A Prayer

A Prayer.

Good God! what a mighty felicity is this to which we are called? How graciously have you joyn'd our duty and happiness together, and prescribed that for our work, the performance whereof is a great reward? And shall such silly worms be advanced to so great a height? Will you allow us to raise our eyes to You? Will you admit and accept our affection? Shall we receive the impression of your divine excellencies by beholding and admiring them, and partake of your infinite blessedness and glory, by loving You, and rejoycing in them? O the happiness of those souls that have broken the fetters of self-love, and dis-intangl'd their affection from every narrow and particular good, whose understandings are inlightned by your Holy Spirit, and their wills inlarged to the extent of your, who love you above all things, and all mankind for your sake! I am perswaded, O God, I am perswaded that I can never be happy, till my carnal and corrupt affections be mortify'd, and the pride and vanity of my spirit be subdued, and till I come seriously to despise the world, and think nothing of my self. But O when shall it once be? O when will you come to me, and satisfie my soul with your likeness, making me holy as you are holy, even in all manner of conversation? Have you given me a prospect of so great a felicity, and will you not bring me to it? Have you excited these desires in my soul, and will you not also satisfie them? O teach me to do your will, for you are my God, your Spirit is good, lead me to the land of uprightness. Quicken me, O Lord, for your name's sake, and perfect that which concerneth me: your mercy, O Lord, endureth for ever, forsake not the works of your own hands.

I have hitherto considered wherein true religion does consist, and how desirable a thing it is; but when one sees how infinitely distant the common temper and frame of men is from it, he may perhaps be ready to despond, and give over and think it utterly impossible to be attain'd. He may sit down in sadness, and bemoan himself and say in the anguish and bitterness of his spirit, They are happy indeed whose souls are awakened to the divine life, who are thus renew'd in the spirit of their minds; but alas! I am quite of another constitution, and am not able to effectuate so mighty a change: if outward observances could have done the business, I might have hoped to acquit my self by diligence and care; but since nothing but a new nature can serve the turn, what am I able to do? I could bestow all my goods in oblations to God, or alms to the poor, but cannot command that love and charity, without which this expence would profit me nothing. This gift of God cannot be purchased with money: if a man should give all the substance of his house for love it would utterly be contemned. I could pine and macerate my body, and undergo many hardships and troubles, but I cannot get all my corruptions starved, nor my affections wholly wean'd from earthly things: there is still some worldly desires lurking in my heart, and those vanities that I have shut out of doors, are alwayes getting in by the windowes. I am many times convinced of my own meanness, of the weakness of my body, and the far greater weakness of my soul; but this does rather beget indignation and discontent, than true humility in my spirit: and though I should come to think meanly of my self, yet I cannot endure that others should think so too. In a word, when I reflect on my highest and most specious attainments, I have reason to suspect that they are all but the effects of nature, the issues of self-love acting under several disguises: and this principle is so powerful and so deeply rooted in me, that I can never hope to be delivered from the dominion of it. I may toss and turn as a door on the hinges, but can never get clear off, or be quite unhing'd of self, which is still the center of all my motions: so that all the advantage I can draw from the discovery of religion, is but to see at a huge distance that felicity which I am not able to reach; like a man in a shipwrack, who discerns the land, and envies the happiness of those who are there; but thinks it impossible for himself to get ashoare.

These, I say, or such like desponding thoughts may arise in the minds of those persons who begin to conceive somewhat more of the nature and excellency of religion than before: they have spied the land, and seen that it's exceeding good, that it floweth with milk and honey; but they find they have the Children of Anak to grapple with, many powerful lusts and corruptions to overcome, and they fear they shall never prevail against them. But why should we give way to such discouraging suggestions? Why should we entertain such unreasonable fears, which damp our spirits and weaken our hands, and augment the difficulties of our way? Let us encourage ourselves, my dear Friend, let us encourage ourselves with those mighty aids we are to expect in this spiritual warfare, for greater is he that is for us, then all that can rise up against us; the Eternal God is our refuge, and underneath are the Everlasting Arms. Let us be strong in the Lord, and the power of his might, for he it is that shall tread down our enemies. God has a tender regard to the souls of men, and is infinitely willing to promote their welfare: he has condescended to our weakness, and declared with an oath, that he has no pleasure in our destruction. There is no such thing as despite or envy lodged in the bosom of that ever blessed Being, whose name and nature is Love. He created us at first in a happy condition; and now when we are fallen from it, he has laid help upon One that is Mighty to Save, has committed the care of our souls to no meaner Person than the Eternal Son of his Love. It is he that is the Captain of our salvation: and what enemies can be too strong for us, when we are fighting under his banners. Did not the Son of God come down from the bosom of his Father and pitch his tabernacle among the sons of men, that he might recover and propagate the divine life, and restore the image of God in their souls? All the mighty works which he performed, all the sad afflictions which he sustained had this for their scope and design, for this did he labor and toil, for this did he bleed and die. He was with child, he was in pain, and has he brought forth nothing but wind, has he wrought no deliverance in the earth? Shall he not see of the travail of his soul? Certainly it is impossible that this great contrivance of Heaven should prove abortive, that such a mighty undertaking should fail and miscarry. It has already been effectual for the salvation of many thousands, who were once as far from the kingdom of Heaven as we can suppose ourselves to be, and our High Priest continues forever, and is able to save them to the uttermost that come to God by him. He is tender and compassionate, he knows our infirmities, and had experience of our temptations, a bruised reed will he not break, and a smoking flax will he not quench, till he send forth judgment to victory. He has sent out his Holy Spirit, whose sweet but powerful breathings are still moving up and down in the world, to quicken and revive the souls of men, and awaken them to the sense and feeling of those divine things for which they were made, and is ready to assist such weak and languishing creatures as we are in our essays towards holiness and felicity: and when once it has taken hold of a soul, and kindled in it the smallest spark of divine love, it will be sure to preserve and cherish, and bring it forth into a flame, which many waters shall not quench, neither shall the floods be able to drown it. Whenever this day begins to dawn, and the Day-Star to arise in the heart, it will easily dispel the powers of darkness, and make ignorance and folly, and all the corrupt and selfish affections of men flee away as fast before it as the shades of the night, when the Sun comes out of his chambers. For the path of the just is as the shining light which shines more and more to the perfect day: they shall go on from strength to strength, till every one of them appear before God in Sion.

Why should we think it impossible that true goodness and universal love should ever come to sway and prevail in our souls? Is not this their primitive state and condition, their native and genuine constitution as they came first from the hands of their Maker. Sin and corruption are but usurpers, and though they have long kept the possession, yet from the beginning it was not so. That inordinate self-love which one would think were rooted in our very being, and interwoven with the constitution of our nature, is nevertheless of foreign extraction, and had no place at all in the state of integrity. We have still so much reason left us to condemn it: our understandings are easily convinced that we ought to be wholly devoted to him from whom we have our being, and to love him infinitely more than ourselves, who is infinitely better than we, and our wills would readily comply with this, if they were not disordered and put out of tune. And is not he who made our souls able to rectify and mend them again? Shall we not be able by his assistance to vanquish and expel those violent intruders, and turn to flight the arms of the aliens.

No sooner shall we take up arms in this holy war, but we shall have all the saints on earth, and all the angels in Heaven engaged on our party: the holy Church throughout the world is daily interceding with God for the success of all such endeavors, and doubtless those heavenly hosts above are nearly concerned in the interests of religion, and infinitely desirous to see the divine life thriving and prevailing in this inferior world; and that the will of God may be done by us on earth, as it is done by themselves in Heaven. And may we not then encourage ourselves as the Prophet did his servant, when he showed him the horses and chariots of fire, Fear not, for they that be with us are more than they that be against us.

Away then with all perplexing fears and desponding thoughts: to undertake vigorously, and rely confidently on the Divine assistance is more than half the conquest. Let us arise and be doing, and the Lord will be with us. It is true religion in the souls of men is the immediate work of God, and all our natural endeavours can neither produce it alone, nor merit those supernatural aids by which it must be wrought. The Holy Ghost must come upon us, and the power of the Highest must overshadow us, before that holy thing can be begotten and Christ be formed in us: but yet we must not expect that this whole work should be done without any concurring endeavours of ours. We must not lye loitering in the ditch and wait till Omnipotence pull us from there: no, no, we must bestir our selves and actuate these powers which we have already received. We must put forth our selves in our utmost capacities, and then we may hope that our labor shall not be in vain in the Lord. All the art and industry of man cannot form the smallest herb, or make a stalk of corn to grow in the field; it is the energy of nature, and the influences of Heaven which produce this effect; it is God who causes the grass to grow, and herb for the service of man; and yet no body will say that the labors of the husband-man are useless or unnecessary. So likewise the humane soul is immediately created by God; it is he who both forms and enlivens the child, and yet he has appointed the marriage-bed as the ordinary mean for the propagation of mankind. Though there must intervene a stroke of Omnipotence to effectuate this mighty change in our souls; yet ought we to do what we can to fit and prepare our selves, for we must break up our fallow ground and root out the weeds, and pull up the thorns, that so we may be the more ready to receive the seeds of grace and the dew of Heaven. It is true, God has been found of some who sought him not; he has cast himself in their way who were quite out of his; he has laid hold upon them, and stopped their course on a sudden; for so was Saint Paul converted in his journey to Damascus: but certainly this is not God's ordinary method of dealing with men, though he has not tied himself to means, yet he has tied us to the use of them; and we have never more reason to expect the Divine assistance, but when we are doing our utmost endeavours. It shall therefore be my next work to show what course we ought to take for attaining that blessed temper I have hitherto described. But here if in delivering my own thoughts, I shall chance to differ any thing from what is or may be said by others in this matter, I would not be therefore thought to contradict and oppose them, more than physicians do when they prescribe several remedies for the same disease, which perhaps are all useful and good. Every one may propose the method which he judges most proper and convenient, but he does not thereby pretend that the cure can never be effectuated, unless that be exactly observed. I doubt it has occasioned much unnecessary disquietude to some holy persons, that they have not found such a regular and orderly transaction in their souls, as they have seen described in books; that they have not passed through all those steps and stages of conversion, which some, who perhaps have felt them in themselves, have too peremptorily prescribed to others. God has several ways of dealing with the souls of men, and it suffices if the work be accomplished, whatever the methods have been.

Again, though in proposing directions, I must follow that order which the nature of things shall lead to; yet I do not mean that the same method should be so punctually observed in the practice; as if the later rules were never to be heeded till some considerable time have been spent in practising the former. The directions I intend be mutually conducive one to another, and are all to be performed as occasion shall serve, and we find our selves enabled to perform them.

But now that I may detain you no longer, if we desire to have our souls moulded to this holy frame, to become partakers of the Divine nature, and have Christ formed in our hearts, we must seriously resolve and carefully endeavour to evite and abandon all vitious and sinful practices. There can be no treaty of peace, till once we lay down these weapons of rebellion wherewith we fight against Heaven: nor can we expect to have our distempers cured, if we be daily feeding on poison. Every wilful sin, gives a mortal wound to the soul, and puts it at a greater distance from God and goodness; and we can never hope to have our hearts purified from corrupt affections, unless we cleanse our hands from vitious actions. Now in this case we cannot excuse our selves by the pretence of impossibility; for sure our outward man is some way in our power, we have some command of our feet and hands, and tongue, yes and of our thoughts and fancies too, at least so far as to divert them from impure and sinful objects, and to turn our mind another way: and we should find this power and authority much strengthened and advanced, if we were careful to manage and exercise it. Mean while I acknowledge our corruptions are so strong, and our temptations so many, that it will require a great deal of steadfastness and resolution, of watchfulness and care to preserve our selves even in this degree of innocence and purity.

And first let us inform ourselves well, what those sins are from which we ought to abstain. And here we must not take our measures from the maxims of the world, or the practices of those whom in charity we account good men: most people have very light apprehensions of these things, and are not sensible of any fault unless it be gross and flagitious, and scarce reckon any so great as that which they call Preciseness: and those who are more serious, do many times allow themselves too great latitude and freedom. Alas! how much pride and vanity, and passion, and humor, how much weakness and folly and sin does every day bewray itself in their converse and behavior. It may be they are humbled for it, and striving against it, and are daily gaining some ground; but then the progress is so small, and their failings so many, that we had need to choose an exacter pattern. Every one of us must answer for himself, and the practices of others will never warrant and secure us. It is the highest folly to regulate our actions by any other standard, than that by which they must be judged. If ever we would cleanse our way, it must be by taking heed thereto according to the Word of God: and that Word which is quick and powerful, and sharper than any edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart, will certainly discover many things to be sinful and heinous, which pass for very innocent in the eyes of the world. Let us therefore imitate the Psalmist, who says, "Concerning the works of men, by the words of your lips, I have kept myself from the path of the destroyer." Let us acquaint ourselves well, with the strict and holy laws of our religion. Let us consider the discourses of our blessed Savior, (especially that divine Sermon on the Mount) and the writings of his holy Apostles, where an ingenuous and unbiased mind may clearly discern those limits and bounds by which our actions ought to be confined. And then let us never look upon any sin as light and inconsiderable; but be fully persuaded, that the smallest is infinitely heinous in the sight of God, and prejudicial to the souls of men; and that if we had the right sense of things, we would be deeply affected with the least irregularities, than now we are with the greatest crimes.

But now among those things which we discover to be sinful, there will be some, to which, through the disposition of our nature, or long custom, or the endearments of pleasure, we are so much wedded, that it will be like the cutting off the right hand, or pulling out the right eye, to abandon them. But must we therefore sit down and wait till all difficulties be over, and every temptation be gone: this were to imitate the fool in the Poet, who stood the whole day at the river side till all the water should run by. We must not indulge our inclinations, as we do little children, till they grow weary of the thing they are unwilling to let go. We must not continue our sinful practices in hope that the divine grace will one day overpower our spirits, and make us hate them for their own deformity.

Let us suppose the worst, that we are utterly destitute of any supernatural principle, and want that taste by which we should discern and abhor perverse things; yet sure we are capable of some considerations which may be of force to perswade us to this reformation of our lives. If the inward deformity and heynous nature of sin cannot affect us; at least we may be frighted by those dreadful consequences that attend it. That same selfish principle which pusheth us forward to the pursuit of sinful pleasures, will make us loath to buy them at the rate of everlasting misery. Thus we may encounter self-love with its own weapons, and imploy one natural inclination for repressing the exorbitancies of another. Let us therefore accustom our selves to consider seriously what a fearful thing it must needs be to irritate and offend that infinite Being on whom we hang and depend every moment, who needs but to withdraw his mercies to make us miserable; or his assistance to make us nothing. Let us frequently remember the shortness and uncertainty of our lives, and how that after we have taken a few turns more in the world, and conversed a little longer among men, we must all go down to the dark and silent graves, and carry nothing along but anguish and regret of all our sinful enjoyments, and then think what horror must needs seize the guilty soul, to find it self naked and all alone before the severe and impartial Judge of the world, to render an exact account not only of its more important and considerable transactions; but of every word that the tongue has uttered, and the swiftest and most secret thought that ever passed through the mind. Let us sometimes represent to our selves the terrors of that dreadful day, when the foundations of the earth shall be shaken, and the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, and the present frame of nature be dissolved, and our eyes shall see the Blessed Jesus who came once into the world in all humility to visit us, to purchase pardon for us, and beseech us to accept of it, now appearing in the majesty of his glory, and descending from Heaven in a flaming fire to take vengeance on those that have despised his mercy, and perished in rebellion against him. When all the hidden things of darkness shall be brought to light, and the counsels of the heart shall be made manifest. When those secret impurities and subtile frauds whereof the world did never suspect us, shall be exposed and laid open to public view, and many thousand actions which we never dreamed to be sinful, or else had altogether forgotten, shall be charged home upon our consciences with such evident convictions of guilt, that we shall neither be able to deny nor excuse them. Then shall all the angels in Heaven, and all the saints that ever lived on the earth approve that dreadful sentence which shall be passed on wicked men, and those who perhaps did love and esteem them when they lived in the world, shall look upon them with indignation and abhorrence, and never make one request for their deliverance. Let us consider the eternal punishments of damned souls which are shadowed forth in Scripture by metaphors taken from those things that are most terrible and grievous in the world, and yet all does not suffice to conveigh to our minds any full apprehension of them. When we have joyned together the importance of all these expressions, and added to them whatever our fancy can conceive of misery and torment, we must still remember that all this comes infinitely short of the truth and the reality of the thing.

It's true, this is a sad and melancholy subject, there is anguish and horror in the consideration of it; but sure it must be infinitely more dreadful to endure it; and such thoughts as these may be very useful to fright us from the courses that would lead us there, how fond soever we may be of sinful pleasures, the fear of Hell would make us abstain. Our most forward inclinations will startle and give back when pressed with that question in the Prophet, Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings.

To this very purpose it is that the terrors of another world are so frequently represented in holy Writ, and that in such terms as are most proper to affect and influence a carnal mind. These fears can never suffice to make any person truly good; but certainly they may restrain us from much evil, and have often made way for more ingenuous and kindly impressions.

But it will not suffice to consider those things once and again, nor to form resolutions of abandoning our sins, unless we maintain a constant guard, and be continually watching against them. Sometimes the mind is awakened to see the dismal consequences of a vitious life, and straight we are resolved to reform: but alas! it presently falleth asleep, and we lose that prospect which we had of things, and then temptations take the advantage, they solicite and importune us continually, and so do frequently engage our consent before we are aware. It is the folly and ruine of most people that they live at adventure, and take part in every thing that comes in their way, seldom considering what they are about to say or do. If we would have our resolution take effect, we must take heed to our ways, and set a watch to the door of our lips, and examine the motions that arise in our heart, cause them tell us from where they come, and whither they go; whether it be pride or passion, or any corrupt and vitious humor that prompteth us to any design, and whether God will be offended, or any body harmed by it. And if we have no time for long reasonings, let us at least turn our eyes toward God, and place our selves in his presence to ask his leave and approbation for what we do. Let us consider our selves under the all-seeing eye of that Divine Majesty, as in the midst of an infinite globe of light, which compasseth us about both behind and before, and pierceth to the innermost corners of our soul. The sense and remembrance of the Divine Presence, is the most ready and effectual mean, both to discover what is unlawful, and to restrain us from it. There are some things a person could have a shift to palliate or defend, and yet he dares not look Almighty God in the face and adventure upon them. If we look into him we shall be lightned; if we set him alwayes before us, he will guide us by his eye, and instruct us in the way wherein we ought to walk.

This care and watchfulness over our actions, must be seconded by frequent and serious reflections upon them, not only that we may obtain the divine mercy and pardon for our sins, by an humble and sorrowful acknowledgment of them; but also that we may reinforce and strengthen our resolutions, and learn to decline or resist the temptations, by which we have been formerly foiled. It is an advice worthy of a Christian, though it did first drop from a Heathen pen; that before we betake our selves to rest, we renew and examine all the passages of the day, that we may have the comfort of what we have done aright, and may redress what we find to have been amiss, and make the shipwracks of one day be as marks to direct our course in another. This may be called the very art of virtuous living, and would contribute wonderfully to advance our reformation, and preserve our innocency. But withal we must not forget to implore the divine assistance, especially against those sins that do most easily beset us: and though it be supposed that our hearts are not yet moulded to that spiritual frame, which should render our devotions acceptable, yet methinks such considerations as have been proposed to deter us from sin, may also stir us up to some natural seriousness, and make our prayers against it as earnest at least, as they are wont to be against other calamities: and I doubt not God who hears the cry of the Ravens, will have some regard even to such petitions as proceed from those natural passions which himself has implanted in us: besides that those prayers against sin will be powerful engagements on our selves to excite us to watchfulness and care, and common ingenuity will make us ashamed to relapse to those faults, which we have lately regrated before God, and against which we have begged his assistance.

Thus are we to make the first essay for recovering the divine life, by restraining the natural inclinations that they break not out into sinful practises: but now I must add, that Christian prudence will teach us to abstain from gratifications that are not simply unlawful, and that not only, that we may secure our innocence, which would be in continual hazard, if we should strain our liberty to the utmost point, and be always walking on the marches, but also that hereby we may weaken the forces of nature, and teach our appetites to obey. We must do with our selves as prudent parents with their children, who cross their wills in many little indifferent things, to make them manageable and submissive in more considerable instances. He who would mortify the pride and vanity of his spirit, should stop his ears to the most deserved praises, and sometimes forbear his just vindication, from the censures and aspersions of others, especially if they reflect only upon his prudence and conduct, and not on his virtue and innocence. He who would check a vindictive humor, would do well to deny himself the satisfaction of representing to others the injuries which he has sustained. And if we would so take heed to our ways, that we sin not with our tongue, we must accustom our selves much to solitude and silence, and sometimes with the Psalmist hold our peace even from good, till once we have gotten some command of that unruly member. Thus, I say, we may bind up our natural inclinations, and make our appetites more moderate in their cravings, by accustoming them to frequent refusals: but it is not enough to have them under violence, and restraint.

Our next Essay must be to wean our affections from created things, and all the delights and entertainments of the lower life, which sink and depress the souls of men, and retard their motions toward God and Heaven: And this we must do by possessing our minds with a deep persuasion of the vanity and emptiness of worldly enjoyments. This is an ordinary theme, and every body can make declamations upon it; but alas! how few understand and believe what they say: These notions float in our brains, and come sliding off our tongues, but we have no deep impression of them on our spirits, we feel not the truth which we pretend to believe: We can tell that all the glory and splendor, all the pleasures and enjoyments of the World, are vanity and nothing; and yet these nothings take up all our thoughts, and ingross all our affections, they stifle the better inclinations of our soul, and inveigle us into many a sin: it may be in a sober mood, we give them the slight, and resolve to be no longer deluded with them; but these thoughts seldom out-live the next temptation, the vanities which we have shut out at the door get in at a postern: there are still some pretensions, some hopes that flatter us; and after we have been frustrated a thousand times, we must continually be repeating the experiment: The least difference of circumstances is enough to delude us, and make us expect that satisfaction in one thing, which we have missed in another: but could we once get clearly off, and come to a real and serious contempt of worldly things, this were a very considerable advancement in our way. The soul of Man is of a vigorous and active nature, and has in it a raging and unextinguishable thirst, an immaterial kind of fire, always catching at some object or other, in conjunction wherewith it thinks to be happy; and were it once rent from the World, and all the bewitching enjoyments under the Sun, it would quickly search after some higher and more excellent object, to satisfy its ardent, and importunate cravings, and being no longer dazzled with glistering vanities, would fix on that supreme and all-sufficient Good, where it should discover such beauty and sweetness as would charm and over-power all its affections. The love of the World, and the love of God, are like the scales of a balance, as the one falleth, the other does rise: when our natural inclinations prosper, and the creature is exalted in our soul, religion is faint, and does languish; but when earthly objects wither away, and lose their beauty, and the soul begins to cool and flag in its prosecution of them, then the seeds of grace take root, and the divine life begins to flourish and prevail. It does therefore nearly concern us to convince our selves of the emptiness and vanity of creature-enjoyments, and reason our heart out of love of them: let us seriously consider all that our reason or our faith, our own experience, or the observation of others can suggest to this effect. Let us ponder the matter over and over, and fix our thoughts on this truth, till we become really persuaded of it: amidst all our pursuits and designs, let us stop and ask our selves, For what end is all this? At what do I aim? Can the gross and muddy pleasures of sense, or a heap of white or yellow earth, or the esteem and affection of silly creatures like my self satisfy a rational and immortal soul? Have I not tried these things already? Will they have a higher relish, and yield me more contentment to morrow than yesterday, or the next year than they did the last? There may be some little difference between that which I am now pursuing, and that which I enjoyed before; but sure my former enjoyments did show as pleasant, and promise as fair before I attained them: like the rainbow they looked very glorious at a distance, but when I approached, I found nothing but emptiness and vapor. O what a poor thing should the life of man be, if it were capable of no higher enjoyments!

I cannot insist on this subject, and there is the less need when I remember to whom I am writing. Yes (my dear Friend) you have had as great experience of the emptiness and vanity of humane things, and have at present as few worldly engagements as any that I know: I have sometimes reflected on those passages of your life wherewith you have been pleased to acquaint me: and methinks through all I can discern a design of the divine Providence to wean your affections from every thing here below. The trials you have had of those things which the World dotes upon, has taught you to despise them, and you have found by experience that neither the endowments of nature, nor the advantages of fortune are sufficient for happiness: that every rose has its thorn, and there may be a worm at the root of the fairest gourd, some secret and undiscerned grief which may make a person deserve the pity of those who perhaps do admire or envy their supposed felicity. If any earthly comforts have got too much of your heart, I think they have been your relations and friends, and the dearest of those are removed out of the World, so that you must raise your mind towards Heaven, when you would think upon them. Thus God has provided that your heart may be loosed from the World, and he may not have any rival in your affection, which I have always observed to be so large and unbounded, so noble and dis-interested, that no inferior object can answer or deserve it.

When we have got our corruptions restrained, and our natural appetites and inclinations towards worldly things in some measure subdued, we must proceed to such exercises as have a more immediate tendance to excite and awaken the Divine Life. And first let us endeavour conscientiously to perform those duties which Religion does require, and whereunto it would incline us if it did prevail in our Souls. If we cannot get our inward disposition presently changed, let us study at least to regulate our outward deportment. If our hearts be not yet inflamed with Divine Love, let us however own our allegiance to that infinite Majesty, by attending his Service, and listening to his Word, by speaking reverently of his Name, and praising his goodness, and exhorting others to serve and obey him. If we want that charity and those bowels of compassion which we ought to have towards our Neighbours, yet must we not omit any occasion of doing them good. If our hearts be haughty and proud, we must nevertheless study a modest and humble deportment. These external performances are of little value in themselves, yet may they help us forward to better things. The Apostle indeed tells us, that bodily exercise profits little; but he seems not to affirm that it is altogether useless, it is always good to be doing what we can, for then God is wont to pity our weakness, and assist our feeble endeavours. And when true charity and humility and other graces of the Divine Spirit come to take root in our Souls, they will actuate themselves more freely and with the less difficulty that we have been accustomed to express them in our outward conversations. Nor need we fear the imputation of hypocrisy, though our actions do thus somewhat out-run our affections, seeing they do still proceed from a sense of our duty, and our design is not to appear better than we are, but that we may really become so.

But as inward acts have a more immediate influence on the Soul to mould it to a right temper and frame; so ought we to be most frequent and sedulous in the exercise of those. Let us be often lifting up our hearts towards God; and if we do not say that we love him above all things, let us at least acknowledge that it is our duty and would be our happiness so to do. Let us regrate the dishonour done to him by foolish and sinful men, and applaud the praises and adorations that are given him by that blessed and glorious company above. Let us resign and yield our selves up to him a thousand times to be governed by his laws, and disposed upon at his pleasure. And though our stubborn hearts should start back and refuse, yet let us tell him we are convinced that his will is always just and good, and therefore desire him to do with us whatever he pleases whether we will or not. And so, for begetting in us an universal charity towards men, we must be frequently putting up wishes for their happiness, and blessing every person that we see; and when we have done any thing for the relief of the miserable, we may second it with earnest desires that God would take care of them, and deliver them out of all their distresses.

Thus should we exercise our selves to godliness, and when we are employing the powers that we have, the Spirit of God is wont to strike in, and elevate these acts of our Soul beyond the pitch of nature, and give them a Divine impression. And after the frequent reiteration of these we will find our selves more inclined to them, they flowing with greater freedom and ease.

I shall mention but two other means for begetting that holy and Divine temper of spirit, which is the subject of the present discourse. And the first is a deep and serious consideration of the truths of our Religion, and that both as to the certainty and importance of them. The assent which is ordinarily given to Divine truths is very faint and languid, very weak and ineffectual, flowing only from a blind inclination to follow that Religion which is in the fashion, or a lazy indifferency and unconcernedness whether things be so or not. Men are unwilling to quarrel with the Religion of their country, and since all their neighbours are Christians, they are content to be so too. But they are seldom at the pains to consider the evidences of those truths, or to ponder the importance and tendency of them; and from there it is that they have so little influence on their affections and practice. Those spiritless and paralytic thoughts (as one does rightly term them) are not able to move the will, and direct the hand. We must therefore endeavour to work up our minds to a serious belief and full persuasion of Divine truths, to a sense and feeling of spiritual things. Our thoughts must dwell upon them till we be both convinced of them, and deeply affected with them. Let us urge forward our spirits, and make them approach the invisible world, and fix our mind upon immaterial things, till we clearly perceive that these are no dreams, no, that all things are dreams and shadows besides them. When we look about us and behold the beauty and magnificence of this goodly frame, the order and harmony of the whole creation, let our thoughts from there take their flight toward that Omnipotent Wisdom and Goodness which did at first produce, and does still establish and uphold the same. When we reflect upon our selves, let us consider that we are not a mere piece of organized matter, a curious and well-contrived engine, that there is more in us than flesh, and blood, and bones, even a Divine sparkle, capable to know, and love, and enjoy our Maker; and though it be now exceedingly clogged with its dull and lumpish companion, yet ere long it shall be delivered, and can subsist without the body, as well as that can do without the clothes which we throw off at our pleasure. Let us often withdraw our thoughts from this earth, this scene of misery and folly and sin, and raise them towards that more vast and glorious world, whose innocent and blessed inhabitants solace themselves eternally in the Divine Presence, and know no other passion, but an unmixed joy, and an unbounded love. And then consider how the blessed Son of God came down to this lower world to live among us and die for us, that he might bring us to a portion of the same felicity; and think how he has overcome the sharpness of death, and opened the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers, and is now set down on the right hand of Majesty on high, and yet is not the less mindful of us, but receives our prayers, and presents them to his Father, and is daily visiting his Church with the influences of his Spirit, as the Sun reaches us with his beams.

The serious and frequent consideration of these and such other divine truths, is the most proper method to beget that lively faith which is the foundation of religion, the spring and root of the divine life. Let me further suggest some particular subjects of meditation for producing the several branches of it. And first to inflame our souls with the love of God, let us consider the excellency of his nature, and his love and kindness towards us. It is little we know of the divine perfections, and yet that little may suffice to fill our souls with admiration and love, to ravish our affections as well as to raise our wonder, for we are not merely creatures of sense that we should be uncapable of any other affection but that which entereth by the eyes. The character of any excellent person whom we have never seen will many times engage our hearts, and make us hugely concerned in all his adventures: and what is it I pray you that engages us so much to those with whom we converse? I cannot think that it is merely the color of their face, or their comely proportions, else we should fall in love with statues and pictures, and flowers: these outward accomplishments may a little delight the eye, but would never be able to prevail so much on the heart, if they did not represent some vital perfection. We either see or apprehend some greatness of mind or vigor of spirit, or sweetness of disposition, some sprightliness or wisdom or goodness which charms our spirit and commands our love. Now these perfections are not obvious to the sight, the eyes can only discern the signs and effects of them: and if it be the understanding that directs the affection, and vital perfections prevail with it, certainly the excellencies of the divine nature (the traces whereof we cannot but discover in every thing we behold) would not fail to engage our hearts if we did seriously view and regard them. Shall we not be infinitely more transported with that almighty wisdom and goodness which fills the universe, and displays itself in all the parts of the creation, which establishes the frame of nature, and turns the mighty wheels of providence, and keeps the world from disorder and ruin; than with the faint rays of the same perfections which we meet with in our fellow creatures? Shall we doat on the scattered pieces of a rude and imperfect picture, and never be affected with the original beauty? This were an unaccountable stupidity and blindness: whatever we find lovely in a friend or in a saint ought not to engross but to elevate our affection. We should conclude with ourselves, that if there be so much sweetness in a drop, there must be infinitely more in the fountain; if there be so much splendor in a ray, what must the Sun be in its glory?

Nor can we pretend the remoteness of the object, as if God were at too great a distance for our converse or our love: he is not far from every one of us, for in him we live and move and have our being. We cannot open our eyes, but we must behold some vestige of his glory, and we cannot turn them toward him, but we shall be sure to find his intent upon us, waiting as it were to catch a look ready to entertain the most intimate fellowship and communion with us. Let us therefore endeavour to raise our minds to the clearest conceptions of the divine nature: let us consider all that his works do declare or his Word does discover of him to us, and let us especially contemplate that visible representation of him which was made in our own nature by his Son; who was the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his Person, and who appeared in the world to discover at once what God is, and what we ought to be. Let us represent him to our minds as we find him described in the Gospel; and there we shall behold the perfections of the divine nature though covered with the veil of human infirmities: and when we have framed to ourselves the clearest notion that we can of a Being infinite in power, in wisdom, and goodness, the Author and Fountain of all perfections, let us fix the eyes of our soul upon it, that our eyes may affect our heart, and while we are musing the fire will burn.

Especially if hereunto we add the consideration of God's favor and good-will towards us: nothing is more powerful to engage our affection than to find that we are beloved. Expressions of kindness are always pleasing and acceptable to us, though the person should be otherways mean and contemptible: but to have the love of one who is altogether lovely, to know that the glorious majesty of Heaven has any regard to us, how must it astonish and delight us, how must it overcome our spirits, and melt our hearts, and put our whole soul to a flame. Now as the Word of God is full of the expressions of his love towards man, so all his works do loudly proclaim it: he gave us our being, and by preserving us in it, does renew the donation every moment. He has placed us in a rich and well furnished world, and liberally provided for all our necessities. He raineth down blessings from Heaven upon us, and causes the earth to bring forth our provision. He gives us our food and raiment, and while we are spending the productions of one year, he is preparing for us against another. He sweetens our lives with innumerable comforts, and gratifies every faculty with suitable objects. The eye of his providence is always upon us, and he watches for our safety when we are fast asleep, neither minding him, nor ourselves. But least we should think these testimonies of his kindness less considerable because they are the easy issues of his omnipotent power, and do not put him into any trouble or pain, he has taken a more wonderful method to endear himself to us: he has testified his affection to us, by suffering as well as by doing; and because he could not suffer in his own nature, he assumed ours. The Eternal Son of God did clothe himself with the infirmities of our flesh, and left the company of those innocent and blessed spirits, who knew well how to love and adore him, that he might dwell among men, and wrestle with the obstinacy of that rebellious race, to reduce them to their allegiance and felicity and then to offer himself up as a sacrifice and propitiation for them. I remember one of the poets has an ingenious fancy to express the passion wherewith he found himself overcome after a long resistance, that the god of love had shot all his golden arrows at him, but could never pierce his heart, till at length he put himself to the bow and darted himself straight into his breast. Methinks this does some way adumbrate God's method of dealing with men: he had long contended with a stubborn world, and thrown down many a blessing upon them, and when all his other gifts could not prevail, he at last made a gift of himself, to testify his affection, and conciliate theirs. The account which we have of our Savior's life in the Gospel does all along present us with the story of his love, all the pains that he took and the troubles that he endured were the wonderful effects and uncontrollable evidences of it. But O that last, that dismal scene! Is it possible to remember it and question his kindness, or deny him ours? Here, here it is (my dear friend) that we should fix our most serious and solemn thoughts, that Christ may dwell in our hearts by faith, and we may be rooted and grounded in love, comprehending with all the saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height: and knowing the love of Christ which passes knowledge, that so we may be filled with all the fullness of God.

We ought also frequently to reflect on those particular tokens of favor and love, which God has bestowed on ourselves, how long he has borne with our follies and sins, and waited to be gracious to us, wrestling, as it were, with the stubbornness of our hearts, and essaying every method to reclaim us. We should keep a register in our minds of all the eminent blessings and deliverances we have met with, some whereof have been so conveyed that we might clearly perceive they were not the issues of chance, but the gracious effects of the divine favor, and the signal returns of our prayers. Nor ought we to embitter the thoughts of these things with any harsh or unworthy suspicion, as if they were designed on purpose to enhance our guilt, and heighten our eternal damnation. No, no, my friend, God is Love, and he has no pleasure in the ruin of his creatures: if they abuse his goodness, and turn his grace into wantonness, and thereby plunge themselves into the greater depth of guilt and misery, this is the effect of their obstinate wickedness, and not the design of those benefits which he bestows.

If these considerations had once begotten in our hearts a real love and affection towards Almighty God, that will easily lead us to the other branches of religion, and therefore I shall need say the less to them.

We shall find our hearts enlarged in charity towards men, by considering the relation wherein they stand to God, and the impressions of his image which are stamped upon them. They are not only his creatures, the workmanship of his hands, but such of whom he takes special care, and for whom he has a very dear and tender regard, having laid the designs of their happiness before the foundations of the world, and being willing to live and converse with them to all the ages of eternity. The meanest and most contemptible person whom we behold is the offspring of Heaven, one of the children of the Most High; and however unworthily he might behave himself of that relation, so long as God has not abdicated and disowned him by a final sentence, he will have us to acknowledge him as one of his, and as such to embrace him with a sincere and cordial affection. You know what a great concernment we are wont to have for those that do any ways belong to the person whom we love, how gladly we lay hold on every opportunity to gratify the child or servant of a friend; and sure our love towards God would as naturally spring forth in charity towards men, did we mind the interest that he is pleased to take in them, and consider that every soul is dearer to him, than all the material world; and that he did not account the blood of his Son too great a price for their redemption.

Again, as all men stand in a near relation to God, so they have still so much of his image stamped on them, as may oblige and excite us to love them. In some this image is more eminent and conspicuous, and we can discern the lovely treats of wisdom and goodness; and though in others it be miserably sullied and defaced, yet is it not altogether razed, some lineaments at least do still remain. All men are endued with rational and immortal souls, with understanding and wills capable of the highest and most excellent things; and if they be at present disordered and put out of tune by wickedness and folly, this may indeed move our compassion, but ought not in reason to extinguish our love. When we see a person of a rugged humor and perverse disposition, full of malice and dissimulation, very foolish and very proud; it is hard to fall in love with an object that presents it self to us under an idea so little grateful and lovely. But when we shall consider these evil qualities as the diseases and distempers of a soul which in it self is capable of all that wisdom and goodness wherewith the best of saints have ever been adorned, and which may one day come to be raised to such heights of perfection as shall render it a fit companion for the holy angels, this will turn our aversion into pity, and make us behold him with such resentments, as we should have when we did look on a beautiful body that were mangled with wounds, or disfigured by some loathsome disease; and however we hate the vices, we shall not cease to love the man.

In the next place for purifying our souls, and dis-intangling our affections from the pleasures and enjoyments of this lower life, let us frequently ponder the excellency and dignity of our nature, and what a shameful and unworthy thing it is for so noble and divine a creature as the soul of man, to be sunk and immersed in brutish and sensual lusts, or amused with airy and phantastical delights, and so to lose the relish of solid and spiritual pleasures, that the beast should be fed and pampered, and the man and the Christian be starved in us. Did we but mind who we are, and for what we were made, this would teach us in a right sense to reverence and stand in awe of our selves, it would beget a holy modesty and shamefacedness, and make us very shy and reserved in the use of the most innocent and allowable pleasures.

It will be very effectual to the same purpose, that we frequently raise our minds toward Heaven, and represent to our thoughts those joys that are at God's right hand, those pleasures that endure for evermore; for every man that has this hope in him purifies himself even as he is pure. If our heavenly country be much in our thoughts, it will make us as strangers and pilgrims to abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul, and keep our selves unspotted in this world, that we may be fit for the enjoyments and felicities of the other. But then we must see that our notions of Heaven be not gross and carnal, that we dream not of a Mahometan Paradise, nor rest on those metaphors and similitudes by which these joys are sometimes represented, for this might perhaps have a quite contrary effect, it might intangle us further in carnal affections, and we should be ready to indulge our selves a very liberal foretaste of those pleasures wherein we had placed our everlasting felicity. But when we come once to conceive aright of those pure and spiritual pleasures, when the happiness we propose to our selves is from the sight and love and enjoyment of God, and our minds are filled with the hopes and forethoughts of that blessed estate, O how mean and contemptible will all things here below appear in our eyes? With what disdain will we reject the gross and muddy pleasures, that would deprive us of those celestial enjoyments, or any way unfit and indispose us for them.

The last branch of religion is humility, and sure we can never want matter of consideration for begetting it: all our wickednesses and imperfections, all our follies and our sins may help to pull down that fond and overweening conceit which we are apt to entertain of our selves. That which makes any body esteem us, is their knowledge or apprehension of some little good, and their ignorance of a great deal of evil that may be in us. Were they throughly acquainted with us, they would quickly change their opinion. The thoughts that pass in our heart in the best and most serious day of our life being exposed to public view, would render us either hateful or ridiculous; and now however we conceal our failings from one another, yet sure we are conscious to them our selves, and some serious reflections upon them, would much qualify and allay the vanity of our spirits. Thus holy men have come really to think worse of themselves, than of any other person in the world: not but that they knew that gross and scandalous vices are in their nature more heinous than the surprisals of temptation and infirmity; but because they were much more intent on their own miscarriages, than on those of their neighbors, and did consider all the aggravations of the one, and every thing that might be supposed to diminish and alleviate the other.

But it is well observed by a pious writer, that the deepest and most pure humility does not so much arise from the consideration of our own faults and defects, as from a calm and quiet contemplation of the divine purity and goodness. Our spots never appear so clearly, as when we place them before this infinite light; and we never seem less in our own eyes, than when we look down upon our selves from on high. O how little, how nothing do all those shadows of perfection then appear for which we are wont to value our selves! That humility which comes from a view of our own sinfulness and misery, is more turbulent and boisterous; but the other lays us full as low, and wants nothing but that anguish and vexation wherewith our souls are apt to boil when they are the nearest object of our thoughts.

There remains yet another mean for begetting a holy and religious disposition in the soul, and that is fervent and hearty prayer. Holiness is the gift of God, indeed the greatest gift he does bestow, or we are capable to receive, and he has promised his holy Spirit to those that ask it of him. In prayer we make the nearest approaches to God, and lye open to the influences of heaven. Then it is that the Sun of Righteousness does visit us with directest rayes, and dissipateth our darkness and imprinteth his image on our souls. I cannot now insist on the advantages of this exercise, or the dispositions wherewith it ought to be performed; and there is no need I should, there being so many books that treat on this subject. I shall only tell you, that as there is one sort of prayer wherein we make use of the voice which is necessary in public, and may sometimes have its own advantages in private, and another wherein though we utter no sound, yet we conceive the expressions and form the words, as it were, in our mind, (which I presume is most commonly used in private devotion) so there is a third and more sublime kind of prayer, wherein the soul takes a higher flight, and having collected all its forces by long and serious meditation, it darteth it self (so to speak) towards God in sighs and groans and thoughts too big for expression. As when after a deep contemplation of the divine perfections appearing in all his works of wonder, it addresseth it self to him in the profoundest adoration of his majesty and glory; or when after sad reflections on its vileness and miscarriages, it prostrates it self before him with the greatest confusion and sorrow, not daring to lift up its eyes, or utter one word in his presence; or when having well considered the beauty of holiness, and the unspeakable felicity of those that are truly good, it panteth after God, and sendeth up such vigorous and ardent desires as no words should be sufficient to express, continuing and repeating each of these acts as long as it finds it self upheld by the force and impulse of the previous meditation.

This mental prayer is of all other the most effectual to purifie the soul, and dispose it to a holy and religious temper, and may be termed the great secret of devotion, and one of the most powerful instruments of the divine life. And it may be the Apostle has a peculiar respect to it when he says, that the Spirit helpeth our infirmities, making intercession for us, with groanings that cannot be uttered, or, as the original may bear, that cannot be worded. Yet I do not so recommend this sort of prayer, as to supersede the use of the other: for we have so many several things to pray for, and every petition of this nature, requireth so much time, and so great an intention of spirit, that it were not easie therein to overtake them all. To say nothing that the deep sighs and heavings of the heart which are wont to accompany it, are something oppressive to nature, and make it hard to continue long in them. But certainly a few of those inward aspirations will do more than a great many fluent and melting expressions.

Thus (my dear Friend) I have briefly proposed the method which I judge proper for moulding the soul to a holy frame; and the same means which serve to beget this divine temper, must still be practised for strengthning and advancing it. And therefore I shall recommend but one more for that purpose, and 'tis the frequent and conscientious use of that holy sacrament, which is peculiarly appointed to nourish and increase the spiritual life, when once it is begotten in the soul. All the instruments of religion do meet together in this ordinance; and while we address our selves to it, we are put to practise all the rules which were mentioned before. Then it is, that we make the severest survey of our actions, and lay the strictest obligations on our selves. Then are our minds raised to the highest contempt of the world, and every grace does exercise it self with the greatest activity and vigor. All the subjects of contemplation do there present themselves to us with the greatest advantage; and then, if ever, does the soul make its most powerful sally's towards heaven, and assault it with a holy and acceptable force. And certainly the neglect or careless performance of this duty, is one of the chief causes that bedwarfs our religion, and makes us continue of so low a size.

But it is time I should put a close to this tedious letter, which is grown to a far greater bulk then at first I intended. If these poor papers can do you the smallest service, I shall think my self very happy in this undertaking; at least I am hopeful you will kindly accept the sincere endeavours of a person who would fain acquit himself of some part of that which he owes you.