I.

AND in the first place let me advise you to bring your self into as great an acquaintance and fami­liarity as ever you can, with unseen and spiritual things; and to make your mind so sensible of them, that they may seem the most real and substantial beings. You easily discern how sutable this Counsel is to the foregoing discourse; and you can tell your self how much of our listlesness and want of spiritual appetite proceeds from hence, that these outward things press continu­ally very hard upon us, and make us feel that they have a being and a solid subsistance: but the other rarely touch us with any force, and so appear as if they were only in our fancy. Our soul seems to us, in our careless thoughts, as if it were but a breath or a thin vapour: But our Body we perceive to be a massy bulk, of whose concerns we are therefore very appre­hensive. [Page 20] The Divine being, though the cause of all others, seems but like a shadow; on whom our Soul having no fast hold, it is no wonder that we rather catch at those things which we can grasp, and feel to have some substance in them. The report of im­mortal life and bliss in heaven comes to us like a common story, of which there is some probability, but no cer­tainty; and that inclines us to close so greedily with the enjoyments of this life, which make more strong im­pressions on our body, than the other on our Spirit. The glass through which we look upon this lower world makes every thing we desire appear exceeding great; nay multiplies and increases it to vast dimensions: but when we cast our eyes upward to­wards our heavenly countrey, alas! things appear there (as if we had turn'd about the perspective) so little; so remote, so like nothing, that we can scarce discern them, or retain any remembrance of them. We have a [Page 21] kind of opinion and half perswasion concerning these inward and intel­lectual objects, but we have a sense and full apprehension of our outward enjoyments. Now though opinion may govern us, and we may follow it while there are no considerable impe­diments to oppose it; yet when any difficulty arises, or something crosses our way to which we stand very much affected, it will soon submit it self and leave us to our new inclina­tions, because it is but an opinion. We must confirm our souls therefore in a full belief of those spiritual things: which thus differs from a bare opinion of them. The one is grounded only upon probable reasons, or on good reason but half considered and feebly assented unto: the other upon clear and manifest evidences, well digested and fully entertained. So that the one leaves us weak and wavering, be­cause it leaves us half in and half out of the arms of Truth: but the other makes us firm, constant and un­moveable, [Page 22] because it puts us com­pleatly and intirely into its embraces.

All those times then which are so favourable, as to let your mind be free and unclog'd, spend some of your retired thoughts in the company of immaterial beings; and approach so near them that you even feel and handle them, and remain perswaded they are no less real than those which you see and hear and touch with your outward man. By which means they will infinitely more engage your af­fections and tie your heart unto them, than any thing else can do; because of the vast disproportion which every one acknowledges (supposing their existence) between them and all that you love in this sensible world.

1. Think first of all, that your Body is but the clothes and garments of your Soul, and that this indeed is the man. And undress your self in your own thoughts, strip your self of these [Page 23] robes, and conceive that you are only a naked Spirit. This you can do; and thereby you will both make your Soul think more of it self, and you will likewise plainly prove it is quite distinct from your body: in whose society though it live, yet is not of its lineage, but of another nature and original: For nothing can think it self not to be, since by its very think­ing so, it proves that it hath a being. But we can quite put off all thoughts that we have this body hanging about us, and the Soul can think it self to be what now it is, though it look not through these eyes, nor speak with this tongue, nor write with these hands, nor have any other thing about it but its own thoughts: And therefore it is not such a thing as this Body, but some better and more noble substance. It is that which tells you that you have a Body. If you believe it, you have reason to believe withal that it self is some other being, of more force and longer continuance: [Page 24] because you can now think you have castoff your body and conceive it lying in the dust, your soul still remaining as it is, full of these and other such like thoughts; but you can never think you have no soul, because even by that conception you prove that you have, and shew your self to be a thoughtful thing.

2. When you have thus therefore discoursed your self into some feeling of your Soul, think in the next place very seriously, that whatsoever you clearly apprehend by this, though it be perceived by none of your out­ward senses, yet is no less real and certain than what you use with them. Disbelieve your eyes, and think that your ears bring you a false report, ra­ther than doubt of any thing which your mind doth plainly and distinctly perceive. Though you cannot but yield an assent to the relation which any of your senses make you, yet since the mind is the more excellent Princi­ple, [Page 25] and it hath a most certain exi­stence, give the greatest credit to what it affirms, when none of them can afford you any evidence.

3. And then you will presently find that your mind asserts nothing so strongly, as the being of a God, without whom it could not be. Per­swade your self therefore as confi­dently of him, as you do of that which your eyes behold. Though your eyes see him not as they do the Sun, yet say to your self, my Soul doth; which gives as sound an evi­dence on his behalf, as my eyes do for the Sun. That great Light, and all the rest of those Globes of Fire, which I see in the Skies, declare him as clearly to my mind, as they do themselves to my outward Sense. I cannot think of them, nor of my self, nor of any thing else in this great World, but a Divine Being presents it self before me; by whose incom­parable wisdom and Almighty good­ness [Page 26] they were at once produced, and set in this beautiful and useful order, in which I behold them. Exhort your self therefore to look about you as often for this end, as you are apt to do for other little purposes, that you may see God in this goodly Temple, which he hath built him­self for his own glory. Set your Soul in that Divine Presence, which fills all things. Open your eares, listen to the wide World, and hear (as Gre­gory Nazianzen excel­lently speaks) that great and admirable Preacher of his Majesty. [...]. Orat. 43. Is it possible, as Athanasius well reasons to come into a great City, consisting of a Multitude of Inhabitants of dif­ferent sorts, great and small, rich an [...] poor, old and young, Men, Wome [...] and Children, Slaves, Souldiers an [...] Tradesmen, and to see all things ordered so handsomely, that every on [...] of these, though opposite in their inclinations, agree and conspire together [Page 27] for the common good, the Rich not grieving the Poor, nor the strong oppressing the weak, nor the young rising up against the aged; Can one possibly, I say, behold all this, and not conclude that there is a wise and po­werful Governour there, though we see him not, by whose Authority they enjoy this happy concord? Why then should we not draw the same Conclusion from the sight of this great World, composed of divers contrary Beings, moving several ways, and to distant ends; but ma­king as good harmony alltogether, as the various strings of a Lute, whose sweet Musick coming to our eares, proves there is some excel­lent Artist,Orat. contra Gentes. (though hid from our eyes) by whom they are tuned and touched? Confu­sion is a sign of anarchy; but order de­monstrates a Governour.

4. If then there be a God, and you feel your self a Being that can subsist [Page 28] and enjoy it self, if he please, with­out a Body; excite in your Soul a most passionate desire to be so happy, that when it quits the place of its present abode, it may approach near­er to his blessed Majesty, and have a clearer sight of his surpassing glory. Put your self in hope also that his Divine Goodness, which hath plan­ted in you such strong inclinations, and filled you with such desires, will not let them want the pleasure of sa­tisfaction. Look up above, and think that when your Spirit shall take its flight from hence, there is some o­ther Company to entertain it in ano­ther World: whose acquaintance is far more desirable than the society of the dearest Friend we have here, who perhaps as soon as he hath gain­ed our love, takes his leave of us, and goes his way thither. What com­fort have we remaining in this, and other innumerable cases, but the hope of Immortality? Which is the only thing that can raise our Spirit [Page 29] above the pleasures and the troubles too of this mortal Body. This is our chiefest good, on which we should set our heart. This is the inheritance to which we are born, (as Lactantius speaks) and for which we are form'd by vertue and piety: the only inhe­ritance, of which we can be secure that we shall never be defeated. For all this World we must leave behind us: we can carry nothing away with us, but an innocent and well-passed life, and the hopes which accompany it. He only comes to God rich and plen­tiful, and abounding in wealth (as his words are) whom continence, mercy, patience, charity and faith, shall attend and conveigh into his Presence.

5. To assure your self therefore of this great good, on which our princi­pal strength and comfort relies, con­sider in the next place, that your mind plainly tells you (and its testi­mony is indubitable) that God must needs be true, and that whatsoever [Page 30] he saith, ought immediately, without any hesitation, to be firmly believed. For as he can never be deceived him­self, so we are sure he cannot de­ceive us.

6. Now God hath been pleased at last to speak to us by his own dear Son, as a voice from Heaven, and a World of mighty deeds have testi­fied.

7. And seeing Jesus hath not only comprised in his Doctrine all the ho­ly wisdome, and all the goodness that ever was thought or spoken of since the beginning of time; but hath likewise added a lively discovery of that state of good things, which the heart of man naturally wishes, and longs for in another World:

8. And seeing, in the last place, God hath confirmed his exceeding great and precious promises of Eter­nal Life, by his Resurrection from [Page 31] the Dead, and his Ascension into Heaven, and the sending of the Holy Ghost: You ought to perswade your self of the truth of these invisible things, and represent them so often to your mind, till they seem no less real and certain, than what you see with your Eyes, and feel with your Hands: Nay, till all the pleasures and delights which the bounty of Heaven gives you in Friends, or any other good things here, seem but as shadowes and faint Images of the better enjoyments which you expect hereafter. Those wise Men, who were guided onely by the light of their own mind, made no greater account of them. And yet all the Philosophers of greatest fame were but little Children compared with Christian People, in the knowledg of this great Point,L. 1. praepar. Cap. 4. as Eu­sebius justly glories. We are not left to gather this truth (as another of the Ancients speaks) from the weak conjectures [Page 32] and imperfect reasonings of our own, Lactant. L. 7. Cap. 8. but we know it from a Divine Tradition. It is deli­vered to us by the Son of God, who hath put an end to all disputes, by coming from Heaven to us, with the Words of Eternal Life. Lay up his Words therefore most carefully in your heart, let them dwell richly and plentifully in you in all wisdom; and possess you at once with a migh­ty sense of God, and of the dignity of your Soul, and of Immortality, and of the Joy of the Invisible World.

The Benefits of this Exercise are so evident, that I may leave you to relate them, when you have felt them. It will be sufficient for me to suggest to you, that the Heart must needs become by this means, very cold and dead to those earthly enjoy­ments, which were wont to bewitch and inchant it with their deceitful Pleasures. If the Soul be cloath­ed (as the Platonists fancied) with [Page 33] as many Garments as there are Ele­ments, through which it passed as it descended into this Body, and if it be so mufled in them that it doth but fumble in its thoughts, and hath much ado to feel it self; hereby it will be able in some measure to de­vest it self of those thick Blankets, wherein it is wrapped, and throw off those heavy coats that dangle a­bout its heeles, and incumber its mo­tions, as it sets its Feet forward to walk toward the Father of its Be­ing. It is no contemptible discourse which their Master makes concerning Felicity;Plato in Phaedone. which he rightly places in the con­templation and love of the Soveraign Good. How that no Man can attain unto it in this Life, by reason of the lumpish matter to which the Soul is fast tyed, and by reason of the mul­titude of Worldly affairs which re­quire our attendance; yea, and of the fancies and toyes that will fill our thoughts, do what we can. [Page 34] Whence he concludes, that either no Man shall be happy, (which he thinks is very absurdly affirmed) or he must arrive at his Happiness after he is dead. And if when we are dead (saith he) the Blessed Time is come, wherein we may enjoy, as we would, that greatest good; then the nearer any Man approaches unto Death, the nearer he comes within the reach of his Felicity. If a Man therefore will with-draw Himself from the World, if he will abstract his mind from sensible things, and take his heart from bodily pleasures, and turn himself into himself (which they judged, as the Holy Writers do, a kind of Death) he shall be in the beginnings of his Happiness. There I know, my Friend, you desire to find your self; and for that cause, I pray you learn thus to steal out of the company of Worldly things, which by hindring us from beginning our Happiness, would keep us in perpe­tual misery. Converse, as often as [Page 35] you can, with your nobler self; and contract an intimate acquaintance with those divine Inhabitants which are lodged there. Grow into an high esteem of that unseen Power, which knows God and the Life to come; which thinks, and guides, and gives orders, desires, and loves, and doth all things else belonging to this Life. And calling to mind continu­ally its worth and dignity, and consi­dering for what heavenly enjoyments it was designed; disdain to let it be condemned to so base a slavery, as to serve the Body only, and make pro­vision for its Lusts and Pleasures. Rescue it from that thraldome, and assert its liberty: which is no such difficult undertaking; since rightly to understand it self, is sufficient for its safety and preservation.

And, to say the truth, the necessity of this Exercise is no less apparent than the benefit. We had need ac­quaint our selves thoroughly with [Page 36] those Spiritual and Heavenly Beings, and make them very familiar to us; because these outward Objects are so near us, and have gained such an interest in us, that, even when we are thinking of the other, they will busily interpose themselves, and are able in an instant to obtrude their Company, though then very trou­blesome, upon us. How oft do our minds turn aside to speak with them, in the midst of our Prayers? How will our thoughts be discomposed at the sound of a Bell, the creaking of a Door, the buzzing of a Fly, or some such weak and contemptible thing, that affects our Senses? When we are bowed down before God, when our Hands and Eyes are lifted up to Heaven, how doth the Memory of Yesterdays enjoyments, or the fear of to Morrows troubles, (besides the thoughts of the present Days busi­ness) start up and interrupt us, we know not how, or on what occasion? The uneasiness of our bended Joynts, [Page 37] the biting of a Flea, the prick of a Pin, some Word which we then speak, any fancy that rises up by the natural motion of our Spirits, will trouble our minds in our Devotion, and carry us away from God. It concerns us therefore very highly to work our minds into a stronger, and more delightful Sense of Him, and of all Spiritual enjoyments, since our fa­miliarity with the other is so inti­mate; that the very least of them is in favour enough with us, to give us an avocation from this better Com­pany, even when we are ingaged in it.

In order to this, and all things else, you know very well how necessary it is to implore the assistance of Gods grace, and to beseech his Infinite Goodness, that he will be pleased to represent himself, more clearly than you can do, unto your mind; and lift it up above toward the Happiness of the other World: Which you may do in some such words as these.

II.

NOW that you may the better preserve in your Soul these ar­dent desires, and that they may not dye for want of continual fewel to feed and nourish them, let me ad­vise you, My Friend, in the next place, to represent to your self, as often, and as sensibly as you can, the incompa­rable greatness of that invisible hap­piness in the World to come. In which that I may assist you, as much as I am able, I will direct you to such an easy way of managing your thoughts that you may pursue this counsel with no great pains and labour. Ju­stin Martyr observes in his Dialogue with Trypho the Jew, that therefore God laid such restraints upon that Nation, and forbad them, for in­stance, the use of certain Meats, the oftner to put them in mind of him­self, even in the most common acti­ons of humane life; and to make [Page 43] them remember they were under his Government, and subject to his Su­preme Authority, which they were too prone to forget. And will it not be a great shame, if in these riper Ages of the World, the free use that God hath given us of all things, should not teach us as much as those restraints and abridgments of their liberty did them, in the infancy of Divine knowledge? Ill natures are taught most by their wants, but the good are best instructed by their en­joyments. Ingrateful People think of God, when he takes away his blessings from them; but ingenuous and thankful minds have a great re­gard to him, when his favours are in their hands. Nor do they only think it a duty, but feel it a pleasure to re­flect on the bounty of their great Be­nefactor: which endeares the pra­ctise of it, and makes it still both more facile and more frequent. In so much that in the use of all these out­ward and carnal things, a pious heart [Page 44] may soon learn to turn its thoughts, and raise up its affections, to a more spiritual good, and nobler fruitions. Do you not observe how the Holy Ghost is wont to express the joyes of the World to come, by such pleasures as are most acceptable to us here? What is the reason of it, if it be not in compassion to the weakness of our apprehensions; and to let us see that all bodily delights administer occasi­on for pious thoughts, and holy de­sires after diviner enjoyments? God would preserve us from sinking into a fleshly sense, by our daily conversa­tion with, and use of fleshly things. He shows us how we may lift up our minds, even by those things which are apt to depress them; and take an advantage from these inferiour com­forts, to climb up towards those higher satisfactions. Hence it is that the happy enjoyments of the other World are compared so often to the pleasures of eating and drinking, whereby our hunger and thirst is [Page 45] asswaged, and our bodily life sup­ported. Yea, to a Feast; which is a more liberal entertainment of that kind, and is the meaning of that phrase in the Gospel, which repre­sents Lazarus carried by Angels into Abrahams bosome; placed, that is, in the uppermost Room at that Hea­venly Feast, and treated as the no­blest and most beloved guest. Yea, to a Marriage-Feast; which being a time of the greatest joy, Men are wont to make the largest provision of good chear, that their friends may rejoyce together with them. And lastly to a Marriage-Feast made by a King; a Royal entertainment, such as a Monarch would make at the Wedding of his Son. All which may serve to provoke good minds to look up above such things as these, which are most enticing in this World, and to be so far from being swallowed up in sensual pleasures, as to give themselves thereby a more lively taste of that excessive joy [Page 46] which God will impart unto them, when they shall live with him, and be feasted by him in his Heavenly Kingdom. The like benefit you may reap from all other things which you converse withall; and though the World will attract your thoughts to it, and imploy a great many of your hours; yet you may draw at last something from thence, which will pay you well for the time which you have spent upon it. As for Example, when you look about you, and be­hold the delightful Objects where­with you are inviron'd on every side, which present themselves continu­ally to your Eyes, or your Eares, or your Tast, or other of your Senses, you may think with your self,

1. If God have provided such a multitude of pleasant things for the entertainment of this poor body in this present life; What are the joys and delights, which he hath prepa­red for my better part in the life [Page 47] which is to come? This is the World of Bodies, the other of Souls and Spirits. Therefore if this little Carkase, which is but as the Grass of the Field, be so well accomodated, if there be so many rare things in the Earth, and the Sea, and the Air for its refreshment and pleasure; What may I not expect hereafter for my mind in those Celestial, those spaci­ous Regions which I see above? O the inconceivable felicity which is provided in the Paradise of God, for this more wide and capacious Spirit, which beares his own Image, and like himself, is to live for ever!

2. Again, you may think with your self, if there be such pleasure to be found in a Creature, O what is there then in the Creator of all? If the sight of the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, and all the rest of the beauties of this World be so glorious; What will it be to see my God? to be fil­led with that wisdom which contri­ved, [Page 48] and with that goodness which produced this vast, this goodly and comely Fabrick? If the melodies of Musick be so charming; O what an ecstasie of joy will it cast me into, to hear God himself say, I love thee, I delight in thee for ever? If the love of a true Friend do so much ravish and transport my Spirit; what plea­sure is it that I shall feel, when my Soul shall love him as much as its most enlarged Powers will enable it; and know how much I am be­loved by him? There is a delicious Meditation in St. Austin, to this ef­fect; who thus speaks to God in one of his Confessions.Lib. 10. Cap. 6. ‘I love thee, O my God; thou hast smitten my heart with thy Word and I have loved thee. Nay, the Heavens and the Earth, and all things contained therein, admo­nish me on every side, that I should love thee; and they cease not to say the same to all Men else, so that they are inexcusable, if they do not [Page 49] love thee. But what do I love, when I love thee? Not the beauty of a Body; not the grace and come­liness of time; not the brightness of light (and yet, O how friendly and agreeable is that to these eys!) not the sweet melodies of well-composed Songs; not the fragrant odors of Flowers, or unguents, or costly Spices; not Manna; not Honey; not the embraces of the dearest, and most lovely Person: these are not the things that I love, when I love my God. And yet I love a certain light, and a certain voice, and a certain grateful odor, and a certain food, and a kind of embracement when I love my God; the true light, the melody, the food, the satisfaction and the embrace­ment of my inward man. Where that shines to my Soul, which no place can contain; where that sounds, which no time can snatch away; where that scents, which no Wind can disperse and scatter [Page 50] abroad; where I taste that which eating cannot diminish; where I cleave to that, which no fulness, no satiety can force away. This is that which I love, when I love my God. And what is this? I askt the Earth, and it said, I am not. I askt the Sea, and the Deeps and all living Creatures, and they answer­ed, We are not thy God; look a­bove us, and enquire after him, for here he is not. I askt the Air, and all its Inhabitants, yea, the Hea­vens, the Sun, Moon, and Stars, and they confessed, We are not him whom thy Soul seeketh. And I spake to all things whatsoever, that stand round about the Gates of my Flesh, saying; Ye tell me that ye are not my God, but tell me some­thing of him. And they all cried out with a loud voice, He made us.’ Look therefore how great, how goodly, how glorious, how beautiful and pleasant we are; and he is in­comparably more bright, more sweet, [Page 51] more harmonious, more filling and contenting than the whole World, which is but his Creature.

And having thus a little raised up your mind above all things visible, you may proceed to a new Meditati­on in this manner.

3. If a Soul inclosed in this Body can see and apprehend so much of God; O what a sight of him shall it have, when it is freed from these Chaines? If whilst we look out of these Windowes of Sense, such a glorious Majesty presents it self be­fore us; in what an amazing splen­dor will the Divinity appear, when there is nothing to interpose be­tween us, and its incomparable beau­ty? If whilst there are so many o­ther things to imploy our thoughts, he discover so much of himself to us, What will he do when we shall be alone with Him, and seeing face to face, shall know as we are known? [Page 52] Is it not a Miracle to see so much light conveyed to us, through so lit­tle a hole as that of the eye? to be­hold so much of the Heaven and the Earth at once, and such a company of beautiful objects crowding in to­gether at so narrow a passage with­out any disturbance or discompo­sure? O what an admirable pleasure then (as Seneca discourses with him­self) will the Soul be surprised with­all, when it shall come into the Re­gion of light? when it shall be all surrounded with this glorious Body? when on every side, as we may con­ceive, it shall take in light, and be a­dorned and clothed with it, as with a Garment? And may we not with greater reason meditate on this man­ner, when we think of God the Cre­ator of light, and of all those goodly things which it discovers to us? Ought we not to say to our selves; O what wisdom, what greatness, what riches of goodness is this, which showes it self in all his works of [Page 53] wonder? What a World of things hath he comprised in this one little Being, which calls it self Man? whose mind is circumscribed, and yet ex­tends it self beyond the limits of this sensible World? which remaining in this body, swiftly runs and takes its circuit, and views all Creatures in Heaven and Earth? and united to these Senses, abstracts it self from them, and goes to the Father of Spi­rits; whom it meets with every where? Is it thus active, thus busie, thus capacious & discerning, whilst it is thrust up in such a close and lit­tle Room, as this poor Body, and shall it not be more vigorous, more piercing, more inlarged, when it is set at liberty from this imprisonment? It will then sure stretch it self to re­ceive more of him; it will see him more clearly, and comprehend him more fully, & admire him with more improved and extended thoughts, and love him with a more ardent flame, and feel more of his wisdome, [Page 54] more of his goodness pressing in up­on it, and filling of it with infinite joy and satisfaction.

4. Again, you may think with your self, if God bestow so many goodly things even upon the wick­ed, then what shall be the portion of the just? Do not the worst of men possess great plenty of his blessings? Doth he not entertain them here with strange variety of delicious en­joyments? Are they not so liberally and abundantly provided for, that Silver and Gold and Jewels are theirs? and all Creatures in the Earth, and the Air, and the Water are pressed for their Service? O what Treasures, what Riches of Glory, what excess of Joy then will God confer on those who are most dear unto Him? If he treat his Enemies in this manner, how sumptuously will he entertain his Friends? If he let such Rebels live in a Palace so stately, so richly furnisht, as this [Page 55] great World is, which he hath built for good and bad; what Mansions may we think are those, which are peculiarly prepared for them, who live in faithful obedience to him?

5. And think again, if God hath made this Building wherein we dwell so sumptuous, though it be to continue but for a time; O how glorious are those Mansions which are Eternal in the Heavens? If he hath bestowed so much cost on that which waxeth old, and shall vanish away, what are the Ornaments of that which shall never decay? Is not this very mortal Body which we in­habit very fearfully and wonderfully made? Is it not contrived with ad­mirable art, and curiously wrought in the lowermost parts of this little World? O how beautiful then will that Body be which is from Heaven, and shall never be dissolved, but re­main Immortal there? With what lustre shall we shine when this vile [Page 56] Body shall be changed, and made like to the glorious Body of Christ our Lord?

6. And cannot you easily make your self believe the inconceivable splendor of that place where God himself more particularly dwells, since he hath made for us so fair and goodly an Habitation? Heaven you know, is called his dwelling-place; and our blessed Lord calls it his Fa­thers House, where there are many Mansions for all his beloved Ones. O how beautiful, how glorious, how full of Majesty must this needs be; seeing we, and other of his lower Creatures live in a World which is so richly adorned, and so fairly beau­tified both above and beneath? Do you not see how the roof of this Pa­lace (if I may so speak) wherein we are, is all gilded with innumerable Stars? how the Floor of it is over­laid with wonderful variety of plea­sant Plants and lovely Flowers? O [Page 57] how glistering, O how refulgent then is that place, may you think with your self, in which the Lord of Heaven and Earth himself is plea­sed, in a special manner, to reside? where he keeps his Court; where all the Angels minister to Him; where he shows the Greatness of his Glory, and where our blessed Savi­our sits at the Right Hand of the Throne of that Majesty on High?

7. And when was it that he brought you into this delightful Dwelling; so rarely furnish'd and richly adorn'd? Was it not as soon as you were born; before you could know to whom you were beholden, or could give him any proof of your love and fidelity? Think with your self then, and say, If God hath gran­ted us such a World of good things by way of gift, O what is that which he will bestow, when he shall come to reward? If before we do our du­ty to him, I mean, he is so bountiful, [Page 58] nay, opens his Hand so wide, and fills every living thing with good, though they cannot acknowledg him; what blessings will he pour forth, what liberality will he express, when he comes to recompence our faithful services, and give us according to our works? For we see that gracious Princes, who grant many immuni­ties, and priviledges to their subjects, only because they are their subjects, do not fail to raise and advance their good and valiant subjects, who have performed some noble acts in their service, to eminent Honours and High Places. Now since that which God will bestow in the Life to come, though it be a free gift, yet, is cal­led a Reward and Recompence, praise and commendation, you may well think it will be very illustrious; when you consider how rich in mer­cy he hath been to us, before we could do any thing praise-worthy.

8. And you may consider again, [Page 59] how that excellent Princes, when they give rewards, are not wont to have respect so much to the Persons on whom they are conferred (who may be but mean, and of low condi­tion) as to the greatness of their own Persons, by whom they are bestow­ed, whom it doth not befit to give any thing mean and below the name and the Authority which they bear. From whence you may conclude, how inconceivably great that re­ward will be, which the Majesty of Heaven and Earth will honour us withall. If a Prince do but send his Charity to the Poor, it is not like one of us, but like himself; and there­fore such will the favours of God be, which he intends to deal to all his Servants. Though they are but ser­vants, though they are but unprofi­table servants, and have done no more than was their duty to do; yet he will reward them like a King, like the King of all the World, like the blessed and only Potentate, the [Page 60] King of Kings, and the Lord of Lords, who only hath immortality. He will feast and entertain them su­tably to the excellence of his own In­finite Majesty, and not proportion­ably to the poverty of their Persons, or of their deserts.

9. For you may consider again, that it is the reward which the Lord Jesus hath received, to give us, for all his pains, and tears, and sweat, and blood. It is the purchase of the blood of the Son of God, the recompence of his obedience to the death; and therefore must needs be of great and inestimable price.

10. Nay, it is the glory of Christ himself, the same happiness which he enjoys; according to his own words, The glory which thou gavest me, I have given them, and enter thou into the joy of thy Lord: and accord­ing to that of St. Paul, We are Heirs of God, Co-heirs with Christ Jesus; [Page 61] who is gone into the Heavens, as he told his Apostles, to prepare a place for us. To prepare a place for us, you may say? How long will it be a fit­ing? When shall we come to it?

11. Truly, from thence you may take some estimate of it; by consi­dering the time you must stay and wait till your happiness be compleat­ed, and that is till the Day of his ap­pearing again unto Salvation. They are great things, which are long in preparing. And therefore the long­er your Life is hid with God in Christ, (as St. Paul speaks) the more glorious will it appear, when it shall be manifested. The longer your bo­dy sleeps in the dust, to the greater dignity shall it be raised. God will pay us (if I may so speak) principal and use, and all. The Treasure mul­tiplies, the longer it lies in his hands. If he should give us our reward now it could be but little: but it increa­ses infinitely, beyond all our thoughts [Page 62] by being deposited with him, till the Lord Jesus shall come from Heaven, with all his mighty Angels, to be ad­mired in his Saints, and glorified in all them that believe.

12. And now in Conclusion, think with your self, what a pleasure these short and little thoughts have given you; how delightful that minute is, in which you have had a glance of your future happiness; and say to your self, if a small tast be so sweet, O what will the full draughts be, when he makes me drink of the Rivers of his Pleasure? Are not Men of contemplation wonderously transported with some few discove­ries, which they have made, of the secrets of nature? Are they not per­petually thirsting and seeking after more? Do they not spend their time and their estates in such enquiries, though they never hope to find out all? What would not these Men give, (were it in their power) if the [Page 63] earth, or any other part of this world, would reveal all the Treasures that are hid in it? What a satisfaction would they esteem such a vast dis­covery, when some little scraps of knowledge are so surprizing? The same you may think of the other World; and raise your spirit by such Meditations as these, to expect an inconceivable joy, when all the glory of that shall be opened, which now darts such chearful Rayes of Light into your mind. Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestow­ed upon us, saith St. John, that we should be called the Sons of God. Belo­ved, we are now the Sons of God, but it doth not yet appear what we shall be. But we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is. What that will be we cannot tell: but we feel now how delicious it is to resemble him, though but a little, in his Wisdome, in his Goodness, in his Love and Charity, in his Meekness and Patience, and [Page 64] such like Heavenly qualities: And if in a drop of Honey, that distills from above, there be such sweetness, what satisfaction, what fulness of joy shall we find, in an Ocean of pleasure? If the morning star be so bright, then what is the Sun it self, in its greatest lustre? It is one of the Meditations of St. Austin; O God, if thou dost such great things for us in the Prison, what wilt thou do for us in the Palace? If thou grantest such solace in the day of our tears, what wilt thou give us on the day of our marriage? When we shall not only behold Je­sus in all his glory; but live with him, and live with him for ever, and receive the utmost effects of his mighty love, and be preferred to sit with him in Heavenly places, and have a Crown of Righteousness set on our Heads, which he the righ­teous Judg will give to all those, who love his appearing.

And is there not great reason, My [Page 65] Friend, that we should love it, and set our hearts on this, as the most desirable good; which so far sur­passes all others, that they have no power at all to tempt us from it, while we keep in mind its incompa­rable greatness? Perswade your self therefore as strongly as you can, that Jesus lives; and that because he lives you shall live also; and that you shall live with him in inconceivable bliss, according to his gracious promises. Believe them heartily, fix them deep­ly in your mind, and by such arts as these represent to your self, as sensibly as you can, how exceeding precious they are: for it is neither the certainty, nor the goodness, nor the greatness of any thing, but the lively faith which we have of it implanted in our Souls, that will make us seek and labour for it. If our faith be superficial, we shall be no more moved by it, than if it were a thing of little moment, or but a de­vised tale, and some idle fancy. You [Page 66] must settle in your Soul therefore, I say again, an unmoveable belief of Christs great and precious promises, and present them to your heart, that it may be affected with them, and value them, according to their worth. Then you will not be unwilling to do, nor backward to suffer any thing, that he would have you. This will give you a great spirit and courage and joy in both. You will take a great pleasure in godliness, which hath such a recompense of reward. Nay, all the afflictions of this pre­sent time will seem inconsiderable, in compare with the glory that shall be revealed. Can any heart think much to abstain a while from sinful plea­sures, when he believes, nay tastes the pleasures he shall shortly enjoy at Gods right hand? Will not any co­vetous desires be content to be de­nied, when you see it is for a King­dom, and a Crown of Life? Of what should a Soul be ambitious beside whose desires are pitcht upon so no­ble [Page 67] a good, as honour, glory, and im­mortality with Christ? Who would not watch and pray unweariedly, that he may come to this Celestial Rest with the People of God? Can there be any higher pleasure, than to lift up our mind to our heavenly Country, and to think of the hap­piness which there expects us? In what can we better spend our time, than in meditating of the great love of God, which hath prepared such excellent things for those that love him? It is a good thing sure to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto his high and holy Name. There can be no more delicious life than this, which will conclude in his everlasting praises. And suppose we must sometime take up a cross, where is the mischief of it, what should render it intolerable, if we look at Jesus, who for the joy that was set before him endured the Cross, and despising the shame, is set down at the right hand of the Throne of God? [Page 68] From thence he stretches forth his hands to call us; there his Armes are open to embrace us; and there he would gladly see us. Out of that glorious place he holds forth a crown of life to us, saying; Follow me, and let none of these things dismay you. Behold the Majesty, wherein I am enthroned; see the glory to which I am promoted; Do not faint in your mind, nor be weary of well-doing; but press on towards the mark, for the prize of the high-call­ing of God, in me your Saviour.

There is nothing sure can hinder us, or pull us back, unless we cease to look at Jesus, and turn away our Eares from hearkning to his graci­ous voice. For do you not see what power a worldly faith hath over Mens hearts? How fast one rides to take possession of an Estate, of which he hears he is left the Heir? How another sailes through dread­ful dangers, because he believes he [Page 69] shall arrive at a rich Country; which will send him home laden with pre­cious Commodities at the last? Why should we think then the Christian Faith is less powerful, or fancy that we are in truth indued with it, un­less our belief of the other World have the same effects? Let it lay its commands upon all the powers of our Soul, and engage them to do their several works. Let it excite our minds, and our wills, and our affections, and our endeavours, to a constant pursuit of these Heavenly enjoyments; that we may know indeed, that we believe to the save­ing of the Soul. Look upon that faith which was built on weaker grounds and lesser evidences, and darker pro­mises. See how it wrought in A­braham, Isaac, and Jacob, and in the rest of the ancient Patriarchs; whose belief of the Word of God made them forsake their own Countries, quit all their Possessions, when he required it, live as Pilgrims and [Page 70] strangers in the Earth, and depend meerly on the love and care of his never failing providence. By faith they slighted the pleasures of Kings Courts, the Honour of a Throne, and the Riches of Egypt. By Faith they wrought Righteousness, subdu­ed Kingdomes, stopped the mouths of Lyons, indured all reproaches and afflictions, would not accept of deliverance, and life it self, that they might obtain a better Resur­rection. Now since the Christian Belief relies upon better Promises, a clearer Revelation, and stronger grounds of hope, by the Resurrecti­on of Jesus from the dead; what a shame will it be, if we do no­thing worthy the name of Men, much less of the Disciples of Christ, and of the Sons of God? To what cause can it be imputed, but because there is no Faith in the Earth, or it rests only in the brain, and floats in the imagination, but never descends to touch the heart and affections. [Page 71] Bring it down then, My Friend, and stir up your self to a serious and af­fectionate belief of the life to come. Spare no pains to consider, and lay to heart (that which is the greatest comfort of your life) all the glori­ous things which you read of in the Gospel of Gods grace; which Christ hath sealed by his blood, and God confirmed by his Resurrection, and hath been attested by signs and won­ders of the Holy Ghost, and by the Life and Death of a number of great Souls; who have followed Jesus e­ven to his Cross, and declared their belief of those things by sacrificing all that was dear unto them here, to win his favour in another World. Look often upon their constancy, up­on their zeal, upon their contempt of Riches and Pleasures, and Life it self, when it came in competition with the will of Christ; for whose sake they rejoyced that they were accounted worthy to suffer, especi­ally since he had assured them, their [Page 72] present troubles should work for them a far more exceeding and eter­nal weight of glory. And then in imitation of them, you will put on their resolution; and lifting up your Eyes to Heaven, will be moved to speak to this effect. ‘O blessed God, how much am I beholden to thee, that thou hast shewed me such things as these! How much am I beholden to thee, that thou hast in­clined my heart to make them my choice! I would not be as I was before, for all the World. Away you frivolous temptations; you vain delights, you unprofitable la­bours: Never renew your impor­tunities, for I will not hearken; I tell you, I will not listen to you a­ny more. I am resolved to proceed in this holy course to the end of my days. You will but make me meditate the more; and pray the more; and lay to heart the more the love of my God: I shall but fix my Eyes the more stedfastly on [Page 73] that blessed place where Jesus my Saviour is at Gods right hand. At his will I hold my riches, my ho­nours, yea, and my life also. Let him dispose of them as he pleases. And let it please the Lord of life and glory to accept of this most hearty oblation which I make of all I have unto him. Let it please him to strengthen me in my holy resolutions, to open my eyes, that I may still see more of that won­derful love which he hath disco­vered in his Gospel, and to accom­pany me with his grace, till I arrive at his heavenly Court. O let his good Spirit breath upon me, and carry away my Soul in holy de­sires towards him. Let it guide my course through this trouble­some Sea wherein I am tossed: Let it shine upon me, and prosper my endeavours: Let it bring me safely to a quiet haven in Eternal Rest and Peace.’

[Page 74]These pious aspirations you may still pursue at the end of these Me­ditations, in some such Prayer as this.

III.

I Need say no more to excite one of your vertue, to the frequent exercise of such Meditations as these, which are no less delightful than they are useful. Let me next unto this advise you to study the truest no­tions of God and of Religion, the love of which is the way to that trans­cendent bliss and happiness, of which I have spoken. As you must be­lieve things unseen, and perswade your self thoroughly, that they are; so it is necessary you should inform your mind aright, what they are. And in particular look upon Reli­gion as a most pleasant thing, and represent it to your self with a face as fair and beautiful as you can. If it seem cloudy, dark and melancho­ly, it will make you to be of the same complexion: But if it have a lovely and chearful aspect, it will encline you always to smile upon it. [Page 80] The poor Norwegian, whom stories tell of, was afraid to touch Roses, when he first saw them, for fear they should burn his Fingers. He much wondered to see that Trees (as he thought) should put forth flames and blossomes of Fire: be­fore which he held up his hands to warm himself, not daring to ap­proach any nearer. But as he you may be sure was happily undeceiv­ed, when he came not only to touch, but likewise to smell those innocent Flowers, which seemed to burn in his eyes: so will it be with us, when we come rightly to understand and feel the pleasure that Religion gives us; which at first sight, before we come acquainted with it, looks as if it intended to make us Martyrs, but not to crown us with any joys or contentments. As the Martyr said of the real, fire, wherein he was covered, that it seemed to him, as if it were a Bed of Roses; so shall we say of true Religion, which we [Page 81] are afraid will scorch us, and prove too hot for us: Its flames are but the flames of love; and it makes us not lye down in sorrow, but in the most comfortable sense of the tender love of our dearest Lord.

Think with your self therefore, when you go into your Closet, and betake your self to your private re­tirements, I am going to God, my exceeding joy, to my happiness, to my hearts delight. Welcome be­loved hour, which hast more of e­ternal life in Thee, than of Time! Rejoyce my Soul, that thou art a­mong Angels now, and not among men! Yea let my flesh be glad to become of a poor Souls Cottage, the Temple of the most High God! Look upon Prayer as that which brings down Heaven to you; and upon Praise and Thanksgiving as that which lifts you up to Heaven; and upon Meditation as that which is the bond of the two Worlds, and [Page 82] ties Heaven and Earth together. Yea, let every other good action seem a favour, rather than a charge; a recreation, rather than a work.

And then, for your notions of God, do not look upon him as a rigid and unmerciful exactor of your labours; but as a loving Father, who is easily pleased, and makes a most gracious allowance for your weaknesses and unavoidable impediments; and is ready to forgive your many over­sights and frequent neglects. When we represent him to our selves, as exceeding angry at every little in­disposition and dulness that seises on us, that very thought makes us more dull and indisposed; because we i­magine that we shall never be able to please him. Or if we deem him, though not implacable yet, much in love with revenge, and ready to strike upon every offence that we give him, I know no readier way to render his service a most tedious [Page 83] task unto us; because we shall go in perpetual fear of thunderbolts hang­ing over our heads, and ready to fall down to do some mischief or other to us. As we ought to have a great and scrupulous care to avoid all that is evil, so we must believe, when we commit a fault against our will and design, that there is an Advocate with our Father, who is a propitia­tion for our sins. And when we look upon him thus, as one ready to for­give, that had rather do us all good than any harm, and desires rather to see his commands better observed, than the penalties, for the breach of them, inflicted; this will incourage us to address our selves with a fresh chearfulness to his service; and breed in our hearts a great love to him, which above all other things hath a most powerful hand upon our obedience.

The more you heighten your love to God, the more motion and activi­ty [Page 84] will the heat of it give you: and the more you heighten his love to you, the greater flames will there a­rise in your heart to him. Just as you see the Sun in its nearest ap­proaches to us, when its beames are directly over our heads, produces a vigorous heat and life in all Crea­tures; but when it is in the Southern Countries, and looks upon us with an oblique aspect, is not able to make us warm by its rayes: So it is with the Divine Goodness, which is the life and comfort of our hearts. If we think that he looks asquint upon us, and cares very little for us, we shall be cold and frozen, like so many dead Creatures, in our affections to him; but if we think his face is to­wards us, and that his eye, and the light of his countenance (as the Scri­pture speaks) is full upon us, that he highly favours us, and his heart is very desirous to pour down a world of blessings into us; it will make our Souls leap for joy, our love will [Page 85] spring up apace, and the odors of it will be like the smell of Spices, sweet both to God and to our selves. We love God commonly (if not always) in the beginning of our friendship with him, because of the good that he doth, or that we think he will do to us: and though afterward this breeds a strong inclination in us to love that most excellent Nature from which all good comes, yet that in­clination will still grow stronger, by the continued thoughts of his kind­ness to us. And therefore this belief is, by all means, to be nourished and preserved in our hearts; especially considering that the stronger our love and inclination towards him grows, by frequent reflecting upon his love and good will to us, the more chear­ful and constant obedience shall we pay to him.

I have represented this so largely in another Discourse, (which you know very well) that it may seem [Page 86] unnecessary to add any thing to it it here: But it will not be unprofi­table I am sure, to recommend to you this one consideration more. That the hearty love of God (which natu­rally springs out of a stedfast and un­movable belief of his love to us) is a thing so comprehensive and so powerful, that it includes in it all the means which are necessary for the accomplishment of our end; and contains the force of all those rules, helps and furtherances, which are commonly prescribed for the better observing of Gods commands. Let me instance in these Five great Ex­ercises, to which you are often ex­horted, both in Sermons and good Books, for the preserving you in his Obedience: First, To live, as in Gods sight. Secondly, To pray continually. Thirdly, To watch. Fourthly, To depend on God for his assistance. And, Fifthly, To look for his mercy to Eter­nal Life: and plainly show you that they are all comprehended in Di­vine [Page 87] Love, and cannot be separated from it.

For the first, it is well known that this passion is not wont to let the Object on which it is fixed be absent from it; but at whatsoever distance it be removed, love brings it near, and sets it ever before the eyes of him, to whom it is dear. And there­fore if our hearts be full of love to God, we cannot be without his Pre­sence, but shall live as in his sight: Or, to speak in the language of Da­vid, Psal. 16.8. We shall set the Lord always before us. Whatsoever we do, we shall think of him; and con­sequently do it well and exactly: we shall study purity of heart, and the greatest clearness in our intenti­ons; because he sees us, and pene­trates into our secret thoughts. There is no more easie observation than this, that nothing makes a Man so diligent, so curious, so circumspect, so decent and comely in all his beha­viour, [Page 88] as to be continually under the eye of one whom he loves; to whom he desires, every way, to approve himself. And it is as certain, that ardent love makes a Person ever pre­sent to us, and will not let us be di­vided from him.

When Phidias, the famous statua­ry, made the Image of Jupiter Olym­pius, one of the goodliest that ever was, he could not forbear, but he must privately ingrave upon his lit­tle Finger, the Name of one whom he dearly loved, in these words; PANTARCES IS FAIR. [...]. For it was not Jupiter (saith Clemens Alexandrinus, from whom I have this story) who was fair in Phidias his eyes, but the youth whom he loved. The thoughts of his God could not put out of his mind, the thoughts of him, whom he loved better. If therefore we had such a love to God, as others have to the things of this World; [Page 89] the thoughts of them could not quite thrust out the thoughts of him. But still we should be apt to write (if I may so speak) upon the very fore­head of every earthly good, God is most lovely: or, God is my exceeding joy; the Lord is my portion; O how amiable are his Courts! or as an holy man (who it is said could never get these words out of his mouth) My God and all things. Where he is, there, in effect, are all things: and where his love dwells, there he will be sure to be. We shall meet him every where, see him in every beau­tiful thing, and taste him, before we have done, in all the delightful en­joyments of this life.

2. And as it comprehends in it the practice of making God present (which some Masters in Divinity have said may serve instead of all o­ther Rules, for the ordering of our life aright:) so it contains in it like­wise the very spirit of Prayer to God; [Page 90] which all acknowledg to be not only a great part of a godly life, but a great help and furtherance to us, in all the rest of our Christian duty. If by Prayer we understand, as some have explained it, the ascent, or rai­sing up of the Soul to God, it is love only which continually aspires to­wards him, and carries the heart a­loft, from other things, to be joyned to him. Or if we call it the converse of the Soul with God, (which are the words of Gregory Nyssen) or a ho­ly conference and discourse with the Divine Majesty, (as it is termed by S. Chrysostome) it is manifest the love of God includes this in it: for it is the nature of this passion, to make us frequent the company of those whom we love. Their conversation is most welcome; their discourse delightful; we are exceedingly desirous to im­part our mind to them; and especi­ally to let them know how much we love them. For which purpose it needs not alwayes the help of the [Page 91] tongue, but can frame a language of its own; and speak by the very countenance and the eyes, and make use of silence instead of words to de­clare its inclinations. According to the admirable expression of the Psal­mist, who, setting forth the pious af­fections of the People to God their Deliverer, saith, Praise is silent for thee, O God, in Sion (so the Hebrew hath it, as your Margin tells you) to Thee shall the vow be performed. But let us take it simply for the desiring and requesting good things of God, and then we must needs acknow­ledg, that love being a passion full of desires, cannot but comprehend in it (as I said at first) the very spirit of Prayer and Supplication. You know how much we long for that, to which we have given our hearts. And therefore if they be devoted in love to God, we cannot chuse but be ever breathing after more sensible apprehensions and tastes of him. So much as we love him, so much we [Page 92] shall thirst after a larger communica­tion of his Divine Grace to us. It will make us sigh for more tokens of his favour; and wait for a greater power of his Holy Spirit; and ve­hemently long to be more transfor­med and changed into his Image. What was it but this, that made David say, Psal. 42.1. As the Hart panteth after the Water-brooks, so pan­teth my Soul after thee, O God? The chased Deer in a great Forrest, and in the midst of Summer did not more long after the streames of Water, than this good Man (being it is like­ly in the Wilderness of Judah, and so denyed the favour of going to the Tabernacle of God) did ardently de­sire the happiness which there he had sometime tasted in the Divine Pre­sence. He opens his mouth, and pants after this with a thirst so vehe­ment, that it makes him cry out in the following words, O when shall I come and appear before God? It is the heat of that Creature (to whose pan­tings [Page 93] David compares the longings of his Soul) which is the cause of its thirst; and that being a constant desire, which goes not off by conti­nuance, as many inconveniences do, but rather more encreases, it beares the greater resemblance to this Di­vine passion of love; whose fervours and ardent longings are perpetual, and do not abate by length of time, but grow still greater and greater. There is nothing so likely as this, to enable us to fulfil that exhortation of the Apostle, Pray without ceasing, and to make us importunate and unwea­ried in it; which are the two quali­fications our Saviour requires in our devout addresses to God, Luk. 18.1. Where you read a Parable of his to this end, that Men ought alwayes to pray, and not faint. It marvelously disposes us also for the Divine fa­vour, by moving us to quit all that is inconsistent with our desires, in hope of that which we pray God to be­stow upon us. There was a Mo­narch, [Page 94] you have heard perhaps, who offered his Kingdome for a Cup of cold Water, in a time of extreme thirst. And therefore what is it which the heat of this heavenly af­fection will not make us resign to God and absolutely part withall, that it may obtain its Petitions, and have its desires satisfied? Besides it hath one wonderful power in it (which nothing else can furnish us withall) to make our Prayers prevalent; and that is by fixing our thoughts, and fastning our minds to the business which we are about. For love, you know, doth not willingly stir from the Object to which it is devoted. It is this flame which keeps our heart close to the Holy Sacrifice, and will not easily suffer us to wander from the Gate of Heaven. It sets us in the Presence of God; it keeps our eye upon him; it makes us converse attentively with him; and while the power of it lasts, our very hearts are tyed to him, and cannot go aside [Page 95] from him. But as soon as ever it be­gins to dye or decay, then it is that the mind steales away, and gads a­bout the World; till this flame re­vive again, and make us fly back to the Altar of God. The best Soul that is, I confess, may feel some loos­ness and distraction of spirit; (espe­cially at some untoward season) some ashes may dim and dull the Fire: but yet this love and ardent desire will keep the greater part of our thoughts together, and knit our heart so to our duty, that there shall be no long nor wide breaches in it; but it shall still be strong, and fervent, and effectual with our Heavenly Father.

Thus you see how wisely these two are joyned together by St. Jude, v. 20. Who after he had exhorted the Faithful to Pray in the Holy Ghost, immediately bids them, keep them­selves in the love of God. There is nothing comparable to this, to in­spire us with devout and earnest de­sires. [Page 96] And it hath an equal force al­so to excite us to Praise and Acknow­ledg our great Benefactor, who gives us so many good things, even before we desire them. Do you not see how Men delight to commend, extol and magnify that they love? And how lavishly they are wont sometime to bestow those praises? There is not any thing in this World so excellent, but they will borrow a Metaphor from it, wherewith to adorn their beloved. They go to the precious stones and to the stars nay to the Sun it self to fetch some lustre from them for their expressions. And more than this, it's usual with love (as every one may observe) to go beyond the nature and value of things, and to make those hyperboles not uncome­ly, which in other cases are ridicu­lous. And as for gratitude, we are all sensible that nothing is so ac­knowledging as love: Every favour it esteems a Treasure; and studies all means to express its resentments. So [Page 97] that if it become a divine passion, you may learn from King David, how much it will dispose our hearts to admire and extol the perfections of God, and excite us to give him thanks, because he is good, and his mer­cy endureth for ever. Do but read the beginning of the 103. Psal. and observe how he calls up all the facul­ties of his Soul to assist in this Ho­ly Duty of praising and blessing the Name of God. And then being con­scious to himself of his own disabi­lity to offer him the praises that are due unto his Great and Glorious Name, you may take notice how in other places, he goes to all his Friends, and begs of them that they would joyn in consort with him, saying, Psal. 33.23. O love the Lord all ye his Saints; and 34.3. O mag­nifie the Lord with me, and let us exalt his Name together. Let Israel now say (Psal. 118.) that his Mercy endu­reth for ever. Let the house of Aaron now say, that his Mercy endureth for [Page 98] ever. Let them now that fear the Lord say, that his Mercy endureth for ever. O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his Mercy endureth for ever. And lest all these should not be able to make this joyful sound loud enough, he invites all strangers to come, and help them to the dis­charge of this debt, saying, Psal. 100. and 117. O make a joyful noise unto the Lord all ye Lands. Serve the Lord with gladness; and come before his Presence with singing. O praise the Lord all ye Nations: praise him all ye People. For his merciful kindness is great towards us: and the truth of the Lord endureth for ever. Praise the Lord. Yea, it is frequent with him to extend his entreaties to the An­gels, that they would lend him their help to acquit himself, 103.20. and he calls (Psal. 148.) upon all the lower Hosts of God, who are in the Heavens nearer us, and in the Earth also, that if they can do any thing, they would bear a part in his Song of [Page 99] Praise, which he composed in honour of him. And in the very conclusion of his Heavenly Book, that he might say all he could, he thus bespeaks the voice of all things, which either by Nature or Art are framed for delight and pleasure; Let every thing that hath breath, praise the Lord. All which Observations I thought good to annex to this Discourse of the Power of Love in Prayer, because, when we have said all we can, there is nothing so prevalent for a new fa­vour, as praising God, and being heartily thankful for the benefits we have already received. To which the love of God disposing us so ef­fectually, that it never thinks it can praise or acknowledg him enough, it must needs obtain much of the Di­vine Grace for us; and consequently secure our obedience to him, above all other things. Especially since,

3. Love is ever Watchful: which is another means, to be joyned with [Page 100] Prayer, to keep us from entering into temptation. It always hath its light burning, and its loynes girded. It is ready and forward to apprehend and imbrace any occasion of serving him, to whom it is engaged. It is jealous of every thing, which would rob it of that good, which it ardent­ly desires. And therefore hath its eyes always open, and by reason of its heat will not easily fall asleep; nor suffer that dulness and weariness to infest it, wherewith others are usually surprised. I need not pursue this Argument any further, it being so apparent that fervent love and af­fection chases away all drowsiness of Spirit, and makes a Man slip no op­portunity, to do that which is plea­sing in the eyes of God. And I am the more willing to quit it, because I have been so long in the former, and have two other Considerations still to add.

4. One of them is (which I shall [Page 101] but briefly touch) that it will breed in us a pious confidence of the succours of Gods holy Spirit, in the power of which we shall be able to undertake any thing that he commands. It is impossible to have any heart to do well, if we have not this hope rooted in us; and it is as impossible to doubt of it, if we feel the love of God bur­ning in our hearts. Which is both a testimony of his Divine Power al­ready working in us, and an argu­ment that he is as willing to do any thing further for us, as we find there­by that we are, to do any thing for him. It doth not only widen the heart to impart, but also to receive. And the very same motion which carries it out towards God, and to­wards others in sincere affection; brings home large assurances that he will abundantly communicate him­self to it on all occasions, for the en­couraging and assisting of its faithful endeavours, to do his will in every thing.

[Page 102]5. The other is this (which shall put an end to this part of my dis­course) that it hath no less power to make us fully assured both of the blessed rewards, I spoke of, in the other World, and of the greatness of them; which are the strongest Motives to our obe­dience. There is nothing so sharp­ens the sight to discern, or enlarges the heart to conceive the things of God, as this doth. For God is love, as St. John tells us, and therefore he that dwells in love dwells in God, and God in him. Among all the goods of this World, we find no where such repose and quiet, as in hearty love and true friendship. No­thing give us such a taste of pleasure, and, if the Object be worthy, such satisfaction. Of two it makes one, so that they communicate in each o­thers happiness. And this satisfacti­on is wont to make them forget all other things, at that instant: For love is of such a nature, that it endea­vours to take up all the room in the [Page 103] heart, and would leave none for any thing else; that it may be intirely and wholly possessed of that which it loves. And therefore when it is turned towards God, and settles it self in him, it must needs give us a lively sense of future bliss, by unite­ing our hearts, and gathering up our minds (as I may speak) wholly unto it. It participates with that supreme good, to which it is united. It car­ries in it self a great deal of the life of God; it is a part of Heaven, and the business of the other World. But besides the solace which is insepara­ble from it, there is this remarkable property in the passion of love; that it strangely disposes us to believe all the kind expressions of our friends, and makes us easily receive what­ever they say, for certain truth. Up­on which account the love of God will incline us, above all other things to entertain every thing that he shall communicate of his mind unto us. And there is nothing so great, no­thing [Page 104] so magnificent declared in the Gospel of his Grace, but he that loves God will presently believe it, and lay it up in his heart, as a singular expression of his divine favour. For he feels by the power and force of this affection in his own heart, what God is enclined to do for those, whom he loves and takes delight in; though it seem incredible to other Men. And therefore, as it doth not pose his belief who loves God, when he hears that the Word was made Flesh for the good of men; that the fulness of the God-head dwelt bodily in Jesus; that he dyed for sinners, and lay'd down his life for the Redemp­tion of Enemies: So the Resurrecti­on of Christ from the dead, his As­cension to Heaven, the exaltation of our Nature, in his Person, at Gods right hand, the Glory and Majesty in which he is said to shine there, and in which we are told we shall at last appear together with him, are no riddles nor incredible things to him. [Page 105] No; Love sees him there preparing a place for us, making all ready for the joyful Marriage to be celebrated in his glorious Kingdome, coming in the Clouds of Heaven to call us up thither, and to advance all his Sub­jects to reign, as so many Kings, to­gether with him. This makes a man presently understand how God should design to reward our poor endea­vours (those services to which we stand obliged, though but weakly performed) with an everlasting in­heritance. How he should compen­sate our present sufferings which are but for a moment, and not worthy to be named, with a far more ex­ceeding Eternal weight of Glory. Hyperbole's go down easily with this Mans Faith. He can believe beyond them all, and see what is far beyond, that far more exceeding E­ternal weight of Glory, as the A­postles words import, 2 Cor. 4.17. He is assured the love of Heaven will enkindle a new life in our dead ashes. [Page 106] He beholds it sublimating this earth, to an Heavenly state. And can well conceive this thick Clay shining as the Sun, and made like to the glori­ous Body of Christ: This Soul also, as pure as the light, saluting its new born Body, and, possessed with a mighty love, rejoycing for ever in Gods bounteous kindness to it. All this it sees, nay feels; being alrea­dy filled, as St. Paul speaks, with all the fulness of God. For it feeling, First, what a vast difference there is between it self now, and what it was before, when it was pent up in scant and narrow affection to these petty goods here below, makes no doubt there may be as wide a differ­ence between what it shall be here­after, and what it is now. It pre­sently concludes, that the same pow­erful goodness which roused up, and called forth its sleepy thoughts and drowsie desires towards it self, can still further awaken and raise all its faculties to a more quick and lively [Page 107] sense: or call forth some hidden power and vertue in the Soul, which hath as yet no more appeared, than those motions which now it feeles did, before it was touched by his Almighty hand. And Secondly, find­ing its own nature by this touch of the Divine Love made so free and benign, so abundant and overflow­ing in kind affection to others, so o­pen-hearted and gracious, it con­cludes that the Almighty goodness not only can but will do more for it; and confidently expects to be lifted up to an higher state of bliss, propor­tionable to the superabundant kind­ness of that most excellent Nature, which hath produced already such good inclinations in it. It is impos­sible for a Man to be under the pow­er of love, to feel the huge force of its flames, to perceive of what a spreading and communicative Na­ture it is; and not conceive very magnificently of the bounty of God, and have a faith in him as large and capacious as his love.

[Page 108]Love God therefore, My Friend, as much as ever you can; with the greatest passion and most ardent af­fection: and you shall find Heaven coming apace into you, and taste the good things of the promised World to come. You shall not only guess at your future state, and make con­jectures about it: but in some mea­sure know and feel the all-filling joy of our Lord, and possess that quiet, tranquillity and peace, which passeth all understanding. For this Divine love is the right sense whereby Hea­venly things are apprehended. It is that which fits the mind rightly to understand, and the will firmly to believe those great and transcendent things, which the Scripture reports, as the portion of the Saints in light. It gives us a sight of things as much differing from all other, which we have meerly by dry reasoning, and which we spin out by thoughtful Discourses, as the sight of a great beauty before our Eyes, differs from [Page 109] the description of it, which we read in a Book: or as the warmth of fire on the hearth, doth from that we see in a Picture; which cannot loosen and inliven our stark and benummed Joynts. And if you would love God, I have told you the ready way to it; which is by preserving in your mind a constant and lively sense of his in­finite love and good will already ex­pressed to you: for this will natural­ly and easily produce a reciprocal love to him; and that will make you look for more of his mercy, even to Eternal Life. This you understand so well, that I shall not say a word to you more about it; but proceed to the next, when I have left a few words with you to say to God.

IV.

BUT as I would have you ex­ceedingly in love with Religi­on, so I must advise you, not to charge your self with too many or too long ex­ercises of Devotion. For Honey it self will cloy us; and a perpetual scent of Roses may become offensive to us. Observe therefore what you can do with ease, and a pleasantness of Spi­rit: And when you find your self to be free and forward, then you may be the longer and more enlarged in your Devotions. But when you are very heavy and straitned, then it is not fit to tire your spirits and drag them along with you, whither they have no strength to accompany you, nor any disposition to comply with your desires. Our Body is such a beast, and sometimes so dull and re­stife, that if we spur it on to a faster pace, it not only quite tires; but will have no list to travel any more. [Page 116] Whereas if we bait it a while, and suffer it to take some repast, and give it some rest; it will go along with us to the end of our Journey. When our spirits are dull already, we make them more dull by our restless im­portunity to do as we would have them. As a Child you may have observed, when he cannot think of his Lesson, the more his Teacher chides and calls upon him, the more blockishly he stands, and the further it is beat out of his memory: so it is very frequently with the natural spi­rits of every one of us. They are so oppressed and stupid at certain sea­sons, that if we labour to set them in motion, it doth but dispose them the more to stand stock-still. But if we let them alone, and for that time leave them, they will be like the same Child, who in a short time comes to himself, and is able to say his Lesson perfectly. They will go whither we would have them, and perhaps run before us.

[Page 117]We must do then with our selves, as one that is weak, and going up an high and steep Hill. When he feels his Legs begin to fail him, and com­plain that they are weary, he rests a while and sits him down to recruit himself. And it will not be long be­fore he hear his mind calling on him, to try if he hath not gathered some new strength, with which he march­es a little further, according as it will carry him. And if he hath any cor­dial spirits in his Pocket, a little taste of them may much revive him in this languishing condition: Yea, the pleasant prospect of the Fields round about him, and the various Objects that gratefully entertain his eyes if he cast them on every side, will be a fit divertisement for his mind, to turn it from thinking of his weariness. Thus I say, My Friend, it is advise­able for you to do; rest your self a while, and make a pause, when you perceive your spirits begin to flag. Break your Devotions into little [Page 118] parts, and take not the Journey you have set your self, all at once. When your mind tels you, that now you are better able, or prompts you to try your strength, then up again and go forward. And between whiles, turn your mind aside to something or o­ther, that is wont to please you much. Think of some good Friend, of the many fair accommodations that God hath afforded you, of the pleasant Meadows (as I may call them) and the still Waters by which he leads you; or betake your self to some Divine promise, and take a taste of the love of God contained therein, which is as a Cordial to chear and refresh the Spirits; or run to the extract or quintessence that you have drawn (as I shall di­rect you anon) out of former Medi­tations: and some of these, its pos­sible, may make you quite forget that you were faint and weary.

And truly, for the most part, I [Page 119] think it is best, not to be over long in your Devotions. I have heard of a very good man, who was wont to pray to God, that he would for­give him his long Prayers. Which though they proceeded from an ho­nest zeal, yet wanted their efficacy, by being indiscreetly tedious. For whilst Men study to stretch and wire-draw their Meditations to the utmost length, what they gain that way, they lose another; having the less of strength and solidity, the more they have of length. No Me­tal, you know, is more massy and ponderous than Gold; yet it may be beaten so thin, that it may be blown away with ones breath, or broken with the least touch of ones Finger. So, many times it is with our Devotions, which have some weight and force in them, if they be contracted and gathered into a little room: but while we spread them, and beat them out to a tedi­ous length, they become so thin and [Page 120] weak, that very Object which stirs, blowes away our thoughts; and great breaches are made in them, by the least imagination that thrusts in it self upon them.

This is capable to be abused, I am well aware, by Souls that are not truly pious: but those that are, may as much abuse themselves, un­less they understand and use it. In­deed when the Soul is very strong and full of heat, or when it is a­wakned by some remarkable stroke of Divine Providence, or when the mighty hand of the good Spirit of God is upon it, then it may, and will, let it self run without any cau­tions or restraints: and we shall have nothing to do but to follow those thoughts willingly, which in another case we could not perswade to follow our wills. Our mind then will run (as it were) before us, our hearts will be pregnant and teem­ing with many good Meditations; [Page 121] which at another time we shall not be able to draw after us, nor make to conceive or bring forth one thought that pleases us. But now you must take great heed, lest at this or any other such happy time, you think to attain presently to the perfection you desire. Alas! My Friend, it is a great way thither: and it cannot be safe to make too much hast, though you find your self never so willing and forward. For many there are who running full speed, have strain'd themselves, by fetching too great a leap, and dis­abled their Souls for some time af­ter. And therefore run not your self out of breath, from an eager desire to be at the very end of your Race. Let fair and softly be your ordinary Rule: though sometimes, in a very smooth Rode, and when your Spirits are brisk, you may make as much speed as you can, for a little way. But we have seen several ride upon the Spur, especially in the Morning [Page 122] when they first set out, who have been left behind in the Afternoon, by those whom they seemed to have many Miles over-stripped. And therefore it is necessary counsel (to those chiefly who are beginners) to Travel so in the Christian Path, as we hope we may be able to hold out; and not to be so fiery at first, as to make us dread Zeal, when there may be good use of it.

There is another thing so nearly related to this matter, that it would have challenged the next place in this Discourse, did your necessities require it. And that is to take heed you do not tire your self with any one thing, for that will make you indisposed to all the rest. This I take to be good advice to my self, who ought to be cautious, lest by over-much study I so dull and blunt my Spirits, that even Devotion it self become irksome to me. And I doubt there are too many of the [Page 123] Gentry and better rank, who so dis­spirit themselves by some of their re­creations, that they are fit for no­thing but to lye down and sleep. But to such as you, I need only say, that You must not weary your self with any one pious Exercise. For I can tell by my Imployment, that if I keep one Author company so long, that I grow weary of him, I shall have no mind to return in hast to him, and all others will find me more morose and indisposed for Soci­ety with them.

Let me only add, that you will the better do this, if you labour to under­stand the true reason why you do every thing, and mark the fittest occasions wherein it may be done. The differ­ence between the grounds (as we speak) or reasons of our motions, and the occasions of them, is this. The former perswade our will either to decline or to pursue something, that appeares either good or evil; and [Page 124] therefore the stronger the Reasons and Motives are, the more shall we be induced either to avoid or em­brace what is before us. The latter is only the opportunity or season, the advantage of time or place, which doth not so properly move us to do a thing, as to do it now. Time and Tide, we say, stayes for no Man; and because the opportunity doth not always happen, therefore it stirs up our Soul (which is already enga­ged by some reason) to work more powerfully at this present, than o­therwise it would have done. So that if you understand not only good Reasons for your actions, but mind also the Occasions; you will be migh­tily inclined by the one alwayes, and more mightily by the other at cer­tain times.

To grow in Knowledg and Wis­dome is exceeding necessary, not on­ly because it presents us with great variety of things to entertain our [Page 125] mind withall, and makes Religion more pleasant, and renders our Soul more firm and strong, more solid and compact: but likewise because while we search into the reason of our a­ctions, we shall discern whether the thing be only lawful, or it be conve­nient also and prudent, and withall necessary to be done. And accord­ingly we shall know how to make a proportionable allowance of our time and strength, and earnestness unto it. If the business be meerly lawful you will do it when you have nothing else to do. If it be necessa­ry you will give it a more certain and likewise a larger portion of your time and strength; and the very thought of its necessity, will en­force you to it. And it it be judg­ed though not absolutely necessary, yet convenient, and more acceptable to God, if you perform it; then you will do it when you are best dispo­sed, and in the fittest temper to do him that more pleasing service. And [Page 126] then, being possessed with an habi­tual love to God and to Religion, upon such satisfactory Reasons as you have propounded to your self, and well considered; the observing of the Occasions, which either time or place, or company, or such like circumstances present you, to express it, must needs be a mighty awaken­ing to your Spirit, to bestir it self with all diligence, in the improve­ment of such an advantage. And these occasions are therefore of such force to call up our endeavours, be­cause we know, that as much may be done then, which cannot be per­formed at another time, so they will not wait upon us and stay our lei­sure; and that as they pass away, so we know not when they will come again. For May (as the Pro­verb is) comes not every Moneth: and a fit opportunity lies not, in e­very lock of Times head. And if there should, yet it is bald behind; and we cannot call back that which [Page 127] is gone, which may be better, than will be presented to us again. And if we find by experience that these occasions do excite our Souls, then the observing and embracing them will be an excellent means to keep us from dulness; because it is like­ly that God will favour us with more of them, when he sees that we use those well, which he hath given us already.

But yet you ought to be cautious that this do not prove matter of scruple and perplexity to you, if you neglect an occasion, when you are otherwise necessarily employed. For both prudence and the forwardness of our affections, and every thing else, must give way to a real neces­sity: and of two necessary things, that seems to be most necessary, in which we are already engaged. Make therefore a short Address to God, and both comfort and quick­en your self, after this manner; [Page 128] when you are dull and indisposed, or otherwise apt to be perplexed, upon such accounts as these.

Amen.

V.

YOU see already how necessa­ry it is, well to understand our selves; and therefore, lest you should think the pleasures of Religi­on to be other than they are, it will concern you, My Friend, in the next place, to Distinguish carefully between those consolations that are spiritual, and those that are sensible. For your re­ceiving benefit by this Rule, you must consider, that the spirit of man being (as I said) joyned to a body, and made a member of this World, and yet belonging to another Coun­try, hath several sorts of faculties (which we call its upper and lower powers) whereby it converses with both. With the former, which are the mind, understanding and will, it hath entercourse with God and In­visible things, and is fitted to im­prove all lower objects to an heaven­ly end: with the other, which we [Page 132] call sense, imagination, and sensitive appetite, we can maintain acquain­tance with nothing, but this out­ward World. Or rather this one Soul of Man is fitted with Capaci­ties of such different kinds, that it can hold correspondence with God and the higher World, and likewise with the goods of the body, in this World which is sensible to us.

Now such a friendship there is be­tween the Soul and the Body, by reason of their nearness, and between the upper and lower faculties of the Soul (if you so conceive of it) by reason, as I may call it, of their one­ness; that they do mutual good offi­ces for each other, when they are able. And as the Soul lends such a great part of it self, to serve the Bodies necessities: so the bodily spi­rits likewise are ready to assist the Soul, in their better Moods, to a freer pursuit of its own concern­ments, in its motion towards God [Page 133] and the things above. And more than this, the pleasures of the one re­dound to the other; what the Soul doth for the Body, returning upon the mind it self, and the bodily spi­rits likewise oft-times feeling the contentment, of which the mind ta­steth. Hence it is that by discreet use of bodily enjoyments, and due attendance to the outward Mans mo­derate satisfaction, the spirits ofttimes are made so mild and sweet, so chear­ful and compliant; that the Mind finds them more ready and forward to accompany it in the contemplati­on of Diviner objects; and it serves it self the more, by serving the Body for a while. And on the contrary part, when the mind converses with Heavenly things, they so powerfully touch it, at certain Seasons, that they make a motion there all over, even as far as the very skirts of its Terri­tories. The Heart is glad, the Spi­rits leap and dance for joy, and the very blood in our Veins runs the smoother for it.

[Page 134]Now while we have this sensible delectation in the borders of our Soul by the agitation of the Animal Spi­rits, to which the mind communi­cates its resentments; there is no part of us, but can be well content to accompany the mind in its devoti­ons, and they will not be enclined to with draw their attendance from these delightful services. But on the other side, if the Mind (through in­capacity, it is like, of the Body to re­ceive them) cannot impress its per­ceptions upon the Spirits, nor make such a warmth and heat in them, that they are pleased, and move de­lightfully; though it really hath no less of God in it self, than it had be­fore when they skipt for joy; yet now the Body becomes like a lump of Clay, and cannot endure to be drawn any longer to these Holy Du­ties. Yea, the Soul it self (unless it duly consider) will begin hereat to be greatly dejected; and to have lit­tle list to that, which gives so small [Page 135] contentment to it, as it is an Inhabi­tant in Flesh, and which makes its abode nothing pleasant and comfor­table, for the present.

But, if in this state, the Mind re­collect it self and consider, that, for its part, it doth what it did before (though it doth not feel it self and perceive its power in the same man­ner) and that it is not bound to pro­duce these pleasurable motions in the lower man, and that they are more pleasing to us, than unto God; it might presently have rational sa­tisfaction and tranquillity in its own breast (which is the best of all o­ther joys) and be perswaded to hold on in its course, notwithstanding this seeming discouragement. And if the Mind by these, or such like considerations, be induced to do as it was wont, then I cannot see but all its performances would be both more acceptable to God, and in the issue more delightful to it self.

[Page 136]For there is more strength of a Mans reason and will in them, now that he wants that pleasing assistance which the Body used to afford him in the doing of them. His love to God is the more fervent and uncon­querable, in that it will not cease its motion towards him, though all things else fail it, but only the force of its own inclination. He is not, in true understanding, more weak and feeble now, but a Person of grea­ter might and courage than he was before. He breaks through all diffi­culties, and will not suffer himself to be overborn by the great load, that lies upon his Spirits. I said just now that the lower man finding a dele­ctation in Gods service, might be well contented with it, if not desi­rous of those Holy Duties: and so the Soul in doing them, gave no great proof, at such a time, of the power and vigour of its own affecti­ons to them; because there was no impediment or reluctance, in the o­ther [Page 137] party. But when there is no­thing but a sense of its duty to in­vite it, and all beside begin to with­draw their consent; then it is, that it showes its resolution, and what it can do by it self. Then a man de­monstrates his heart to be so set to­wards God, and to be so much in love with him, that he will please him, though he cannot please half of him­self in what he doth, in obedience to his commands.

And besides, by a right under­standing of this that I have said, there may be some way perhaps found of recovering these sensible joyes; which are so grateful to us, that we never think we have enough of them. Either (1) by more pre­paring our Mind, and labouring to work in it a deeper apprehension of what we go about: And if the fault be there, this will cure it. Or (2) by gratifying our outward man with some recreations and sensible goods, [Page 138] that it is in love withal; whereby its spirits may be better cheared, than they can be, for the present, with Divine exercises. Seeing it cannot now have a good liking of that which the mind doth most de­sire, let the mind make no scruple to comply more freely with it, and en­tertain it with those innocent plea­sures, which agree best with its in­clinations. And if the fault lye there and arise from its lumpishness, this may be a Remedy for it. Or (3) by using humiliations of the Body, by abstinence and fasting (if through too much fulness it be indisposed) or by smiting on our Breast, casting down our selves on our Face (if through too strong a taste of earth­ly joyes it be grown untractable:) and if the fault be partly in the mind, and partly in the body, it may be in this manner removed. No bo­dy doubts, but discreet Fasting is ve­ry profitable in some cases; and for the other, we find so many examples [Page 139] of them in the Holy Books, that we cannot think they are to be despised. Nay, it is likely that good men found by an outwardly humbled body, that the mind was more affected, and apt to be humbled therewith.

But then remember that it is far better when the Mind affects the Bo­dy, than when the Body affects the Mind: and we should strive rather after that, though we should not re­ject the help of this. I will give you an instance, which shall, at once, prove this; and show withall the influence the Body hath upon the Mind. Let a Man Pray or Preach in a melting tone, with much acti­on of his hands, and with earnest looks and motions of his Head; and the affections of the People shall be exceedingly stirred: when as the very same matter and words deli­vered after another manner, shall not half so much work upon them. Nay, if the Voice be but sweet, and [Page 140] the carriage graceful, though there be little action of the Body, and no arts of insinuation to conjure up the affections; yet the discourse which comes with these advantages, shall find more favour and better enter­tainment with the Hearers; than that which proceeds from an harsh­er mouth, and a less plausible beha­viour, though otherwise it be of far greater weight and moment. And so we see many People chuse to sit in the Ministers face, rather than be­hind a Pillar or the Pulpit, because they say their minds are made more attentive, and their hearts more en­gaged thereby. From all which you are satisfied how much the Soul many times is beholden to the eyes, and eares, and those stirrings in the blood, which outward Objects cre­ate. But yet you know very well also, that one strong touch or stroke that the Mind gives it self by a pier­cing consideration, is of far greater force to breed even a sensible de­lectation, [Page 141] if the Body be disposed; than all the commotions and agita­tions in the Body are to beget a ra­tional satisfaction and contentment of mind, though it be never so desi­rous of it. And the affections, you know likewise, that are raised by those outward means, are not half so much worth, as those which the mind it self excites, from the mat­ter, and not the manner of what is delivered.

These sensible consolations then are not to be slighted, but it is far better to look after the other. And if when we desire them, it were as a step and help to the other, they were the more to be valued and en­deavoured after. As the pleasant trembling and warmbling (I may call it) of the Spirits doth much clarify them, (just as the Air is pu­rified by being shaken) upon that account it is desirable; for the af­fording our mind a freer sight of its [Page 142] own objects. But if we love it only for the harmony and ravishing de­light that is in it self; then it may prove dangerous, because it is apt to take the mind off from its own proper pleasures. It is to be acknow­ledged that when the Spirits are re­fined by gentle agitations, the Soul sits in the Body like to the Eye in a clear Sun-shine day: But if at such a time it gaze meerly on this light, and do not make use of it to look up­on other objects, it loses by its advan­tages; and for an eye full of light, lets go an heart full of joy and pure contentment. And besides this, it is to be considered that we may be easily cheated by these sensible de­lectations; and therefore they are not to be desired so much as the other, wherein there is not so much dan­ger of being cozened. Many warm Souls think themselves very Religi­ous, because they are moved at a Ser­mon, or can weep in their Prayers; whereas they remain as cold as a [Page 143] stone, and as dry as a rotten stick to all good works. They are cove­tous, peevish, proud and censorious: and yet these ill qualities do not trouble them, as long as they feel those pleasing motions, which tickle them into a belief that they are be­loved of God, though they be no bet­ter. And on the other side, many good Souls imagine that they have more of God in them at such times, when they find such melting affecti­ons in their hearts, than they have at others, when they are without them; whereby they set a lighter esteem upon far greater testimonies of Gods love (which then they need not want) such as Humility, Patience, Denial of our own wills, and resigna­tion to his good will and pleasure.

Upon this account many Papists, that have left our communion, are wont wretchedly to deceive and a­buse themselves: who profess that they find their hearts more stirred [Page 144] before a Crucifix, and the Image of the blessed Virgin, and with Prayers which they hear in an unknown Language, than they were while they attended on the Divine Service of our Church; where they knew, or might have known, as much of God, and our Lord Jesus Christ, and all spiritual things, as they can do now. Alas! they consider not how much the fancy is taken with Pi­ctures, and Bodily Gestures, and all things of Novelty; without any pre­ceding consideration of the mind, or any consent of the will before de­manded. These may be but natural motions (such as are common to us with brute Creatures) which are raised by outward objects, and not by our selves. And as a drop of sweet phlegme that trickles down upon a Mans Palate in a slumber, makes him think he swallows ho­ney, or is glutted with sweet meats: So many times do drowsy and incon­siderate Souls dream that they are [Page 145] full of the joys of God, and satiated with Divine Pleasures, when they are but mocked with those natural delights which agreeable Objects stroke them withall, while their fan­cies are awake, and their minds are asleep.

Let us attend therefore, My Friend, to the giving all satisfaction to our inward man, and seriously comply with our noblest desires of pleasing God, by doing his will in every thing. And, if we can likewise give contentment thereby, to all about us; well and good: but if that be not possible, let us not think we are the worse because we cannot; since we are not the better, if we can. And seeing variety is so grateful to our weakness, you may try what passions you can excite in your heart, by this short address to God, which I shall add, at the end of this particu­lar, to many others which you are ac­quainted withall: advising you still [Page 146] to be satisfied and well pleased, in the doing of what you ought, though it prove not so delightful to you as you desire.

VI.

BUT that your mind may not grow quite dull, when your bo­dily spirits begin to sink, and to be flat and listless, Observe, My Friend, what it was that first begat devotion and lively affections in you, towards God and Goodness: for that will be most effectual to continue them. It is an ordinary Maxime in Physick, that we are nourished out of the same things, of which we consist. Liquid things agree best with a Child, while its Flesh is soft, and but newly come from swimming in its Mothers Womb. Every Lamb runs to the Ewe that yean'd it, and layes hold of her teates; which are near the place where it lately lay. And so may we hope to suck both most sweetness and most proper suste­nance, from those truths which first affected our hearts, and wherein we have been wont to find the greatest [Page 151] rellish. It is observable that Iron, which naturally moves towards the Load-stone, when it hath once salu­ted it, and hath been received into its embraces, is more possessed with a magnetick love, and grows more sensible of its attractions, and more desirous of an union with it, than it was before that touch, which made it feel how it could awaken and en­liven it. Even just so it is with our hearts; which when they feel the kind influence and invigorating po­wer of any thing upon them, are the more disposed to receive the touches and impressions of it again, and naturally open themselves, and wish for it with greater passion, than they did before they had that ac­quaintance with it.

If it was the loveliness and beau­ty then of the Divine Nature and Perfections, which first awakened your Heart, think of that, and turn your eyes towards it; for it is not at all withered or decayed. How [Page 152] doth a fair Image sometimes slip through a Mans eyes into his heart, and ingrave it self so deeply there, that it is past his power to rase it out? And will not a sense of God and the light of his countenance, if it shine upon us, leave such a lasting remembrance of it in our Souls; that we shall like him, and love him longer than a Day? And if the first glance of him be so surprising, and make us, that we cannot easily for­get how amiable he is; O how infi­nitely more affecting will a serious and constant contemplation of him prove? If a little ray from his face, that glided into our hearts, we know not how, was so striking and glori­ous; how shall we be inamoured, when we stedfastly, and on purpose fix our minds and affection on Him, desiring to be better acquainted with his Excellencies? It is impossible but you should find your heart more powerfully stirred toward Him; when you consider likewise, that [Page 153] you can never discover all of him, but new beauties will every Day present themselves, and shine upon you, while you feelingly converse with him. You will not endure your self, if you should love him the less, because he admits of your love, and every day appears more lovely and desirable.

But it was a sense of his love to you perhaps (which is far more common) that begat in you the affection of love to him. Then there cannot be a more delightful subject for your thoughts: nor can Religion commend it self by any thing more than this, that it is love, begot by love. And there is nothing surer than that you shall be constant and unwearied in your duty, if Gods mercies and kindnesses can affect your heart, for they are constantly and unweariedly poured forth upon you. The new ones you enjoy daily are so many, that you may know by them the old ones are innumerable. You can turn [Page 154] your eyes no way, but you see your self incircled with them, and hear something calling for your love. All his works declare, not only the ex­cellence of his Nature, but his good­ness likewise and bounty towards you. For every one of them doth you some office of love. They all wait upon you at the command of your Heavenly Father; and they would instantly deny their Service, did not he continue it by the Word of his Power. He must be blind and never saw the Sun, who sees not God and his goodness every where: What beauties doth not that great Lumi­nary create? What fruits and flow­ers doth it not produce? What Li­quors doth it not generate? How doth it cherish all Creatures? How doth it fill your eyes and eares, and all your Senses with its Heavenly influences? And how many of those good things, which you behold by its light, hath God bestowed on you for your portion? Rather than not [Page 155] love some higher Being, one would be tempted to fall down and worship this. The poor Persians of old, know­ing nothing more glorious, had their hearts wounded with the Raies of the Sun, and the light and warmth of its beames seemed so admirable, that they adored and loved it as their God. Shall not we then love him most heartily, who made that, and all things else: who hath opened to us also another World (as I have told you) by our Lord Jesus, far more beautiful and glorious than this, to make us love him? You can never want matter to feed your thoughts, and to recreate your mind with de­lightful Meditations, and your heart with Heavenly affections; when his goodness is so largely diffused, be­yond the bounds of all things visible. Or if, when you would meditate on his innumerable favours, you find that your thoughts stand still, and will not stir, or that they go back­ward and start aside to something [Page 156] else: Your heart will even then burst forth into admiration and great ex­pressions of love, to think that his goodness should be so great to us, who can scarce thank him for it, or consider it.

But suppose it was a sense of sin, and the evil of it, which most start­led your mind, when you began to be Religious; then every thing you see, every thing you can think of, will help to aggravate it. And the more you heighten its malignity, and represent to your self its formidable nature; or reflect only on its base­ness and disingenuity, together with its pride and arrogance; the more you will unavoidably be roused out of the sin of slumber and stupidity.

Or if it was the promise of Hea­ven, and the belief of immortal life (that I may name no more induce­ments) which first invited you to od; that is a thing so vast, that [Page 157] your desires and hopes of enjoying it, will not let you be weary of think­ing of it. Immortal Life! What a good is that, will you say to your self? On what should I fix my eyes so much, and with so much pleasure, as on that blessedness? Who would lose his Portion in Immortal Life, for all the dying pleasures and possessi­ons of this World; though he could be sure to enjoy them to the end of his days? Immortal Life! I am not yet awake sure; or else the very Name of it would make my Heart leap, and quicken this dull and slug­gish Spirit, to the most earnest and chearful pursuit of it, in all the exer­cises of Christian godliness. What should make me move so heavily in the ways of God, unless it be, that I forget to look continually towards this Immortal Life? And what is that should make me forget it? How come I to lose that sense, and let go my hopes of Immortal Life? O won­derful Love! O patient goodness! [Page 158] which still waits and attends upon me, to remind my Soul of its everla­sting bliss. May I after so long a time of sleep, and such forgetfulness, be favoured with a sight of it? Will my love and free obedience be yet accepted? Awake, awake then all the hidden powers of my Soul; rise up and call him blessed. Who can with-hold his heart from devoting it self affectionately to him? With what pleasures can I entertain my self, comparable to those which grow out of the hope of Immortal Life? Or what service can be unpleasant, which is undertaken for so great an happiness? The thoughts of it make my Soul light and aërial, even under the burden of this Body. I feel it drawing me up above: from whence when I look down upon all the men of this lower World, how do they appear, but as so many little Ants, busily creeping on a Mole-hill; while I sit upon the holy Hill of God? O that my mind could dwell there! [Page 159] Or, since I cannot reach so high a fe­licity, it may never descend from thence, but with a lively remem­brance of the joys of that Celestial Hope; which may bear me up a­bove all the petty temptations of this World! For what is it that I labour and toil, with such restless thoughts and desires? For what am I troubled and discontented? Can any thing make him absolutely un­happy, who hopes to live for ever with God? No; I will rejoyce in my Lord always, again I say, I will rejoyce. I will bear at least, even all my dulness and listlesness to my duty, with a quiet and composed mind, in hope one day to be more full of life.

Here my Pen is very forward, and would be running on further than my design will allow. And therefore I must restrain it, and abbreviate al­so the remaining Counsels, having been so long in some of the forego­ing: [Page 160] lest instead of a little Book to carry about with you and refresh you, I should send you a tedious Vo­lume that will quite tire you. Let me only annex, before I leave this, a Prayer to God, which relates to what hath been now said, and with which you are not unacquainted.

VII.

AND having thus poured forth your Soul to God, you may feel your self sometimes so mightily moved; that your heart runs out, with much pleasure, in abundance of pious thoughts and holy affections, which you are not wont to find at o­ther times. And then, My Friend, let me tell you, it would be of singu­lar use, if you would set down those extraordinary thoughts and passionate effusions of your Soul, which you feel in your greater enlargements. These are as so many Records, which you have to show of the Spirits prevalen­cy and triumph over the dull flesh. They are the flights of your Soul, whereby you see to what it aspires; and how great and happy it may be, when God pleases. They are the to­kens of Gods love, whereby he would indear himself to your heart. And you may look upon them, as if they [Page 168] were Golden Chains let down from Heaven, to draw and attract you thi­ther; and bind you fast, but wil­lingly, to your duty. It is great pi­ty to throw away such sweet flow­ers, after once smelling of them: to lay by such good thoughts, as we do a common Book after the first read­ing. I would wish you to find some safe repository for them, and to lay up carefully such expressions of your mind in Meditation or Prayer, as are most lively and affecting; and to fetch them out for your use, when any dulness or straitness shall op­press you.

As a good Student when he reads a Book, though he may let pass the most of it which he knew before, yet, remarks and preserves in his Notes the choicest parts, in which he finds great strength of reason, or sharpness of wit, or may be any ways useful to him in his design: so would I have you mark those pas­sages [Page 169] in your converse with God and Divine things, which have in them some fulness of sense, some liveliness of conceit, some elevation of mind, and are so much beyond the ordina­ry strain of thinking; as if they were some beam of light darted from an higher hand, or the utmost en­deavour of the Soul to be with God. When you find, I say, your concep­tions so fit and proper, that you seem to behold the bare face of truth, when some thing smites your heart with such a force of reason, that you are constrained to yield, or when such an holy breath comes into you, that your Soul swells and grows too big for your body; let them be noted as carefully as the Moneth and the Day was, by your Parents, which brought you into the World; or as you re­member the happy time, when God bestowed some singular blessing on you, which made this World a more comfortable place, than otherwise you should have found it.

[Page 170]Examples you know are wont to move us much; and therefore of what power may we suppose it to be, when we can propound our selves for an Example to us? This Copy, as I may call it, of our selves, besides that it will make us blush at another time, to see how unlike we are to our selves, will also excite us to re­cover the same countenance and as­pect that once we had; and make some colour come into our Faces and warmth into our Spirits, when we are pale and cold in the service of God. It will remember us likewise of the pleasurable motions, that were then in our hearts; and remem­brance is the way to call them back again. It will furnish us also with some matter for our thoughts, when they are barren, and can bring forth nothing. For, though reading of some good Book, in this case, may be very advantageous to us, yet nothing can more assist us than a Book of our own making; the births, as I may [Page 171] term them, of our own mind: Both because they best sute with our noti­ons, and can soon find the place where they lay before, and because they will remember us also of Gods grace and goodness to us; so that ei­ther shame, or love, or hope will make us strain to do the same again, or to excel our selves. When no thoughts will stir within, we must call for some helps without to move us; and what is there that will so easily enter, as that which was once within us before? Nothing sure can better fit us, than that which our own Souls have cut out and shaped for themselves.

As a Chymist therefore that is drawing out the more retired spirits of things, if he grows faint in his work, takes a drop or two of his own extracts, to bring his Soul back a­gain: so should we do, when our liveliness begins to forsake us, and our Soul complains of its weak and [Page 172] fainting Fits. We must pour in some of those thoughts which we have formerly drawn out of our hearts; which are, as it were, the quintes­sence of our Souls, and the very spi­rits of our Devotion, that they may recall the life that is flying away. And tell me, I beseech you, what a reviving it is, but to think that we once had such thoughts in our mind? What a Cordial is it, to the languish­ing Soul to feed, as I may say, upon its own Honey, and taste of its own sweetness? How greedily will it embrace, and how gladly will it smile upon the Children of its own Womb? How pleasant will it be but to hope, that it may become fruitful again, as well as it was be­fore? to behold the Picture of what it may be, as well as of what it hath been in former times?

Save therefore some of these; and let them not all be spilt, as they di­still from your Soul. Lay them up [Page 173] in store; considering the time may come when your Soul will be glad to have them restored to it, and will receive them as so many drops of Balm. Keep them by you, as you do some precious Liquor; which by long labour, and many Operations, you have fetcht out of a number of ex­cellent Herbs or Spices, or other rare Ingredients. For, though you must not have recourse to them every day, yet there may be a season, you see, when they will do you so high a pleasure, that you may owe your life or your chearfulness to them. They may stand you, at least, in so much stead, as to preserve you from utter distast of your self, and despair of Gods favour; when you are apt to droop, nay sink under the weight of your Body, or any other load that lies very heavy upon you.

Chear up your Soul then with some of its own sublimer thoughts; and turning your self to the Father of Mercies, say;

VIII.

AND here I cannot but com­mend to you frequent Medi­tation and serious consideration (which you might expect to have heard of before) as of singular use, for the continuance either of your diligence, or of those delectable affections in it. For the Soul is a thing so entire in it self, that if one part be strongly moved, the other will be so too: just as when the Nave of a Wheel turns round, it makes the outermost circumference to circle about with it. Much is said by many on this subject; and therefore I shall only direct you how to Meditate, when you are dull, and unfit, as you ima­gine, for any thoughts.

When we discourse (you know) with a Servant, and desire to affect him with what we say; if he be stu­pid and heavy, and seems not at all [Page 179] to be concerned in our words, then we are wont to make use of inter­rogations, beseechings, objurgati­ons, exclamations, corrections of our selves, admirations, and such like ways, to rouse his apprehension. For we find that if an object touches any of our senses gently and softly, we mind it not while we are intent up­on other matters; but if it strikes us with some smartness, and comes with a vehemency and importunity, it alarmes the whole Soul, and makes it not only hear but demand what's the matter. And thus it is in our discourses, if they barely present themselves before Mens Souls, that are otherwise ingaged, they regard them not; unless by some such form of speech, as I have mentioned, they put on some sharpness, and be armed with some Authority. If we speak, for example, to one that hath com­mitted a fault, in such terms as these; Indeed you are very much to blame; You ought not to have done thus; [Page 180] it is contrary both to God and to your self; the World will cry shame of you; no body will endure you; &c. He stands perhaps as if he were mar­ble, and had been composed of in­sensible materials. But if we say, what did you mean, when you did such or such an action? Whither were your wits and your conscience gone? Could you do thus, and not tremble at Gods displeasure? Nay, answer me, do you think that God is an Idol, who regards you not, and cannot strike? Oh, that any Man should be so sottish; that he should be such an ill Friend to himself! Ill Friend, did I say? such a desperate Enemy, I meant, such a fury, such a Devil to his own Soul, &c. This kind of language, it is likely, may make him seem a Man; one that is made of flesh, and not of stone.

In such like manner then may you learn to Meditate alone; by discour­sing with your own Soul after the [Page 181] way of expostulation, chiding, re­prehension, and such like: wherein there is great variety; and there­fore great easiness, and no less plea­sure. It was a more awakening ex­pression, for David to say, Why art thou cast down, O my Soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? (XLII. Psal. 5) than if he had only said, I do not do well to be dejected on this fashion; it is to no purpose to afflict and trouble my self; far better and more seemly were it for me to rest contented. And the repetition of this again (V. 11. and XLIII. 5) gives it a greater force, and adds a sharper edge to it, than if it had been but a single question. And so like­wise doth it more pierce a sinners heart to hear God say, as you read in the Prophets; Why will you dye? Wilt thou not be made clean? When shall it once be? Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord: Shall not my Soul be avenged on such a Na­tion as this? than barely to tell him, [Page 182] that there is no reason a Man should destroy himself, and that He is very desirous of his good, and that it is high time also a sinner should amend, and if he will not, that He cannot suffer it, but will certainly punish such continued contempt of his for­bearance. And therefore you need not doubt but your Soul will sooner open to you, at such knocks as these, and more speedily bring forth its conceptions and passions by the Mid­wifry (as I may call it) of such like questions and arguings with your self; than by any other way where­by you endeavour to help its de­livery.

Let me present you with an exam­ple of such a discourse, sutable to the drift and design of this Treatise. O my Soul (may you or I say) are we now to learn that there is a God? Dost thou know nothing but what thine Eyes see, and thy Hands feel, and thy Pallate tasteth? Strange! [Page 183] that thou shouldst so forget to look into thy self! And must I be ever demonstrating to thee, that thou art not of this earth, but a parcel of ano­ther World? What? Dost thou not call God thy Father? Is it not him thou seekest? With him wouldst thou not live for ever? Say, wouldst thou not? Is not this thy earnest de­sire? Speak, and tell me if thou art not of this mind. Need I use so ma­ny words to extort from thee this confession? O how dull art thou, if thou dost not yet understand the difference between his favour, and all the Kingdomes of this Earth! And is it possible thy memory should be so perfidious, as to have no re­maining sense of the incomparable happiness, thou hast sometime seen, he is preparing for thee? Where hast thou been? What hast thou been doing? What is become of all those holy thoughts, and of that blessed Hope of immortal life, which was so lately the joy of thy heart? Is [Page 184] that happiness grown less? or is it less certain than it was, that thou art grown so cold, so listless and in­different? Let me hear thee speak what thou thinkest of it. Is it true, or is it not? Do we Dream, or is it a certain Report which comes to our Eares, when Jesus tells us he will give Eternal Life to them that obey him? What answer dost thou re­turn? Would a man take all the World in exchange, for his Portion in such a bliss? Shall our present sa­tisfaction here be dearer to us, than our future repose and fulness of joy in the presence of the Lord? What did I say? Satisfaction? Alas! how far are we all from that? The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the Ear filled with hearing. Who hath be­witched thee then, to think of seek­ing thy happiness here? Is there so much as room for thy choice, whom thou wilt love, and to whom thou wilt cleave, as thy chiefest good? Doth not necessity carry thee to God, [Page 185] and to the eternal World, if thou meanest to have satisfaction? O how glad am I to find that there is thy heart! What a pleasure is it to love thy God, and to hope thou art belo­ved of him? Dost thou not hold e­very thing for thy enemy, which would rob thee of such a Plea­sure?

But alas! how long shall I find thee full of these apprehensions? Canst thou assure me how many days this sense will abide with thee? O how suddenly may I feel thee al­tered, and become a sensless thing! How treacherous wast thou lately; how false to thy own resolutions? Would one think thee a rational being, when thou so forgattest thy greatest interest? Was it thou who then didst govern me; or some bru­tish soul that came for a time and of­ficiated in thy stead? How often hast thou told me of a World of E­nemies that watch for our ruine! [Page 186] and yet how negligent and supine art thou, as if we had none? Need I remember thee how long ago it is, since thou didst yield, and submit thy self to the weakest of them? Thou knowest very well, that on such a day thou wert very angry; but canst thou tell me for what? On another day (would I could say but one day) thou wast lazy; Were thine Enemies then all asleep? At another time a slight occasion made thee omit a good duty; O at what a small rate art thou willing to part with thy peace? Can one trust any more such a silly and fickle thing as thou art? Can one rely on any of thy promises? How wilt thou be able to hold out in such a long con­test, as we are engaged to maintain? how wilt thou be patient to the end? Such a dull and lazy Soul as thou art, so timorous, so inconstant, so easily abused, so soon pusht down with e­very occurrence; what hopes can one have of it? —

[Page 187]By this vehement inveighing a­gainst your self, it is possible your Heart may be much awakened, even in its most listless moods, to some ge­nerous resolution: and it may an­swer it self after this sort.

Sad things are here objected a­gainst me, or if that be too mild a word, why did not I say insufferable things? Much sloth, idleness, impa­tience (I wish thou couldst tell me all) I am accused of; and alas! my present dulness assures me it is too true. O that I could deny it, with­out any fear of a terrible rebuke! But must I therefore be so cast down, as to be discouraged? Can he that hath done ill, never be so happy as to be able to do well again? May I not hope so much, as that I may be chid­den into better behaviour? Where is the doom passed that I shall never amend? Show me that it is impos­sible, or else I will not despair of it. True it is I need a great deal of pa­tience; [Page 188] but where should I begin to practise it, but upon my self? Is it not fit to attend and wait till I can grow better? Many enemies indeed I have; but shall I become an enemy to my self also? and shall I imagine, that I have no Friend? I have been inconstant, and peevish, and discon­tented, and a lover of the World, &c. But must I therefore be always so? No; Therefore I will not be so al­ways. It is confessed, my indeavours have been careless and lazy: What should I do therefore, but be more vi­gilant and industrious? I have faln sometimes; but is it wisdome there­fore to lye still? Do you call this good reasoning? Is there any sense in such a conclusion? Rather I will take more heed to my self, and walk with greater care. What though I have given back in some assaults? May not a Man recover his courage, and behave himself more valiantly? O the folly of humane Nature! that we should undo our selves at every [Page 189] turn; first by doing amiss, and then by despairing to do otherwise! Bless the Lord, O my Soul, that we are a­ware of this dangerous mistake. And let us not despond, though we have no reason to boast, and glory in our resolution.

Was not this the condition of o­ther of the Saints, long before I was born? Am I the only example of an heavy and sluggish Soul? Must I be recorded the first in the Catalogue for inconstancy? What helps and assistances then had they, to restore themselves and to preserve them to the end, which are strangers to our eares? Must I dispatch a message to some Forreign Country for their Re­cipe's, as we send for Drugs and Spices? Cannot we tell without the charge of going to Hippo, what Ho­ly Austine strengthned himself with­all? Must we take a Pilgrimage to Rome to learn St. Hierome's Medi­cines? Sure, my Soul, thou hast the [Page 190] same gracious Saviour, the same com­passionate High-Priest, the same cor­dial promises, the very same hope of the Gospel, which revived and sup­ported their hearts; or if thou hast not, speak, that I may go and seek them. Look then on thy blessed Sa­viour, look on his holy Apostles, nay, look upon all those excellent Per­sons in the Church that have suc­ceeded them; Shall we not follow such glorious Leaders? Are their Ex­amples impossible to be imitated? If they be, they are not examples. How can we be cold, when we think of the flames of their love? How can we be lazy and unwilling to do, when we see how forward, how ve­hemently desirous they were to suf­fer? What should hinder us from going on, when we have such a Mul­titude of Triumphant Souls before our eyes, whom nothing could drive back? Shall pleasures, shall the in­cumbrance of business, shall Relati­ons and Friends, yea, shall dangers, [Page 191] shall Death? No; I am not inchan­ted, I am not affrighted with these words. Be gone you false and de­ceitful pleasures. How dare you per­plex me, you impertinent imploy­ments? No more of your importu­nity, I charge you, if you will be my Friends. Welcome contempt, wel­come reproach, welcome poverty, or any other thing, which will certain­ly bring me nearer to my God.

But what is it that gives you this suddain confidence? How come you of a coward, to grow thus couragi­ous? Of a Snail, who made you thus to mount up in your thoughts like an Eagle? Who will believe that thou wilt do such things? I will be­lieve it (may you answer again to your self) whatsoever can be obje­cted against it. Why are these cal­led suddain thoughts, which are my most deliberate resolutions? Through the Lord I shall do valiantly: He it is that shall tread down mine enemies un­der me.—

[Page 192]The like discourse you may have with your self about God, or any o­ther subject. You may consider not only that he is gracious, and merci­ful, but cry out, O how great, how great is his goodness! Is there any thing thou canst name comparable to his loving-kindness? What makes thee then so unwilling to go to him? What's the cause of such a diffidence and unbelief, as hath deadned and dispirited thine heart? Could I think that any thing would make thee fall into this stupidity? Didst thou not once look upon him as the first Beau­ty, as the joy, the health and the life of our Souls? Who is it that is al­tered and hath suffered a change? He or thou? Is he not the same to day, yesterday, and for ever? Why should­est not thou be the same too? Or, why shouldst thou not think that he will make thee the same again? How many times is it repeated in the Book of God, that his mercy endureth for e­ver? For whom was it but such [Page 193] trembling Souls as thou, that he pro­claims himself so often, to be abun­dant in mercy, goodness and truth? But must we not then believe it? Is this the way to obtain his mercy, by distrusting of him? What a prepo­sterous course is this? How unseem­ly, nay, how unkind is it to question these gracious declarations of his love? Let us be confidently perswa­ded he hath a greater desire than we, that we should be true and faithful to him. Let us rest our thoughts in this conclusion that neither death nor life, nor Angels, nor Principalities, nor Powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor heighth, nor depth, nor any other Creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Now when you find any benefit by such expostulations and reason­ings with your self, & hope it would do you some good, if you should use the like in an humble address to God; [Page 194] you may be furnished with several strains of devout Admiration, and Pathetical Appeals to his all-seeing Majesty out of the Holy Scriptures. There are Examples also of the o­ther; but expostulations with God are not to be imitated without much caution and holy fear, and ought not to be commonly used. It may be sufficient to conclude the foregoing Meditations, with some such form of words as this.

IX.

AND that you may be the more humbly confident both of Gods continued goodness, and your own fidelity and the more fit likewise for pious Meditations; labour, I intreat you, as much as ever you can, to maintain a constant chearfulness of spi­rit, and lightsomness of heart. With­out this, it will be always night with you, or but a cold Winters day; and as you will have no list either for me­ditation or any other employment, so you will be apt to live in perpetual suspicion of God, and of your Friends, and of your self.

Melancholy is a dull lumpish hu­mour, which makes us of a frozen disposition, and a Leaden temper. It inclines us not only to think worse of our selves than we are, but to do worse than otherwise we should. It represents those things as exceeding [Page 199] difficult, which may be done with ease; and those as impossible, which have in them any considerable diffi­culty. It benums and stupifies our Souls; and will let us feel nothing but it self. It quite dispirits us, and will not suffer us to do any thing, be­cause it imagines we cannot stir. It shows us to our selves in an ugly Glass; and then no wonder we look amiss upon all things else. Some things it makes to appear bigger than they are; and then all the rest appear less. And having conceived them otherways than they are, it nourishes the conceit till we believe it real.

As under the weight of some slug­gish matter in the blood, a man some­times fancies his Arms are as big as Posts, and then his Hands seem as heavy as a Pig of Lead, and he thinks he is unable to lift them up to his Head: so it is with our minds, when they are oppressed with the burden [Page 200] of a sad and melancholy humour. It makes all our duty seem very great, and our strength to be none at all. All impediments it renders as big as Mountains; but our selves not of force enough to remove a straw. It first binds up all the powers of the Soul, and then will not let them be unloosed. It makes us very fearful of that, which it perswades us we cannot avoid. And it afflicts us for that, which yet it makes us fancy we cannot do. In an heat it pushes us forward; but suddenly it cools, and says we cannot go. If it catch fire it makes us wild; and when it hath spent that flame, it leaves us sots and fools. It pricks us forward some­times to an enterprize; but it self is the shackles and fetters that will not let us move.

This heaviness you must take heed of, and give no indulgence to it: For it is the worm of the mind (as one of the Antients expresses it) which eat­eth [Page 201] up its Parent that brought it forth. Contrary to the nature of o­ther births, it pleases us much, when we bring it forth, but proves a miser­able torment to us, as soon as it is born. Melancholy musings, I mean, are at first a very delightful enter­tainment to the mind; but they grow in a little time to be a very troublesome brood. They are a dan­gerous maze, in which a Man may easily lose himself, and from whence he cannot, without much difficulty, get forth. Honey is not sweet to a feaverish man; nor are the sweetest truths acceptable to the sad. Clogs are not a greater impediment to the Feet, than this humour to the moti­ons of the Soul. The eyes are not more darkned with some kind of fumes and vapours, than the under­standing is with its black imagina­tions. The Ayr is not more poyson­ed, when it is charged with a thick and stinking mist, than the mind is offensive to it self and others, when [Page 202] it is buried in its Clouds. And as the Sun, when it looks through a Fog, seems as if it were all bloody: So do the fairest objects, even God himself, appear in a dismal and hor­rid shape, when these sullen exhala­tions gather about us.

Labour then continually to dis­perse them, and blow them away by such means as you find, by experi­ence, to be most available to that purpose. For chearfulness causes the Soul to breath in a pure Air; and to dwell in a wholsome and sweet in­closure. It makes our work seem easie, and difficulties seem little, and God seem good, and so our strength seem great and irresistable. It in­lightens the mind, it incourages the heart, it adds wings to the affecti­ons: and therefore he that forbids it to our Souls, keeps out the welcom­est Guest, and the best Friend that Nature hath. It misbeseems none but the wicked, in whom it is com­monly [Page 203] a light mirth and a foolish jol­lity. As you see fine ornaments and curious dresses set off an handsome Face, though they render those who are ugly more ill-favoured: So doth chearfulness exceedingly become good Souls, though in bad men it be most ridiculous.

For which cause, it is neither un­meet to use any helps that Nature affords us to acquire it; nor to call in the assistance of innocent arts and pretty inventions to invite it to keep us company. Socrates blushed not to be found at Boyes-play with his Children. The wise and solemn Cato sometimes stooped to be a little frol­lick. The great Scipio thought it not unbecoming his triumphal body (as Seneca calls it) to use grave dan­ces, and trip about a Room in decent measures. Some devout men indeed have pronounced of such like pas­times, as Physicians do of Mushromes, that the best ordered are worth no­thing: [Page 204] but they did not mean sure to decry all those pleasures which of themselves are indifferent, and which the intention alone can ren­der good, as well as evil. You ought not to refuse any ingenious or harm­less recreations, which you find will cherish or refresh your spirit; though by Souls of a dark complexion they be deemed fooleries. It is too great a burden to impose on your self such restraints, as not to dare so much as laugh; for fear of giving occasion of suspicion to the weak, or of slander to the wicked. But since a spirit free and full of life is most useful, being indued with more strength and abi­lity than any other, it ought to be preserved in its alacrity; and when it droops and languishes be excited to recover its chearfulness again.

I know you do not think it a crime to laugh; nor are you in love with a studied face. You are none of those who take innocence and severity to [Page 205] be such inseparable companions, that they can never be found asunder: nor that judg a free carriage to be a certain sign of an ill mind; and a merry humour to be a constant to­ken of levity of spirit, or want of judgment. But I desire that you would not only think it lawful, but necessary, to be pleasant; and that you would by no means suffer your self to become sad, under the noti­on of being serious. The Ancient Christians were so cautious in this Point, that we read in Palladius of an old Hermite, who, having five hundred Scholars, would never dis­miss them without this Lesson, My Friends be chearful; do not forget, I beseech you, to be chearful. This was his constant lecture; which he repeated as often as St. John did those words (which he is reported always to have had in his mouth) My little Children, love one another. He took it, I suppose, out of St. Paul, who gives this admonition thrice to the [Page 206] Philippians, III. 1. IV. 4. Rejoyce in the Lord. Rejoyce in the Lord al­ways; and again I say rejoyce. It is an unseemly thing for you to be sad and heavy, who serve so good a Ma­ster, from whom you shall receive the reward of an Eternal Inheritance. If they that traffick in earthly Goods rejoyce in an advantageous bargain; Why should not Religious People, whose Merchandise is Wisdome (a choiser thing than Silver or Gold) who have many divine blessings al­ready in possession, and are in certain hope of more and greater; cherish a perpetual joy, and ever be of good comfort?

By which you may see, whence we are to derive our chearfulness, and to what we must be principally beholden for it. It springs out of an hearty and solid belief of the blessed Gospel, and out of a sincere obedi­ence to it; and increases with our growth in spiritual knowledg and [Page 207] understanding, and in love to God, and all our Brethren. All which, it would be easie to show you, is com­prehended in those words of the A­postle to the Colossians, 11.2, 3. where he expresses his earnest desire for them, and other Christian People, that their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of under­standing, to the acknowledgment of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ; in whom are hid all the Treasures of Wisdom and Knowledge.

But when our natural spirits fail and sink within us, we must use na­tural remedies to recruit them and raise them up again. None are to be rejected which are not sinful; or will endanger to make us so. But those especially are to be chosen, which will chear the Body, and yet do no injury, but rather prove bene­ficial, to the Mind. Of which sort I shall recommend one to you, when [Page 208] I have concluded this Advice, as I have done the rest, with a short Pray­er to God.

X.

THIS puts me in mind to speak a little of Good Company, as a singular means not only to chear and refresh your spirits; but to quicken and improve your mind also, in wis­dome, or vertue. The joy of one Soul, is no joy, say the Hebrews in their common Proverb; which is much-what the same with that of the Greeks, One man, is no man. Good Company will help to divert our thoughts, and yet not let us spend our time unprofitably. It will make us chearful, and yet wise and seri­ous: It will delight us, and do us no harm; but make us rather much better.

Some chearfulness, I confess, is sup­posed in a Mans spirit, to make him good Company for his Neighbours; for it renders his conceits quick and pleasant, his words gracious and ac­ceptable, [Page 212] and his very countenance smooth and obliging. But if some dulness at present make him not to be a good Companion for them, yet they may be the better company for him; and their chearfulness may serve to revive his spirits, and make him as brisk and well pleased as themselves. For it is not more na­tural to us to yawn, when others do; than to be uncloudy in our countenances, when the Faces of o­thers shine.

We can scarce refrain from sigh­ing, when we are entering upon a very long Journey, through ways in which there are many dangers, and which we have never gone before. But to perform it all alone is so un­comfortable, that we are apt to grow weary as soon as we have begun it: and therefore are mighty inclined to seek for some Fellow-travellers, to make it seem less tedious. Our very Horses will go the better, when they [Page 213] travel together: And the Beast (as some Philosophers call our Body) which we carry along with us, will not be so soon tired, if we let it have some to follow, and bear it company. Whether it be that the forwardness of others spurs us up to mend our pace, or whether it be that love to them makes us like them, I know not; but so it is, that they who have the goodness of others to help and incourage them, are wont to find themselves better disposed, than o­therwise they should have been, if they had lived alone.

It is Solomon's Observation, XIII. Prov. 20. that, He who walketh with wise men shall be wise; but a Company of Fools shall be the worse for it. We have an example of the former part of it (saith R. Eliezer) in Lot; who by the pious Example of Abraham with whom he lived, became a good Man, imitating his works, and walk­ing in his steps. For as Abraham, [Page 214] when he dwelt in Charran, was wont to exercise hospitality, and to receive strangers: So did Lot when he dwelt in Sodom; whereby he had the hap­piness to entertain Angels. As a Man (saith he) who goes into the Shop of one that sells Spices, though he cheapen and buy nothing, yet receives a grateful odor, and carries away a refreshment: So does he that converses with the just, partake of their good manners, and carries away a sweet remembrance of their works. Therefore, either society, or death, is a common Proverbial wish among the same Hebrews. One cannot tell which is the greater desert, as Nau­siclides was wont to speak, (as Athe­naeus tells us) a place where there is no spring, or where there are no good Neighbours. He must be more than a Man, whose spirits do not fail him, if he want this refreshment. He will soon be gone to another World, if he have no society in this. It is a thing so necessary, that company not [Page 215] so good as we would wish, proves, now and then, better than none at all; if it be but to make us more contented when we are alone, and the more to prize our solitary oppor­tunities.

And if we cannot have the society of many, yet we may find great use of one special Friend, if well chosen. Nay, it is the advice of the wise Son of Syrach, VI. Ecclus. 6. Be in peace with many: nevertheless have but one counsellour of a thousand. O how great a good is this, for a Man to meet with a well-prepared Heart; wherein to lay up his secrets, more safe than a Jewel in his Cabinet? whose conscience and fidelity he shall stand in less fear of, than his own, whose discourse shall lenifie his care­fulness; whose Opinion shall dis­patch his Counsels; whose chear­fulness shall dissipate his sorrow [...]; and whose very aspect is delightful! This is a Jewel worth ones seeking; [Page 216] and he that hath him not is but half a Man. A man without a Friend is like the left hand without the right, as one of the Jewish Doctors speaks. He is an imperfect Creature; and, according to this Man's Opinion, wants the better part of Himself. But howsoever we may take Solo­mon's word for it, that two are better than one. If we have the use of a­nother Mans parts, time and labours; it is as if we had two Souls, and as many Bodies; and did see with four Eyes, and think with two under­standings. He illustrates this in that place, IV. Eccles. 9, 10, &c. by put­ting three Cases, (which may be ea­sily applied to our spiritual concern­ments) wherein the benefit of a vertuous friendship plainly appears. First, In the case of inward weakness he saith, if the one fall, the other will lift up his fellow. When we slip, a good Friend will support us; or if we be down, he will presently restore us to our selves again. Secondly, In [Page 217] case of dulness, if the one be cold, the other may communicate some heat to him. If any Person think himself so strong, that he is not in danger to fall, yet the best grown man may feel some chilness, & spiritual numb­ness creep upon his Soul: for, alas! we are at a great distance from the Sun, in compare with those who are above, and it is, as it were, a Winter with us, while we are here in this lower World. Now, how can one, saith he, be warm alone? But, if two lie together, then they have heat. As two Fire-sticks will singly cast no warmth, but let their Flame dye; whereas both together will make a good Fire in the Chimney: so will two Friends that lie close to each others hearts, keep themselves from that coldness, which separated would seise upon them both. And, Thirdly, In the case of worldly troubles and violent enemies that outwardly as­sault them, though they may prevail against one, yet two, he saith, shall [Page 218] withstand them. When we have a second, we may venture to go into the Field: and by a double strength we may take up the Bucklers, and hope to overcome, when we might justly doubt of our own single va­lour.

But I cannot better represent the truth of all this, than in the words of Simplicius, In Epict. Cap. 37. an excellent Philosopher; who hath brief­ly, but fully demonstrated the many happy advantages of pure and hearty Friendship, in a discourse to this effect.

But the difficulty, you will say, is in finding him. True; and it re­quires some judgement to make a right choice. We must deliberate of all things with our Friend, but first of our Friend himself. And therefore you must remember the [Page 225] advice of the Son of Syrach, VI. Ec­clus. 7. If thou wouldest get a Friend, prove him first; and be not hasty to credit him. For though Friendship begin in conversation, where Men soon find a mutual liking of each o­thers Persons, Words and Actions; yet they cannot so soon discover that likeness of humour and disposition, and that sympathy in desires, which hath the greatest power to unite Souls. In so much that when by con­tinuance of conversation and mutual liking and happy agreement in all things, they are made one; the state of things is so altered, that as at the first the Person was liked for what he said or did, now the speeches and actions shall be liked, because they are said and done by that Person.

But I shall scarce say any thing new in this Argument, (of which you know where to find a larger dis­course) and therefore I shall only add this, which is sutable to the business [Page 226] in hand. When you want such an one, let him not be a Person that is sad and melancholy, or that loves al­ways to be complaining; for, though he be never so honest and faithful, he will prove but an heavy Companion. And on the contrary, one that is too merry and jocund, will be no less disagreeing to a serious spirit; and be apt to offend more by his levity and imprudence, than he gives con­tent by his liberty and mirth. The happy mixture of both these hu­mours, which will serve for a reme­dy to each other, compounds that Person, after whom we enquire. Just as the Romans (it is observed by an ingenious Person) esteemed best those Tribunes, who testified most inclination to the Senate; and a­mong the Senators thought those the best, who favoured most the Peoples side: So it seems that the best of the pleasant humours are those that come nearest to the melancholy; and the best of the melancholy, those that ap­proach [Page 227] nearest to the pleasant. For where there is this temperature, the first sort will be more discreet and prudent; and the latter less austere and incompliant. And if such a per­son have a quick sense of Divine matters; and be of a pittiful and sympathizing disposition, free from envy, patient of labours, and tempe­rate in his pleasures; if he have done us good before he was asked, and when he had done it, keeps it as a secret, and speaks not of it (which Aristotle observes, is a sign he doth it for our sake,L. 2. Rhetor. cap. 4. and for no other end) you may re­pose the greater confidence in him, as one that is both more able and more willing to do you service.

And therefore when you have found such an one, think you have found great riches, though you should be never so poor. Great Riches, did I say? Rather the greatest Treasure in this World. For if a Man be more [Page 228] worth than all the World, (as our Saviour supposes, IX. Luk. 25.) then he is the most wealthy Person, who intirely possesses a worthy Man, that's like himself: And there is no way to acquire such a possession, but only this. For though a Slave or a Ser­vant be ours, yet they are so but in part. The first gives us power over him out of fear, and the second, for reward: But it is a power over their Bodies only, and not over the men. Because neither fear of punishment will tye up a Slave from rebellious thoughts; nor hope of reward ob­lige a Servant, to a chearful obedi­ence in his will. He only hath in­tirely gain'd a man, and so added to himself something better, than any possession in this World, who enjoys a Friend, and hath won an absolute power over the heart and affection of another Person. This is a rich man indeed, especially when the Person he enjoys is one of real worth; ha­ving a mind stored with the Trea­sures [Page 229] of Divine wisdom, and an heart full of the love of God. Otherways it must be confessed, a Man loses by this gain, and hath the less by this accession of seeming riches. It was an audacious fancy of Boccalin's, and an unjust estimate which he made, when (in his Ballance wherein he weighs all the States of Christen­dom) he supposes England, which he throws into the Scales for a coun­terpois to France, to weigh the light­er upon the addition of Scotland to it. But if we conceive the like Bal­lance for our purpose, we shall find it too true, that he who contracts a Friendship with a prating Compani­on, or a Person of no inward worth and value, will feel himself the poor­er and the weaker (when he comes to weigh what he hath got) for his pretended increase; and the annex­ing of a Friend, will be an heaviness, and not a refreshment to his mind.

Whoso feareth the Lord, therefore, [Page 230] shall direct his friendship aright: (as the Son of Syrach speaks, VI. Ecclus. 17.) for as he is, so shall his Neigh­bour (or Familiar) be also. God loves ever, as the ancient Greek saying was, to bring like to like. He will guide a good man in his choice, and lead him by the hand to one that is good. In whom he will make account he hath found such a plentiful fortune, that he will not be content to forgo it, and take his portion in some other goods. For, you may trust the same wise man, Nothing doth countervail a faithful Friend, and his excellency is unvaluable, v. 15. It is a great com­fort to us, but to think that we have such a treasure: for we receive no small benefit by him, even when he is only the companion of our thoughts, and is not otherwise present with us. And therefore, change not a Friend for any good by no means: neither a faith­ful Brother for the Gold of Ophir, VII. 18. Covet his company above all others; and do not think you can [Page 231] press too near him, or be too familiar with him. Love him ex­ceedingly; and be not willing, on any occasion to be divided from him. There can be no danger you should clash, by being ever together: For as one of the Hebrews excellently ex­presses it, A Needles eye is not too strait for two Friends; and all the World is not wide enough for two Enemies. And if you must live at a distance from him; be not jealous of him, nor su­spect his constancy. For solid love, whose root is vertue, can no more dye, than vertue it self; as Erasmus excellently speaks, in a Letter of his to one of our Country-men. When covetousness, saith he,Lib. 9. Epist. 12. makes Men Friends, their love and their gain must needs end together. And they whom pleasure allures to friendship, will make an end of loving, when they are satia­ted with it. And lastly, they who have a great kindness one for another out of a childish forwardness, or a ju­venile [Page 232] heat, will forsake one another with the same levity, that they em­braced. Our kindness relies on stron­ger Pillars; for it was neither hope of gain, nor pleasure, nor youthful affection, but an honest love of wis­dome and our common studies which joyned us together. For good men are linkt and chained to each other, by their admiration and esteem of the same things. And since the stu­dy of vertue is not subject to those alterations and changes of fortune that other things undergo: the be­nevolence of good men must needs be perpetual, and is not in danger to suffer that decay, which is wont to be the fate of vulgar friendship. But that it may be the better preserved and maintained, it is necessary that Friends frequent the company and conversation of each other, as much as they can. For, as Themistius well notes, Exercise is all in all things: and mutual conversation, Orat. 3. or corres­pondence is the exercise of friendship.

[Page 233]But it is time to make an end of this, which I have the longer conti­nued for the reason now named; be­cause the writing of all this is a good exercise of my Friendship to you. Let me only cast in this one Rule, at the bottom of it. It is good to observe when any chilness and heaviness creeps upon you, from what quarter it comes. I mean, you must follow the stream backward to the Foun­tain, and inform your self of the cause of the alteration. If it be too much company; then, as soon as you can, seek retirement, and betake your self to private Meditation. If too much solitariness; then find out some agreeable company, or run to your Friend. If the change of weather, then wait, if there be no other relief, till it change again. If you know not what, then believe you shall find a remedy in Gods goodness, you know not how. And it may give you some pleasure perhaps, when you are most indisposed, as to think of [Page 234] your Friend, so to send up this short Prayer to Heaven for him, and for all those that heartily love you, and to hope that they also are making the same address upon your account. I put them all together indistinctly; it is in your power, at any time, to make it as particular as you please.

XI.

IN the next place I must exhort you, to exercise a great faith in Gods good Providence, which rules in all affairs. This is of great force to banish all perplexing thoughts; and consequently to make you of a chear­ful spirit, and to be good company for your self when you are alone, or about your necessary employments. And it hath not only this oblique a­spect upon our Souls, to defend them from that heaviness & sadness which is too apt to oppress them; but is of a more direct and manifest influence to comfort and enliven them, on all occasions. By removing, that is those impediments out of the way, which are a clog and a burden to our spirits, and by begetting likewise an higher faith in Gods goodness to our better part, which takes such care of our lower concernments. For what is it that makes our heart unwilling [Page 239] to go to God, and to wait upon him, as Mary sate at our Saviours Feet; but the multitude of businesses wherewith, like Martha, we incum­ber and trouble our selves? We i­magine we can never take care e­nough about those things; and when we have done our best, still we re­main solicitous about the success. And so our Souls being already fil­led & crowded with these thoughts, there is no room left to admit of any other, till they be thrust out.

And suppose now our own Con­science begin in this case to reprove us, and bid us go to our God; yet if it be that only which urges us, and not a quiet faith in his good provi­dence, how do we hear those things calling us off again, and inviting, nay drawing our hearts to them; as be­ing indeed their own? It is nothing else that distracts us but these cares; which are not ejected by faith, but only silenced and stilled a little by [Page 240] natural conscience, which tells us we do amiss. Or if they have lain quiet a while, and given us leave to pray to God, and think of better things; how easily do they thrust out all our good Meditations and pious affecti­ons, when they return again? Nay, how do they eat up and prey on the very Soul it self, as well as on all the good notions which are with­in it?

If we be necessarily engaged then in more affairs, than willingly we would; it is as necessary we should be strongly perswaded of the Care which God takes of all things, that they shall go well with those who trust in him. That so we may use but a moderate diligence, and not trouble our selves about issues and e­vents: and that we may save abun­dance of time for better thoughts; and that these affairs may not take up our hearts, both while we are in them, and when we are out of them [Page 241] too. That's too much familiarity with them, when they will never let us alone. And we ought to endea­vour that, though they employ our minds for many Hours, yet, when we have done our work, they may not then ingross our time also.

The care of Religion is great e­nough; we need not take upon us the care of the World too. With what reason do we complain, that we find it difficult to govern our selves, when it seems, we think our selves meet to govern this World and all? No wonder that we are weary of our work, when we have not only our own to do, but will needs undertake Gods work like­wise. We may well sigh and be discouraged, when we carry such a vast burden upon our Shoulders. There is no end of these Cares; which intermix themselves not on­ly with our particular businesses, but trouble us continually with sad and [Page 242] fearful thoughts about the affairs of Nations, and the state of the pub­lique, wherein our private wealth is embarqued. And this is the mis­chief of it, that when we are dis­couraged by this means, it is a sin, and not meerly our misery: because we will meddle with more than be­longs unto us. We put our selves to an unnecessary pain, to put our selves out of the favour and care of him; who would ease us of this burden, by casting it upon his merciful provi­dence. It is an uncomfortable and a sinful condition; which is aggra­vated by this, that it is a needless and a bold intrusion into his business who governs the World. It is as if I should be very solicitous, whether the Sun will shine to morrow or not; when I have occasion to stay all Day about my affairs at home.

Let us do what concerns us; and leave God to dispose of all the rest▪ And let us believe that he will assist [Page 243] us in our dispatches; and a great deal the more, if we will not stretch our selves to meddle beyond our line. He will help us to do what we ought, when we do no more than we should. When we are not op­pressed, I mean, with fear that we shall not be able to go thorough our employments; and when we are not too careful what will become of them, after we have finished our work. God will take care that we shall do them, and that they shall have the best success, when they are done. Look upon your self as a part of the World, and upon God as the Governour of the whole. And then by faith in him, make your self (as it were) a part of himself; that so he may have a particular concernment in your affairs. Look upon your self not only as one of his Family, and therefore under his General Provi­dence: but also as one of his Chil­dren, for whose good he will more than ordinarily provide. And be [Page 244] always confident he will provide the better for you; because you trust him, and leave your self wholly to his Wisdom and Kindness.

I could entertain you here with a delightful Discourse on this Argu­ment; were it not that I would not burden you, as I said before, with too great a Book. Let me only advise you of this, which shall excuse me from adding a Prayer at the end of this Discourse; especially since you know where to find one in another place. That as it is most for our ease to recommend all we have and do to Gods good providence, and reso­lutely to rest satisfied in what he de­termines: so the most effectual course to obtain this resignation to him and confidence in him, is rather to exer­cise it in our Devotions by acts of re­signation and expressions of our trust in his great goodness, than to be pe­titioning him continually to bestow upon us this grace. Say therefore, [Page 245] with the heartiest affection, upon all occasions, in the words of David.

Thou art my hope, O Lord, thou art my trust from my Youth. I trust in the Mercy of God, Psal. 71.5.14.52.8.141.8.56.3.92.2.118.9.37.2.5. for ever and ever. Mine eyes are unto thee, O God the Lord: I will hope continually, and will yet praise Thee more and more. What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge, and my fortress: my God, in him will I trust. It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put confidence in man. It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put confidence in Prin­ces. I will therefore trust in the Lord and do good: I will commit my way unto him, that he may bring it to pass.

Behold, O Father of Mercies, how intirely I confide in thee. I absolutely resign my self and all I have unto thee. I rely upon thy bounty, for what thou judgest fit and needful for me. Thy [Page 246] Goodness is the greatest treasure; thy Truth and Faithfulness is my best secu­rity; thy gracious Promises and care­ful Providence is my comfort; thy Wis­dom is my satisfaction in all events and accidents; thy Power is my support, protection, and safeguard. Lead me whither thou pleasest; and I will fol­low thee with a chearful heart. I refuse nothing which comes from thy hands, O most loving Father. I submit to thy or­ders; and hope that all things shall work together for my good. And I trust in thy grace, that I shall always do as I do now: stedfastly adhering thus unto thee, and never suffering any thing that befalls me, to pull me away from this humble faith in thy wise and almighty Goodness; to which I refer my self, now and ever.

And the more to awaken you to this; let me tell you, My Friend, that we find examples of it, even in the Heathens themselves, who, in a strange fit of devotion, have some­time [Page 247] cryed out on this fashion.

‘O man, what dost thou? Why dost thou not free thy self from all this trou­ble? Adventure at last,Arrian. Epict. L. 2. Cap. 16. with eyes lifted up to God, to say unto him. Use me at thy plea­sure, O God, for the time to come. Thou hast my perfect consent. I am of the same mind that thou art. I have a mind to nothing but what thou thinkest good. Wilt thou have me bear an Office; or shall I lead a private life? Must I stay or must I fly? Shall I be poor or shall I be rich? I am ready to obey. I will defend thee, against all the World. I will apologize for thy providence about these things, to every body. I say that all is good, because thou art so.’

Thus they exhorted men to follow God chearfully, in a belief that he is Wise and Good: for we can never [Page 248] be happy said they if we follow him sighing and groaning; as a man doth one that is stronger than he, who pulls him after him, when he hath no mind to go. ‘Let us begin every thing (saith the same Philo­sopher in another place) without too much desire or aversation. Let us not incline to this, or to the o­ther way. But behave our selves like a Traveller, who when he comes to two ways, asks him whom he meets next, which of those he shall take to such a place: having no inclination to the right hand rather than to the left; but desiring only to know the true and direct way that will carry him to his Journeys end. Just so must we come to God, as to a Guide; as to one who shall dispose of our motions as he pleases. We must not look a­bout us, and desire of him this or the other thing which we fancy. We must not direct Him what course he should take with us; nor [Page 249] desire him to show us this rather than that: but embrace that which he proposes; and desire only he will conduct us in the right way to happiness. This is our duty and our safety. Whereas now you shall see Men run to him, and say, Lord have Mercy upon me; deliver me from such and such a thing. Wretch that thou art! Wouldst thou have any thing but what is best? And who can tell what that is? Is there any thing best, but that which seems so to God? Why then dost thou endeavour, as much as in thee lies, to corrupt him who is to judg; and to seduce Him who is thy Counsellour; and to move him, by thy cries, to do otherways than he thinks good?’ Cease these cla­mours, and do not urge him to in­cline to thy desires; but suffer him to follow his own Wisdom. It can­not be any delight to him to cross and vex us. If what we are inclined to desire be conformable to his judg­ment; [Page 250] he will not deny it us, meerly because we are inclined to desire it. But he will give us that which is good in his eyes, as the holy Scrip­ture speaks; And what would we have more? Will it not suffice us to have our own hearts desire? And what should that be, if we are well advis'd, but this; that we may have what unsearchable Wisdom, united with Infinite Power and Goodness, shall think to be fittest for us, and most convenient? Of this we need not doubt: And this is sufficient for any Mans satisfaction.

XII.

AND, as a means to all this which hath been said in the foregoing Advices, I cannot but de­sire you, in the next place, to Receive as often as you can the Holy Sacrament of Christ's Body and Blood. For there you have an ample testimony of Gods tender love to you, and care o­ver you. There a number of Chri­stian Brethren and good Friends meet, to rejoyce together. There your Soul is excited to the noblest thoughts and sublimest Meditations of your Saviour's love, and of the purchase he hath made for you: The sight of which will not let you stand in need of being chidden, by your self, into the devoutest affections, and the most chearful resignation to him; who having given so great a gift as his Son to you, will not deny, you may be confident, to bestow lesser benefits, when he sees them expedi­ent [Page 252] for you. In brief; This is an holy Feast, where our Lord not only makes you good chear for the pre­sent; but renews your decayed strength, and begets in you a greater liveliness for the future.

One great end of the institution of publique Feasts, among all Nations in the World, was for the maintain­ing of unity, love and friendship a­mong the People that lived under the same Laws; and for the recrea­ting of those who were tired with their constant labours. And it is the design, we likewise see, of our pri­vate Feasts; which are times of ease and refreshment for our neighbours, and preserve also good will among them: according to that of Ben Syra, a famous Person among the Jews, Spread the Table and contention ceases. We are all good Friends at a Feast; Upon which account Plato was of Opinion that their Gods themselves, in much pitty to Man-kind, whose [Page 253] life is full of labour, [...], &c. Lib. 2. de Leg. did appoint those Fe­stival times for them; that they might have a little relaxation, and be incouraged by those publique joyes, to proceed without any murmuring, in their se­veral imployments.

We are very sure that God hath instituted, by his particular com­mand, this Holy Feast (like to which none ever was, and which we may celebrate as oft as we please) upon the Body and Blood of his dear Son. Whereby a great love, sure, will be begot in our hearts to him and his service, whose guests we are; and at whose cost the entertainment is made, meerly out of his extraordi­nary grace and royal favour towards us. This sure will be a singular re­freshment and restorative to our spi­rits; when we grow weary, and al­most spent in the work of our Lord. The sweetness of this will be like [Page 254] Wine to the Heart, or like Marrow and Fatness to the Bones. It will stir us up, when we are listless; and comfort us, when we are sad; and put life into us, when we are dead; and make us not only able but wil­ling to be Religious, being both our pleasure and our food.

Seneca, speaking of times of relax­ation and rest from labours, saith, he knew some great Men,L. de tranq. animi. who once a Moneth would give themselves a Day of play; and others that every Day would allow some Hours, wherein they would not so much as write a Letter, or meddle with any thing that had the show of business. If we in like manner did, though not every Day, yet every Moneth take this sweet re­past; if out of love to Christ, and consideration of our own necessities, we did lay aside all other thoughts, and give up our selves to those de­lightful Meditations, which here [Page 255] present themselves unto us; it would ease us of many cares and troubles, and make us more chearfully do the will of God at other times, and dis­pose us to attend the whole business of Religion as the pleasure rather than the labour of our life.

But if you be cast into a place, where you have not the opportuni­ty so frequently to celebrate the re­membrance of Christ's death, by re­ceiving the outward and visible signs and pledges of his Divine Grace; then you may the oftner communicate with him spiritually in your own heart, and represent his dying love as lively as you can to it, in your retired thoughts: Beseech­ing him to accept of your unfeigned desires, to make him your publick acknowledgments, and to joyn with all those pious Souls, which are then met together throughout the Chri­stian World to show forth his praise, and to offer up themselves in holy [Page 256] love to him, and to our blessed Re­deemer Christ Jesus. For which purpose I would advise you to make use of all such Meditations, Prayers, and Thanksgivings, as are wont to attend those Solemnities: altering only those words which relate to your actual receiving at the Table of the Lord.

The profit of such a frequent re­membrance of our Lord one way or other, will be exceeding great; for the securing your duty, and the ma­king all those Counsels, which I have given you, the more effectual. It will put you in mind of the worth and dignity of your Soul; for which Christ hath done and suffered so much, and on whom he bestows such precious tokens of his love. It will quicken your love to him, which is the life of Religion. You shall taste how sweet it is, beyond all compa­rison, to be Religious; whereby we have such hope in God. There you [Page 257] shall be remembred how gainful it is to be good, beyond all the purchases of this World; for Christ imparts himself to you and all his benefits. There you pray with the greatest devotion, and offer up Spiritual Sa­crifices; and you represent also the Sacrifice of Christ, to prevail for blessings for you. And there you are most likely to have the most plentiful communications of God's Holy Spirit to you; and to feel your Heart dilated in the largest affection unto Him. There you confirm your promises to God; and he seales his to you. You cannot there be of a­nother judgment, if you would, than this; that since Christ dyed to give you life, you ought not henceforth to live to your self, but unto him which dyed for you, and rose a­gain.

This, I make no doubt, is one rea­son, why those promises wherein Men stand engaged to God, are no [Page 258] better performed; because they do not frequently repeat this holy acti­on, in the exercise of which, they find their hearts, at present, fully re­solved for God and goodness. This is the cause that they waver again; and all their Promises and Vows wherein they bind themselves, fall off like cords of vanity. Whereas, did they upon all occasions commu­nicate with our Saviour, they would find their resolutions grow so strong and stedfast, that no temptation would be able to break them. They would be like Bands of Iron, or Chains, rather, of Gold; that would hold them for ever to their duty. You have heard, I believe, the story of Mithridates; who by often use of the Antidote which he invented, so fortified his Spirits; that they resist­ed the force of all Poyson. Insomuch that when, to avoid the Roman slave­ry, he would have dispatched himself by a strong venemous draught, he was not able to effect it. Such a so­veraign [Page 259] vertue you will find, in the frequent devout receiving of the Sa­crament of Christs Body and Blood. It will secure the life of your Soul; confirm your strength; arm you a­gainst the bitings of the old Serpent; and make it, in a manner, impossible for you to be impoisoned, by any naughty affections.

But I have writ so much, on this Subject, in other Books already, that I need not say any more of it here. You find, I hope, those Treatises use­ful to the stirring up Devotion, and to the making a Soul more forward and unwearied in Gods service. And there likewise you may meet with a particular Prayer, for Love to the Holy Communion: wherefore let me pro­ceed, without any stop, to the next Advice.

XIII.

IF so be you find your Dulness and backwardness to your Duty, at any time, continue so long and increase so much, that you are afraid there is danger in it, and it may prove perni­cious to your Soul; then go and take counsel of your spiritual Physician, to whom I would have you open your case, as plainly and fully as you can. There is no small safety in taking a good Guide by the hand, at all turns, as you walk in your way to Heaven. But then especially it is a necessary piece of wisdome to ask about your way betime, when you fear you may be out: and to open your grief at the beginning, when you are woun­ded with sad apprehensions, before the Sore fester.

And if your Physician or Director could be your Friend also, then you would have a three-fold advantage [Page 261] for your relief; by the advice of a good Man, a Friend, and one of Gods Officers. For I believe the same words spoken by him, and by ano­ther, are not the same. They are the more acceptable when they come from a Friend; and carry the great­er Authority from the Mouth of God's Minister. And therefore be no more backward to reveal the se­crets of your Soul to Him, when it is beyond your own skill to heal your distempers; than you are to let a Physician know those Maladies in your Body, which must be beholden to him for a Cure.

He may furnish you with incen­tives, if you need quickning. He may revive you, when you seem as if you were a dying. He may lend you his supports and comforts, when you are feeble and disconsolate. He may help you to distinguish between your fears and real dangers; between your weakness and your wilfulness; [Page 262] between your laziness, and your cau­tion; between your bodily and your spiritual infirmities. He will be as a good Pilot to steer your Soul, when you are tossed (like a Ship in a dan­gerous Sea and a dark Night) in the doubts and waverings of your own Mind. Yea, in your best estate, he may be of singular use to you, to keep you within the bounds of pru­dence; that you be not over-born with the too violent gusts of your own awakned affections and desires. A Ship needs a Pilot in fair weather, as well as in a storm: when it hath a prosperous Gale, as well as when it is driven with rough and furious, or with cross Winds. She may be in danger then by undiscovered Shelves and Rocks, or by carrying too great a Sail; as in the other case she is, by Tempests and Hurricans, which tear her Sails in pieces. And she must never sail at randome, but steer to some certain Port; which cannot be performed without his direction, [Page 263] and must be the effect of his skilful guidance. Even so it is in the case of our Souls; which may be over­turn'd in our spiritual fervours, un­less we have some to manage us. When all things favour us, we may strain our selves too much and be o­verset, if there be none to govern our Motions. Our zeal may be in­discreet, if we have not a wise and faithful Adviser. It may spend it self on little things, or those that are unprofitable, if there be none to give directions about it: Or it may drive at no certain end, but flote as it hap­pens, unless some body sit at the stern, to order and rule it. We may hoyse up too high a Sayle, and by making too much hast be indanger­ed; if we have not the assistance of one that can judg what we are able to bear, and that shall sometimes slacken us in our too speedy course. In short, a great deal of time may be spent in some cases, to small purpose; without a greater prudence than our [Page 264] own, to husband it, and lay it out for us.

I must commend to you therefore the Rule, which one of the Jewish Doctors gave his Scholars (half of which you have had already) Provide your self, In Pirke Aroth, Cap. 1. of a good Teacher, and a good School-fel­low. A good Guide, and a good Companion, you will find ex­ceeding useful to you. Especially the Guide; who may sometime be your Companion too. Such the ho­ly Scripture calls our Leaders (Ru­lers we render it, XIII. Hebr. 17) the Conductors, and Governours of our motions, in the way to Heaven. Those that take us by the hand, as I said, both to guide and to support us: by their advice and counsel; by their admonitions and exhortations; by Prayer and Blessing; by comforts and spiritual consolations. They are Ministers of the Word; Expound­ers of the holy Books; Monitors to [Page 265] our Duty; Mediators with God; and Dispensers of the Mysteries of Salvation: And therefore it will not be safe to travel without the Instru­ctions of some or other of them. To whom when you have committed your self, look upon Him as your good Genius, or tutelar Angel, (by which Name the highest Ministers in the Church are called) whom you would have as near you as you can; and in whose company, and under whose care and tuition you may hope to arrive in safety at your Journeys end. To him it will be necessary to repair on all occasions, that He may instruct and teach you in that where­of you are Ignorant; or awaken you, when you are sleepy; or refresh and chear you, when you are weary; or cure you, when you are sick and ill at ease; or resolve you in your doubts; or quicken your dulness; or bridle your fervours; in short, that he may illuminate your mind to make a dif­ference between truth and falshood, [Page 266] reality and appearance, good and e­vil; and excite your will to embrace the one, and refuse the other, with a constant affection.

For suppose (to give an instance) any Man should make a tendry to you of some Principles, which he la­bours to prove you ought to receive, as Articles of the Christian Faith: How can you be secure that you shall not drink in some poysonous Con­ceits, under the sugared Name of Truth; unless you take advice of those, that have their Senses more exercised to discern, than your self? And so, in all other cases, know for certain, you will never be so well able to instruct and counsel your self, as they: never so well understand the Sacred Books, as by the help of their Interpretations: nor be so well satisfied you do your duty, as by con­sulting with them, whose work it is to search and make enquiries into the Laws of God. Every Man may [Page 267] know so much of the Law, as to keep him from quarrelling, or trespassing upon his Neighbours: But he will not depend upon his own knowledg in every thing that concerns his e­state, especially when any part of it is in dispute, or he would have it well setled according to his hearts desire. And though some ordinary things in Physick, the vertues of cer­tain Herbs and Plants, may be under­stood by any Body with a little pains; yet none will trust themselves, or their next Neighbours, in case of a sharp Disease, but send, if they be able, for a Man of the greatest repute in his faculty, to look after their health, and administer Medicines to them. Just thus it is in the case of our Souls: it is too much presumpti­on and careless confidence, to rely upon our own counsel alone, in the setlement of our everlasting estate, or in the Cure of those Disorders and Distempers in our mind which threaten danger; we ought to take [Page 268] good advice, and, for fear of mistake, have the judgement of some more skilful Person to secure us, as well as our own.

And indeed, from hence you may learn what account God makes of your Soul (and how highly it ought to be valued by your self) for the safety of which He hath made such careful and plentiful provision. Ha­ving, next to the gift of his Son, and of the Holy-Ghost, setled an order of men to minister unto Souls; to look after them, and see that they do not perish, for want of instruction or good advice. As he would have our Saviour lay down his life for them, so he hath, thereby, made him a most compassionate High-Priest, and pre­ferred him to a Kingdome; which is nothing else but an Office, Power and Authority, to take care of Souls, and do them good continually. By vertue of which, he hath committed Authority unto others in a perpetual [Page 269] succession, that they should watch for Mens souls, as the Apostle to the Hebrews speaks: declaring to them their own worth, and his love; in­grafting that Word in them, which is able to save them; calling them to repentance; establishing them in the Faith; incouraging their Progress in vertue; ordering their goings; feed­ing them with his blessed Body and Blood; absolving them from their sins; assisting them in their last ago­ny, that they may finish their course with joy.

This is the effect of a peculiar kindness to Souls. He hath not dealt so with our Bodies: for we never heard of a Company of Men appoin­ted by God to invent pleasures and contrive ways for the feasting of our Senses. There are none separated and set apart by him, to teach the World how to get riches, and im­prove their Estates, and fill their Coffers. But all the wisdom of Hea­ven [Page 270] is employed to other purposes: having ordained Men to teach us how to live above those things, and to replenish our minds with his knowledg, and our wills with his love. This he hath made their con­stant function, and perpetual employ­ment, to the Worlds end.

And therefore be not slack to use their Ministry, nor doubt of the bles­sing of God upon it. But have so much love to your Soul, as to apply your self to them for assistance, who are particularly concerned to give it: and so much love to God, as to be confident he will make those means successful, which he hath par­ticularly ordained for your good.

XIV.

BUT when you are in your best moods, and think your self fur­thest off from danger, it will be good to exercise an Holy Fear and Jealousie over your self; least you should give way to any thing, which may make you grow worse. Remember how false and treacherous the conquered Enemy is; and therefore it ought to be narrowly watcht. Though it promise fair, Remember that you must not trust it without a constant Guard. And mark the least begin­ings of an evil, for fear, if they be slighted as small faults, they draw you into a greater. Though we must not be dejected for our little irregu­larities, yet we must not pass them over neither, without a serious ob­servance. If a Father laugh or smile when he chides a wanton Child, it is so far from being a check to his follies, that it doth the more em­bolden [Page 275] him to play those idle tricks, for which he is reproved. And so it is to be feared we shall find our selves disposed; if we be not in good earnest displeased at our selves for any thing that borders upon Vice, and do not reprove our selves seri­ously for making too much use of our liberty: We may be in danger by this mildness and gentleness, to take the boldness to proceed to fur­ther transgressions.

But I may seem to forget to whom I write; and, considering what a great quantity you have of this fear, I had need give it a large dash of some other mixture; least it turn into timorousness, and hurt your Soul. And this indeed is the skill we should all learn; to behave our selves with such caution and even­ness in the exercise of fear, that it do not make us Superstitious, nor, through a despondency of Spirit, cast us into that dulness and weakness, [Page 276] which we are striving to avoid. You must let your Fear therefore be tem­pered with so much of a Divine Faith; that like heat and moisture, they may make up one healthful constitution.

Faith in God, I say, is another thing that you must carefully and daily foster in your Soul; if you would be constant in his Service. Be verily perswaded that he loves you infinitely more, than you love him; and therefore is more desirous, than you can be, to see you do well and continue in well doing to the end. Think that his eye is upon you; that his arm is under you; that he is as near to you as you are to your self: for, in all regards, we live and move, and have our Being in Him. Think therefore that you behold Him, the Father of Lights, sending in rayes of light into your mind, as you see the Sun looking in at your Windows, and filling the room with its chear­ful [Page 277] beams: and that you feel Him pouring in life constantly into your will, as the Heart spurts out blood into all the Arteries of the Body. Never entertain such a thought of Him, as though he was willing to desert you, and cast you out of his friendship; now that he hath done so much for you, and you have been so long acquainted. By no means hearken to any jealous thoughts, that are but whispered of his goodness; whatsoever the jealousies be, which you have of your own inconstancy.

Was it not He that called us, when we were in horrid darkness and for­getfulness of him; bending all our thoughts and desires to our own ru­ine and his dishonour? Was it not He that assisted us to get the victory over so many Enemies? Who but He is it, that hath hitherto enabled us, in our study to live vertuously, and please Him in all things? What should now move him to alter his [Page 278] mind? After such numerous tokens of his love, what is it should make him hate us? Will he bear with no weaknesses; or shall a fault that we have committed, wholly alienate his affection from us? If when we lay in our filthiness, he took pitty on us, pulled us out of the Mire, and laid us in his bosome; now that we are washed all over, will he shake us off, and cast us out of his embraces, be­cause our Feet (as our Lord speaks) still need some washing? He that invited us so kindly when we were strangers, and took us into his house, and made us become not his servants only, but his Children; will he now turn us out of doors presently, and thrust us into the wide world again, because we have offended Him? When we had no strength, did he in­spire us, and hath he thus long ten­derly followed us, and trained us up in his service; and will he now for­sake the conduct of us, and abandon us to the mercy of our Enemies? [Page 279] Why did He then with so much labour purchase our love? Why hath He been at such vast expence on our account? Why would He take such incredible care to lose us, when we might have perished by his no care of us?

O unworthy thoughts of so gra­cious a Master, so loving a Father, so tender a Husband! Rather let us think the Sun may refuse to rise and shine upon us, or the Sea may be dryed up; than imagine that He should be willing to cast us into our former darkness, and not let the cur­rent of his grace still run towards us. Let us at least make him as good as an ordinary Mother, who not only suckles her Child when it is young, and indures many tedious Days and wearisome Nights, in the midst of its cries and froward hu­mours; but likewise loves and looks after it when it can go alone, and make some provision for its own [Page 280] good and safety. Far be it from us to make him like the silly Birds, that attend their young no longer than they are in the Nest, and leave them to shift for themselves, when they have once taught them to use their Wings. Will not the Divine love think you indure far more unto­wardness, peevishness and wayward­ness in our hearts, when our grace is but in its infancy and childhood; than a tender Mother indures in her little one, before it can speak and tell its mind? And will he not bear then with some indiscretions or faults af­terwards; but cast us out as Sarah did Ishmael and the Handmaid into a Wilderness; where there is no pro­vision for us? Nay, will He that took compassion on that poor out­cast and his Mother, to whom he sent his Angel for their preservation, leave his dear Children to become a prey to the wild Beasts of the De­sert? Far be it from the Father of Mercies, the God of love and all [Page 281] comfort, to deal so with us.

And let me tell you that, the more confidence we repose in his love, the more he hates to use us so unkindly. What man is there so hard-hearted, that seeing his Neighbour ready to fall and hurt himself, will deny him his help, and with-draw his support; especially when he falls into his armes, and desires wholly to lean Himself on his Breast? Who can in­dure to fail a Man, and let him be un­done; that comes and puts his estate and his life into his hands, though otherwise he be undeserving? If a poor Bird fly to us for protection from the ravenous Kite that perse­cutes it, Can we find in our hearts to throw it into its Enemies claws? Who can then suspect, that God, who hath declared himself otherwayes willing to do us good, should then cast us off and forsake us, when we altogether rely upon his goodness, clemency, wisdom and power to help [Page 282] and relieve us? When we fly to none else for shelter; when we say as David doth (LXII. Psal. 1, 2, 5.) Truly my Soul waiteth upon God, from Him cometh my Salvation: He only is my rock and my salvation, he is my de­fence: The rock of my strength, and my refuge is in God: Who can let it en­ter into his thoughts, that then He will turn away from us, and suffer us to be greatly moved?

But more than this; there is no Man among us, unless he will make himself most infamous, can fail and desert another; who, upon his ear­nest invitation, and kind proffers of security, comes and puts Himself wholly under his Wing, and trusts to his Covert for safe protection. Men are not arrived yet at such in­humanity; but are ashamed to be so barbarous, as to inveigle Men with fair promises and shows of kindness to come, and take Sanctuary with them, and then betray them. Let [Page 283] the Lord of Heaven then never be held in the least suspicion of such un­faithfulness as well as unkindness to us, whom he hath invited and per­swaded to confide and put their whole trust in him. Never so much as imagine, that he will disappoint those good Souls, that rely and de­pend on nothing in their obedience to him, but his undoubted promises. Let it not come into any our minds (or let the thought of it be abhorred and rejected with indignation) that after he hath made us such assurances of his Care and Love, he will break his word, and let us fall, when we have fast hold of his Mercy and his Truth. Men may prove false and treacherous; there may be such Mon­sters whose kindnesses are but flat­teries, and their invitations but in­snarements: But faithfulness it self cannot be unfaithful; God's Good­ness cannot mock us; His infinite perfections will not let Him have any unworthy designs upon us, or any ways delude us.

[Page 284]What? deceive a Confident, and fail a Friend?— Such God is plea­sed to esteem us, when we devote our selves in love to his Service: which is a farther consideration, of greater moment than any else; to secure us of his faithful kindness. For if our heart will not serve us, to let a poor neighbour fall to the ground; when we can easily support him; much less to desert one that hath intirely trusted us with all he hath, and who by our desire reposed this trust in us; then least of all can we be enclined to abandon the care of him, who by long conversation with us, and expe­rience of us, is become our Friend. This gives him a new and a strong­er title to all that we can do for him; and because we have been so kind, will be the best reason why we should continue to be so still. Consider but the Natural works of God; doth He begin to form the life of a Child in the Womb, and leave it before it be­come a perfect Creature? yea, if it [Page 285] be but a Chicken in an Egg, doth he not bring it to its full growth, unless (in either case) something extraor­dinary hinder? Why then should we dream that he will desist, and for­sake the formation of his Son Christ in us; the lively Image of whom he hath already begun? It must be some strange violence which we offer to our selves, some very ill use of our Souls, and great straining of the con­science, that can make us miscarry.

I have askt the Question, you know, elsewhere, and let me briefly repeat it again in this place; Who was it that bid S. Peter to walk upon the Water? At whose command did his body, though apt to sink like a stone, tread in that soft and yielding Element? Was it not our Saviour that said, Come? and that was e­nough. His word made the floods that they could not swallow him up. He felt no more difficulty or danger in those paths, as long as he believed [Page 286] our Saviour's Power, than if he had walked on dry Land. Then it was that he began to sink, when his faith turned into fear. His heart sunk be­fore his body; and his courage yield­ed before the Waters. Just so it is with us, who are compounded of earthly materials, and yet are bid to wade through this world to heaven. A Miracle it is, that our dull Nature which hangs downward, and is in­clined to sink into the soft delights of sense, should be able to look up above, and not be swallowed up in a gulph of sin and misery. For this we stand indebted to the Divine Power, up­holding and aiding our weakness. And He that hath called us, as he did Peter, and bid us come to him, conti­nues his mighty word with us, and bids us go on in the ways of his Commandements. What need we fear, as long as we have him in our company, to go along with us? And when is it that we are in danger of drowning; but when we grow dif­fident, [Page 287] (as St. Peter did) and our minds are fixed more upon the Wind and the Waves, the hardships and the hazards, that threaten us, than upon the grace and power of our Lord, that takes the charge of us?

And yet if through our fearfulness and distrust, we chance to stagger and waver in our resolution; we are not utterly undone, but have a Re­medy very near us. Our Lord will put forth his hand, even in the midst of these fears, and hold us up, as he did that faint-hearted Disciple of his, when we cry out to Him in his words, Lord save me.

It is stoutly resolved by an Hea­then, that seeing all disorders in man arise, partly from the weakness of those reasons that are in his mind, and partly from the excessive abun­dance of gross matter, to which he is chained; and seeing those Rea­sons & Notions are Divine, and near [Page 288] of Kin to the Gods themselves; the insuperable and irresistible power of the Gods will come to the assistance of their Kindred,Proclus, L. 1. in Timaeum. [...], &c. and so revive & renew those Reasons, so comfort & cherish their weakness, that they shall be able to conquer the heaviness and dulness of the bodily impediments. Let us much more resolutely con­clude, that seeing our Souls (though here in this Prison) are the off-spring of God, and seeing likewise he is manifested in our flesh, and hath mar­ried it (as I may say) to himself; he will mightily incourage & strength­en the one, and help us to disbur­den the other, and purifie both: and that he will never despise the faint­est essayes of any honest Soul that faithfully strugles for greater liber­ty; but assist it in all its attempts and endeavours, to be unloaded and made more free and chearful in his service. These very motions derive [Page 289] themselves from Heaven; and may as confidently expect to be succoured from thence, as a Child to receive relief from his Parents when he is in distress, and when, by his order also, he is ingaged to apply his weak­ness to a mighty work, which with­out his help, he knows, cannot be ac­complished. It is incredible that the Father of Mercies should expose that which is born of him, to be undone and perish; which will certainly be the fate of all that is good in us, without his constant care and assist­ance for its preservation. Do not doubt, but God will look after his own, and see that the little portion of goodness which is remaining in this World, be countenanced and in­couraged. In assurance of which, you may address your self unto him, after this manner.

XV.

AND now is there any need to use many words, to show how much force there is in the Medita­tion of Death to make you lively? It is the common opinion, that all things intend themselves more earn­estly, and act in the extremity, when they meet with their contrary, which threatens their destruction: As Springs are hottest in the coldest seasons, and Fire it self most scorch­ing in frosty weather. Even so if we set Death very seriously before our mind, and laid the thoughts of it close to our heart, would it cause our life to be more full of Life. We should gather together all our might, to do as much as we can; if we lookt upon our selves, as going to the Grave; where there is no work to be done at all.

The mind of Man is too apt to [Page 295] feed it self with the fancy of several pleasures, that either Nature affords, or Art hath invented. Among all which a good natur'd mind findes none so delicious; as the conceit which frequently starts up in it, of the excessive pleasure he should en­joy, were he always in the company of a Friend whom he loves intirely, and might they spend their days, e­ven as they list themselves, and dis­pose of all their Hours according to their own inclinations. But if a thought of Death interpose it self when he is in the height of this de­light, it dashes all these fine Bubbles of the imagination in pieces: All's gone, and vanishes into a sigh; or there is nothing of them remains, but a drop as big as a tear. And therefore if it be so sharp a curb to the forwardness of our desires, and serve as a Bridle to hold in our head­strong passions; we may use it also as a good Spur to prick them on, when they are too sluggish, and to [Page 296] stir them up when they have no list to move at all.

When we are ready to fall asleep, did we but think of dying, it would make us start and say; Who would sleep and dream away his time in this manner, when, for any thing he knows, he hath but a few Sands left in his Glass? Death is coming to draw the Curtains about me, and to make my Bed for me in the dust; A­wake then, up, and be doing, because there is a long Night near at hand, wherein we must rest and not work. And is it not a very great grace, if for so small, so short a work, we shall receive so vast, so long a reward? It is a great shame to stand all the day idle, if it be but for this very reason, that our best diligence, though it could be continued for many more years than it is like to be, can never deserve such a recompence.

Place your self therefore, as if you [Page 297] were upon your Death-bed, and think with what ardent desires, with what passionate groans, with what an heartful of sighs, you would seek after God, if your Soul was just taking its flight out of this Body; and perhaps this will send it out be­forehand in the like sighs and groans, which will help to waft You to­wards Heaven. Just as when a man is to write to the dearest Friend he hath in the World, and thinks they are the last Lines that ever he shall send him; his very heart dissolves and drops it self into his Pen: So would all our affections melt and flow forth towards God, if we seem­ed to our selves, as if we should never speak to him more with a Tongue of Flesh, nor look upon him through these Windows of Clay; but should shortly dwell in silence, and go down into the House of Darkness. O how would our Souls thirst for God (as David speaks) for the living God! How much should we love him, and [Page 298] endeavour to confirm our friendship with him! that when our Bodies are disposed of into the Earth, our Souls might still live and rejoyce with Him in Heaven; expecting al­so a blessed Resurrection.

And if you say that in this state of dulness, that I am speaking of, a Soul is fit to think of nothing; this thing will tell you how it alarms the heart, and makes it muster up its thoughts, and collect its scattered Forces, that it may be in a readiness to receive the approaches of Death, and its assault upon us. And the thoughts of it, at such a time, are the more natural and easie, because there is nothing more like to Death than this un­active and sluggish temper; when the Soul seems as if it were buried in the Body, and intombed already in this Vault of Flesh.

And it would be very easy to show how much every one of the forego­ing [Page 299] counsels would be improved, by our frequent conversation, on all oc­casions, with our Graves. It would excite our minds to enquire after a­nother World; and make us very desirous to find it out. It would raise our esteem of the great love of God, who hath given us such assurance of a never dying life. It would carry away our thoughts from this Earth, as not the place of our setled abode. It would presently send them above; and bid them see the pleasures which we do but imagine here, in their full growth, and perfection of joy and happiness there. O how delightful would Religion and Vertue be unto us, which is the only thing we can carry away with us? How curious should we be to judg aright, that Death may not be the first thing that shall undeceive us? How would it open our heart, as I said, to pour out it self in devout affections to God? and what a comfort would these be to us, if the records of them were [Page 300] spread before us at our dying hour? This is so far from being an enemy to chearfulness, that it is a forcible reason why we should freely enjoy all that God hath given us, because we must shortly leave it. Our Friends also we shall therefore be enclined to embrace more ardently, and do them the more good, and covet their com­pany, because we have not long to stay with them. For when I said the thoughts of Death are apt to re­strain our too forward desires, I did not mean that it checks or abates our love to our Friends. No; Love is strong as Death, and hard (or un­yielding) as the Grave: the Coals thereof are Coals of Fire, a most vehe­ment flame; as Solomon speaks, VIII. Cant. 6. It burns, that is, like the Fire on the Altar (for in the Hebrew the last words are; the Flame of God) which came down from Heaven and never went out. Nothing can con­quer it, no not Death which con­quers all Flesh. That can only teach [Page 301] us not to place our chief contentment in any thing here; no, not in the best good in this World, though never so dear unto us: because it may shortly leave us only its shaddow, the image of it in our memory; which putting us in mind of our forepast pleasures will make us so much the more sad, if we have not hope to find that good improved, by its departure from us, in another World. And is not the use of a Friend then most visible, when we think of our departure, by whom as I said, in one of the former Discourses, we shall still remain with those whom we leave behind? But what Friend is there like to our bles­sed Lord; whose love we shall the oftner remember by commemora­ting his Death, if we think of our own? We cannot chuse but be exci­ted to prepare our selves thereby, for an happy and chearful dissolution. And why should we not trust God with all we have for a little time, whom we must shortly intrust with [Page 302] Soul and Body to all Eternity? But I list not to prolong this Discourse, with such collections as these; which I will leave to your own thoughts, with this Prayer, wherewith you may awaken your mind, when you find it necessary.

XVI.

BUT if you be so much discom­posed at any time, that you can­not get your thoughts close to this business, nor find any relief in any of the foregoing counsels; I must then, in the last place, send you to a never failing remedy; which is, to Exer­cise a great deal of patience towards your self. I am so well assured of your goodness, and that my judg­ment is not herein blinded by my affection to you; that I dare con­clude with this Advice: Be content to be dull sometime, and able to do no­thing as you would; and yet do not think the worse of your self for it. But if it do stir up any suspicions in your mind, of you do not know what fault; yet never bluster at your self, but with a calm and gentle spirit suf­fer this distemper. Look upon your self as sick, and think that it is not good now to stir any humours. And [Page 309] therefore strive not too much neither with your self [do not distrust this counsel] when you are thus melan­choly; for that will but cast you more into it. You will be the soon­er eased, if you do as well as you can; and add not a greater load to your spirit, by your own fretful thoughts at this untoward indisposition.

You must consider that our Bo­dies being a part of this World, will be obnoxious to those changes which are in things adjacent to them. And that your Soul being united to your Body, cannot but feel its vicissitudes: Just as when the House smoaks, the Inhabitant is offended, unless he can step out of Doors.

Consider also that the same work is not required of a weak, and of a stronger Person. The Nemalim and the Gemalim (as the Jews speaks) must not be alike loaded: that is, the Ants cannot carry such a Burden as the Camels.

[Page 310]You must thank God it is no worse with you; and that you have not quite forgot Him. Thank him, I say, that you have any use of pati­ence, and that you are not under an absolute stupidity.

Remember likewise that it will be better with you. As long as there is the same Sun in Heaven, the Clouds will be dispersed, and we shall have fair days as well as foul: and as long as our Lord lives and changes not, there will be a brighter season, and we shall be warm as well as cold.

Think likewise how unworthy the best of us is, to live always un­der the Sun-beames. And that as there are many Countrys more North [...] gland, who in the depth of our Winter, are in a long and dismal Night: so there are many Souls who are in a colder case, and more remote from the Sun of righteousness, than yours is.

[Page 311]But however think, that after you have done what you can, it is the will of God that you should be as you are. And if this dulness please him, it need not displease you.

Remember also, that he is not per­fect in patience, who can bear with others, but not with himself.

And again, that there is good rea­son you should bear with your self; because accidentally this dulness will breed a greater activity, when you come out of it: Both out of justice, that you may make some recom­pence for that drowsiness; and out of gratitude to him, by whose good­ness you were delivered from it. For Nature, you know, instructs us to be very kind to those who have helpt us ou [...] of a very great distress; and it is not easie, to blot their readiness to relieve us out of our memories.

And besides, it is manifest there [Page 312] are some kinds of dulness and indis­position, which arise from the meer necessity of Nature: With which we can no more reasonably quarrel; than we do because it rains or snows, when we would have it fair wea­ther. Can it be expected, for in­stance, that a Woman with Child should be so vigorous as she was wont? She must be content perhaps to spend that time in vomiting, which once she did in praying. It must not put her to pain in this case, that she cannot read or think so long, or with so much delight, or with such clearness of understanding as formerly she could: but she must comply with her condition, and, con­sidering no more can be done in such circumstances, believe that God re­quires no more. There is as much reason to be troubled, because she hath not Wings to fly, or cannot walk now as fast up her stairs, as when she had no burden; as to chide her self that she cannot be so [Page 313] earnest, so long, so chearful as for­merly in the performance of Holy Duties.

There are many cases like to this▪ in which there is no more caution necessary, but to see that too much care of our ease, and indulgence to our present infirmity (which must at such a time be liberally allowed) do not tempt us to be negligent in that, which it is in our power to perform. We may often retire to God in short­er thoughts, and affectionate longings and pantings after him; and there­by keeping our hearts in a glowing temper, we may prevent that chil­ness and laziness, which otherwise might creep upon us, and make us imagine our selves less able than we are. And particularly I would ad­vise you, on such occasions, to lift up your Soul frequently to God in earn­est desires, beseeching Him to pre­serve you from cheating your self; and that he would help you to dis­cern [Page 314] clearly when it is the flattery, and when it is the meer weakness of Flesh and Blood, that hinders you from doing as you were wont.

When you cast a glance, I say, to­wards Heaven, and send up a sigh thither now and then, (as you are able) let this be one of your desires; that God would be so gracious, as to give you to feel plainly, when meer necessity requires your attendance on your Body, and when it calls for more than it needs. For he loves that in every thing we should make known our requests to Him, and will certainly some way or other satisfie your mind in such concernments. And when you have used the best judgment you have and can procure, together with your Prayers, about them; then I hope you will be chear­ful, and let your thoughts trouble you no more. Or if a thought should happen to start up and strike your mind, telling you that you are lazy [Page 315] yet believe, I beseech you, your more deliberate, and not these suddain con­clusions.

There is one case, I know, of this kind, wherein though it be certain that it is impossible for us to do as we were wont, and that we are not hindred by any fault in our will, but by the meer indisposition of nature, yet it may be hard sometime to avoid dejected and complaining thoughts upon this account: It is in sickness; when the Mind necessarily languish­es with the Body. You may chance then to imagine that some sin or o­ther is the cause of this Correction (and so you have drawn this disabi­lity upon your self) for which you cannot now be humbled as you de­sire. But I hope, My Friend, that you take such an exact view of your life, that sickness will not let you see any fault, that was not visible to you before. And I know you to be wi­ser, than to torment your self with [Page 316] a fancy that there is some sin lurk­ing in you, though you cannot find it out. But if any thing should disco­ver it self to you, which was not so evident before; let me beseech you, not to pass any hard censure upon your self: But to remember that this hath been bewailed whensoever you lamented the general infirmity of your nature; and that now perhaps it is represented to you more ugly than it doth deserve, or if it be not▪ yet it is sufficient only to beg of God to accept your hearty confession and your promise of amendment (when you are able) and to desire your spi­ritual guide to be the witness of your sincere resolution, and to give you absolution, and his blessing; and so rest satisfied.

But there may be another reason likewise assigned of our heaviness at certain seasons, which I have no [...] yet named: and that is, the with­holding, in a great measure, of tha [...] [Page 317] strength and power which was upon us from the Holy-Ghost, to raise and elevate us to an high pitch of love, activity, and joy in well doing. For as the help of that doth lift us up a­bove our selves, so, when it much abates, we are apt to fall as much be­low our selves; and to be surprised with sadness and dejection of spirit, to see our selves so strangely changed. And this may be denyed us for seve­ral causes; either because we have not improved it, so well as we might; or because our Lord sees that our Na­ture cannot bear always such extra­ordinary motions; or that he may make us more sensible of his favours, and raise their price and value in our esteem; or that he may try our strength, as a Mother lets go her hold of the Child, to make it feel its Feet; or that he may thereby bow our wills more absolutely to his, and break our self-love, which de­sires nothing but pleasure; or that he may prove whether we will love [Page 318] him for himself, and not for the deli­cate entertainments which he gives us; or for some such cause unknown to you and me, and every body else.

And shall we not yield submission quietly, to a thing for which there may be so many reasons; and those not at all to our prejudice, but to our profit? Let me say a few words con­cerning the two last things menti­oned; and show you that if our Pa­tience be exercised upon those ac­counts, it will prove very beneficial to our Souls.

I cannot say (as some have done) that we ought not to desire goodness for our own good, but meerly be­cause it is pleasing to God. No; this seems to me a very absurd doctrine, and utterly impossible, that we should separate these two, Piety, and our own good. We cannot so much as desire to be good, but we shall feel a satisfaction in it. For the very Name [Page 319] of good carries a respect in it, to something in us to which it is agree­able and convenient. We do not mean when we bid you love God for himself, that you should not therein love your self, and seek your own contentment; for you cannot chuse but be pleased in the love of God and vertue. But this I may affirm with safety; that there may be sometimes too much of self-love in our vehe­ment desires after the extraordinary pleasures and joyes of piety: and that if we could be content, after we used due diligence, with our driness and barrenness of spirit, with our dulness and want of vigour, nay, with our frailties and faults too, meerly out of submission to God, and because he thinks not fit to give us the pleasure of being wholly with­out them; it would be highly accep­table to him, and no less advantage­ous to us. If in all things, I mean, we could rest satisfied that God's will is done, though ours be denyed, [Page 320] if we could forbear to prosecute our own will even in those matters, and desire him to give us as much Life, and Spirit, and chearfulness and joy as he pleases; we should be so far from offending him, that he would take it for a very grateful piece of service to him.

This is not to teach any remisness in your desires and endeavours; but it supposes you do your best, and on­ly advises you, that if notwithstand­ing you cannot be as you would, you do not let your spirit fall into any im­patience or fretfulness. For this is to prefer God's pleasure above your own. It is a subjection of your will to his, in those points wherein you are most desirous to have it gratifi­ed. It is an unusual instance of re­signation to him; which declares there is nothing so dear to you, but you are willing to quit it, so you may but do well, and be accepted with Him.

[Page 321]And here remember these two things: First, that our solid comfort doth not depend upon doing every thing so readily, easily and delightfully as we would; but in accomplishing Gods will, however it be done. And 2dly, That Humility, Patience and Submission to God in the midst of our infirmities, may be more acceptable to him than that complacence and joy which we feel to arise meerly from the sense that we have of our strength and abilities. To be pleased in our successes is not so pleasing to God, as to be patient in our Contests. Nay, to rejoyce and triumph in our Victories, is nothing so good, as to be constant and resol­ved, notwithstanding that we are a little overcome. In those spiritual consolations which we thirst after, we do not always receive so much profit as we do pleasure▪ but in the want of them, if our wills be there­by more perfectly subdued to his, we receive both a very great benefit, and in the issue, no small pleasure.

[Page 322]You have seen perhaps, or you may imagine, the smoak of a Potters Fur­nace; how thick and black it is, as if it would make a Picture of Hell it self. Who would think that the Ves­sels of Clay, which are baked there, would not be burnt to ashes by the fury of the Fire; or that at lest they would come out as black as soote, by the foulness of the smoak? And yet when the Fire is put out, and the Ves­sels unfurnaced, you see there is no such thing: But that which was soft and yielding, is become hard and strong; and its complexion likewise is so much mended, that a Prince need not disdain the use of some of these Cups. Just thus it is with a distressed Soul, when it is covered with a Cloud, and wrapt in dark­ness; and burns thereby in a great and sore displeasure against it self. It is apt to think, that this sure is the Gate of Hell; that it is forsaken of God; and shall either perish in this condition, or not escape out of it, [Page 323] without much loss. But after a while, when the work of God is done, and the vapours are vanished and disap­pear, it findes it self to be grown much in firmness, purity and splen­dor; and that it is made a Vessel of honour fit for the Masters use. There is no loss of any thing, but of its self-will. Nothing is consumed but its softness and delicacy; which made it loth to be toucht.

The like may be said of many lit­tle passions and disorderly desires, to which our frail Natures are subject. If we can free our selves from one inordinate passion, which is a too vehement desire to be quite rid of them; it might bring us little less peace, than if we were: and our profiting would no less appear, in continuing still to do our duty, of which we complain that they are so great an hinderance. However, there is no reason for such conclusions as those, which good minds have been [Page 324] apt to make in a gloomy day; that if God loved them, he would not treat them after that manner. There is rather great reason, considering what hath been said, to be not only patient, but thankful to him in such a condition. For it is not inconsist­ent with his care and infinite kind­ness, to let us be obnoxious to those changes, and those weaknesses too, which I have mentioned: but you see plainly it must be so; and there­fore it is best to be well pleased with these Methods of our Heavenly Fa­ther, at least contented that it should be so.

And let me add this for a conclu­sion of this Discourse; that God may suffer some Persons to be thus overcast with darkness, and he may with-hold his gracious influences from them, for the sins of their for­mer life, before they were converted; which deserved he should never have afforded his grace unto them at all. [Page 325] What are we, should such Men say, that we should expect to live always under the light of his countenance? Alas! one age of darkness is too good for us; and we have reason to thank him, if we be not eternally banish­ed from his sight. Why should such poor things as we think to receive every day some extraordinary tokens of his Divine favour; when one good look from him, is enough to oblige us as long as we live? How much more reason have we to praise him, that all our days are not gloo­my, that our Sun is not always eclip­sed, or rather that our life is but one long Night; than to complain that a Cloud sometimes passes over us, or a Mist gathers about us? It is but fit that we should be hereby taught what it is to sin against God; and it is well for us that we were not sent to learn it in outer darkness. We are not ill dealt withall, if we can learn at so cheap a rate the value of par­doning mercy: but shall have cause [Page 326] in Heaven to praise God, that we paid no dearer for it. Is this all the punishment that is due for our many faults? Doth he not use us very kindly, if we be not quite cast out of his Presence? O what a joy will it be to us, to find that we are in his favour in the other World? And we may be content, if he please, to stay for our joy till that time; when we shall certainly know, whether we have reason to rejoyce or no.

But I shall say no more of this to you, who have spent your time so in­nocently and vertuously, that there is reason you should reap the fruit of it now in perpetual joy and satisfacti­on of heart, from the consideration of God's goodness to you. And I had wholly omitted this last Advice, did not I know the weakness of humane Nature to be so great, that the best disposed Souls may sometimes feel such alterations in them, as may make it very necessary. In which [Page 327] case, if ever you should find your self, doubt not to approach to God, and say to him, with all humility of spi­rit, some such words as these.