages. The manner of our Saviour’s
delivering them, puts it out of all question, that these were to be
the perpetual marks of his followers.

_Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye_, &c. _But I
say unto you that ye resist not evil._

It was not possible for our Lord to express himself in a more
authoritative manner, or to shew us more plainly, that he was here
acting as the great lawgiver of Christians, and delivering perpetual
laws to all his disciples. Nor is it possible for any one to evade the
literal meaning of these doctrines, but by such a way as must destroy
the sense of any other part of scripture.


IV. If it could be shewn that we are not obliged by the plain doctrine
of these passages, it might as well be shewn that the next doctrine,
_But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you_,
does not oblige us in the plain and literal sense of the words.

For both the passages are supported by the same authority expressed
in the same manner, _I say unto you_. These virtues are likewise
necessary to one another: we cannot thus love and do good to our enemy,
unless we are thus patient under sufferings, and deny ourselves all
instances of anger and resentment at them.


V. If these doctrines seem grievous, they can only seem so to such as
have wrong notions of human life.

Too many imagine this life to be something that is valuable for its
own goods; and look upon religion as something that is added to it,
to make a worldly life more easy, regular and happy: And so embrace
religion only as it complies with the ease and order of that way of
life in which they live.

Our Saviour has fully confuted this opinion, by teaching us, that
there is but _one thing needful_. If then we can take his word, the
grievousness of self-denial is struck off at once.

For what though meekness and patience may make us sufferers; yet if by
such sufferings we lose only such things as are _not needful_ for us,
where is any ground for complaint?


VI. But farther, such sufferings not only do us no real hurt, but they
are blessings and matter of solid joy.

_Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall
say all manner of evil of you ♦falsely for my sake. Rejoice and be
exceeding glad; for great is your reward in heaven._

    ♦ ‘falsly’ replaced with ‘falsely’

Christ does not comfort us in this, as if it were an _hard_ or
_melancholy_ state, which we _must_ bear, because it is made easier
by patience. But he looks at it in quite another view, not as needing
comfort, but affording matter of congratulation.

What Christians then are they, who reckon those things among the
hardships of religion, which Christ recommends to us as reasons of
_rejoicing_, yea of being _exceeding glad_?


VII. The whole of the matter is this: if our sufferings, our injuries
or hardships be such as we undergo, because we dare not depart from
that meekness and patience, and charity, which Christ hath taught;
because we had rather love our enemies than be revenged on them;
rather suffer like Christ, and be full of his Spirit, than avoid
sufferings by a contrary temper; such sufferings are our greatest
gains.

Now, be these sufferings what they will, if they make us more like
Christ, they have done more for us than all the prosperity in the
world can do. And he that defends himself at the expence of any temper,
that was the temper of Christ, has done himself an injury greater than
the most powerful of his enemies can bring upon him.

And all this turns on one point, that there is but _one thing needful_,
the salvation of our souls. It is this that changes the nature of all
human things, and makes every thing good or evil, only so far as it
promotes or hinders this _one end_ of life. The salvation of the world
is the only happiness of the world: and he that has secured his share
in that, has secured to himself all the joy and gladness that can
befal human nature.

A Christian therefore that is not content with salvation, that would
add a worldly joy to the great things of religion, is more senseless
than a man that would not be content to be saved from a _shipwreck_,
unless he was carried off upon a _cedar plank_.


VIII. Before I proceed to other instances of self-denial, it may be
proper to shew the reasonableness of it.

God is reason and wisdom itself. As sure therefore as there is a God,
so sure it is that a religion from God has only reasonable commands.
God can only will that reasonable creatures should be more reasonable,
more perfect and like himself: and consequently can enjoin no duties
but such as have this tendency; all his commands are founded on the
necessities of our natures, and are only so many instructions to
become more happy than we could be without them.


IX. *Now let us apply this. If a person were to walk upon a _rope_
across some great river, and he was bid to deny himself the pleasure
of walking in _silver shoes_, or looking about at the beauty of the
waves, or listening to the noise of sailors: if he was commanded to
deny himself the advantage of _fishing_ by the way, would there be any
thing unreasonable in such self-denial?

_Straight is the gate_, saith our Lord, and _narrow is the way that
leadeth unto life_. Now, if Christians are to walk in a narrow way
that leadeth to eternal life, it must be the part of a Christian to
deny himself all those things which may stop him in, or lead him out
of this narrow way. And if they think that pleasing their senses, and
worldly indulgences, are consistent with their keeping in this narrow
way, they think as reasonably as if the man upon the _rope_ should
think that he might safely use _silver shoes_, or stop in his way to
_catch fish_.


X. The plain case is this: Christians are called from a state of sin
and disorder, to a state of holiness and resemblance of the divine
nature. If therefore there are any things or ways of life, that
corrupt our minds, support our vanity, increase the disorder of our
souls, or nourish sinful affections; all these are as necessarily to
be avoided, as it is necessary to be holy.

If indeed (to instance in one point only) there are no indulgences
in _eating_, that do us harm, then it might be said, _fasting_ is of
no use: But if there are, if all indulgences of this sort, inslave
the soul, and give it a sensual taste, then we are as much obliged to
abstain from what does us this harm, as we are obliged to _pray_ for
any thing which can do us good.


XI. Eating and drinking are the common supports of life. But as they
are the supports of a corrupt life, the nourishment of a disordered
body that weighs down the soul; whose appetites are in a state of
enmity with the life and purity of the soul; it is necessary that we
take care so to support the life of the body, as not to occasion the
sickness and death of the soul.

The difference between the same man full and fasting, is often almost
the difference of two persons; a man that in the morning finds himself
fit for any meditation, is after a full meal changed into another
creature, fit only for idle amusements or the yawnings of an animal.

He has not only created a dulness in his soul, but has perverted
its taste: for he can be pleased with a _romance_, or _impertinent_
history, while he has no relish for a book of devotion.

This shews, that _fasting_ has a nearer relation to all _religious_
tempers than is generally thought; and that full feeding not only
dulls the mind, but more particularly gives it a dulness towards the
things of religion.


XII. *Indeed every indulgence of the body in eating and drinking, is
adding to its power over the soul.

A man that makes every day a day of _full_ and _chearful_ meals, will
by degrees make the happiness of every day depend upon it, and
consider every thing with regard to it.

He will go to _church_ or stay at home, as it suits with his _dinner_,
and not scruple to tell you, that he generally eats too heartily to go
to afternoon service.

Now such people are under a worse disorder than the _jaundice_, and
have their sight more perverted than he that sees all things _yellow_.

For what discernment have they, who have more taste for the
preparations of the _kitchen_, than for the comforts of the house of
God: who chuse rather to make themselves _unfit_ for divine service,
than to baulk the pleasure of a _full meal_?

Can they think they have the Spirit of Christ who are thus enslaved to
_gluttony_? Or can they be said, to have forsaken all to follow him,
who will not so much as forsake _half a meal_ for the worship of God?


XIII. I know it will be thought too severe to call that _gluttony_,
because it is the practice of numbers of people of _worth_ and
_reputation_. But I hope they will turn their dislike of the name into
a dislike of the thing: for ’tis as certainly _gluttony_ as picking of
pockets is stealing.

The sin of gluttony is the sin of over-eating. Now this may be
difficult to state exactly in some cases. But he that owns he eats so
much as renders him _indisposed_ for the public worship of God, has
determined against himself, and put his own case out of all question.

Men may fancy, they are only guilty of _gluttony_, who eat till
they _surfeit_ their bodies. They may think those only guilty of
_drunkenness_, who drink till they have lost their senses. But there
is a much surer rule to go by; _whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever
ye do, do all to the glory of_ God. All therefore in eating and
drinking that is not to the glory of God, is offered to something
that is not the glory of God; it is offered to the corruption and
sensuality of our natures. It is the sin of intemperance; and is
indevotion too, when indulged at a time that keeps us from the public
worship of God.


XIV. *Indeed a constant course of full feeding is the death of the
soul, and every day that is a day of such happiness, is a day lost to
religion.

When a man has rejoiced himself with full eating and drinking, he
is like any other animal, disposed only to _play_ or _idleness_. He
has no more feeling of sin than he has of _hunger_, and can no more
perceive himself to be a _miserable fallen_ creature, than he can
perceive himself to be a _beggar_.

For this course of sensual enjoyments, is as contrary to a true sense
of sin, as it is contrary to a state of _beggary and want_; and a man
in such happiness, can no more feel the _weight of sin_, than he can
feel himself in the _misery of poverty_.


XV. I know some object, that fasting is not an _universal_ duty; but
fit for some particular cases, and particular constitutions.

To this I answer, if by fasting you mean an entire abstinence from
food, for such a space of time, in this sense it is not an universal
duty.

But this is quite a wrong notion of it. For the fasting whereof I
speak is not any _fixed degree_ of abstinence from all food: but,
such an exercise of abstinence and self-denial as is proper to every
one’s particular state.

Now in this sense fasting is as constant and universal a duty as
repentance.

For as repentance is an _universal_ duty, because the reason of it
is common to all men; so is fasting, because sensuality, and fleshly
lusts, is the _universal_ corruption of all men.

It is no _fixed degree_ of sorrow that is the common repentance of
all men. It is no _fixed form_ or _length_ or _hour_ of prayer, that
is the common devotion of all men. Yet are these _ constant_ and
_universal_ duties.

In like manner, though fasting be subject to all the same variations,
yet is it a _constant_ and _universal_ duty.


XVI. *_Justus_ is a grave, sober man. He is very angry at those who
neglect fasting. He thinks they know nothing of religion.

But presently after, _Justus_ will tell you, that he never fasts but
on _Good Friday_, and the 30th of _January_.

If _Justus_ had lived before the murder of King _Charles_, he had had
but one fast in the year. Yet in all likelihood he would then have
stood up for the _doctrine_ of fasting.

If a man was to be angry at those who neglect the service of the
church, as people that know nothing of religion, and then tell you,
that he himself never goes thither but on _Good Friday_, and the 30th
of _January_, you would say, that he knew nothing of the nature of
church service.

Now _Justus_ shews the same ignorance of the nature of _ fasting_.

If prayer and repentance and the service of the church, were not
common acts of devotion, and necessary ways of worshipping God, they
would not be necessary on _Good Friday_.

In like manner, unless fasting was a common and necessary part of
religion, it would neither be necessary nor acceptable on those
particular days.

For it is not the day that makes the duty to be necessary. But the day
happens to be a proper occasion of exercising a necessary duty.


XVII. If _Justus_ was to say, that he never _repents_ but on those
public days, he might as easily defend himself as when he says, he
only fasts but at those times.

For, is there any benefit in fasting at those times? Does it add any
thing to your piety and devotion? Does it calm your mind and put you
into a better state for prayer, than when you take your usual meals?
If it has not something of this effect, where is the use of it at any
time? And if it has this effect, how comes it that you will have but
one or two such days in the year? Why will you not thus assist your
devotions, thus calm your mind, thus raise your heart, ’till the _day_
comes on which King _Charles_ was murdered? Is not this like staying
till then before you repent?


XVIII. Farther; when the disciples of our Lord could not cast the
evil spirit out of a man that was a _lunatic_, he not only tells
them, it was for want of faith, but also gives them a very important
instruction in those words, _Howbeit this kind goeth not out, but by
prayer and fasting_. Matt. xvii. 21.

Now, does this look as if fasting were designed only for a day or two
in the year? Is it ranked with prayer, as being equally prevalent with
God? And is not this sufficient to teach us, that we must think of
fasting as we think of prayer; that it is a proper way of devotion, a
right method of applying to God? And if that prayer is most prevailing
which is attended with fasting, it is proof enough surely, that
fasting is to be a common part of our devotion.

Is it powerful enough, by the blessing of God, to cast out devils, and
cure lunatics? And shall we neglect it, when we pray against the evil
tempers which possess our hearts? Shall we not then pray to God in the
most powerful prevailing manner that we can?

*If we were to fast without praying, would not this be a way of
worship of our own invention? And if we pray and neglect fasting, is
it not equally chusing a worship of our own? For he that has taught
us the use and advantage of prayer, has also taught us the use and
advantage of fasting. And has likewise joined them together, as having
the same power with God.


XIX. *We may also observe, that the reason of self-denial and
abstinence is perpetual, because we are perpetually united to a body,
that is more or less fit to join with the soul in acts of holiness,
according to the state it is in.

It is therefore absolutely necessary that we avoid every degree of
indulgence, every kind of irregularity, that may make our bodies less
_active_ or less fit for the purpose of a holy life.

Christian temperance is no more that which passes for temperance in
the sight of men, than Christian charity is that which passes for
charity in the world.

A worldly man may think himself temperate, when he only abstains from
such excesses as may make him fitter to enjoy a healthful _sensuality_.

But Christian temperance is of quite another kind, and for other ends.
It is to keep the body in a state of purity and submission, and to
preserve in the soul a divine and heavenly taste.


XX. It is out of all question, that there are some states of body
fitter for virtue than others.

This is as certain as that _gluttony_ and _drunkenness_ dispose men to
all sorts of sins, and give them a disrelish for all sorts of holiness.
For as these vices have the utmost contrariety to religion, so every
_approach_ towards them is, in a certain degree, partaking of them.

A man that lives so as not to be called either a _glutton_ or a
_drunkard_, may yet be so near them, as to partake of those tempers
which are the effects of _gluttony_ and _drunkenness_.

*As a man may be vain and uncharitable, yet not so as to be remarkable
for his vanity and uncharitableness, so he may be under the guilt and
evil effects of eating and drinking, though not so as to be esteemed
either a glutton or intemperate.

*So that a wise Christian will constantly practise such abstinence,
as may not only secure him from sensuality in the sight of the world,
but as best suits with a body which is the holy habitation of a soul
devoted to God.


XXI. St. _Paul_ saith, _I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so
fight I, not as one that beateth the air. But I keep under my body,
and bring it into subjection, lest that by any means, when I have
preached to others, I myself should be a castaway._ 1 Cor. ix.

Let it be observed, that the apostle practised this self-denial, not
only as a good and advisable thing, but as of the last necessity.
It was not, as he was an _apostle_, and that he might be fitter for
the miraculous gifts of the Holy Ghost: but it was, to secure his
salvation, and _lest when he had preached to others, he should himself
be a castaway_.

*Let it be considered, that this apostle, who lived _in infirmities,
in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses_ for
Christ’s sake, who was also full of _signs and wonders, and mighty
deeds_, and who had been _caught up into the third heavens_; yet
reckons all his virtues as insecure, and his salvation in danger,
without this constantly continued course of universal self-denial. Nay
he thought all his advancements in piety, without this, to be as vain
a labour as _beating the air_.

_So run I_, says he, _not as uncertainly_; by which he plainly
teacheth us, that he who does not thus run, who does not thus
continually _keep the body under, does run uncertainly, and fighteth_
to as little purpose as he _that beateth the air_.

An apostle preaching the gospel with _signs and wonders_, in the midst
of distress and persecution, thought his own salvation in danger,
without this subjection of his body. And shall we think it safe to
feed to the full, and indulge our bodies in ease and plenty?


XXII. *There are no truths more plainly delivered in scripture
than these two, _the general corruption_ of human nature, and the
_absolute necessity_ of divine grace. Now these make the necessity of
a continual self-denial plain and obvious to the meanest capacity; and
extend it to all those things and enjoyments which either strengthen
the _corruption_ of our nature, or _grieve the Holy Spirit of_ God,
and cause him to depart from us.

Whoever reflects on these, will soon be convinced, that all those
enjoyments are to be abstained from, which either support our natural
corruption, or hinder the inspirations of the Holy Spirit.

He will find also, that this self-denial must extend itself to every
day of our lives, unless he can find a day, which offers nothing
suitable to the corruption of his nature, or nothing contrary to the
good motions of the Holy Ghost.


XXIII. Most people acknowledge this in general: that we ought to avoid
what strengthens our corruptions and _grieves_ the Spirit of God: but
then they think to abstain from gross sin is sufficient for this.

But let such consider, that a _dropsy_ or a _gangrene_, is not only
increased by drunkenness, but by every little indulgence that suits
with it.

Now the corruption of our nature is an inbred distemper that possesses
us in the manner of a dropsy or gangrene. If we give into notorious
sins, it quite overcomes us, and we are straightway dead in sin.

*But tho’ we keep clear of great offences, yet if we indulge ourselves
in little things that suit with the corruption of our nature, we
certainly nourish a slow death, and destroy ourselves by degrees.

Our self-denial therefore must be as _universal_ as the means of our
corruption. It is to last as long as our disorder, and to extend
itself to every thing that might increase it. And this for as plain
a reason as a man in a dropsy is not only to abstain from drunkenness,
but from every indulgence that increases his disorder.


XXIV. *Let it be farther considered, that the corruption of our nature
is but faintly represented by comparing it to these distempers. For
one in these distempers may have only some part affected; but the
corruption of our nature is as extensive as our nature. It is the
corruption of every faculty and every power. It is blindness in
our understandings; it is self-love and perverseness in our wills,
intemperance in our ♦appetites. It is anger, lust, pride and revenge
in our passions; it is falseness, hypocrisy, malice and hatred in
our hearts. Now all this, and far more than this, makes the miserable
corruption of human nature.

    ♦ ‘appeties’ replaced with ‘appetites’

So that it is as necessary that our lives be a state of _regimen_,
contrary to this variety of disorders, as it is necessary for a
man under a complication of distempers, to observe a _course_ of
regularity.

For seeing all ill tempers are increased by indulgence, and the more
we yield to any, the stronger it grows, ’tis plain we must practise as
many sorts of self-denial as we have ill tempers to contend with.


XXV. *When we speak of self-denial, we are apt to confine it to eating
and drinking: but we ought to consider, that these are the easiest and
smallest instances of it. Pride, vanity, self-love, covetousness, envy,
and other inclinations of the like nature, call for a more constant
and watchful self-denial, than the appetites of hunger and thirst.

*’Till therefore our self-denial is as universal as our corruption;
’till we deny ourselves all degrees of vanity and folly, as earnestly
as we deny ourselves all degrees of drunkenness; till we reject all
sorts of pride and envy, as we abhor all kinds of gluttony; till
we watch and deny all irregular tempers, as we avoid all sorts of
sensuality, we can no more be said to practise self-denial, that
he can be said to be just, who only denies himself the liberty of
stealing.

And till we do thus universally deny ourselves, our lives will be a
_ridiculous mixture_ of I know not what; _sober_ and covetous, proud
and _devout_, _temperate_ and vain, _regular_ in our forms of prayer,
and irregular in our passions, circumspect in _little modes_ of
behaviour, and careless of tempers the most essential to piety.


XXVI. A little attention to that great principle of _reason and
religion_, that God is our only good, will convince us still farther
of the necessity of universal self-denial.

For what can be a greater self-denial, or more contradictory to
all our natural sentiments, than to live and govern ourselves by a
happiness that is to be had in God alone? A happiness which our senses,
our old guides, neither see, nor feel, nor taste, nor perceive: a
happiness which gives us neither figure, nor dignity, nor power, nor
glory, among one another?

Look at man in his natural state, acting by the judgment of his senses,
following the motions of his nature; and you will see him acting as if
the world was full of infinite sorts of happiness.

He has not only a thousand imaginary pleasures, but has found out as
many vexations; all which shew, that he thinks _happiness_ is every
where to be found. For no one is vexed at any thing, unless he thinks
he is disappointed of some possible happiness.

A happiness therefore in God alone, is the greatest contradiction
to all our natural tempers. Not only as it proposes a good which our
senses cannot relish, but as it leads us from all those imaginary
enjoyments on which our senses have fixed our hearts.


XXVII. If then we think of religion, without self-denial, we know
nothing at all of it. For its whole nature is, to direct us by a
light and knowledge and wisdom from God, which is all contrary to
the darkness, ignorance and folly of our natures.

It is therefore altogether impossible for any man to enter into the
spirit of religion, but by denying himself, by being divested of all
his _natural tempers_ and judgments, which have been formed by the
blind motions of flesh and blood, and strengthened by the example and
authority of the world. He cannot walk in the light of God, unless
he reject the _dreams_ of his senses, and the _darkness_ of worldly
wisdom.

*We may let our senses tell us, what we are to _eat_ and _drink_, or
when we are to sleep. We may let them teach us, how near we may draw
to a _fire_, how great a _burden_ we may carry, or into how deep a
_water_ we may go. In these things they are our proper guides.

But if we appeal to them to know the _true good_ of man, or the proper
happiness of our rational nature; if we ask them what _guilt_ there is
in sin, or what _excellence_ there is in piety; if we consult them as
guides in these matters, we act full as absurdly as if we were to try
to _hear_ with our _eyes_, or to _see_ with our _ears_.


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

We judge of every thing in the same manner as the child judges of his
_play things_. It is by our _senses_ alone we pass the judgment, tho’
we think we act with the _reason of man_.

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

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

But the misfortune is, that we laugh at the _little_ pleasures, _poor_
designs, and _trifling_ satisfactions of children; while at the same
time the _wisdom_ and _greatness_ of men, is visibly taken up with the
_same trifles_.

A _coach_ and _six_ and an _embroidered suit_, shall make a great
_statesman_ as happy, as ever a _go-cart_ and _feather_ made a child.

Ask a child, what he thinks he would do with a great sum of money? Why,
he would buy twenty _little horses_, he would have twenty _fine coats_,
see all _fine sights_, and the like.

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

And whence is this, but from hence, that men act with the same
_vanity_ of mind, are under the same _poor guidance_ of their senses,
are as ignorant of their _true happiness_, as great strangers to their
own nature, as when they first set out in life.

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


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

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

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

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

A _silent envy_, a _secret vanity_, which no body sees, disorders our
judgments in the same manner as more _violent_ passions.

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


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

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

Some people have indulged themselves so long in _dressing_, others
in _play_, others in _sports_ of the field, others only in little
_gossiping stories_, that they are as much slaves to these, as the
intemperate man to liquor.

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

*You think it shameful to be an _epicure_, or to be fond of _liquor_.
You are very right: but then proceed a step further, and think it as
shameful to be fond of _dress_, or delighted with _yourself_, or to
be fond of _dainties_: and that it is as great a sin, to please any
corrupt _temper_, as to please your _palate_. Remember, that blood
heated with any _passion_, is like blood heated with _liquor_, and
that the grossness of gluttony is no greater a contrariety to religion,
than the politeness of pride or vanity.

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

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




                              CHAP. IV.


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

I. I come now to another great doctrine of our religion, namely, the
_absolute necessity of divine grace_: which is another constant reason
for universal _self-denial_.

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

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

  ¹ John iii. 8.


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


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

We are used to consider those only as _inspired_ persons, who are
called by God to some _extraordinary_ designs. In this sense there
have been but few inspired persons; but inspiration, as it signifies
an _invisible operation_, or _assistance_ of God’s Holy Spirit, is
the privilege of all Christians: in this sense they are all _inspired
persons. Know ye not_, saith St. _Paul_, _that your body is the temple
of the Holy Ghost, which is in you?_ St. _John_ likewise, _Hereby know
we that he dwelleth in us, by the Spirit, which he hath given us. For
as many as are led by the Spirit of_ God, _are the Sons of_ God, _and
if any man hath not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.¹_ From
these, and many other passages it is plain, that the life which we now
live, is a life in and by the Spirit of God; and that they are only
Sons of God, who are led by this Spirit. Now this doctrine plainly
proves the necessity of a constant self-denial; for it must be
necessary that we deny ourselves all those tempers, and ways of life,
which may make God _withhold_ his grace from us; and likewise all
those enjoyments and indulgences, which may make us _less able_ and
_less disposed_ to improve and co-operate with those degrees of divine
grace that are communicated to us.

  ¹ Rom. viii. 11.


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

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


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


VI. *’Tis acknowledged by all, that a life of _intemperance_ and
_debauchery_, makes us dead and senseless of religion: but then it is
not enough considered that the _vanity_ of the mind, an understanding
busied in _trifles_, an _impertinent course of life_, will as
certainly produce the _same effect_. If our understanding is full of
foolish imaginations, if we are devoted to trifles, religion can gain
no entrance. A man may be so earnest in _picking straws_, as to have
no leisure to think of his salvation; nor any more inclination to it,
than one that is constantly in _drink_.

Thus poor _amusements_, vain _arts_, useless _sciences_, impertinent
_learning_, false _satisfaction_, a wrong turn _of mind_, a state
of _idleness_, or any the vainest _trifles_ of life, may keep men
at as great a distance from true religion, as the debaucheries of
intemperance.


VII. *_Titius_ is temperate and regular: but then he is so great a
_mathematician_, that he does not know when Sunday comes: he sees
people going to _church_ as he sees others going to _market_; he goes
on studying, measuring, and calculating, and may as well be called a
_merchant_ as a _Christian_.

All doctrines of religion are disagreeable to _Philo_; he avoids them
as he avoids _party_: now what is the reason of it? It is not because
he is _debauched_ and _intemperate_. But he is a _virtuoso_, devoted
to polite _literature_. His soul is extended to all the _curiosities_
in the world, and thinks all time to be lost that is not spent in
the search of _shells, urns, inscriptions_, and _broken pieces of
pavements_. This makes the concerns of _eternity_ seem small things in
his eyes, fit only for the enquiry of _narrow, little_, and _unpolite_
souls.

_Eusebius_ would read prayers _twice_ a day in his _parish_; he would
be often with the poor and sick, and spend much time in charitable
visits; he would be wholly taken up with the _care_ of souls, but
that he is busy in studying the _old grammarians_, and would fain
_reconcile_ some differences amongst them before he dies.


VIII. _Lycia_ might be pious; but that she is too _easy, gay_, and
_chearful_, to admit of care of any kind. She can no more _repent_,
than she can be _out of temper_, and must be the same _sparkling,
chearful_ creature in the _church_, as in the _play-house_. She
might be capable of understanding the misery of human nature, and the
necessity of the comforts of religion; but that she is so happy every
time she is _dressed_.

_Matrona_ is old, and has been these _fifty years_ eating and drinking,
sleeping and waking, dressing and undressing, _paying_ and _receiving
visits_. She has no prophaneness; and, if she has no piety, it is
owing to this, that she never had a _spare half-hour_ to think about
it. She envies her daughters, because they will _dress_ and _visit_
when she is dead.

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

_Siccus_ has been all his life long _building_ and _ pulling down_,
making _canals_ and _ditches_, raising _walls_ and _fences_. People
call him a good man, because he employs the poor: _Siccus_ might have
been a _religious_ man, but that he thought _building_ was the chief
happiness of a rational creature. He is all the week amongst _dirt_
and _mortar_, and stays at home on _Sundays_ to view his contrivances.
He will die more contentedly, if his death does not happen whilst some
_wall_ is in building.


IX. I have mentioned these several _characters_ to shew, that it
is not only _prophaneness, debauchery_, and _open vices_, that
keep men from the impressions of true religion; but that the mere
_play-things_ of life, impertinent _studies_, vain _amusements_, false
_satisfactions_, idle _dispositions_, will produce the same effect.
A _wrong_ turn of mind, _impertinent cares_, a succession of the
_poorest trifles_, if they take up our thoughts, leave no more room
for true piety than gross sensuality.


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

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


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


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


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

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


XIV. Some persons will perhaps refrain from _grief_, when they find
that it hurts their _eyes_; they will avoid _passion_ and _anger_ if
it ends in pains of the head; but they would do well to consider that
these tempers are to be abstained from, upon much greater accounts.
Passion may disorder our bodies, waste our spirits, and leave pains in
our _heads_; but it leaves greater marks of injury in our better parts,
as it throws us into a state of madness, and _banishes_ the Holy
Spirit of peace, and gentleness, and _prepares_ us for the suggestions
of the spirit of darkness. _Grief_ may hurt our _eyes_, but it much
more hurts our _souls_, as it sinks them into a state of gloom and
darkness, which _expels_ and _quenches_ the Spirit of God; for light
may as well unite with darkness, as the Spirit of God dwell with the
gloomy dulness and horror of stupid grief. What I have observed of
these two passions, ought to be concluded of every other _passion_
and _temper_; we are to consider it as it _suits_ with, or _resists_
that new Spirit, by whose motions we are to be preserved in a state of
holiness.


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


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

  ¹ Ephes. iv. 29.


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

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


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


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


XX. Farther, as we are not of a _religious spirit_, till it orders all
our conversation; so it is to be observed, that if our conversation
is vain and foolish, it keeps us in a state incapable of religion,
by _grieving_ the _Holy Spirit_. And as we can do nothing without the
Spirit of God, as he is our _breath_, our _life_, our _light_, and our
_strength_; so, if we live in such a way as _grieves_ and _removes_
this Holy Spirit from us, we are as branches that are broke off from
the tree, and must perish in the deadness and corruption of our nature.
Let this therefore teach us to judge rightly of the sin and danger of
_vain, unedifying_ and _corrupt_ communication; it is not the sin of
_idleness_ or _negligence_ only; it is not a _pardonable infirmity_;
it is not a _little mistake_ in spiritual wisdom; but it is a sin
that stands between us and the _tree_ of life; that opposes our whole
happiness, as it _grieves_ and _separates_ the Holy Spirit from us.
Let this also teach some people the reason why they are so _dead_
and _senseless_ of religion: they are not guilty of gross sins; they
have an aversion to _cheating_ and _falseness_; but at the same time
have no more feeling or sense of religion than mere _reprobates_.
Now the reason of it is this; they live in such an _impertinence_ of
conversation; their communication is so constantly upon _silly_ and
_vain_ subjects; and they are so fond of those who have the talent of
conversing in the same manner, that they render themselves _unfit_ for
the residence of the Holy Spirit. We don’t seem to apprehend, either
how much _good_ or how much _evil_ there is in conversation; I believe
it may be affirmed that the greatest instructions, and the greatest
corruptions proceed from it. For mens common conversation and ordinary
life teach much more effectually than any thing they say or do at set
times or occasions.

When a clergyman preaches, he is for the most part considered as doing
that which all clergymen do, whether _good_ or _bad_. But if he is
the same wise and virtuous man in his communication, that he is in the
_pulpit_; if his speech be always _seasoned with salt_, that it may
_minister grace unto the hearers_; if the _common_ actions of his life
be visibly governed by a spirit of piety: such a one will be heard
with reverence on the _Sunday_ for what he says and does all the
week. And on the contrary, if a _clergyman_, when he comes out of
the _pulpit_, is but like other men; as _irregular_ in his tempers;
as _trifling_ in his conversation; as _eager_ in his diversions; and
as _vain_ in his designs; he will mightily lessen his power over the
hearts of his hearers.

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


XXI. It is our communication, our _ordinary temper_ and _common life_,
that affects other people, that either hardens them in sin, or awakens
them to a sense of piety. Let therefore all _clergymen_, and _masters_
and _mistresses_ of families look carefully to themselves; let them
consider, that if their _ordinary life_, their communication be _vain,
impertinent_, and _unedifying_, they are not only in a corrupt state
of heart, but are guilty of corrupting and perverting the hearts
of those that belong to them. Let them not think that they have
sufficiently discharged their duty, by seeing that those who relate
to them, have their proper instructions; for it is next to impossible
for such instructions to have their proper effect against the example
of those we converse with. If a _clergyman plays_, and _drinks_, and
_sports_ with his flock in the week days: let him not wonder if he
preaches them asleep on _Sundays_. If a _father_ is _intemperate_; if
he _swears_, and converses _foolishly_ with his friends; let him not
wonder that his children cannot be made virtuous. It is therefore
the necessary duty of all Christians, in all states of life, to look
carefully to their _ordinary behaviour_, that it be not the means
of poisoning and corrupting the hearts of those they converse with.
They must consider, that all the follies and impertinences of their
ordinary life and conversation have the guilt of destroying souls;
and that the blood of those whom their follies have destroyed, will
be required at their hands.


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


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




                               CHAP. V.


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

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


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

The books which mostly corrupt our hearts, and fill us with a spirit
of folly, are such as almost all the world allow themselves to
read; I mean books of _wit_ and _humour, romances, plays_, and other
productions of the _poets_. Thus a _grave orthodox_ old gentleman,
if he hears that his _niece_ is very good, and delights in reading,
will fill her closet with volumes of _plays_ and _poems_ on _several
occasions_, on purpose to encourage her to spend her time well.
There is not perhaps a more surprising infatuation in the conduct of
Christians, than this.


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

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

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

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

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


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

If you must amuse yourself with a volume of _plays_, because you are
laid up with a _broken leg_, or have _lost a friend_, you are as far
from wisdom as a child that is to be made quiet with _a rattle_, and
as far from religion as those who worship _idols_; nay, to seek to
such things for relief and refreshment, is like applying to the devil
_in distress_. A man that drinks _drams_ every time he is dull or
uneasy, is a _wise, prudent_, and _sober_ man, if compared to the
Christian that in seasons of dejection has recourse to _wanton_ wit,
and _prophane_ rant: he destroys the purity of his mind much more
effectually, than the other destroys the health of his body.

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


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


VI. On the contrary, if _men_ will make themselves happy as children
are made happy, not by considering the nature of things, but by a
_change of amusements_, they must also expect to have the vexations of
children, and be, like them, laughing and crying at they know not what,
all the days of their life: for children are only easily vexed because
they are easily pleased; and it is certain that they who can be
pleased with things of no value must in the same degree be liable to
be displeased at them. And as this is the true state of childhood: so
whosoever is in this state, whatever his _age_ may be, his _office_,
or his _dignity_ in life, is yet as truly in the state and folly of
childhood, as he that is but four years old. Take an instance or two:
a child whose heart is half broken at some misfortune, may perhaps be
made easy with a picture of a _huntsman_ and a _pack of hounds_; but
if you would comfort the father that grieves for his eldest son, the
_hounds_ must all be _alive_; they must _cry_, and _run_, and follow
a _hare_; and this will make the father as easy as the picture did the
child.

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


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


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


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

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


X. *We reckon a man sufficiently _mad_ that fancies himself a _king_,
and governing his subjects, at the same time that he is tied on
a bed of _straw_: now a _Christian_ repeats every day, _I believe
the forgiveness of sin, the resurrection of the body, and the life
everlasting_; he thanks God _for the redemption of Jesus Christ, for
the means of grace, and for the hope of glory_. Yet at the same time,
in this state of _greatness_, he fancies himself in a _thousand wants
and miseries_: he cries and labours, and toils for a happiness, that
has no existence but in his _own imagination_; he fancies himself a
_being_ that is to be made happy with sauces and ragous, with _painted
cloaths_ and _shining diamonds_, he is grieved and fretted like a
child at the loss of a _feather_; and must be diverted, as they are,
with _shows_ and _plays_, and imaginary scenes of rant and nonsense.
Now is not such a one _mad_? Does he not know as little of his
_state_, as the man in straw who fancies himself a king? But for a
Christian, in times of dulness or vexation, to seek relief in foolish
amusements, in the loose, wild discourses of _plays_, when he should
_acquaint himself with_ God, _and be at peace_, is a degree of madness
that exceeds all others; it is acting as contrary to the nature of
things, as if a man that had lost the use of his _limbs_, should chuse
to comfort his lameness with _painted shoes_, when he might have the
use of his feet restored. For the consolations of religion relieve
uneasiness and trouble, as a _lame_ man is relieved when his _limbs_
are restored; they conquer grief, not by cheating and deluding the
weakness of our minds, but as the resurrection conquers death, by
restoring us to a new and glorious life.


XI. From these reflections I hope it sufficiently appears, that the
reading vain and impertinent books is no matter of indifferency; but
that it is justly to be reckoned amongst our _greatest corruptions_;
that it is as unlawful as _malice_ and _evil speaking_; and is no more
to be allowed in any part of our life.

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


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


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

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


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

*When you see a _poor creature_ drudging in the meanest offices of
life, and glad of the dirtiest work to get his _bread_, you are apt to
look upon him as a _miserable wretch_; it raises a mixture of pity and
contempt in you; but remember, that every time you see such a person,
you see a more reasonable creature than yourself, and one that is
much more _nobly employed_ than you are. He is acting _conformably_
to the state of human life, and bearing a hard part with patience; he
is doing a work which, mean as it is, will be looked upon as done unto
the Lord; whilst you, idling in _softness_ and _pleasures_, are unable
to bear your time, unless it be stolen away from you by folly and
impertinence. Fancy that you saw a _patient Christian_, old, broken
and crooked, with carrying burthens all his life; fancy that you saw
another Christian lolling in _state_ and _softness_, and making every
day a day of _vanity_ and _foolish reading_; which of them do you
think is most likely to die in the hands of good _angels_, and be
carried into _Abraham_’s bosom?


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

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


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


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

    ♦ ‘It is’ replaced with ‘Is it’


                    The End of the Fourth VOLUME.