THE SERIOUS CALL to a Devout and Holy Life,
is William Law’s fifth work in the order of publi-
cation, printed in the year 1729, when he was about
forty-three years of age. It was written by him
during the early portion of his ten year’s residence
with the Gibbon family at Putney, with whom he resided in the
capacity of Spiritual Director, and by whom, as most readers
know, he was greatly esteemed.
The ‘Serious Call’ is the most widely and generally known
of all William Law’s works; and is undoubtedly his fame-
piece: if not, as some think in a certain sense, his master-
piece. It has passed through some hundreds of editions by
various Publishers, from the year of its publication to the present
time; and has, more than any other religious work, attracted--
as it will ever continue to do--the notice and admiration, and
its precepts the emulation, of successive generations of the
wisest and best among men. Of such, various authoritative
opinions have been quoted, in acknowledgment and support of
the great excellence of this work: which excellence, the most
ordinary reader may at once by its perusal, discern for himself.
It is supposed that the Character of ‘Paternus’ described in
this work, was that of William Law’s father; and that
‘Eusebia’ represented his widowed-mother; but this is mere
conjecture: both portraits, as that of ‘Ouranius’--which is like-
wise supposed to be William Law himself--being, more pro-
bably, ideals of his own. These and other ‘Characters,’ are
cleverly and humorously described--in particular that of ‘Mun-
danus,’ who ‘has made a great figure in business,’ which he has
carried to its greatest improvement and perfection. ‘The only
one thing which has not fallen under his improvement nor re-
ceived any benefit from his judicious mind, is his devotion.
Prefatory Advertisement.
This is just in the same poor state it was when he was only six
years of age, and the old man prays now in that little form of
words which his mother used to hear him repeat night and
morning. This Mundanus, who hardly ever saw the poorest
utensil, or ever took the meanest trifle into his hand, without
considering how it might be made or used to better advantage,
has gone all his life long praying in the same manner as when
he was a child without ever considering how much better or
oftener he might pray. ... If Mundanus sees a book of devo-
tion he passes it by as he does a spelling-book, because he
remembers that he learned to pray so many years ago under
his mother when he learned to spell. ...’
It will probably not escape the attention of the thoughtful
reader that in Chapter XX., upon ‘Intercessory Prayer,’ William
Law sets our duty towards our Neighbour--particularly towards
In it William Law reminds us that when is ‘let loose any
ill-natured passion, either of hatred, or contempt, to wards--as
you suppose--an ill man, consider what you would think of
another, who was doing the same towards a good man, and be
assured that you are committing the same sin. You will per-
haps say--How is it possible to love a good and a bad man, in
the same degree? Just as it is possible to be as just and faith-
ful to a good man as to an evil man. Now are you in any
difficulty about performing justice and faithfulness to a bad
man? Are you in any doubts whether you need be so just and
faithful to him, as you need be to a good man? Now why is
it that you are in no doubt about it? It is because you know
that justice and faithfulness are founded upon reasons that never
vary or change, that have no dependence upon the merits of
men, but are founded in the Nature of Things, in the Laws of
God, and therefore are to be observed with an equal exactness
towards good and bad men. Now do but think thus justly of
Charity, or love to your Neighbour, that it is founded upon
reasons, that vary not, that have no dependence upon the merits
of men, and then you will find it as possible to perform the
same exact charity, as the same exact justice, to all men, whether
good or bad.’
He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.
And behold, I come quickly, and my reward
is with me.
DEVOTION is neither private nor public Prayer, but
Prayers whether private or public, are particular
parts or instances of Devotion. Devotion signi
fies a life given, or devoted to God.
He therefore is the devout man, who lives no
longer to his own will, or the way and spirit of the world, but to
We readily acknowledge, that God alone is to be the
measure of our Prayers; that in them we are to look wholly
unto him, and act wholly for him; that we are only to pray in
such a manner, for such things, and such ends, as are suitable to
his Glory.
Now let anyone but find out the reason, why he is to be thus
strictly pious in his prayers, and he will find the same as strong
a reason, to be as strictly pious in all the other parts of his life.
For there is not the least shadow of a reason, why we should
make God the rule and measure of our prayers; why we should
then look wholly unto him, and pray according to his will; but
what equally proves it necessary for us to look wholly unto God,
and make him the rule and measure of all the other actions of
our life. For any ways of life, any employment of our talents,
whether of our parts,time, or money, that is not strictly ac
cording to the will of God, that is not for such ends as are suit
able to his absurdities and failings, as prayers
A Serious Call to
that are not according to the will of God. For there is no other
reason, why our prayers should be according to the will of God,
why they should have nothing in them, but what is wise, and
holy, and heavenly, there is no other reason for this, but that our
lives may be of the same nature, full of the same wisdom, holiness, and
As sure, therefore, as there is any wisdom in praying for the
spirit of God, so sure is it, that we are to make that Spirit the
rule of all our actions; as sure as it is our duty to look wholly
unto God in our Prayers, so sure is it, that it is our duty to live
wholly unto God in our lives. But we can no more be said to
live unto God, unless we live unto him in all the ordinary actions
of our life, unless he be the rule and measure of all our ways,
than we can be said to pray unto God, unless our Prayers look
wholly unto him. So that unreasonable and absurd ways of life,
whether in labour or diversion, whether they consume our time,
or our money, are alike unreasonable and absurd Prayers, and
are as truly an offence unto God.
’Tis for want of knowing, or at least considering this, that we
see such a mixture of
You see them strict as to some times and places of Devotion,
but when the service of the Church is over, they are but like
those who seldom or never come there. In their way of life,
their manner of spending their time and money, in their cares
and fears,pleasures and indulgences, in their labour and
diversions, they are like the rest of the world. This makes the
loose part of the world generally make a jest of those who are
devout, because they see their Devotion goes no further than
their Prayers, and that when they are over, they live no more
unto God, till the time of Prayer returns again; but live by the
same humour and fancy, and in as full an enjoyment of all the
follies of life as other People. This is the reason why they are
the jest and scorn of careless and worldly People; not because
they are really devoted to God, but because they appear to have
no other Devotion, but that of occasional Prayers.
Julius is very fearful of missing Prayers; all the Parish sup
poses Julius to be sick, if he is not at Church. But if you were
a Devout and Holy Life.
to ask him why he spends the rest of his time by humour and
chance? why he is a companion of the silliest People in their
most silly pleasures? why he is ready for every impertinent
entertainment and diversion? If you were to ask him why
there is no amusement too trifling to please him? why he is
busy at all balls and assemblies? why he gives himself up to
an idle gossiping conversation? why he lives in foolish
ships
deserve any particular kindness? why he allows himself in foolish
hatreds and resentments against particular persons, without con
sidering that he is to love everybody as himself? If you ask
him why he never puts his conversation, his time, and fortune,
under the Julius has no more to say for him
self, than the most disorderly Person. For the whole tenor of
debauchery
and intemperance: He that lives in such a course of idleness and
folly, lives no more according to the Religion of
he that lives in gluttony and intemperance.
If a man were to tell Julius that there was no occasion for so
much constancy at Prayers, and that he might, without any harm
to himself, neglect the service of the Church, as the generality of
People do, Julius would think such a one to be no
that he ought to avoid his company. But if a person only tells
him, that he may live as the generality of the world does, that
he may enjoy himself as others do, that he may spend his time
and money as People of fashion do, that he may conform to the
follies and frailties of the generality, and gratify his tempers and
Julius never suspects that man to
want a Christian
And if Julius were to read all the New Testament from the
beginning to the end, he would find his course of life condemned
in every page of it.
And indeed there cannot anything be imagined more absurd
in itself, than wise and sublime, and heavenly Prayers, added to
a life of vanity and folly, where neither labour nor diversions,
neither time nor money, are under the direction of the wisdom
and heavenly tempers of our Prayers. If we were to see a man
pretending to act wholly with regard to God in everything that
he did, that would neither spend time or money, or take any
labour or diversion, but so far as he could act according to strict
principles of
neglect all Prayer, whether public or private, should we not be
amazed at such a man, and wonder how he could have so much
folly along with so much religion?
Yet this is as reasonable, as for any person to pretend to strict-
A Serious Call to
ness in Devotion, to be careful of observing times and places of
Prayer, and yet letting the rest of his life, his time, and labour,
his talents and money, be disposed of without any regard to strict
suppose holy Prayers, and divine Petitions without an holiness
of
without Prayers.
Let anyone therefore think, how easily he could confute a
man that pretended to great strictness of Life without Prayer,
and the same Arguments will as plainly confute another, that
pretends to strictness of Prayer, without carrying the same
strictness into every other part of life. For to be weak and
foolish in spending our time and fortune, is no greater a mistake,
than to be weak and foolish in relation to our Prayers. And to
allow ourselves in any ways of life that neither are, nor can be
offered to God, is the same irreligion, as to neglect our Prayers,
or use them in such a manner, as makes them an offering un
worthy of God.
The short of the matter is this, either
prescribe rules and ends to all the ordinary
they do not: If they do, then it is as necessary to govern all our
actions by those rules, as it is necessary to worship God. For
if Religion teaches us anything concerning eating and drinking,
or spending our time and money; if it teaches us how we are to
use and contemn the
have in common life, how we are to be disposed towards all
people, how we are to behave towards the sick, the poor, the
and destitute; if it tells us whom we are to treat with a particular
us how we are to treat our enemies, and how we are to mortify
and deny ourselves, he must be very
parts of Religion are not to be observed with as much exactness,
as any doctrines that relate to Prayers.
It is very observable, that there is not one command in all the
Public Worship; and perhaps it is a duty that is least
insisted upon in
ance at it is never so much as mentioned in all the New Testa
ment. Whereas that Religion or Devotion which is to govern
the ordinary actions of our life, is to be found in almost every
verse of Scripture. Our blessed
wholly taken up in Doctrines that relate to common life. They
call us to renounce the world, and differ in every temper and way
of life, from the
goods, to fear none of its evils, to reject its joys, and have no
value for its born babes, that are born
a Devout and Holy Life.
into a new state of things; to live as Pilgrims in spiritual
watching, in holy
to take up our daily cross, to deny ourselves, to profess the
blessedness of mourning, to seek the blessedness of poverty of
spirit: to forsake the pride and vanity of Riches, to take no
thought for the morrow, to live in the profoundest State of
Humility, to rejoice in worldly sufferings: to reject the lust of
the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life; to bear
injuries, to forgive and bless our enemies, and to love mankind
as God loveth them: to give up our whole hearts and affections
to God, and strive to enter through the strait gate into a life of
eternal Glory.
This is the common Devotion which our
in order to make it the common life of all
therefore exceeding strange, that People should place so much
piety in the attendance upon public worship, concerning which
there is not one precept of our Lord’s to be found, and yet
neglect these common duties of our ordinary life, which are
commanded in every Page of the
the devotion of our common life, because if they are to be
practised, they must be made parts of our common life, they can
have no place anywhere else.
If contempt of the world and heavenly affection, is a necessary
temper of Christians, it is necessary that this temper appear in
the whole course of their lives, in their manner of using the
world, because it can have no place anywhere else.
If self-denial be a condition of salvation, all that would be
saved, must make it a part of their ordinary life. If humility be
a Christian duty, then the common life of a Christian, is to be a
constant course of humility in all its kinds. If poverty of spirit
be necessary, it must be the spirit and temper of every day of our
lives. If we are to relieve the naked, the sick, and the prisoner,
it must be the common charity of our lives, as far as we can
render ourselves able to perform it. If we are to love our enemies,
we must make our common life a visible exercise and demon
stration of that content and thankfulness, if the patient
bearing of evil be duties to God, they are the Duties of every
Day, and in every circumstance of our life. If we are to be
wise be so, but by renouncing everything that is foolish and
vain in every part of our common life. If we are to be in
new creatures, we must show that we are so, by having new ways
of living in the world. If we are to follow
our common way of spending every day.
Thus it is in all the A Serious Call to
they are not ours unless they be the virtues and tempers of our
ordinary life. So that
live in the common ways of life, conforming to the folly of
customs, and gratifying the
any of these things, that all its virtues which it makes necessary
to salvation, are only so many ways of living above, and contrary
to the world in all the common actions of our life. If our
common life is not a common course of humility, self-denial, renunciation of the world,
But yet though it is thus plain, that this, and this alone is
Christianity, an uniform open and visible practice of all these
virtues, yet it is as plain, that there is little or nothing of this to
be found, even amongst the better sort of People. You see them
often at
their lives, and you see them just the same sort of People as
others are, that make no pretences to devotion. The difference
that you find betwixt them, is only the difference of their
natural tempers. They have the same taste
same worldly cares, and fears, and joys; they have the same
turn of mind, equally vain in their
state and equipage, the same pride and vanity of
dress, the same self-love and indulgence, the same foolish friend
ships,
good, and professed rakes, but betwixt People of sober lives.
Let us take an instance in two modest Women: let it be
supposed, that one of them is careful of times of Devotion, and
observes them through a sense of duty, and that the other has
no hearty concern about it, but is at
just as it happens. Now it is a very easy thing to see this
difference betwixt these persons. But when you have seen this,
can you find any further difference betwixt them? Can you
find that their common life is of a different kind? Are not the
tempers, and customs, and manners of the one, of the same kind
as of the other? Do they live as if they belonged to different
worlds, had different views in their heads, and different
measures of all their goods
and evils, are they not pleased and displeased in the same manner, and for the same things? Do they not live in the same
Where must you look, to find one Person of Religion differing
in this manner, from another that has none? And yet if they
do not differ in these things which are here related, can it with
any sense be said, the one is a good
not?
Take another instance amongst the men. Leo has a great
deal of good good
hates everything that is false and base, is very generous and
brave to his
Religion, that he hardly knows the difference betwixt a Jew and
Eusebius on the other hand, has had early impressions of
Here you see, that one person has Religion enough, according
to the way of the world, to be reckoned a pious Christian, and
the other is so far from all appearance of Religion, that he may
fairly be reckoned a Heathen;
common life, if you examine their chief and ruling tempers in
the greatest articles of life, or the greatest doctrines of Chris
tianity, you will find the least difference
Consider them with regard to the use of the world, because
that is what everybody can see.
Now to have right notions and tempers with relation to this
God. And it is as possible for a man to worship a Crocodile,
A Serious Call to
and yet be a pious man, as to have his affections set upon this
world, and yet be a good Christian.
But now if you consider Leo and Eusebius in this respect, you
will find them exactly alike, seeking, using, and enjoying all that
can be got in this world in the same manner, and for the same
ends. You will find that riches, prosperity, pleasures, indulgences, state, equipage, and
For if the doctrines of Christianity were practised, they would
make a man as different from other people as to all worldly
tempers, sensual pleasures, and the pride of life, as a wise man
is different from a natural; it would be as easy a thing to
know a Christian by his outward course of life, as it is now diffi
cult to find anybody that lives it. For it is notorious, that
Christians are now not only like other men in their frailties and
infirmities, this might be in some degree excusable, but the
complaint is, they are like Heathens in all the
IT may now be reasonably inquired, how it comes to pass,
that the lives even of the better sort of people, are thus
strangely contrary to the principles of
But before
may also be inquired, how it comes to pass that swearing
is so common a yet
so common amongst women, as it is amongst men. But amongst
men this sin is so common, that perhaps there are more than
two in three that are guilty of it through the whole course of
their lives, swearing more or less, just as it happens, some con
stantly, others only now and then as it were by chance. Now,
I ask how comes it, that two in three of the men are guilty of
so gross and profane a
nor human infirmity to plead for it: It is against an express
commandment, and the most plain Doctrine of our
Saviour
Do but now find the reason why the generality of men live in
this notorious vice, and then you will have found the reason why
the generality even of the better sort of people, live so contrary
to Christianity.
Now the reason of common swearing is this, it is because men
have not so much as the intention to please God in all their actions. For let a man but have so much piety as to
It seems but a small and necessary part of piety to have such
a sincere intention as this; and that he has no reason to look
upon himself as a Disciple of
vanced in piety. And yet it is purely for want of this degree of
piety, that you see such a mixture of sin and folly in the lives
even of the better sort of People. It is for want of this intention,
that you see men who profess religion, yet live in swearing and
sensuality; that you see Clergymen given to pride and covetous-
A Serious Call to
ness, and worldly enjoyments. It is for want of this intention,
that you see women
folly and vanity of dress, wasting their time in idleness and
pleasures, and in all such instances of state and equipage as their
estates will reach. For let but a woman feel her heart full of
this intention, and she will find it as impossible to patch or paint,
as to curse or swear; she will no more desire to shine at Balls
and Assemblies,
finely dressed, than she will desire to dance upon a Rope to
please
wisdomexcellency of the Christian Spirit, as the other.
It was this general intention, that made the primitive Christians
such eminent instances of piety, that made the goodly fellow
ship of the saints, and all the glorious army of martyrs and confessors. And if you will here stop, and ask yourself, why you
Now, who that wants this general sincere intention, can be
reckoned a Christian? And yet if it was amongst Christians,
it would change the whole face of the
exemplary holiness, would be as common and visible, as buying
and selling, or any trade in life.
Let a Clergyman but be thus pious, and he will converse as if
he had been brought up by an Apostle; he will no more think
Again, let a Tradesman but have this intention, and it will
make him a saint in his shop; his every-day business will be a
course of
being done in obedience to his will and pleasure. He will buy
and sell, and labour and travel, because by so doing he can do
some good to himself and others. But then, as nothing can
please God but what is wise, and reasonable, and holy, so he
will neither buy nor sell, nor labour in any other manner, nor to
any other end, but such as may be shown to be wise, and reasonable, and
And on the other hand, whoever is not of this
in his trade and profession, and does not carry it on only so far
as is best subservient to a wise, and holy, and heavenly life; it
is certain that he has not this intention; and yet without it, who
can be shown to be a follower of
Again, let the Gentleman of birth and fortune but have this
intention, and you will see how it will carry him from every
appearance of evil, to every instance of piety and goodness.
He cannot live by chance, or as humour and fancy carry him,
because he knows that nothing can please God but a wise and
regular course of life. He cannot live in idleness and indulgence,
in sports and gaming, in pleasures and intemperance, in vain ex
penses and high living, because these things cannot be turned
into means of piety and holiness, or made so many parts of a
wise and religious life.
As he thus removes from all appearance of evil, so he hastens
and aspires after every instance of goodness. He does not ask
what is allowable and pardonable, but what is commendable and
praiseworthy. He does not ask, whether God will forgive the
folly of our lives, the madness of our pleasures, the vanity of our
expenses, the richness of our equipage, and the careless consump
tion of our time; but he asks, whether God is pleased with
these things, or whether these are the appointed ways of gain
ing his A Serious Call to
to hoard up money, to adorn ourselves with diamonds, and gild
our chariots, whilst the widow and the orphan, the sick and the
prisoner, want to be relieved; but he asks, whether God has
required these things at our hands, whether we shall be called to
account at the last day for the neglect of them; because it is
not his intent to live in such ways as, for aught we know, God
may perhaps pardon; but to be diligent in such ways, as we
know, that God will infallibly reward.
He will not therefore look at the lives of
how he ought to spend his estate, but he will look into the
doctrine, parable, precept, or instruction, that relates to rich men, a
He will have nothing to do with costly apparel, because the
rich man in the
He denies himself the pleasures and indulgences which his estate
could procure, because our
that are rich, for ye have received your consolation.’ He will
have but one rule for charity, and that will be, to spend
He will have no hospitable table for the rich and wealthy to
come and feast with him, in good eating and drinking; because
our
thy
rich neighbours, lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense
be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor,
the maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou shalt be blessed.
for they cannot recompense thee; for thou shalt be recom
pensed at the resurrection of the just.’*
He will waste no money in gilded roofs, or costly furniture:
He will not be carried from pleasure to pleasure, in expensive
state and equipage, because an inspired
‘all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the
eyes, and the
world.’
Let not anyone look upon this as an imaginary description of
charity, that looks fine in the notion, but cannot be put in
practice. For it is so far from being an
form of life, that it has been practised by great numbers of
Christians in former ages, who were glad to turn their whole
estates into a constant course of charity. And it is so far from
being impossible now, that if we can find any Christians, that
* a Devout and Holy Life.
sincerely intend to please God in all their actions, as the best and happiest thing in the world, whether they be young or old, single
For how is it possible for a man that intends to please God in
the use of his money, and intends it because he judges it to be
his greatest happiness, how is it possible for such a one, in such a
This is as strictly impossible, as for a man who intends to
please God in his words, to go into
swear and lie. For as all waste and unreasonable expense is
done designedly, and with deliberation, so no one can be guilty
of it, whose constant intention is to please God in the use of his
money.
intention, because it makes the case so plain, and because everyone
You see two persons, one is regular in public and private
Prayer, the other is not. Now the reason of this difference is
not this, that one has strength and power to observe Prayer, and
the other has not; but the reason is this, that one intends to please God in the
Here therefore let us judge ourselves sincerely, let us not
vainly content ourselves with the common disorders of our lives,
the vanity of our expenses, the folly of our diversions, the pride
of our habits, the idleness of our lives, and the wasting of our
time, fancying that these are such imperfections as we fall into
through the unavoidable weakness and frailty of our
but let us be assured, that these disorders of our common life are
owing to this, that we have not so much to intend
to please God in all the actions of our life, as the best and happiest thing in the world. So that we must not look upon ourselves in
And if anyone were to ask himself, how it comes to pass, that
there are any degrees of sobriety which he neglects, any practices
of humility which he wants, any method of charity which he does
not follow, any rules of redeeming time which he does not
observe, his own heart will tell him, that it is because he never
intended to be so exact in those duties. For whenever we fully
intend it, it is as possible to conform to all this regularity of
life, as it is possible for a man to observe times of Prayer.
So that the fault does not lie here, that we desire to be good
and
of it; but it is, because we have not piety enough to intend to
be as good as we can, or to please God in all the actions of our
life. This we see is plainly the case of him who spends his
time in sports, when he should be at Church; it is not his want
And the case is plainly the same in every other folly of
human life. She that spends her time and money in the un
reasonable ways and fashions of the world, does not do so,
because she wants power to be wise and religious in the manage
ment of her time and money, but because she has no intention
or desire of being so. When she feels this intention, she will
find it as possible to act up to it, as to be strictly sober and
chaste, because it is her care and desire to be so.
This doctrine does not suppose, that we have no need of
divine
perfect. It only supposes, that through the want of a sincere
intention of pleasing God in all our actions, we fall into such
And that we have not that perfection, which our present state
of grace makes us capable of, because we do not so much as
intend to have it.
It only teaches us, that the reason why you see no real morti
fication, or self-denial, no eminent charity, no profound humility,
no heavenly affection, no true contempt of the world, no Christian
meekness, no sincere zeal, no eminent piety in the common lives
of intend to
be exact and exemplary in these
ALTHOUGH the goodness of God, and his rich
in
he will be merciful to our unavoidable weaknesses and
infirmities, that is, to such failings as are the effects of
ignorance or surprise; yet we have no reason to
expect the same mercy towards those sins which we have lived
in, through a want of intention to avoid them.
For instance, the case of a common swearer, who dies in that
because he can no more plead any weakness, or infirmity in his
excuse, than the man that hid his talent in the earth, could plead
his want of strength to keep it out of the earth.
But now, if this be right reasoning in the case of a common swearer, that his sin is not to be reckoned a
For if this be so bad a thing, because it might be avoided, if
we did but sincerely intend it, must not then all other erroneous
ways of life be very guilty, if we live in them, not through
weakness and inability, but because we never sincerely intended
to avoid them?
For instance, you perhaps have made no progress in the most
A Serious Call to
important Christian
humility and charity; now if your failure in these duties is
purely owing to your want of intention of performing them in
any
and are you not as much without all excuse, as the common swearer?
Why, therefore, do you not press these things home upon your
conscience? Why do you not think it as dangerous for you to
live in such defects, as are in your power to amend, as it is dan
gerous for a common swearer to live in the breach of that duty,
which it is in his power to observe? Is not negligence, and a
want of a sincere intention, as blamable in one case, as in
another?
You, it may be, are as far from Christian Perfection, as the
common swearer is from keeping the third Commandment; are
you not therefore as much condemned by the doctrines of the
You perhaps will say, that all People fall short of the Per
fection of the
failings. But this is saying nothing to the purpose. For the
question is not whether
but whether you come as near it, as a sincere intention, and
careful intelligence can carry you. Whether you are not in a
much lower state than you might be, if you sincerely intended,
and carefully laboured to advance yourself in all Christian
If you are as forward in the Christian Life, as your best
endeavours can make you, then you may justly hope, that your
imperfections will not be laid to your charge; but if your defects
in piety, humility, and charity, are owing to your negligence, and
want of sincere intention, to be as eminent as you can in these
virtues, then you leave yourself as much without excuse, as he
that lives in the
intention to depart from it.
The salvation of our souls is set forth in
of difficulty, that requires all our diligence, that is to be worked out with fear and trembling.
We are told, that ‘strait is the gate, and narrow is the way
that leadeth unto Life, and few there be that find it. That
many are called, but few are chosen.’ And that many will miss
of their salvation, who seem to have taken some pains to obtain
it: As in these words, ‘Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for
many I say unto you will seek to enter in, and shall not be
able.’
Here our strive to enter in,
a Devout and Holy Life.
because many will fail, who only seek to enter. By which we
are plainly taught, that Religion is a state of labour and striving,
and that many will fail of their salvation; not because they took
no pains or care about it, but because they did not take pains
and care enough; they only sought, but did not strive to
enter in.
Every
these Doctrines, as by the Commandments. For these Doctrines
are as plain marks of our condition, as the Commandments are
plain marks of our duty.
For if salvation is only given to those who strive for it, then
it is as reasonable for
be a course of striving to obtain it, as to consider whether I am
keeping any of the Commandments.
If my Religion is only a formal compliance with those modes
of worship, that are in fashion where I live; if it costs me no
pains or trouble; if it lays me under no
I have no careful thoughts and sober reflections about it, is it
not great weakness to think that I am striving to enter in at the strait gate?
If I am seeking everything that can delight my senses, and
regale my appetites; spending my time and fortune in pleasures,
in diversions, and worldly enjoyments, a stranger to watchings,
fastings, prayers, and mortifications, how can it be said that I
am working out my salvation with fear and trembling?
If there is nothing in my life and conversation, that shows me
to be different from Jews and
And yet if the way is narrow, if none can walk in it but those
that strive, is it not as necessary for me to consider, whether the
way I am in be narrow enough, or the labour I take be a sufficient
striving, as to consider whether I sufficiently observe the second
or third Commandment.
The sum of this matter is this: From the above-mentioned,
and many other passages of
salvation depends upon the sincerity and perfection of our
Weak and imperfect men shall, notwithstanding their frailties
and defects, be received, as having pleased God, if they have
done their utmost to please him.
The rewards of
those, whose lives have been a careful labour to exercise these
high a degree as they could.
We cannot offer to God the service of Angels; we cannot
But if we stop short of this, for aught we know, we stop short
of the mercy of God, and leave ourselves nothing to plead from
the terms of the Gospel. For God has there made no promises
of mercy to the slothful and negligent. His mercy is only
offered to our frail and imperfect, but best endeavours to practise
all manner of righteousness.
As the law to
perfect beings is strict perfection, so the law to our imperfect
best obedience that our frail nature is able to
perform.
The measure of our
measure of our love of every
it ‘with all our heart, with all our
with all our strength.’ And when we cease to live with this
regard to virtue, we live below our nature, and instead of being
able to plead our infirmities, we stand chargeable with negligence.
It is for this reason that we are exhorted, to work out our
salvation with fear and
And he that considers, that a just God can only make such
allowances as are suitable to his justice, that our works are all
to be examined by fire, will find, that fear and trembling are
proper tempers for those, that are drawing near so great a trial.
And indeed there is no probability, that anyone should do all
the duty that is expected from him, or make that progress in
piety, which the holiness and justice of God requires of him, but
he that is constantly afraid of falling short of it.
Now this is not intended, to possess people’s minds with a
scrupulous anxiety, and discontent in the service of God, but to
fill them with a just
the neglect of such
Judgment.
It is to excite them to an earnest examination of their lives,
to such zeal, and care, and concern after Christian
they use in any matter that has gained their heart and affections.
It is only desiring them to be so apprehensive of their state,
so humble in the opinion of themselves, so earnest after higher
degrees of piety, and so fearful of falling short of happiness, as
the great Paul was, when he thus wrote to the
‘Not as though I had already attained, either were already
perfect;--but this one thing I do, forgetting those things
which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which
are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high
calling of God in
therefore, as many as are perfect, be thus minded.’
But now, if the
were in his state of perfection, to be thus minded, that is, thus
labouring, pressing and aspiring after some degrees of holiness,
to which they were not then arrived, surely it is much more
necessary for us, who are born in the dregs of time, and labouring
under great imperfections, to be thus minded, that is, thus earnest
and striving after such degrees of a holy and divine life, as we
have not yet attained.
The best way for anyone to know, how much he ought to
aspire after holiness, is to consider, not how much will make his
present life easy, but to ask himself, how much he thinks will
make him easy, at the hour of death.
Now any man that dares be so serious, as to put this question
to himself, will be forced to answer, that at death, everyone will
wish that he had been as perfect as human
Is not this therefore sufficient, to put us not only upon wishing,
but labouring after all that perfection, which we shall then lament
the want of? Is it not excessive folly, to be content with such
a course of piety, as we already know cannot content us, at a
time when we shall so want it, as to have nothing else to
comfort us? How can we carry a severer condemnation against
ourselves, than to believe, that at the hour of death, we shall
want the Saints, and wish that we had been
amongst the first servants of God, and yet take no methods of
arriving at their height of piety, whilst we are alive?
Though this is an absurdity that we can easily pass over at
present, whilst the health of our
world, lead us on with eyes that see not, and ears that hear not,
yet at
it will haunt us like a dismal Ghost, and our conscience will
never let us take our eyes from it.
We see in worldly matters, what a torment self-condemnation
is, and how hardly a man is able to forgive himself, when he has
A Serious Call to
brought himself into any calamity, or disgrace, purely by his
own folly. The affliction is made doubly tormenting, because
he is forced to charge it all upon himself, as his own act and
deed, against the nature and
the advice of all his friends.
Now by this we may in some degree guess, how terrible the
pain of that self-condemnation will be, when a man shall find
himself in the miseries of death, under the severity of a self
condemning conscience, charging all his distress upon his own
folly, and madness, against the sense and reason of his own
against all the doctrines and precepts of religion, and contrary
to all the instructions, calls, and warnings, both of God, and man.
Penitens was a busy, notable tradesman, and very prosperous
in his dealings, but died in the thirty-fifth year of his age.
A little before his death, when the doctors had given him
over, some of his neighbours came one evening to see him, at
which time, he spake thus to them.
I see, says he, my friends, the
me, by the grief that appears in your countenances, and I know
the thoughts that you now have about me. You think how
melancholy a case it is, to see so young a man, and in such
flourishing business, delivered up to death. And perhaps, had I
visited any of you in my condition, I should have had the same
thoughts of you.
But now, my friends, my thoughts are no more like your
thoughts, than my condition is like yours.
It is no trouble to me now to think, that I am to die young,
or before I have raised an estate.
These things are now sunk into such mere nothings, that I
have no name little enough to call them by. For if in a few
days, or hours, I am to leave this carcase to be buried in the
earth, and to find myself either for ever happy in the favour of
God, or eternally separated from all light and peace, can any
words sufficiently express the littleness of everything else?
Is there any dream like the dream of life, which amuses us
with the neglect and
folly like the folly of our manly state, which is too wise and busy,
to be at leisure for these reflections?
When we consider
miserable separation from the enjoyments of this life. We
seldom mourn over an old man that dies rich, but we lament
the young, that are taken away in the progress of their fortune.
You yourselves look upon me with pity, not that I am going
unprepared to meet the Judge of quick and dead, but that I am
to leave a prosperous trade in the flower of my life.
This is the
folly of the silliest children is so great as this?
For what is there miserable, or
sequences of it? When a man is dead, what does anything
signify to him, but the state he is then in?
Our poor friend Lepidus died, you know, as he was dressing
himself for a feast; do you think it is now part of his trouble,
that he did not live till that entertainment was over? Feast,
and business, and pleasures, and enjoyments, seem great things to
us, whilst we think of nothing else, but as soon as we add death
to them, they all sink into an equal littleness; and the
is separated from the business,
than the losing of a feast.
If I am now going into the joys of God, could there be any
reason to grieve, that this happened to me before I was forty
years of age? Could it be a sad thing to go to heaven, before
I had made a few more bargains, or stood a little longer behind
a counter?
And if I am to go amongst lost
reason to be content, that this did not happen to me till I was
old, and full of riches?
If good
grief to me, that I was dying upon a poor bed in a garret?
And if God has delivered me up to
by them to places of torments, could it be any comfort to me,
that they found me upon a bed of state?
When you are as near death as I am, you will know, that all
the different states of life, whether of youth or
poverty, greatness or meanness, signify no more to you, than
whether you die in a poor, or stately apartment.
The greatness of those things which follow
that goes before it sink into nothing.
Now that judgment is the next thing that I look for, and ever
lasting
ments and prosperities of life seem as vain and insignificant,
and to have no more to do with my happiness, than the clothes
that I wore before I could speak.
But, my friends, how am I surprised, that I have not always
had these thoughts? for what is there in the terrors of death, in
the vanities of life, or the necessities of piety, but what I might
have as easily and fully seen in any part of my life?
What a strange thing is it, that a little health, or the poor
business of a shop, should keep us so senseless of these great
things, that are coming so fast upon us!
Just as you came into my chamber, I was thinking with my-
A Serious Call to
self, what numbers of
condition at this very time, surprised with a summons to the
other world; some taken from their shops and farms, others
from their sports and pleasures, these at suits of Law, those at
Gaming-tables, some on the road, others at their own fire-sides,
and all seized at an hour when they thought nothing of it;
frighted at the approach of death, confounded at the vanity of
all their labours, designs, and projects, astonished at the folly of
their past lives, and not knowing which way to turn their
thoughts, to find any comfort. Their consciences flying in their
faces, bringing all their
them with deepest convictions of their own folly, presenting
them with the sight of the angry Judge, the worm that never
dies, the fire that is never quenched, the gates of
of darkness, and the bitter pains of eternal death.
O my friends! bless God that you are not of this number,
that you have time and strength to employ yourselves in such
works of piety, as may bring you peace at the last.
And take this along with you, that there is nothing but a life
of great piety, or a death of great stupidity, that can keep off
these Apprehensions.
Had I now a thousand worlds, I would give them all for one
year more, that I might present unto God, one year of such de
votion and good works, as I never before so much as intended.
You perhaps, when you consider that I have lived free from
scandal and debauchery, and in the communion of the
wonder to see me so full of remorse and self-condemnation at
the approach of death.
But, alas! what a poor thing is it, to have lived only free from
murder, theft, and adultery, which is all that I can say of myself.
You know indeed, that I have never been reckoned a sot, but
you are at the same time witnesses, and have been frequent
companions of my intemperance, sensuality, and great indulgence.
And if I am now going to a Judgment, where nothing will be
rewarded but good works, I may well be concerned, that though
I am no sot, yet I have no Christian sobriety to plead for me.
It is true, I have lived in the communion of the
generally frequented its worship and service on Sundays, when
I were neither too idle, or not otherwise disposed of by my business and
But the thing that now surprises me above all wonders, is
a Devout and Holy Life.
this, that I never had so much as a general intention of living
up to the piety of the
into my head, or my heart. I never once in my life considered,
whether I were living as the laws of Religion direct, or whether
my way of life was such, as would procure me the
at this hour.
And can it be thought, that I have kept the
salvation, without ever so much as intending in any serious and
deliberate manner, either to know them, or keep them? Can it
be thought, that I have pleased God with such a life as he
requires, though I have lived without ever considering, what he
requires, or how much I have performed? How easy a thing
would salvation be, if it could fall into my careless hands, who
have never had so much serious thought about it, as about any
one common bargain that I have made?
In the business of
I have done everything by
glad to converse with men of
out the reasons why some fail, and others succeed in any busi
ness. I have taken no step in trade but with great care and
caution, considering every advantage, or danger that attended it.
I have always had my eye upon the main end of business, and
have studied all the ways and means of being a gainer by all
that I undertook.
But what is the reason that I have brought none of these
tempers to Religion? What is the reason that I, who have so
often talked of the necessity of rules and methods, and diligence
in worldly business, have all this while never once thought of
any rules, or methods, or managements, to carry me on in a life
of Piety?
Do you think anything can astonish, and confound a dying
man like this? What pain do you think a man must feel, when
his conscience lays all this folly to his charge, when it shall show
him how regular, exact, and wise he has been in small matters,
which are passed away like a dream, and how stupid and sense
less he has lived, without any reflection, without any rules, in
things of such eternal moment, as no heart can sufficiently con
ceive them?
Had I only my frailties and imperfections to lament, at this
time, I should lie here humbly trusting in the
But, alas! how can I call a general disregard, and a thorough
neglect of all religious improvement, a frailty or imperfection;
when it was as much in my power to have been exact, and care
ful, and diligent in a course of piety, as in the business of my
trade.
I could have called in as many helps, have practised as many
rules, and been taught as many certain methods of holy living,
as of thriving in my shop, had I but so intended and desired it.
Oh my friends! a careless life, unconcerned and unattentive
to the duties of Religion, is so without all excuse, so unworthy
of the mercy of God, such a shame to the sense and reason of
our
than for a man to be thrown into the state that I am in, to reflect
upon it.
Penitens was here going on, but had his mouth stopped by a
convulsion, which never suffered him to speak any more. He
lay convulsed about twelve hours, and then gave up the ghost.
Now if every reader, would imagine this Penitens to have been
some particular acquaintance or relation of his, and fancy that he
saw and heard all that is here described, that he stood by his
bedside when his poor friend lay in such distress and agony,
lamenting the folly of his past life, it would, in all probability,
teach him such
If to this, he should consider how often he himself might have
been surprised in the same state of negligence, and made an
example to the rest of the world, this double reflection, both
upon the distress of his friend, and the goodness of that God,
who had preserved him from it, would in all likelihood soften
his heart into holy tempers, and make him turn the remainder
of his life into a regular course of piety.
This therefore being so useful a meditation,
the reader, as I hope, seriously engaged in it.
HAVING in the first Chapter stated the general nature
of Devotion, and shown, that it implies not any form of Prayer, but a certain form of life, that is offered to
As a good a Devout and Holy Life.
because God is there, so he should look upon every part of his
life as a matter of holiness, because it is to be offered unto God.
The profession of a Clergyman, is a holy profession, because
it is a ministration in holy things, an attendance at the Altar.
But worldly business is to be made holy unto the Lord, by being
done as a service to him, and in conformity to his divine will.
For as all men, and all things in the World, as truly belong
unto God, as any places, things, or persons that are devoted to
divine service, so all things are to be used, and all persons are
to act in their several states and employments for the Glory of
God.
Men of worldly business therefore, must not look upon them
selves as at liberty to live to themselves, to sacrifice to their
own humours and tempers, because their employment is of a
worldly nature. But they must consider, that as the world and
all worldly professions, as truly belong to God, as persons and
things that are devoted to the Altar, so it is as much the duty
of men in worldly business to live wholly unto God, as it is the
duty of those, who are devoted to divine service.
As the whole world is God’s, so the whole world is to act for
God. As all men have the same relation to God, as all men
have all their powers and faculties from God, so all men are
obliged to act for God, with all their powers and faculties.
As all things are God’s, so all things are to be used and
regarded as the things of God. For men to abuse things on
earth, and live to themselves, is the same rebellion against God,
as for Angels to abuse things in Heaven; because God is just
the same Lord of all on earth, as he is the Lord of all in
Heaven.
Things may, and must differ in their use, but yet they are all
to be used according to the will of God.
Men may, and must differ in their employments, but yet they
must all act for the same ends, as dutiful servants of God, in the
right and pious performance of their several callings.
Clergymen must live wholly unto God in one particular way,
that is, in the exercise of Holy offices, in the ministration of
Prayers and Sacraments, and a zealous distribution of spiritual
goods.
But men of other employments, are in their particular ways
as much obliged to act as the servants of God, and live wholly
unto him in their several callings.
This is the only difference between Clergymen, and People of
other callings.
When it can be shown, that men might be vain, covetous,
sensual, worldly minded, or proud in the exercise of their
A Serious Call to
worldly business, then it will be allowable for Clergymen to
indulge the same tempers in their sacred profession. For
though these tempers are most odious and most criminal in
Clergymen, who besides their baptismal vow, have a second time
devoted themselves to God, to be his servants, not in the
common offices of human life, but in the spiritual service of the
most holy, sacred things, and who are therefore to keep them
selves as separate and different from the common life of other
men, as a Church or an
As there is but one God and Father of us all, whose Glory
gives light and life to everything that lives; whose presence
fills all places, whose power supports all beings, whose
vidence
heaven or earth, whether they be thrones or principalities, men or
angels, they must all with one wholly to the praise and
glory of this one God and Father of them all. Angels as angels,
in their heavenly ministrations, but men as men, women as
This is the common business of all persons in this world. It is
not left to any women in the world to trifle away their time in
Now to make our labour, or employment an acceptable service
unto God, we must carry it on with the same spirit and temper,
that is required in giving of alms, or any work of * For,
if ‘whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, we must do all
to the glory of God’; if ‘we are to use this world as if we used
it not’; if we are to ‘present our
acceptable to God’;† if ‘we are to live by faith, and not by
sight,’ and to ‘have our conversation in heaven’; then it is neces
sary, that the common way of our life in every state, be made to
glorify God by such tempers, as make our prayers and adorations
acceptable to him. For if we are worldly, or earthly-minded in
our employments, if they are carried on with vain
covetous tempers, only to satisfy ourselves, we can no more be
said to live to the gluttons and drunkards
can be said, to eat and drink to the glory of God.
As the glory of God is one and the same thing, so whatever
we do suitably to it, must be done with one and the same
That same state and temper of mind, which makes our alms and
devotions acceptable, must also make our labour, or employment,
a proper offering unto God. If a man labours to be rich, and pur
sues his business, that he may raise himself to a state of figure
and glory in the world, he is no longer serving God in his
Most of the employments of life are in their own
lawful; and all those that are so, may be made a substantial
part of our duty to God, if we engage in them only so far, and
for such ends, as are suitable to beings that are to live above the
* [† [ Rom. xii. 1.
Now he that does not look at the things of this life in this
degree of littleness, cannot be said, either to feel or believe the
greatest truths of Christianity. For if he thinks anything great
or important in human business, can he be said, to feel or
believe those Scriptures which represent this life, and the
greatest things of life, as bubbles, vapours, dreams, and shadows?
If he thinks figure and show, and worldly glory, to be any
The husbandman that tilleth the ground, is employed in an
honest business, that is necessary in life, and very capable of
being made an acceptable service unto God. But if he labours
and toils, not to serve any reasonable ends of life, but in order
to have his plough made of silver, and to have his horses
harnessed in gold, the honesty of his employment is lost as to
him, and his labour becomes his folly.
A tradesman may justly think, that it is agreeable to the will
of God, for him to sell such things as are innocent and useful in
life, such as help both himself, and others, to a reasonable sup-
a Devout and Holy Life.
port, and enable them to assist those that want to be assisted.
But if instead of this, he trades only with regard to himself,
without any other rule than that of his own temper, if it be his
chief end in it to grow rich, that he may live in figure and indulgence, and be able to retire from business to
Calidus has traded above thirty years in the greatest city of
the kingdom; he has been so many years constantly increasing
his trade, and his fortune. Every hour of the day is with him
an hour of business; and though he eats and drinks very
heartily, yet every meal seems to be in a hurry, and he would
say grace if he had time. Calidus ends every day at the tavern,
but has not leisure to be there till near nine o’clock. He is
always forced to drink a good hearty glass, to drive thoughts of
business out of his head, and make his spirits drowsy enough for
sleep. He does business all the time that he is rising, and has
settled several matters, before he can get to his counting-room.
His prayers are a short ejaculation or two, which he never
misses in stormy, tempestuous weather, because he has always
something or other at Sea. Calidus will tell you with great
pleasure, that he has been in this hurry for so many years, and
that it must have killed him long ago, but that it has been a rule
with him, to get out of the town every Saturday, and make the
Sunday a day of quiet, and good refreshment in the country.
He is now so rich, that he would leave off his business, and
amuse his old age with building, and furnishing a fine house in
the country, but that he is afraid he should grow melancholy, if
Now this way of life is at such a distance from all the doctrines
and discipline of
ignorance or frailty. Calidus can no more imagine that ‘he is
born again of the * that he is ‘in
creature’;† that he lives ‘here as a stranger and pilgrim,
setting his affections upon things above, and laying up treasures
in heaven.’‡ He can no more imagine this, than he can think
that he has been all his life an Apostle, working
It must also be owned, that the generality of trading people,
especially in great towns, are too much like Calidus. You see
them all the week buried in business, unable to think of anything
else; and then spending the Sunday in idleness and refresh
ment, in wandering into the country, in such visits and jovial
meetings, as make it often the worst day of the week.
Now they do not live thus, because they cannot support
themselves with less care and application to business; but they
live thus because they want to grow rich in their trades, and to
maintain their families in some such figure and degree of finery,
as a reasonable Christian life has no occasion for. Take away
Now the only way to do this, is for people to consider their
trade as something, that they are obliged to devote to the glory
of God, something that they are to do only in such a manner, as
that they may make it a duty to him. Nothing can be right in
business, that is not under these
servants, ‘to be obedient to their masters, in singleness of heart,
as unto Christ. Not with eye-service as men-pleasers, but as
the servants of
With good will doing service as unto the Lord, and not to
men.’§
*John iii. 5.
† 2 Cor. v. 17.
‡ [ Col. iii. 1.
§ Eph. vi. 5; Col. iii. 22. 23.
This passage sufficiently shows, that all Christians are to live
wholly unto God in every state and condition, doing the work of
their common calling, in such a manner, and for such ends, as to
make it a part of their devotion or service to God. For certainly
if poor slaves are not to comply with their business as menpleasers, if they are to look wholly unto God in all their
It is therefore absolutely certain, that no Christian is to enter
any further into business, nor for any other ends, than such as he
can in singleness of heart offer unto God, as a reasonable service.
For the only end, that we
should, by a life of reason and piety, live to the glory of God;
this is the only rule and measure, for every order and state of
life. Without this rule, the most
Take away this from the life of a Clergyman, and his holy
profession serves only to expose him to a greater damnation.
Take away this from tradesmen, and shops are but so many
houses of greediness and filthy lucre. Take away this from
gentlemen, and the course of their life becomes a course of
sensuality, pride, and wantonness. Take away this rule from
our tables, and all falls into gluttony and drunkenness. Take
away this measure from our dress and habits, and all is turned
into such paint, and glitter, and ridiculous ornaments, as are a
real shame to the wearer. Take away this from the use of our
fortunes, and you will find people sparing in nothing but charity.
Take away this from our diversions, and you will find no sports
too silly, nor any entertainments too vain and corrupt to be the
pleasure of Christians.
If therefore we desire to live unto God, it is necessary to
bring our whole life under this law, to make his
rule and measure of our acting in every employment of life. For
there is no other true devotion, but this of living devoted to God
in the common business of our lives.
So that men must not content themselves with the lawfulness
A Serious Call to
of their employments, but must consider whether they use them,
as they are to use everything, as strangers and pilgrims, that are
baptized into the resurrection of
him in a wise and heavenly course of life, in the mortification of
all worldly desires, and in purifying and preparing their
the blessed enjoyment of God.*
For to be vain, or proud, or covetous, or ambitious in the
common course of our business, is as contrary to these holy
tempers of
If a glutton were to say in excuse of his gluttony, that he only
eats such things as it is lawful to eat, he would make as good an
excuse for himself, as the greedy, covetous, ambitious trades
man, that should say, he only deals in lawful business. For as a
Christian is not only required to be honest, but to be of a
Christian spirit, and make his life an exercise of humility, repentance, and
So that the matter plainly comes to this, all irregular tempers
in trade and business, are but like irregular tempers in eating and
drinking.
Proud views, and vain desires, in our worldly employments,
So that if we could so divide ourselves, as to be humble in
some respects, and proud in others, such humility would be of
no service to us, because God requires us as truly to be humble
in all our actions and designs, as to be true and honest in all our
actions and designs.
And as a man is not honest and true, because he is so to a
* Col. iii. 1; 1 Pet. i. 15, 16; Eph. v. 26, 27.a Devout and Holy Life.
great many People, or upon several occasions, but because truth
and honesty is the measure of all his dealings with everybody;
so the case is the same in humility, or any other temper, it must
be the general ruling habit of our
our actions and designs, before it can be imputed to us.
We indeed sometimes talk, as if a man might be humble in
some things, and proud in others; humble in his dress, but proud
of his learning; humble in his person, but proud in his views
and designs. But though this may pass in common discourse,
where few things are said according to strict
allowed, when we examine into the nature of our actions.
It is very possible for a man that lives by cheating, to be very
punctual in paying for what he buys; but then everyone is
assured, that he does not do so out of any principle of true honesty.
In like manner, it is very possible for a man, that is proud of
his estate, ambitious in his views, or vain of his learning, to dis
As therefore all kinds of dishonesty destroy our pretences to
an honest principle of
tences to an humble spirit.
No one wonders that those prayers, and alms, which proceed
from pride and
easy to show, that pride is as pardonable there as anywhere else.
If we could suppose, that God rejects pride in our prayers
and alms, but bears with pride in our dress, our persons, or
estates, it would be the same thing as to suppose, that God con
demns falsehood in some actions, but allows it in others. For
pride in one thing, differs from pride in another thing, as the
robbing of one man differs from the robbing of another.
Again, if pride and ostentation is so
the merit and worth of the most
must be equally odious in those actions, which are only founded
in the weakness and infirmity of our alms are
commanded by God, as excellent in themselves, as true instances
of a divine temper, but clothes are only allowed to cover our
shame; surely therefore it must at least be as odious a degree
of pride, to be vain in our clothes, as to be vain in our alms.
Again, we are commanded to pray without ceasing, as a means
of rendering our souls more
bidden to lay up treasures upon earth; and can we think that it
is not as bad, to be vain of those treasures, which we are for-
A Serious Call to
bidden to lay up, as to be vain of those prayers, which we are
commanded to make.
Women are required to have their
All these instances are only to show us the great necessity of
such a regular and uniform piety, as extends itself to all the
actions of our common life.
That we must eat and drink, and dress and discourse, accord
ing to the Christian spirit, engage in no employ
ments but such as we can truly devote unto God, nor pursue
them any further, than so far as conduces to the reasonable ends
of a holy devout life.
That we must be honest, not only on particular occasions, and
in such instances, as are applauded in the world, easy to be per
formed, and free from danger, or loss, but from such a living principle of justice, as makes us love
That we must be humble, not only in such instances as are
expected in the world, or suitable to our tempers, or confined to
particular occasions, but in such an humility of spirit, as renders
us meek and lowly in the whole course of our lives, as shows
itself in our dress, our person, our conversation, our enjoyment of
the world, the tranquillity of our patience under injuries,
submission to superiors, and condescensions to those that are
below us, and in all the outward actions of our lives.
That we must devote, not only times and places to prayer, but
be everywhere in the spirit of devotion, with hearts always set
towards heaven, looking up to God in all our
everything as his servants, living in the world as in a holy temple
of God, and always worshipping him, though not with our lips,
yet with the thankfulness of our hearts, the holiness of our actions,
and the pious and charitable use of all his gifts. That we must
not only send up petitions and thoughts, now and then to
heaven, but must go through all our worldly business with an
* a Devout and Holy Life.
heavenly
new hearts, and new minds, are to turn an earthly life, into a
preparation for a life of greatness and glory in the kingdom of
heaven.
Now the only way to arrive at this piety of spirit, is to bring
all your actions to the same rule as your
Enough, I hope, has been said, to show you the necessity of
thus introducing Religion into all the actions of your common
life, and of living and acting with the same regard to God, in all
that you do, as in your prayers and alms.
Eating is one of the lowest actions of our lives, it is common
to us with mere animals, yet we see that the piety of all ages of
the world, has turned this ordinary action of an animal
a piety to God, by making every meal to begin and end with
devotion.
We see yet some remains of this custom in most
families; some such little formality, as shows you, that people
used to call upon God at the beginning and end of their meals.
But, indeed, it is now generally so performed, as to look more
like a mockery upon devotion, than any solemn application of the
mind unto God. In one house you may perhaps see the head
of the family just pulling off his hat; in another half getting up
from his seat; another shall, it may be, proceed so far, as to
make as if he had said something; but, however, these little attempts are the remains of some devotion that was formerly used
But to such a pass are we now come, that though the custom
is yet preserved, yet we can hardly bear with him, that seems to
perform it with any degree of seriousness, and look upon it as a
fanatical temper, if a man has not done it as soon as
he begins.
I would not be thought to plead for the necessity of long prayers at these times; but thus much I think may be said, that
If every head of a family was, at the return of every meal, to
A Serious Call to
oblige himself to make a solemn adoration of God, in such a
decent manner, as becomes a devout mind, it would be very
likely to teach him, that swearing, sensuality, gluttony, and loose
discourse, were very improper at those meals, which were to
begin and end with devotion.
And in these days of general corruption, this part of devotion
is fallen into a mock ceremony, it must be imputed to this cause,
that sensuality and intemperance have got too great a power over
us, to suffer us to add any devotion to our meals. But thus
much must be said, that when we are as pious as Jews and
a proof of the reasonableness of the doctrine of this and the fore
going chapters; that is, as a proof that religion is to be the
and measure of all the actions of ordinary life. For surely, if
we are not to eat, but under such rules of devotion, it must
plainly appear, that whatever else we do, must in its proper way,
be done with the same regard to the glory of God, and agreeably
to the principles of a devout and pious mind.
GREAT part of the world are free from the necessities of
labour and employments, and have their time and
fortunes in their own disposal.
But as no one is to live in his employment according
to his own humour, or for such ends as please his own
fancy, but is to do all his business in such a manner, as to make
it a service unto God; so those who have no particular employ
ment, are so far from being left at greater
themselves, to pursue their own humours, and spend their time
and fortunes as they please, that they are under greater obliga
tions of living wholly unto God in all their
The freedom of their state, lays them under a greater necessity
of always choosing, and doing the best things.
They are those, of whom much will be required, because much is given unto them.
A slave can only live unto God in one particular way, that is,
by religious patience and submission in his state of slavery.
But all ways of holy living, all instances, and all kinds of
time and their fortune.
It is as much the duty therefore, of such persons, to make a
wise use of their liberty, to devote themselves to all kinds of
virtue, to aspire after everything that is holy and pious, to
endeavour to be eminent in all good works, and to please God
in the highest and most perfect manner; it is as much their
duty to be thus
extensive in their endeavours after holiness, as it is the duty of
a slave to be resigned unto God in his state of slavery.
You are no labourer, or tradesman, you are neither merchant,
nor soldier; consider yourself therefore, as placed in a state, in
some degree like that of good angels, who are sent into the
For the more you are free from the common necessities of men,
the more you are to higher perfections of angels.
Had you, Serena, been obliged by the necessities of life, to
wash clothes for your maintenance, or to wait upon some
mistress, that demanded all your labour, it would then be your
duty to serve and glorify God, by such humility, obedience, and
faithfulness, as might adorn that state of life.
It would then be recommended to your care, to improve that
one talent to its greatest height. That when the time came, that
mankind were to be rewarded for their labours by the great
Judge of quick and dead, you might be received with a ‘Well
done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of the
Lord.’*
But as God has given you five talents, as he has placed you
above the necessities of life, as he has left you in the hands of
yourself, in the happy
of virtue; as he has enriched you with many gifts of
and left you nothing to do, but to make the best use of variety
of blessings, to make the most of a short life, to study your own
so it is now your duty to imitate the greatest servants of God,
to inquire how the most eminent saints have lived, to study all
* Matt. xxv.A Serious Call to
the arts and methods of perfection, and to set no bounds to your
love and gratitude to the bountiful author of so many blessings.
It is now your duty to turn your five talents, into five more,
and to consider how your time, and leisure, and health, and
fortune, may be made so many happy means of purifying your own
soul, improving your fellow-creatures in the ways of virtue, and of
carrying you at last to the greatest heights of eternal glory.
As you have no mistress to serve, so let your own
object of your daily care and attendance. Be sorry for its
impurities, its spots and imperfections, and study all the holy
Delight in its service, and beg of God to adorn it with every
Nourish it with good works, give it peace in solitude, get it
strength in prayer, make it reading, enlighten it by
meditation, make it love, sweeten it with
This, Serena, is your profession. For as sure as God is one
God, so sure it is, that he has but one command to all mankind,
whether they be bond or free, rich or poor; and that is, to act
up to the excellency of that
live by reason, to walk in the
This is the one common command of God to all mankind. If
you have an employment, you are to be thus reasonable, and
pious, and holy, in the exercise of it; if you have time and
a fortune in your own power, you are obliged to be thus
reasonable, and holy, and pious, in the use of all your time, and
all your fortune.
The right religious use of everything and every talent, is the
indispensable duty of every being, that is capable of knowing
right and wrong.
For the reason why we are to do anything as unto God, and
with regard to our duty, and relation to him, is the same reason
why we are to do everything as unto God, and with regard to
our duty, and relation to him.
That which is a reason for our being wise and holy, in the
* a Devout and Holy Life.
discharge of all our business, is the same reason for our being
wise and holy in the use of all our money.
As we have always the same natures, and are everywhere the
Either this piety and
every way of life, and to extend to the use of everything, or it is
to go through no part of life.
If we might forget ourselves, or forget God, if we might dis
regard our reason, and live by humour and fancy, in anything,
or at any time, or in any place, it would be as lawful to do the
same in everything, at every time, and every place.
If therefore some People fancy, that they must be grave and
solemn at Church, but may be
For every argument that shows the
Charity, proves the wisdom of spending all our
Every argument that proves the wisdom and reasonableness of
having times of Prayer, shows the wisdom and reasonableness of
losing none of our time.
If anyone could show, that we need not always act as in the
divine presence, that we need not consider and use everything,
as the gift of God, that we need not always live by
make Religion the rule of all our
would show, that we need never act as in the presence of God,
nor make Religion and reason the measure of any of our actions.
If therefore we are to live unto God at any time, or in any place,
we are to live unto him at all times, and in all places. If we
A Serious Call to
are to use anything as the gift of God, we are to use everything
as his gift. If we are to do anything by strict rules of reason
and piety, we are to do everything in the same manner. Because
reason, and wisdom, and piety, are as much the best things at all times, and in
If it is our rational nature, that
If we had a Religion that consisted in absurd
that had no regard to the
well be glad to have some part of their life excused from it.
But as the Religion of the
exaltation of our best faculties, as it only requires a life of the
highest Reason, as it only requires us to use this
tempers as are the
wisdom as exalts our
can think it grievous, to live always in the spirit of such a
Religion, to have every part of his life full of it, but he that
would think it much more grievous, to be as the
in heaven?
Further, as God is one and the same being, always acting like
himself. and suitably to his own nature, so it is the duty of every
being that he has created, to live according to the nature that he
has given it, and always to act like itself.
It is therefore an immutable law of God, that all rational
beings should act reasonably in all their
time, or in that place, or upon this occasion, or in the use of some
particular thing, but at all times, in all places, at all occasions,
a Devout and Holy Life.
and in the use of all things. This is a law, that is as unchange
able as God, and can no more cease to be, than God can cease
to be a God of wisdom and
When therefore any being that is endued with reason, does an
unreasonable thing at any time, or in any place, or in the use of
anything, it sins against the great law of its nature, abuses itself,
and sins against God, the author of that nature.
They therefore who plead for indulgences and vanities, for any
foolish fashions, customs, and humours of the world, for the
misuse of our time, or money, plead for a rebellion against our
nature, for a rebellion against God, who has given us reason for
no other end, than to make it the rule and measure of all our
ways of life.
When therefore you are guilty of any folly, or extravagance, or
indulge any vain temper, do not consider it as a small matter,
because it may seem so, if compared to some other
consider it, as it is acting contrary to your nature, and then you
will see that there is nothing small, that is unreasonable. Because
all unreasonable ways are contrary to the nature of all rational
beings, whether men, or
The infirmities of human life make such food and raiment
necessary for us, as Angels do not want; but then it is no more
allowable for us to turn these necessities into follies, and indulge
ourselves in the luxury of food, or the vanities of dress, than it is
allowable for Angels to act below the dignity of their proper
state. For a reasonable life, and a wise use of our proper con
dition, is as much the duty of all men, as it is the duty of all
Angels and intelligent beings. These are not speculative flights,
or imaginary notions, but are plain and undeniable laws, that are
founded in the nature of rational beings, who as such are obliged
to live by reason, and glorify God by a continual right use of
their several talents and faculties. So that though men are not
Angels, yet they may know for what ends, and by what
men are to live and act, by considering the state and
of Angels. Our
this way, by making this petition a constant part of all our
Prayers. ‘Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.’ A
plain proof, that the obedience of men, is to
of Angels, and that rational beings on earth, are to live unto
God, as rational beings in Heaven live unto him.
When therefore you would represent to your mind, how
wisdom and holiness, they ought to use the things of this life,
A Serious Call to
you must not look at the world, but you must look up to God,
and the society of Angels, and think what wisdom and holiness
is fit to prepare you for such a state of glory. You must look
to all the highest precepts of the
Now all this is not over-straining the matter, or proposing to
ourselves, any needless perfection. It is but barely complying
with the
whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are just, what
soever things are pure, whatsoever things are of good report;
if there be any
things.’* For no one can come near the doctrine of this passage,
but he that proposes to himself to do everything in this life as
the servant of God, to live by
and to make the
and measure of his desiring, and using, every gift of God.
AS the holiness of states and
employments of life unto God, as it requires us to aspire
after an universal obedience, doing and using every
thing as the servants of God, so are we more especially
obliged to observe this religious exactness, in the use
of our estates and
The reason of this would appear very plain, if we were only to
consider, that our estates are as much the gift of God, as our eyes,
or our hands, and are no more to be buried, or thrown away at
pleasure, than we are to put out our eyes, or throw away our
limbs, as we please.
But besides this consideration, there are several other great
* Phil. iv. 8.a Devout and Holy Life.
and important reasons, why we should be religiously exact in the
use of our estates.
First, Because the manner of using our money, or spending
our estate, enters so far into the business of every day, and
makes so great a part of our common life, that our common life
must be much of the same nature, as our common way of spending
our estate. If
and religion hath got great hold of us; but if humour, pride, and
fancy, are the measures of our spending our estate, then humour,
Secondly, Another great reason for devoting all our estate to
right uses, is this, because it is capable of being used to the
most excellent purposes, and is so great a means of doing good.
If we waste it, we do not waste a trifle, that signifies little, but
we waste that which might be made as eyes to the blind, as a
husband to the widow, as a father to the orphan: We waste that,
which not only enables us to minister worldly comforts to those
that are in distress, but that which might purchase for ourselves
everlasting treasures in heaven. So that if we part with our
money in foolish ways, we part with a great power of comforting
our fellow-creatures, and of making ourselves for ever blessed.
If there be nothing so glorious as doing good, if there is
nothing that makes us so like to God, then nothing can be so
glorious in the use of our money, as to use it all in works of
and goodness, making ourselves friends, and
If a man had eyes, and hands, and feet, that he could give to
those that wanted them; if he should either lock them up in a
chest, or please himself with some needless, or ridiculous use of
Now money has very much the nature of eyes and feet; if we
either lock it up in chests, or waste it in needless and ridiculous
expenses upon ourselves, whilst the poor and the distressed
want it for their necessary uses; if we consume it in the
ridiculous ornaments of apparel, whilst others are starving in
nakedness, we are not far from the cruelty of him, that chooses
rather to adorn his house with the hands and eyes, than to give
A Serious Call to
them to those that want them. If we choose to indulge our
selves in such expensive enjoyments, as have no real use in
them, such as satisfy no real want, rather than to entitle our
selves to an eternal reward, by disposing of our money well, we
are guilty of his madness, that rather chooses to lock up eyes
and hands, than to make himself for ever blessed, by giving
them to those that want them.
For after we have satisfied our own sober and reasonable wants,
all the rest of our money is but like spare eyes, or hands; it is
something that we cannot keep to ourselves, without being
foolish in the use of it, something that can only be used well, by
giving it to those that want it.
Thirdly, If we waste our money, we are not only guilty of
wasting a talent which God has given us, we are not only guilty
of making that useless, which is so powerful a means of doing
good, but we do ourselves this further harm, that we turn this
useful talent into a powerful means of corrupting ourselves;
because so far as it is spent wrong, so far it is spent in the
support of some wrong temper, in gratifying some vain and
unreasonable
of the world, which, as Christians and reasonable men, we are
obliged to renounce.
As wit and fine
Consider again the fore-mentioned comparison; if the man
that would not make a right use of spare eyes and hands, should,
by continually trying to use them himself, spoil his own eyes and
hands, we might justly accuse him of still greater madness.
Now this is truly the case of riches spent upon ourselves in
vain and needless expenses; in trying to use them where they
have no real use, nor we any real want, we only use them to our
great hurt, in creating unreasonable a Devout and Holy Life.
tempers, in indulging our
vain turn of mind. For high eating and drinking, fine clothes,
and fine houses, state, and equipage, gay pleasures, and diversions,
do all of them naturally hurt, and disorder our hearts; they are
the food and nourishment of all the folly and weakness of our
our tempers. They are all of them the support of something,
that ought not to be supported; they are contrary to that
sobriety and piety of heart, which relishes divine things; they
are like so many weights upon our
and less inclined to raise up our thoughts and affections to the
things that are above.
So that money thus spent, is not merely wasted, or lost, but it
is spent to bad purposes, and miserable effects, to the corruption
and disorder of our hearts, and to the making us less able to live
up to the sublime doctrines of the
money from the poor, to buy poison for ourselves.
For so much as is spent in the vanity of dress, may be
reckoned so much laid out to fix vanity in our minds. So much
as is laid out for idleness and indulgence, may be reckoned so
much given to render our hearts dull and sensual. So much as
is spent in state and equipage, may be reckoned so much spent
to dazzle your own eyes, and render you the idol of your own
reasonable wants, you only support some unreasonable
So that on all accounts, whether we consider our fortune as a
talent, and trust from God, or the great good that it enables us to
do, or the great harm that it does to ourselves, if idly spent; on all
these great accounts it appears, that it is absolutely necessary, to
make reason and religion the strict rule of using all our fortune.
Every exhortation in
satisfying only such wants as God would have satisfied; every
exhortation to be spiritual and heavenly, pressing after a glorious
change of our nature; every exhortation to love our neighbour
as ourselves, to love all mankind as God has loved them, is a
command to be strictly religious in the use of our money. For
none of these tempers can be complied with, unless we be wise
and reasonable, spiritual and heavenly, exercising a brotherly
a godlike
and this use of our worldly goods, is so much the doctrine of
all the
being taught something of it.
markable passage of Scripture, which is sufficient to justify all
that I have said concerning this religious use of all our
‘When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the
holy
glory. And before him shall be gathered all nations; and he
shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth
the sheep from the goats; and he shall set the sheep on his
right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King
say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my
Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the founda
tion of the world. For I was an hungred, and ye gave me
meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger,
and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick,
and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.--
then shall he say unto them on the left hand, Depart from me,
ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his
angels; for I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat; I was
thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye
took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in
prison, and ye visited me not. These shall go away into ever
lasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal.’
I have quoted
the way of the world, one would hardly think, that Christians
had ever read this part of Scripture. For what is there in the
lives of depended upon
these good works? And yet the necessity of them is here
asserted in the highest manner, and pressed upon us by a lively
description of the glory and terrors of the day of Judgment.
Some people, even of those who may be reckoned virtuous
Christians, look upon this text only as a general recommendation
of occasional works of charity; whereas it shows the necessity
not only of occasional charities now and then, but the necessity
of such an entire charitable life, as is a continual exercise of
all such works of charity as we are able to perform.
You own, that you have no title to salvation, if you have
neglected these good works; because such persons as have
neglected them, are, at the last day, to be placed on the left
hand, and banished with a Depart, ye cursed. There is, there
fore, no salvation but in the performance of these good Works.
Who is it, therefore, that may be said to have performed these
good Works? Is it he that has sometime assisted a prisoner, or
relieved the poor or sick? This would be as absurd, as to say,
that he had performed the duties of devotion, who had sometime
said his prayers. Is it, therefore, he that has several times done
these works of charity? This can no more be said, than he can
be said to be the truly just man, who had done
several times. What is the a Devout and Holy Life.
forming these good works? How shall a man trust that he
performs them as he ought?
Now the rule is very plain and easy, and such as is common to
every other virtue, or good
The Apostle St. Peter puts this question to our
Now the forgiving, is also the rule of giving; you are
not to give, or do good to seven, but to seventy times seven.
You are not to cease from giving, because you have given often
to the same person, or to other persons; but must look upon
yourself as much obliged to continue relieving those that con
tinue in want, as you were obliged to relieve them once or twice.
Had it not been in your power, you had been excused from
relieving any person once; but if it is in your power to relieve
people often, it is as much your duty to do it often, as it is the
duty of others to do it but seldom because they are but seldom
able. He that is not ready to forgive every brother, as often as
* † Luke xvii. 4.
And the reason of all this is very plain, because there is the
same goodness, the same excellency, and the same necessity of
being thus charitable at one time, as at another. It is as much
the best use of our money, to be always doing good with it, as it
is the best use of it at any particular time; so that that which
is a reason for a charitable action, is as good a reason for a
As sure, therefore, as these works of charity are necessary to
salvation, so sure is it, that we are to do them to the utmost of
our power; not to-day, or to-morrow, but through the whole course of our life. If therefore it be our duty at any time to
Either therefore you must so far renounce your
as to say, that you need never perform any of these good works;
or you must own, that you are to perform them all your life in
as high a degree as you are able. There is no middle way to
be taken, any more than there is a middle way betwixt pride
and humility, or temperance and intemperance. If you do not
strive to fulfil all charitable works, if you neglect any of them
that are in your power, and deny assistance to those that want
what you can give, let it be when it will, or where it will, you
number yourself amongst those that want Christian a Devout and Holy Life.
Because it is as much your duty to do good with all that you
have, and to live in the continual exercise of good works, as it
is your duty to be temperate in all that you eat and drink.
Hence also appears the necessity of renouncing all those foolish
and unreasonable expenses, which the pride and folly of mankind
have made so common and fashionable in the world. For if it
is necessary to do good works, as far as you are able, it must be
as necessary to renounce those needless ways of spending money,
which render you unable to do works of charity.
You must therefore no more conform to these ways of the
world, than you must conform to the
must no more spend with those that idly waste their money as
their own humour leads them, than you must drink with the
drunken, or indulge yourself with the epicure; because a course
of such expenses is no more consistent with a life of charity,
than excess in drinking is consistent with a life of sobriety.
When therefore any one tells you of the lawfulness of expensive
apparel, or the innocency of pleasing yourself with costly satis
factions, only imagine that the same person was to tell you, that
you need not do works of charity; that
to do good unto your poor brethren, as unto him; and then you
will see the wickedness of such advice: For to tell you, that you
may live in such expenses, as make it impossible for you to live in
the exercise of good works, is the same thing as telling you, that
you need not have any care about such good works themselves.
IT has already been observed, that a prudent and religious
care is to be used, in the manner of spending our money
or estate, because the manner of spending our estates
makes so great a part of our common life, and is so much
the business of every day, that according as we are wise,
or imprudent, in this respect, the whole course of our lives, will
be rendered either very wise, or very full of folly.
Persons that are well affected to Religion, that receive instruc
tions of piety with pleasure and satisfaction, often wonder how
it comes to pass, that they make no greater progress in that
Religion which they so much admire.
Now the reason of it is this; it is because Religion lives only
in their head, but something else has possession of their hearts;
and therefore they continue from year to year mere admirers,
and praisers of piety, without ever coming up to the reality and
If it be asked, why Religion does not get possession of their
hearts, the reason is this. It is not because they live in gross sins, or
But it is because their hearts are constantly employed, perverted,
and kept in a wrong state, by the indiscreet use of such things
as are lawful to be used.
The use and enjoyment of their estates is lawful, and there
fore it never comes into their heads, to imagine any great
danger from that quarter. They never reflect, that there is a
vain, and imprudent use of their estates, which, though it does
not destroy like gross sins, yet so disorders the heart, and sup
ports it in such sensuality and dulness, such pride and vanity, as
makes it incapable of receiving the life and spirit of piety.
For our
incapable of all innocent and lawful
things.
What is more innocent than rest and retirement? And yet
what more dangerous, than sloth and idleness? What is more
lawful than eating and drinking? And yet what more destruc
tive of all virtue, what more fruitful of all
and indulgence?
How lawful and praiseworthy is the care of a family? And
yet how certainly are many people rendered incapable of all
virtue, by a worldly and solicitous
Now it is for want of religious exactness in the use of these
innocent and lawful things, that Religion cannot get possession
of our hearts. And it is in the right and prudent management
of ourselves, as to these things, that all the arts of holy living
chiefly consist.
Gross sins are plainly seen, and easily avoided by persons that
A Gentleman that expends all his estate in sports, and a
a Devout and Holy Life.
woman that lays out all her fortune upon herself, can hardly be
persuaded that the spirit of Religion cannot subsist in such a
way of life.
These persons, as has been observed, may live free from
debaucheries, they may be friends of Religion, so far as to
praise and speak well of it, and admire it in their imaginations;
but it cannot govern their hearts, and be the spirit of their
laws to the use and spending of their estates.
For a woman that loves
Flavia and
Flavia has been the
As for poor people themselves, she will admit of no complaints
from them; she is very positive they are all cheats and liars;
and will say anything to get
sin to encourage them in their
You would think Flavia had the tenderest conscience in the
She buys all books of wit and humour, and has made an
expensive collection of all our English Poets. For she says, one
Flavia is very
Flavia would be a
If you visit Flavia on the
Thus lives Flavia; and if she lives ten years longer, she will
to be saved; but thus much must be said, that she has no
grounds from
For her whole life is in direct opposition to all those tempers and
practices, which the
If you were to hear her say, that she had lived all her life like
Anna the Prophetess, who
She may as well say, that she lived with our
was upon earth, as that she has lived in imitation of him, or
made it any part of her care to live in such tempers, as he
required of all those that would be his disciples. She may as
truly say, that she has every day washed the saints’ feet, as that
she has lived in humility and poverty of spirit; and as
And here it is to be well observed, that the poor, vain turn of
irreligion, the folly and vanity of this whole life of
Flavia, is all owing to the
When her parents died, she had no thought about her two
A Serious Call to
hundred pounds a year, but that she had so much money to do
what she would with, to spend upon herself, and purchase the
pleasures and gratifications of all her passions.
And it is this setting out, this false judgment and indiscreet
use of her fortune, that has filled her whole life with the same
indiscretion, and kept her from thinking of what is right, and
wise, and
If you have seen her delighted in plays and
She might have been humble, serious, devout, a lover of good books, an admirer of
And it was no wonder, that she should turn her time, her
mind, her
Now though the irregular trifling spirit of this character belongs,
For as Flavia seems to be undone by the unreasonable use of
More people are kept from a true sense and
by a regular kind of gross drunkenness. More men live regardless of the great duties of
This man would perhaps be devout, if he were not so great a
Virtuoso. Another is deaf to all the motives to piety, by in
dulging an idle, slothful temper.
Could you cure This man of his great curiosity and inquisitive
temper, or That of his false satisfaction and thirst after
you need do no more to make them both become men of great
piety.
If this woman would make
For all these things are only little, when they are compared
to great sins; and though they are little in that respect, yet they
are great, as they are impediments and hindrances of a pious spirit.
For as consideration is the only eye of the
of Religion can be seen by nothing else, so whatever raises a
levity of mind, a trifling spirit, renders the soul incapable of
seeing, apprehending, and relishing the doctrines of piety.
Would we therefore make a real progress in Religion, we must
not only abhor gross and notorious sins, but we must regulate
the innocent and lawful parts of our behaviour, and put the most
common and allowed actions of life, under the rules of discretion
and piety.
ANY one pious
great advantage, not only on its own account, but as
it uses us to live by
of ourselves.
A man of business, that has brought one part of his
affairs under certain rules, is in a fair way to take the same care
of the rest.
So he that has brought any one part of his life under the rules
of religion, may thence be taught to extend the same order and
regularity into other parts of his life.
If anyone is so wise as to think his time too precious to be
disposed of by chance, and left to be devoured by anything that
happens in his way: If he lays himself under a necessity of
observing how every day goes through his hands, and obliges
himself to a certain order of time in his business, his retirements,
and devotions, it is hardly to be imagined, how soon such a
conduct would reform, improve, and perfect the whole course of
his life.
He that once thus knows the value, and reaps the advantage
of a well-ordered time, will not long be a stranger to the value
of anything else that is of any real concern to him.
A rule that relates even to the smallest part of our life, is of
great benefit to us, merely as it is a rule.
For as the Proverb saith, He that has begun well, has half done: So he that has begun to live by rule, has gone a great
By rule, must here be constantly understood, a
For if a man should oblige himself to be moderate in his
meals, only in regard to his stomach; or abstain from drinking,
only to avoid the headache; or be moderate in his sleep, through
fear of a lethargy, he might be exact in these rules, without
being at all the better man for them.
But when he is moderate and regular in any of these things,
out of a sense of Christian sobriety and self-denial, that he may
offer unto God a more reasonable and holy life, then it is, that the
smallest rule of this kind, is naturally the beginning of great piety.
For the smallest rule in these matters is of great benefit, as it
teaches us some part of the government of ourselves, as it keeps
up a tenderness of mind, as it presents God often to our thoughts,
If a man, whenever he was in swore,
talked lewdly, or spoke evil of his neighbour, should make it a
rule to himself, either gently to reprove him, or if that was not
proper, then to leave the company as decently as he could; he
would find, that this little rule, like a little leaven hid in a great
quantity of meal, would spread and extend itself through the
whole form of his life.
If another should oblige himself to abstain on the Lord’s Day
from many innocent and lawful things, as travelling, visiting, common conversation, and discoursing upon
It would be easy to show, in many other instances, how little
and small matters are the first steps, and natural beginnings of
great
But the two things which of all others, most want to be under
a strict rule, and which are the greatest blessings both to our
selves and others, when they are rightly used, are our time, and
our money. These talents are continual means and opportuni
ties of doing good.
He that is piously strict, and exact in the wise management
of either of these, cannot be long ignorant of the right use of the
other. And he that is happy in the religious care and disposal
of them both, has already ascended several steps upon the ladder
of Christian perfection.
Miranda (the Sister of
Whilst she was under her mother, she was forced to be
genteel, to live in ceremony, to sit up late at nights, to be in the
folly of every fashion, and always visiting on Sundays; to go
patched, and loaded with a burden of finery, to the holy Sacra
ment; to be in every polite conversation; to hear profaneness
at the playhouse, and wanton songs and love intrigues at the
opera; to dance at public places, that fops and rakes might
admire the fineness of her shape, and the beauty of her
Miranda does not divide her duty between God, her neigh
Excepting her victuals, she never spent ten pounds a year
upon herself. If you were to see her, you would wonder what
poor body it was, that was so surprisingly neat and clean. She
has but one rule that she observes in her dress, to be always
clean, and in the cheapest things. Everything about her re
sembles the purity of her soul, and she is always clean without,
because she is always pure within.
Every morning sees her early at her Prayers, she rejoices in
the beginning of every day, because it begins all her pious
of holy living, and brings the fresh pleasure of repeating them.
She seems to be as a guardian Angel to those that dwell about
her, with her watchings and prayers blessing the place where
she dwells, and making intercession with God for those that are
asleep.
Her devotions have had some intervals, and God has heard
several of her private Prayers, before the light is suffered to
enter into her sister’s room. Miranda does not know what it is
When you see her at work, you see the same
governs all her other actions, she is either doing something that
is necessary for herself, or necessary for others, who want to be
assisted. There is scarcely a poor family in the neighbourhood,
but wears something or other that has had the labour of her
hands. Her wise and pious
nor can bear with the folly of idle and impertinent work. She
can admit of no such folly as this in the day, because she is to
answer for all her actions at night. When there is no wisdom
to be observed in the employment of her hands, when there is
no useful or charitable work to be done,
The
daily study; these she reads with a watchful attention, constantly
casting an eye upon herself, and trying herself, by every doctrine
that is there. When she has the
she supposes herself at the feet of our
and makes everything that she learns of them, so many laws of
her life. She receives their sacred words with as much atten
tion, and reverence, as if she saw their persons, and knew that
they were just come from Heaven, on purpose to teach her the
way that leads to it.
She thinks, that the trying of herself every day by the
doctrines of A Serious Call to
her trial at the last day. She is sometimes afraid that she lays
out too much money in books, because she cannot forbear buy
ing all practical books of any note; especially such as enter
into the heart of religion, and describe the inward holiness of
the Christian life. But of all human writings, the lives of pious
persons, and eminent saints, are her greatest delight. In these
she searches as for hidden treasure, hoping to find some secret
of holy living, some uncommon degree of piety, which she may
make her own. By this means Miranda has her head and her
To relate her charity, would be to relate the history of every
day for twenty years; for so long has all her fortune been spent
that way. She has set up nearly twenty poor tradesmen that
had failed in their business, and saved as many from failing.
She has educated several poor children, that were picked up in
the streets, and put them in a way of an honest employment.
As soon as any labourer is confined at home with sickness, she
sends him, till he recovers, twice the value of his wages, that he
may have one part to give to his family, as usual, and the other
to provide things convenient for his sickness.
If a family seems too large to be supported by the labour of
those that can work in it, she pays their rent, and gives them
something yearly towards their clothing. By this means, there
are many poor families that live in a comfortable manner, and
are from year to year blessing her in their prayers.
If there is any poor man or woman, that is more than ordi
narily Miranda has her eye upon them,
There is nothing in the character of Miranda more to be
Miranda once passed by a house, where the
Miranda is a constant relief to poor people in their
She has a great old people that are grown past
their labour. The parish allowance to such people is very seldom
a comfortable maintenance. For this reason they are the con
stant objects of her care; she adds so much to their allowance,
as somewhat exceeds the wages they got when they were young.
This she does to comfort the infirmities of their
free from trouble and distress, they may serve God in peace, and
tranquillity of mind. She has generally a large number of this
kind, who by her charities and exhortations to holiness, spend
their last days in great piety and devotion.
Miranda never wants
If a poor old traveller tells her, that he has neither strength,
nor food, nor money left, she never bids him go to the place from
whence he came, or tells him, that she cannot relieve him,
because he may be a cheat, or she does not know him; but she
relieves him for that reason, because he is a stranger, and unknown
to her. For it is the most noble part of
tender to those whom we never saw before, and perhaps never
may see again in this life. I was a stranger, and ye took me in,
saith our
will not relieve persons that are unknown to him?
Miranda considers, that
It may be, says Miranda, that I may often give to those that
Besides, where has the merit the
measure of charity? On the contrary, the Scripture saith, ‘If
thy enemy hunger, feed him, if he thirst, give him drink.’
Now this plainly teaches us, that the merit of persons is to be
no rule of our charity, but that we are to do acts of kindness to
those that least of all deserve it. For if I am to love and do
good to my worst enemies; if I am to be charitable to them,
notwithstanding all their spite and malice, surely merit is no
measure of charity. If I am not to with-hold my charity from
such bad people, and who are at the same time my enemies,
surely I am not to deny alms to poor beggars, whom I neither
know to be bad people, nor any way my enemies.
You will perhaps say, that by this means I encourage people
to be beggars. But the same thoughtless objection may be made
against all kinds of charities, for they may encourage people to
depend upon them. The same may be said against forgiving
our enemies, for it may encourage people to do us hurt. The
same may be said even against the goodness of God, that by
a Devout and Holy Life.
pouring his blessings on the evil and on the good, on the just
and on the unjust, evil and unjust men are encouraged in their
wicked ways. The same may be said against clothing the
naked, or giving medicines to the sick, for that may encourage
people to neglect themselves, and be careless of their health. But
when the love of God dwelleth in you, when it has enlarged your
When you are at any time turning away the poor, the old, the
sick and helpless traveller, the lame, or the blind, ask yourself this
question, Do I sincerely wish these poor creatures may be as
happy as Lazarus, that was carried by
This is the
and if she lives ten years longer, she will have spent fifty hundred
pounds in charity, for that which she allows herself, may fairly
be reckoned amongst her alms.
When she dies, she must shine amongst Apostles, and Saints,
and Martyrs; she must stand amongst the first servants of God,
and be glorious amongst those that have fought the good fight,
and finished their course with joy.
NOW this life of Miranda, which
To live as she does, is as truly suitable to the
as to be baptized, or receive the
Her Saints of former ages;
and it is because they lived as she does, that we now celebrate
their memories, and praise God for their examples.
There is nothing that is whimsical, trifling, or unreasonable in
her character; but everything there described, is a right and
proper instance of a solid and real piety.
It is as easy to show, that it is whimsical to go to
to say one’s prayers, as that it is whimsical to observe any of
these rules of life. For all
of spending her time and fortune, of eating, working, dressing,
and conversing, are as substantial parts of a
life, as devotion and prayer.
For there is nothing to be said for the wisdom of sobriety, the
wisdom of devotion, the wisdom of charity, or the wisdom of
humility, but what is as good an argument for the wise and
reasonable use of apparel.
Neither can anything be said against the folly of luxury, the
folly of sensuality, the folly of
If you may be vain in one thing, you may be vain in every
thing; for one kind of vanity only differs from another, as one
kind of intemperance differs from another.
If you spend your fortune in the needless vain finery of dress,
you cannot condemn prodigality, or extravagance, or luxury,
without condemning yourself.
If you fancy that it is your only folly, and that therefore there
can be no great matter in it; you are like those that think they
a Devout and Holy Life.
are only guilty of the folly of covetousness, or the folly of
ambition. Now though some people may live so plausible a
life, as to appear chargeable with no other fault, than that of
covetousness or ambition; yet the case is not as it appears, for
covetousness, or ambition, cannot subsist in a heart, in other
respects rightly devoted to God.
In like manner, though some people may spend most that
they have in needless expensive ornaments of dress, and yet
seem to be in every other respect truly pious, yet it is certainly
false; for it is as impossible for a mind that is in a true state of
religion, to be vain in the use of clothes, as to be vain in the use
of alms or devotions. Now to convince you of this from your
own reflections, let us suppose that some eminent saint, as for
instance, that the holy Virgin Mary was sent into the world, to
Now what is the reason, that when you think of a saint, or
eminent servant of God, you cannot admit of the vanity of
apparel? Is it not because it is inconsistent with such a right
state of heart, such true and
therefore, a demonstration, that where such vanity is admitted,
there a right state of heart, true and exalted piety, must needs
be wanted? For as certainly as the holy Virgin Mary could
Covetousness is not a Gold or silver, but because it supposes a foolish and unreasonable
In like manner, the expensive finery of dress is not a crime,
because there is anything good or
the expensive ornaments of clothing, shows a foolish and un-
A Serious Call to
reasonable state of heart, that is fallen from right notions of
human
necessities of life, into so many instances of pride and folly.
All the world agree in condemning remarkable fops. Now
what is the reason of it? Is it because there is anything sinful
in their particular dress, or affected manners? No: but it is
because all people know, that it shows the state of a man’s
have anything
to suppose a fop of great piety, is as much nonsense, as to sup
pose a coward of great courage. So that all the world agree in
owning, that the use and manner of clothes, is a mark of the
state of a man’s mind, and consequently, that it is a thing
highly essential to religion. But then it should be well con
sidered, that as it is not only the sot that is guilty of intem
perance, but everyone that trangresses the right and religious
measures of eating and drinking; so it should be considered,
that it is not only the fop that is guilty of the vanity and abuse
of dress, but everyone that departs from the reasonable and
religious ends of clothing.
As therefore every argument against sottishness, is as good an
argument against all kinds of intemperance; so every argument
against the vanity of fops, is as good an argument against all vanity and abuse of dress. For they are all of the same kind,
For as in the matter of temperance, there is no rule, but the
This therefore is the way that you are to judge of the
of vain apparel: You are to consider it as an offence against the
proper use of clothes, as covetousness is an offence against the
proper use of money; you are to consider it as an indulgence of
proud and unreasonable tempers, as an offence against the
a Devout and Holy Life.
humility and sobriety of the Christian spirit; you are to consider
it as an offence against all those doctrines, that require you to do
all to the glory of God, that require you to make a right use of
your talents; you are to consider it as an offence against all
those texts of Scripture, that command you to love your neigh
bour as yourself, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, and do
all works of
ceive yourself with saying, Where can be the harm of clothes?
for the covetous man might as well say, Where can be the harm
of gold or silver? but you must consider, that it is a great deal
of harm to want that wise, and reasonable, and humble state
of heart, which is according to the spirit of religion, and which
no one can have in the manner that he ought to have it, who
indulges himself either in the vanity of dress, or the desire of
There is therefore nothing right in the use of clothes, or in the
use of anything else in the world, but the plainness and simplicity of the Gospel. Every other use of things (however polite
If you would be a good Christian, there is but one way, you
must live wholly unto God; and if you would live wholly unto
God, you must live according to the wisdom that comes from
God; you must act according to right judgments of the
and value of things; you must live in the exercise of holy and
heavenly affections, and use all the gifts of God to his praise
and glory.
Some persons perhaps, who admire the purity and
of this life of Miranda, may say, How can it be proposed as a
It is answered, Just as you may imitate the life of our
Saviour
life, and the state and condition of his apostles, were more dif
ferent from yours, than that of Miranda’s is; and yet their life,
It is their spirit therefore, their piety, their love of God, that
you are to imitate, and not the particular form of their life.
Act under God as they did, direct your common actions to
that end which they did, glorify your proper state with such love
of God, such charity to your neighbour, such humility and self
denial, as they did; and then, though you are only teaching
A Serious Call to
your own children, and St. Paul is converting whole nations, yet
Do not think therefore, that you cannot, or need not be like
Miranda, because you are not in her state of life; for as the
same spirit and temper would have made Miranda a saint,
Miranda is what she is, because she does everything in the
You are married, you say, therefore you have not your time
and fortune in your power as she has.
It is very true; and therefore you cannot spend so much time,
nor so much money, in the manner that she does.
But now
she spends so much time, or so much money in such a manner,
but that she is careful to make the best use of all that time, and
all that fortune, which God has put into her hands. Do you
therefore make the best use of all that time and money which
is in your disposal, and then you are like
If she has two hundred pounds a year, and you have only two mites, have you not the more reason to be exceeding exact in
You say, if you were to imitate the cleanly plainness and cheapness of her dress, you should offend your
First, Be very sure, that this is true, before you make it an excuse.
Secondly, If your husbands do really require you to patch your
faces, to expose your breasts naked, and to be fine and expensive
in all your apparel, then take these two resolutions:
First, To forbear from all this, as soon as your husbands will
permit you.
Secondly, To use your utmost endeavours, to recommend
yourselves to their affections by such solid virtues, as may
As to this doctrine concerning the plainness and modesty of
dress, it may perhaps be thought by some, to be sufficiently
confuted by asking, whether all persons are to be clothed in the
same manner?
These questions are generally put by those, who had rather
perplex the plainest truths, than be obliged to follow them.
Let it be supposed, that I had recommended an universal
plainness of diet. Is it not a thing sufficiently reasonable to be
universally recommended? But would it thence follow, that
the nobleman and the labourer were to live upon the same food?
Suppose I had pressed an universal temperance, does not
religion enough justify such a doctrine? But would it therefore
follow, that all people were to drink the same liquors, and in the
same quantity?
In like manner, though plainness and sobriety of dress is
recommended to all, yet it does by no means follow, that all are
to be clothed in the same manner.
Now what is the particular rule with regard to temperance?
Is not this the rule? Are they not to guard against indulgence, to make their use of liquors a
Now transfer this rule to the matter of apparel, and all ques
tions about it are answered.
Let everyone but guard against the vanity of dress, let them
but make their use of clothes a matter of conscience, let them but
desire to make the best use of their money, and then everyone
has a rule, that is sufficient to direct them in every state of life.
This rule will no more let the great be vain in their dress, than
intemperate in their liquors; and yet will leave it as lawful to
have some difference in their apparel, as to have some difference
in their drink.
But now will you say, that you may use the finest, richest wines, when, and as you please; that you may be as
For as the lawfulness of different liquors, leaves no room, nor
any excuse for the smallest degrees of intemperance in drinking,
so the lawfulness of different apparel, leaves no room, nor any
excuse for the smallest degrees of vanity in dress.
To ask what is vanity in dress, is no more a puzzling question,
than to ask what is intemperance in drinking. And though
Religion does not here state the particular measure for all
individuals, yet it gives such general rules, as are a sufficient
direction in every state of life.
He that lets Religion teach him, that the end of drinking is
only so far to refresh our spirits, as to keep us in good health, and
make soul and
So he that lets Religion teach him, that the end of clothing is
only to hide our shame and nakedness, and to secure our
from the injuries of weather, and that he is to desire to glorify
God by a sober and wise use of this necessity, will always know
what vanity of dress is, in his particular state.
And he that thinks it a needless nicety, to talk of the religious use of apparel, has as much reason to think it a needless nicety,
Further, as all things that are lawful, are not therefore
expedient, so there are some things lawful in the use of liquors,
and apparel, which by abstaining from them for pious ends, may
be made means of great perfection.
Thus, for instance, if a man should deny himself such use of
liquors as is lawful; if he should refrain from such expense in
his drink as might be allowed without sin; if he should do this,
not only for the sake of a more pious self-denial, but that he
might be able to relieve and refresh the helpless, poor, and sick:
if another should abstain from the use of that which is lawful in
dress, if he should be more frugal and mean in his habit, than
the necessities of religion absolutely require; if he should do this
not only as a means of a better humility, but that he may be
more able to clothe other People; these Persons might be said
to do that, which was highly suitable to the true spirit, though
not absolutely required by the letter of the law of
For if those who give a cup of cold water to a disciple of Christ, shall not lose their reward, how dear must they be to Christ, who
But to return. All that has been here said to married
may serve for the same instruction to such as are still under the
direction of their Parents.
Now though the obedience which is due to parents, does not
oblige them to carry their virtues no higher than their parents
a Devout and Holy Life.
require them; yet their obedience requires them to submit to
their direction in all things, not contrary to the laws of God.
If, therefore, your parents require you to live more in the
fashion and conversation of the world, or to be more
Now although, whilst you are in this state, you may be
obliged to forego some means of improving your
are some others to be found in it, that are not to be had in
a life of more liberty.
For if in this state, where obedience is so great a virtue, you
comply in all things lawful, out of a pious, tender sense of duty,
What you lose by being restrained from such things, as you
would choose to observe, you gain by that excellent virtue of
obedience, in humbly complying against your temper.
Now what is here granted, is only in things lawful; and
therefore the diversion of our English stage is here excepted;
being elsewhere proved, as I think, to be absolutely unlawful.
Thus much to show, how persons under the direction of others,
may imitate the wise and pious life of
But as for those who are altogether in their own hands, if the
liberty of their state makes them covet the best gifts, if it carries
them to choose the most excellent ways, if they having all in their
own power, should turn the whole form of their life into a regular
exercise of the
learned
All persons cannot receive this saying. They that are able to
receive it, let them receive it, and bless that Spirit of God, which
has put such good motions into their hearts.
God may be served, and glorified in every state of life. But
as there are some states of life more desirable than others, that
more purify our
dedicate us unto God in a higher manner, so those who are at
more eminently devoted to his service.
Ever since the beginning of
orders, or ranks of People amongst good Christians.
The one that feared and served God in the common offices and
business of a secular worldly life.
The other renouncing the common business and common
A Serious Call to
enjoyments of life, as riches, marriage, honours, and
This testimony
Eusebius, who lived at the time of the
‘Therefore,’ saith he, ‘there hath been instituted in the Church
of Christ, two ways, or manners of living. The one raised
above the ordinary state of nature, and common ways of living,
rejects wedlock, possessions, and
They who are of this order of people, seem dead to the life
of this world, and having their bodies only upon earth, are in
their minds, and contemplations, dwelling in heaven. From
whence, like so many heavenly inhabitants, they look down
upon human life, making intercessions and oblations to Almighty
God, for the whole race of mankind. And this not with the
blood of beasts, or the fat, or smoke, and burning of bodies,
but with the highest exercises of true piety, with cleansed and
purified hearts, and with an whole form of life strictly devoted
to virtue. These are their sacrifices, which they continually
offering unto God, implore his
and their fellow-creatures.
Christianity receives this as the perfect manner of
The other is of a lower form, and suiting itself more to the
condition of human chaste wedlock, the care of
children and family, of trade and business, and goes through all
the employments of life under a
Now they who have chosen this manner of life, have their
set times for retirement and spiritual exercises, and particular
days are set apart, for their hearing and learning the word of
God. And this order of people are considered, as in the second state of piety.’
Thus this learned
If therefore persons, of either sex, moved with the life of
Miranda, and desirous of
* Euseb., ‘Dem. Evan.,’ l. 1, c. 8.
Now as this learned historian observes, that it was an
For a Religion that opens such a scene of Glory, that dis
covers things so infinitely above all the world, that so triumphs
over
shall so soon be as the Angels of God in Heaven; what wonder is
If the Religion of Christians is founded upon the infinite
humiliation, the cruel mockings and scourgings, the prodigious
sufferings, the poor, persecuted life, and painful death of a crucified
Son of God; what wonder is it, if many humble adorers of this
profound mystery, many affectionate lovers of a crucified Lord,
should renounce their share of worldly pleasures, and give
themselves up to a continual course of mortification and self
denial, that thus suffering with
him hereafter?
If Truth itself hath assured us, that
If our
sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have
treasure in heaven: And come and follow me.’ What wonder
is it, that there should be amongst Christians some such zealous
followers of
of
estates, choose a voluntary poverty, and relieve all the poor that
they are able?
If the chosen vessel, St. Paul, hath
And if in these our days, we want examples of these several degrees of perfection, if neither
Antiquity, and quoted these
few passages of Scripture, to support some uncommon practices
in the life of Miranda; and to show that her highest rules of
‘He that hath ears to ear, let him hear.’
IHAVE in the foregoing Chapters, gone through the several
great instances of
the parts of our common life, our employments, our talents,
and gifts of fortune, are all to be made holy and accept
I shall now show, that this regularity of devotion, this holiness
of common life, this religious use of everything we have, is a
devotion that is the duty of all orders of Christian people.
Fulvius has had a learned education, and taken his degrees in
Fulvius thinks that he is conscientious in this conduct, and is
He has no Religion, no Devotion, no pretences to Piety. He
lives by no
a priest, nor a father, nor a guardian, nor has any employment or
family to look after.
But Fulvius, you are a rational creature, and as such, are as
Though you have no employment, yet as you are baptized
into the profession of Christ’s religion, you are as much obliged
to live according to the holiness of the
form all the promises made at your baptism, as any man is
obliged to be honest and faithful in his calling. If you abuse
this great calling, you are not false in a small matter, but you
abuse the precious blood of
afresh; you neglect the highest instances of divine goodness;
you disgrace the
you abuse the means of
it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon, at the day of judgment, than for you.
It is therefore great folly, for anyone to think himself at liberty
A Serious Call to
to live as he pleases, because he is not in such a state of life as
some others are: For if there is anything dreadful in the abuse
of any trust; if there is anything to be feared for the neglect of
any calling; there is nothing more to be feared than the wrong
use of our reason, nor anything more to be dreaded, than the
No man therefore, must think himself excused from the exactness of piety and morality, because he has chosen to be
If a man were to choose to put out his eyes, rather than enjoy
the light, and see the works of God, if he should voluntarily
kill himself, by refusing to eat and drink, everyone would own,
that such a one was a rebel against God, who justly deserved
his highest indignation. You would not say, that this was only
sinful in a priest, or a master of a family, but in every man as
such.
Now wherein does the sinfulness of this behaviour consist?
Does it not consist in this, that he abuses his nature, and refuses
to act that part for which God had created him? But if this be
true, then all persons who abuse their reason, that act a different
part from that for which God created them, are like this man,
rebels against God, and on the same account subject to his
wrath.
Let us suppose that this man, instead of putting out his eyes,
had only employed them in looking at ridiculous things, or shut
Now do but suppose a man acting unreasonably; do but sup-
a Devout and Holy Life.
pose him extinguishing his reason, instead of putting out his eyes,
and living in a course of folly and impertinence, instead of starv
ing himself to death; and then you have found as great a rebel
against God.
For he who puts out his eyes, or murders himself, has only
this
that he refuses to act that part for which he was created, and
puts himself into a state that is contrary to the divine will.
And surely this is the guilt of everyone who lives an unreason
able, unholy, and foolish life.
As therefore, no particular state, or private life, is an excuse
for the abuse of our bodies, or
Till therefore, a man can show, that he sincerely endeavours
to live according to the will of God, to be that which God re
quires him to be; until he can show, that he is striving to live
according to the holiness of the Christian religion; whosoever
he be, or wheresoever he be, he has all that to answer for, that
they have, who refuse to live, who abuse the greatest trusts, and
neglect the highest calling in the world.
Everybody acknowledges, that all orders of men are to be
equally and exactly honest and faithful; there is no exception
to be made in these duties, for any private or particular state of
life. Now if we would but attend to the reason and
things; if we would but consider the nature of God, and the
nature of man, we should find the same necessity for every other
right use of our reason, for every grace, or religious temper of
the Christian life: We should find it as absurd to suppose, that
one man must be exact in piety, and another need not, as to
suppose that one man must be exact in honesty, but another
need not. For Christian humility, sobriety, devotion, and piety,
are as great and necessary parts of a reasonable life, as justice
and honesty.
And on the other hand, pride, sensuality, and covetousness,
are as great disorders of the soul, are as high an abuse of our
reason, and as contrary to God, as cheating and dishonesty.
Theft and dishonesty seem indeed, to vulgar eyes, to be greater
sins, because they are so hurtful to
severely punished by human laws.
But if we consider mankind in a higher view, as God’s order
A Serious Call to
or society of rational beings, that are to glorify him by the right
use of their
their nature, we shall find, that every temper that is equally
contrary to reason and
designs, and disorders the
world, is equally sinful in man, and equally odious to God.
This would show us, that the sensuality is like the sin of
Again, if we consider mankind in a further view, as a redeemed
order of fallen spirits, that are baptized into a fellowship with
the
according to his holy inspirations; to offer to God the reason
able sacrifice of an humble, pious, and thankful life; to purify
themselves from the disorders of their fall; to make a right use
of the means of
we look at mankind in this true light, then we shall find, that all
tempers that are contrary to this holy society, that are abuses of
this infinite mercy; all actions that make us unlike to Christ,
that disgrace his body, that abuse the means of grace, and
oppose our hopes of glory, have everything in them, that can
make us for ever odious unto God. So that though pride and
sensuality, and other
society, as cheating and dishonesty do; yet they hurt that society,
and oppose those ends, which are greater and more glorious in
the eyes of God, than all the
Nothing therefore can be more false, than to imagine, that
because we are private persons, that have taken upon us no
charge or employment of life, that therefore we may live more
at large, indulge our appetites, and be less careful of the duties
of piety and holiness; for it is as good an excuse for cheating
and dishonesty. Because he that abuses his reason, that indulges
himself in lust and sensuality, and neglects to act the wise and
If therefore, you rather choose to be an idle Epicure, than to
be unfaithful; if you rather choose to live in lust and sensuality,
than to injure your neighbour in his goods, you have made no
better a provision for the favour of God, than he that rather
chooses to rob a house, than to rob a church.
For the abusing of our own
against God, as the injuring our neighbour; and he that wants
piety towards God, has done as much to damn himself, as he
that wants honesty towards men. Every argument therefore,
a Devout and Holy Life.
that proves it necessary for all men, in all stations of life, to be
truly honest, proves it equally necessary for all men, in all stations
of life, to be truly holy and pious, and do all things in such a
manner, as is suitable to the glory of God.
Again, another argument to prove, that all orders of men are
obliged to be thus holy and devout in the common course of
their lives, in the use of everything that they enjoy, may be
taken from our obligation to prayer.
It is granted, that prayer is a duty that belongs to all states
and conditions of men; now if we inquire into the reason of
this, why no state of life is to be excused from prayer, we shall
find it as good a reason, why every state of life is to be made a
state of piety and holiness in all its parts.
For the reason why we are to pray unto God, and praise him
with Hymns, and Psalms of Thanksgiving, is this, because we
are to live wholly unto God, and glorify him all possible ways.
It is not because the praises of words, or forms of thanksgiving,
are more particularly parts of piety, or more the worship of God
than other things; but it is, because they are possible ways of
expressing our dependence, our obedience and devotion to God.
Now if this be the reason of verbal praises and thanksgivings to
God, because we are to live unto God all possible ways, then it
plainly follows, that we are equally obliged to worship, and
glorify God in all other actions, that can be turned into acts of
piety and obedience to him. And as
significancy than words, it must be a much more acceptable
worship of God, to glorify him in all the actions of our common
life, than with any little form of words at any particular times.
Thus, If God is to be worshipped with forms of thanksgivings,
he that makes it a rule, to be content and thankful in every part
and accident of his life, because it comes from God, praises God
in a much higher manner, than he that has some set time for
singing of Psalms. He that dares not say an ill-natured word,
or do an unreasonable thing, because he considers God as every
where present, performs a better devotion, than he that dares
not miss the
pilgrim, using all its enjoyments as if we used them not, making
all our actions so many steps towards a better life, is offering a
better sacrifice to God, than any forms of holy and heavenly
prayers.
To be humble in all our actions, to avoid every appearance of
pride and vanity, to be meek and lowly in our words, actions,
dress, behaviour, and designs, in imitation of our blessed Saviour,
is worshipping God in a higher manner, than they who have only
times to fall low on their knees in devotions. He that contents
A Serious Call to
himself with necessaries, that he may give the remainder to those
that want it; that dares not to spend any money foolishly,
because he considers it as a talent from God, which must be
used according to his will, praises God with something that is
more glorious than songs of praise.
He that has appointed times for the use of wise and pious
prayers, performs a proper instance of devotion; but he that
allows himself no times, nor any places, nor any actions, but
such as are strictly comformable to
the divine
For who does not know, that it is better to be pure and holy,
than to talk about purity and holiness? Nay, who does not
know, that a man is to be reckoned no further pure, or holy, or
just, than as he is pure, and holy, and just in the common course
of his life? But if this be plain, then it is also plain, that it is
better to be holy, than to have holy prayers.
Prayers therefore are so far from being a sufficient devotion,
that they are the smallest parts of it. We are to praise God
with words and prayers, because it is a possible way of glorifying
God, who has given us such faculties, as may be so used. But
then as words are but small things in themselves, as times of
prayer are but little, if compared with the rest of our lives; so
that devotion which consists in times and forms of prayer, is but
a very small thing, if compared to that devotion which is to
appear in every other part and circumstance of our lives.
Again; as it is an easy thing to worship God with forms of
words, and to observe times of offering them unto him, so it is
the smallest kind of piety.
And, on the other hand, as it is more difficult to worship God
with our substance, to honour him with the right use of our
time, to offer to him the continual sacrifice of self-denial and
mortification; as it requires more piety to eat and drink only
for such ends as may glorify God, to undertake no labour, nor
allow of any diversion, but where we can act in the name of
God; as it is most difficult to sacrifice all our corrupt tempers,
correct all our
measure of all the actions of our common life: so the devotion
of this kind is a much more acceptable service unto God, than
those words of devotion which we offer to him either in the
Church, or in our
Every sober reader will easily perceive, that
to lessen the true and great value of Prayers, either public or
private; but only to show him, that they are certainly but a
very slender part of devotion, when compared to a devout life.
To see this in a yet clearer light, let us suppose a person to
a Devout and Holy Life.
have appointed times for praising God with Psalms and Hymns,
and to be strict in the observation of them; let it be supposed
also, that in his common life he is restless and uneasy, full of
murmurings and complaints at everything, never pleased but by
chance, as his temper happens to carry him, but murmuring and
repining at the very seasons, and having something to dislike in
everything that happens to him. Now can you conceive any
thing more absurd and unreasonable, than such a character as
this? Is such a one to be reckoned thankful to God, because
he has forms of praise which he offers to him? Nay, is it
not certain, that such forms of praise must be so far from being
an acceptable devotion to God, that they must be abhorred as
an abomination? Now the absurdity which you see in this
instance, is the same in any other part of our life; if our common life hath any contrariety to our prayers, it is the same abomina
Bended knees, whilst you are clothed with pride; heavenly
petitions, whilst you are hoarding up treasures upon earth; holy
devotions, whilst you live in the follies of the world; prayers of
meekness and
resentment; hours of prayer, whilst you give up days and years
to idle diversions, impertinent visits, and foolish pleasures; are
as absurd, unacceptable service to God, as forms of thanksgiving
from a person that lives in repinings and discontent.
So that unless the common course of our lives, be according
to the common spirit of our prayers, our prayers are so far from
being a real or sufficient degree of devotion, that they become
an empty lip-labour, or, what is worse, a notorious hypocrisy.
Seeing therefore we are to make the spirit and
As certain, therefore, as the same holiness of prayers requires
the same holiness of life, so certain is it, that all
called to the same holiness of life.
A soldier, or a tradesman, is not called to minister at the altar,
or preach the
much obliged to be devout, humble, holy, and heavenly-minded
in all the parts of his common life, as a clergyman is obliged to
be zealous, faithful, and laborious in all parts of his profession.
And all this for this one plain reason, because all people are
to pray for the same holiness,
to make themselves as fit as they can for the same heaven.
All men therefore, as men, have one and the same important
business, to act up to the excellency of their rational nature, and
to make reason and order the law of all their designs and actions.
All Christians, as Christians, have one and the same calling, to
live according to the excellency of the Christian spirit, and to
make the sublime precepts of the
of all their tempers in common life. The one thing needful to
one, is the one thing needful to all.
The merchant is no longer to hoard up treasures upon earth:
the soldier is no longer to fight for scholar is no
The fine lady must teach her eyes to weep, and be clothed
Young Ladies must either devote themselves to piety, prayer,
self-denial, and all good works, in a virgin-state of life; or else
marry to be holy, sober, and prudent in the care of a family,
abounding in all other good works, to the utmost of their state
and capacity. They have no choice of anything else, but must
devote themselves to God in one of these states. They may
choose a married, or a single life; but it is not left to their
choice, whether they will make either state, a state of holiness,
humility, devotion, and all other duties of the Christian life. It
is no more left in their power, because they have fortunes, or
are born of rich parents, to divide themselves betwixt God and
the world, or take such pleasures as their fortune will afford
them, than it is allowable for them to be sometimes chaste and
modest, and sometimes not.
They are not to consider, how much religion may secure them
a fair character, or how they may add devotion to an impertinent, vain, and
Young Gentlemen must consider, what our
said to the young Gentleman in the
that he had and give to the poor.’ Now though this
should not oblige all people to sell all; yet it certainly obliges
all kinds of people to employ all their estates, in such wise and
reasonable and charitable ways, as may sufficiently show, that
all that they have is devoted to God, and that no part of it is kept
from the poor, to be spent in needless, vain, and foolish expenses.
If, therefore, young Gentlemen propose to themselves a life of
pleasure and indulgence, if they spend their estates in high
living, in luxury and intemperance, in state and equipage, in
pleasures and diversions, in sports and gaming, and such like
wanton gratifications of their foolish
much reason to look upon themselves to be Angels, as to be
Let them be assured, that it is the one only business of
a Christian Gentleman, to distinguish himself by good works,
to be eminent in the most sublime
with the ignorance and weakness of the vulgar, to be a friend
and patron to all that dwell about him, to live in the utmost
heights of
course of his life a true religious
aspire after such a gentility, as they might have learnt from
seeing the blessed
man, but such as they might have got by living with the holy
Apostles. They must learn to love God with all their heart,
with all their soul, and with all their strength, and their neigh
bour as themselves; and then they have all the greatness and
distinction that they can have here, and are fit for an eternal
happiness in heaven hereafter.
Thus in all orders and conditions, either of men or women,
this is the one common holiness, which is to be the common life
of all
The Merchant is not to leave devotion to the Clergyman, nor
the Clergyman to leave humility to the labourer;
fortune are not to leave it to the poor of their sex, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, to adorn themselves in modest apparel, shamefacedness, and
The man of strength and power is to forgive and pray for his
A Serious Call to
enemies, and the innocent sufferer who is chained in prison,
must, with Paul and
For the
ternal form of worship to the several ways of life that are in the
world; and so to leave people to live as they did before, in such
tempers and enjoyments as the fashion and spirit of the world
approves. But as he came down from heaven, altogether divine
and heavenly in his own
to a divine and heavenly life; to the highest change of their
whole nature and temper; to be born again of the Holy Spirit;
to walk in the wisdom and light and love of God; and be like
him to the utmost of their power; to renounce all the most
plausible ways of the world, whether of greatness, business, or
pleasure; to a mortification of all their most agreeable
and to live in such wisdom, and purity, and holiness, as might
fit them to be glorious in the enjoyment of God to all eternity.
Whatever therefore is foolish, ridiculous, vain, or
For as sure as
as he came to make us like himself, and to be baptized into his
spirit, so sure it is, that none can be said to keep to their Chris
tian profession, but they who to the utmost of their power, live a
wise and holy and heavenly life. This and this alone is
tianity
wisdom in all our
temper of the
means of piety and devotion to God.
But now, if this devout state of heart, if these habits of
inward holiness be true Religion, then true Religion is equally
the duty and happiness of all orders of men; for there is nothing
to recommend it to one, that is not the same recommendation of
it to all states of people.
If it be the happiness and glory of a Bishop to live in this
devout spirit, full of these holy tempers, doing everything as
unto God, it is as much the glory and happiness of all men and
women, whether young or old, to live in the same spirit. And
whoever can find any reasons, why an ancient Bishop should be
a Devout and Holy Life.
intent upon divine things, turning all his life into the highest
exercises of piety, wisdom, and devotion, will find them so
many reasons, why he should to the utmost of his power, do the
same himself.
If you say that a Bishop must be an
Christian holiness, because of his high and sacred calling, you
say right. But if you say, that it is more to his advantage to be
exemplary, than it is yours, you greatly mistake. For there is
nothing to make the highest degrees of holiness desirable to a
Bishop, but what makes them equally desirable to every young person of every family.
For an exalted piety, high devotion, and the religious use of
everything, is as much the glory and happiness of one state
of life, as it is of another.
Do but fancy in your mind, what a spirit of piety you would
have in the best Bishop in the world, how you would have him
love God, how you would have him imitate the life of our
perhaps he will find more conviction from it, than he
Everyone can tell how good and pious he would have some
people to be; everyone knows, how wise and reasonable a thing
it is in a Bishop, to be entirely above the world, and be an
eminent example of Christian
of a wise and ancient Bishop, you fancy some exalted degree of
piety, a living example of all those holy tempers, which you find
described in the
Now if you ask yourself, what is the happiest thing for a
young Clergyman to do? You must be forced to answer, that
nothing can be so happy and glorious for him, as to be like that
excellent holy Bishop.
If you go on and ask, what is the happiest thing, for any
young Gentleman or his sisters to do? The answer must be the
same; that nothing can be so happy or glorious for them, as to
live in such habits of piety, in such exercises of a Divine life, as
this good old Bishop does. For everything that is great and
glorious in Religion, is as much the true glory of every man or
woman, as it is the glory of any Bishop. If high degrees of
Divine love, if fervent
affection, if constant mortification, if frequent devotion be the
best and happiest way of life for any Christian; it is so for
every Christian.
Consider again; if you were to see a Bishop in the whole
course of his life, living below his
the foolish tempers of the world, and governed by the same
cares and
you think of him. Would you think that he was only guilty of
a small mistake? No. You would condemn him, as erring in
that which is not only the most, but the only important matter
that relates to him. Stay a while in this consideration, till your
mind is fully convinced, how miserable a mistake it is in a
Bishop, to live a careless worldly life.
Whilst you are thinking in this manner, turn your thoughts
towards some of your acquaintance, your brother, or sister, or
any young person. Now if you see the common course of their
lives to be not according to the doctrines of the
see that their way of life, cannot be said to be a sincere en
deavour to enter in at the strait gate, you see something that
you are to condemn, in the same degree, and for the same
reasons. They do not commit a small mistake, but are wrong in
that which is their all, and mistake their true happiness, as much
as that Bishop does, who neglects the high duties of his calling.
Apply this reasoning to yourself; if you find yourself living an
idle, indulgent, vain life, choosing rather to gratify your
than to live up to the doctrines of Christianity, and practise the
plain precepts of our
and unreasonableness to charge upon yourself, that you can
charge upon any irregular Bishop.
For all the
heavenly tempers, are as much the sole rule of your life, as the
sole rule of the life of a Bishop. If you neglect these holy
tempers, if you do not eagerly aspire after them, if you do not
show yourself a visible example of them, you are as much fallen
from your true happiness, you are as great an enemy to yourself,
and have made as bad a choice, as that Bishop, that chooses
rather to enrich his family, than to be like an Apostle. For
SOME people will perhaps object, that all these
holy living unto God in all that we do, are too great a
restraint upon human life; that it will be made too
anxious a state, by thus introducing a regard to God
in all our actions. And that by depriving ourselves
of so many seemingly innocent pleasures, we shall render
our lives dull, uneasy, and melancholy. To which it may be
answered:
First, That these rules are prescribed for, and will certainly
procure a quite contrary end. That instead of making our lives
dull and melancholy, they will render them full of content and
strong satisfactions. That by these rules, we only change the
childish satisfactions of our vain and sickly
solid enjoyments, and real happiness of a sound mind.
Secondly, That as there is no foundation for comfort in the
enjoyments of this life, but in the assurance that a wise and
good God governeth the world, so the more we find out God in
everything, the more we apply to him in every place, the more
we look up to him in all our
his will, the more we act according to his
his goodness, by so much the more do we enjoy God, partake of
the divine happy
and comfortable in human life.
Thirdly, He that is endeavouring to subdue, and root out
of his mind all those pride, envy, and
For these passions are the causes of all the disquiets and
vexations of human life: they are the dropsies and fevers of
our
cravings after such things as we do not want, and spoiling our
Do but imagine that you somewhere or other saw a man, that
proposed reason as the rule of all his actions, that had no desires
Do but fancy a man living in this manner, and your own
conscience will immediately tell you, that he is the happiest
man in the world, and that it is not in the power of the richest
And on the other hand, if you suppose him to be in any
degree less perfect; if you suppose him but subject to one foolish
you, that he so far lessens his own happiness, and robs himself
of the true enjoyment of his other virtues. So true is it, that
the more we live by the rules of religion, the more peaceful and
happy do we render our lives.
Again, as it thus appears, that real happiness is only to be
had from the greatest degrees of piety, the greatest denials of our
passions, and the strictest rules of religion, so the same truth
will appear from a consideration of human misery. If we look
into the world, and view the disquiets and troubles of human
life, we shall find that they are all owing to our violent and
irreligious passions.
Now all trouble and uneasiness is founded in the want of
something or other; would we therefore know the true cause of
our troubles and disquiets, we must find out the cause of our
wants; because that which creates, and increaseth our wants,
does in the same degree create, and increase our trouble and
disquiets.
God Almighty has sent us into the world with very few wants;
meat, and drink, and clothing, are the only things necessary in
life; and as these are only our present needs, so the present
world is well furnished to supply these needs.
If a man had half the world in his power, he can make no
more of it than this; as he wants it only to support an animal
any other
This is the state of man, born with few wants, and into a
large world, very capable of supplying them. So that one
would reasonably suppose, that men should pass their lives in
content and thankfulness to God, at least, that they should be
free from violent disquiets and vexations, as being placed in a
world, that has more than enough to relieve all their wants.
But if to all this we add, that this short life, thus furnished
with all that we want in it, is only a short passage to eternal
glory, where we shall be clothed with the brightness of
and enter into the joys of God, we might still more reasonably
expect, that human life should be a state of peace, and joy, and
delight in God. Thus it would certainly be, if
full power over us.
But, alas! though God, and
life thus free from wants, and so full of happiness, yet our
passions, in rebellion against God, against nature and reason,
create a new world of evils, and fill human life with imaginary
wants, and vain disquiets.
The man of pride has a thousand wants, which only his own
pride has created; and these render him as full of trouble, as if
God had created him with a thousand appetites, without creating
Let but any complaining, disquieted man, tell you the ground
of his uneasiness, and you will plainly see, that he is the author
of his own torment; that he is vexing himself at some imaginary
evil, which will cease to torment him, as soon as he is content
to be that which God, and
be.
If you should see a man passing his days in disquiet, because
he could not walk upon the water, or catch birds as they fly by
him, you would readily confess, that such a one might thank
himself for such uneasiness. But now if you look into all the
most tormenting disquiets of life, you will find them all thus
absurd; where people are only tormented by their own folly,
and vexing themselves at such things, as no more concern them,
nor are any more their proper good, than walking upon the
water, or catching birds.
What can you conceive more silly and extravagant, than to
suppose a man racking his brains, and studying night and day
how to fly? wandering from his own house and home, wearying
himself with climbing upon every ascent, cringing and courting
everybody he meets, to lift him from the ground, bruising him
self with continual falls, and at last breaking his neck? And
all this, from an glorious to have
the eyes of people gazing up at him, and mighty happy to eat,
and drink, and sleep, at the top of the highest trees in the king
dom. Would you not readily own, that such a one was only
disquieted by his own folly?
If you ask, what it signifies to suppose such silly creatures as
these, as are nowhere to be found in human life?
It may be answered, that wherever you see an ambitious man,
there you see this vain and senseless flyer.
Again, if you should see a man that had a large pond of water,
yet living in continual thirst, not suffering himself to drink half a draught, for fear of lessening his pond; if you should see him
I could now easily proceed, to show the same effects of all our
other
vexations, and complaints, are entirely of our own making, and
that in the same absurd manner, as in these instances of the
covetous and ambitious man. Look where you will, you will see
all worldly vexations, but like the vexation of him, who was
always in mire and mud in search of water to drink, when he had
more at home, than was sufficient for an hundred horses.
Cœlia is always telling you, how provoked she is, what intolerable shocking things happen to her, what
This is the disquiet life of Cœlia, who has nothing to torment
her but her own spirit.
If you could inspire her with Christian humility, you need do
no more to make her as happy, as any person in the world.
This
health as she has had, and help her to enjoy more for the time
to come. This virtue would keep off tremblings of the spirits,
and loss of appetite, and her blood would need nothing else to
sweeten it.
I have just touched upon these absurd
end, but to convince you in the plainest manner, that the strictest rules of religion, are so far from rendering a life
For all the wants which disturb human life, which make us
uneasy to ourselves, quarrelsome with others, and unthankful to
God; which weary us in vain labours and foolish anxieties;
which carry us from project to project, from place to place, in a
poor pursuit of we know not what, are the wants which neither
God, nor
infused into us by pride,
So far therefore, as you reduce your
nature and reason require; so far as you regulate all the
of your heart by the strict rules of religion, so far you remove
yourself from that infinity of wants and vexations, which tor
ment every heart that is left to itself.
Most people indeed confess, that religion preserves us from a
great many evils, and helps us in many respects to a more
happy enjoyment of ourselves; but then they imagine, that
this is only true of such a moderate share of religion, as only
gently restrains us from the excesses of our passions. They
suppose, that the strict rules and restraints of an exalted piety,
Although the weakness of this objection, sufficiently appears
from what hath been already said, yet I shall add one more
word to it.
This objection supposes, that religion moderately practised,
A Serious Call to
adds much to the happiness of life; but that such heights of
piety as the
effect.
It supposes therefore, that it is happy to be kept from the
excesses of envy, but unhappy to be kept from other degrees of
envy. That it is happy to be delivered from a boundless ambi
tion, but unhappy to be without a more moderate ambition. It
supposes also, that the mixture of
envy, heavenly affection and covetousness. All which is as
absurd, as to suppose that it is happy to be free from excessive
the happiness of health consisted, in being partly sick, and
partly well.
For if humility be the peace and rest of the
has so much happiness from humility, as he who is the most
humble. If excessive
perfectly delivers himself from torment, who most perfectly
extinguishes every spark of envy. If there is any peace and
joy, in doing any action according to the will of God, he who
brings the most of his
increase the peace and joy of his life.
And thus it is in every virtue; if you act up to every degree
of it, the more happiness you have from it. And so of every
vice; if you only abate its excesses, you do but little for your
self; but if you reject it in all degrees, then you feel the true
ease and joy of a reformed mind.
As for example: If religion only restrains the excesses of
revenge, but lets the spirit still live within you, in lesser in
stances, your religion may have made your life a little more
outwardly decent, but not made you at all happier, or easier in
yourself. But if you have once sacrificed all thoughts of revenge,
in obedience to God, and are resolved to return good for
all times, that you may render yourself more like to God, and
fitter for his mercy in the kingdom of love and glory; this is a
height of virtue, that will make you feel its happiness.
Secondly, As to those satisfactions and enjoyments, which an
no real comfort of life.
For, 1st, Piety requires us to renounce no ways of life, where
we can act reasonably, and offer what we do to the glory of God.
All ways of life, all satisfactions and enjoyments, that are within
these bounds, are no way denied us by the strictest rules of
piety. Whatever you can do, or enjoy, as in the presence of
a Devout and Holy Life.
God, as his servant, as his rational creature, that has received
formably to a rational nature, and the will of God, all this is
allowed by the laws of piety. And will you think that your life
will be uncomfortable, unless you may displease God, be a fool,
and mad, and act contrary to that reason and
has implanted in you?
And as for those satisfactions, which we dare not offer to a
holy God, which are only invented by the folly and corruption
of the world, which inflame our passions, and sink our souls into
grossness and
able state of life, to be rescued by religion from such self-murder,
and to be rendered capable of eternal happiness.
Let us suppose a person, destitute of that knowledge which
we have from our senses, placed somewhere alone by himself,
in the midst of a variety of things which he did not know how
to use; that he has by him bread, wine, water, golden dust, iron, chains, gravel, garments, fire, &c. Let it be supposed, that he
Now could you with any reason affirm, that those strict
of using those things that were about him, had rendered that
poor man’s life dull and uncomfortable?
Now this is in some measure, a representation of the strict rules of religion; they only relieve our ignorance, save us from
ignorance makes him use many of them as absurdly, as the man
A Serious Call to
who puts dust in his eyes to relieve his thirst, or put on chains to
remove pain.
Religion therefore here comes into his relief, and gives him
strict rules of using everything that is about him; that by so
using them suitably to his own
things, he may have always the pleasure of receiving a right
benefit from them. It shows him what is strictly right in meat,
and drink, and clothes; and that he has nothing else to expect
from the things of this world, but to satisfy such wants of his
own; and then to extend his assistance to all his brethren, that
as far as he is able, he may help all his fellow-creatures, to the
same benefit from the world that he hath.
It tells him, that this world is incapable of giving him any
other happiness, and that all endeavours to be happy in heaps
of money, or acres of land, in fine clothes, rich beds, stately
equipage, and show and splendour, are only vain endeavours,
ignorant attempts after impossibilities; these things being no
more able to give the least degree of dust in
the eyes can cure thirst, or gravel in the mouth satisfy hunger;
but like dust and gravel misapplied, will only serve to render
him more unhappy by such an ignorant misuse of them.
It tells him, that although this world can do no more for him,
than satisfy these wants of the
greater good prepared for man, than eating, drinking, and dress
ing; that it is yet invisible to his eyes, being too glorious for
the apprehension of flesh and blood; but reserved for him to
enter upon, as soon as this short life is over; where, in a new
body, formed to an
and glory of God to all eternity.
It tells him, that this state of glory will be given to all those,
who make a right use of the things of this present world; who
do not blind themselves with golden dust, or eat gravel, or groan
under loads of iron of their own putting on; but use bread, water, wine, and
Now can anyone say, that the strictest rules of such a religion
as this, debar us of any of the comforts of life? Might it not
as justly be said of those
choking himself with gravel? For the strictness of these rules,
only consists in the exactness of their rectitude.
Who would complain of the severe strictness of a law, that
without any exception forbade the putting of dust into our
eyes? Who could think it too rigid, that there were no abate-
a Devout and Holy Life.
ments? Now this is the strictness of religion, it requires nothing
of us strictly, or without abatements, but where every degree
of the thing is wrong, where every indulgence does us some
hurt.
If religion forbids all instances of revenge without any excep
tion, it is because all revenge is of the nature of poison; and
though we do not take so much as to put an end to life, yet if
we take any at all, it corrupts the whole mass of blood, and
makes it difficult to be restored to our former health.
If religion commands an universal charity, to love our neigh
bour as ourselves, to forgive and pray for all our enemies with
out any reserve; it is because all degrees of love are degrees of
happiness, that strengthen and support the divine life of the
food is necessary to the health and happiness of the
If religion has laws against laying up treasures upon earth,
and commands us to be content with food and raiment; it is
because every other use of the world, is abusing it to our own
vexation, and turning all its conveniences into snares and traps
to destroy us. It is because this plainness and simplicity of life,
secures us from the cares and pains of restless pride and
and makes it easier to keep that straight road, that will carry us
to eternal life.
If religion saith, ‘Sell that thou hast, and give to the poor,’
it is because there is no other natural or reasonable use of our
riches, no other way of making ourselves happier for them; it is
because it is as strictly right to give others that which we do not
want ourselves, as it is right to use so much as our own wants
require. For if a man has more food than his own nature requires,
how base and unreasonable is it, to invent foolish ways of wasting
it, and make sport for his own full belly, rather than let his
fellow-creatures have the same comfort from food, which he hath
had? It is so far therefore from being a hard law of religion, to
make this use of our riches, that a reasonable man would rejoice
in that religion, which teaches him to be happier in that which
he gives away, than in that which he keeps for himself; which
teaches him to make spare food and raiment be greater blessings
to him, than that which feeds and clothes his own body.
If religion requires us sometimes to fast, and deny our natural
appetites, it is to lessen that struggle and war that is in our
nature, it is to render our bodies fitter instruments of purity, and
more obedient to the good
up the springs of our
the flame of our blood, and render the mind more capable of
divine meditations. So that although these abstinences give
A Serious Call to
some pain to the body, yet they so lessen the power of bodily
that even these severities of religion, when practised with discre
tion, add much to the comfortable enjoyment of our lives.
If religion calleth us to a life of watching and prayer, it is be
cause we live amongst a crowd of enemies, and are always in
need of the assistance of God. If we are to confess and bewail
our
restore it to ease; as burdens and weights taken off the shoulders,
relieve the
frequent and fervent in holy petitions, it is to keep us steady in
the sight of our true good, and that we may never want the hap
piness of a lively
God. If we are to pray often, it is that we may be often happy
in such secret joys as only prayer can give; in such communica
tions of the divine presence, as will fill our minds with all the
happiness, that beings not in heaven are capable of.
Was there anything in the world more worth our care, was
there any exercise of the mind, or any conversation with men,
that turned more to our advantage than this intercourse with God,
we should not be called to such a continuance in prayer. But if
a man considers what it is that he leaves when he retires to devo
tion, he will find it no small happiness, to be so often relieved
from doing nothing, or nothing to the purpose; from dull idleness,
unprofitable labour, or vain conversation. If he considers, that
all that is in the world, and all that is doing in it, is only for the
those hours of prayer, which carry him to higher consolations,
which raise him above these poor concerns, which open to his
mind a scene of greater things, and accustom his soul to the hope
and expectation of them.
If religion commands us to live wholly unto God, and to do all
to his glory, it is because every other way, is living wholly against
ourselves, and will end in our own shame and confusion of face.
As everything is dark, that God does not enlighten; as every
thing is senseless, that has not its share of
as nothing lives, but by partaking of life from him; as nothing
exists, but because he commands it to be; so there is no glory, or
greatness, but what is the glory or greatness of God.
We indeed may talk of human glory, as we may talk of
This is the state of all creatures, whether men, or a Devout and Holy Life.
they make not themselves, so they enjoy nothing from themselves,
if they are great, it must be only as great receivers of the gifts of
God; their power can only be so much of the divine power acting
in them; their wisdom can be only so much of the divine
shining within them; and their light and glory, only so much of
the light and glory of God shining upon them.
As they are not men or Angels, because they had a mind to be
so themselves, but because the will of God formed them to be
what they are; so they cannot enjoy this or that
or angels, because they have a mind to it, but because it is the
will of God, that such things be the happiness of men, and such
things the happiness of angels. But now if God be thus all in
all; if his will is thus the measure of all things, and all
if nothing can be done, but by his power; if nothing can be seen
but by a light from him; if we have nothing to fear, but from his
justice; if we have nothing to hope for, but from his goodness;
if this is the nature of man, thus helpless in himself; if this is the
state of all creatures, as well those in heaven, as those on earth;
if they are nothing, can do nothing, can suffer no pain, nor feel
any happiness, but so far, and in such degrees, as the power of
God does all this; if this be the state of things, then how can we
have the least glimpse of joy or comfort, how can we have any
peaceful enjoyment of ourselves, but by living wholly unto that
God, using and doing everything conformably to his will? A
life thus devoted unto God, looking wholly unto him in all our
being dull, and uncomfortable, that it creates new comforts in
everything that we do.
On the contrary, would you see how happy they are who live
according to their own wills, who cannot submit to the dull and
melancholy business of a life devoted unto God; look at the man
He could not bear the thoughts of using his talent, according
to the will of him from whom he had it, and therefore he chose
to make himself happier in a way of his own. ‘Lord,’ says he,
‘I knew thee, that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou
hadst not sown, and gathering where thou hadst not strawed.
And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent, in the earth. Lo
there thou hast that is thine.’
His Lord having convicted him out of his own mouth, de
spatches him with this sentence, ‘Cast the unprofitable servant
into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of
teeth.’*
* Matt. xxv. 24.
Here you see how happy this man made himself, by not acting
wholly according to his Lord’s will. It was, according to his
own account, a happiness of murmuring and discontent; I knew
thee, says he, that thou wast an hard man: It was an happiness
of fears and
Now this is the happiness of all those, who look upon a strict
and
and melancholy state of life.
They may live awhile free from the restraints and directions of
Religion, but instead thereof, they must be under the absurd
government of their
parable, live in murmurings, and discontents, in fears, and apprehensions. They may avoid the labour of doing good, of spending
This is the purchase that they make, who avoid the strictness
and
On the other hand, would you see a short description of the
happiness of a life rightly employed, wholly devoted to God,
you must look at the man in the parable, to whom his Lord had
given five talents. ‘Lord,’ says he, ‘thou deliveredst unto me
five talents; behold I have gained besides them five talents
more. His Lord said unto him, well done thou good and
faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I
will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy
of thy Lord.’
Here you see a life that is wholly intent upon the improve
ment of the talents, that is devoted wholly unto God, is a state
of happiness, prosperous labours, and glorious success. Here
are not, as in the former case, any uneasy passions, murmurings, vain fears, and
Now as the case of these men in the parable, left nothing else
to their choice, but either to be happy in using their gifts to the
glory of the Lord, or miserable by using them according to their
own humours and fancies; so the state of
no other choice.
All that we have, all that we are, all that we enjoy, are only
so many talents from God: if we use them to the ends of a
pious and holy life, our five talents will become ten, and our
labours will carry us into the joy of our Lord; but if we abuse
them to the gratification of our own passions, sacrificing the
gifts of God to our own pride and vanity, we shall live here
in vain labours and foolish anxieties, shunning Religion as a
fall into everlasting misery.
We may for a while amuse ourselves with names, and sounds,
and shadows of happiness; we may talk of this or that greatness
and dignity; but if we desire real
possible way to it, but by improving our talents, by so holily
and piously using the powers and faculties of men in this present
state, that we may be happy and glorious in the powers and
faculties of angels in the world to come.
How ignorant therefore are they, of the nature of Religion, of
the nature of man, and the nature of God, who think a life of
strict piety and devotion to God, to be a dull uncomfortable state;
when it is so plain and certain, that there is neither comfort or
joy to be found in anything else?
WE may still see more of the happiness of a life de
voted unto God, by considering the poor con
trivances for happiness, and the contemptible ways
of life, which they are thrown into, who are not
under the directions of a strict piety, but seeking
after happiness by other methods.
If one looks at their lives, who live by no rule but their own
humours and fancies; if one sees but what it is, which they call
joy, and greatness, and happiness; if one sees how they rejoice,
and repent, change and fly from one
shall find great reason to rejoice, that God hath appointed a
strait and narrow way, that leadeth unto life, and that we are
not left to the folly of our own
such shadows of joys and happiness, as the weakness and folly
of the world has invented. invented, because those things
which make up the joy and happiness of the world are mere
inventions, which have no foundation in
no way the proper good or happiness of man, no way perfect
either in his end.
As for instance, when a man proposes to be happy in ways of
ambition, by raising himself to some imaginary heights above
If a woman seeks for happiness from fine colours or spots upon
her face, from jewels and rich clothes, this is as merely an invention of happiness, as contrary to
And it is on these inventions of happiness, that
cast your eye, that you may thence learn, how great a good
Religion is, which delivers you from such a multitude of follies,
and vain pursuits, as are the torment and vexation of
that wander from their true happiness in God.
Look at Flatus, and learn how miserable they are, who are
left to the folly of their own passions.
Flatus is rich and in health, yet always uneasy, and always
searching after happiness. Every time you visit him, you find
some new project in his head, he is eager upon it as something
that is more worth his while, and will do more for him than
anything that is already past. Every new thing so seizes him,
that if you were to take him from it, he would think himself
quite undone. His sanguine temper, and strong passions, pro
mise him so much happiness in everything, that he is always
cheated, and is satisfied with nothing.
At his first setting out in life, fine clothes were his delight, his
inquiry was only after the best Tailors and Peruke-makers, and
he had no thoughts of excelling in anything but dress. He
spared no expense, but carried every nicety to its greatest
height. But this happiness not answering his expectations, he
left off his Brocades, put on a plain coat, railed at fops and
beaux, and gave himself up to gaming with great eagerness.
This new pleasure satisfied him for some time, he envied no
other way of life. But being by the fate of play drawn into a
duel, where he narrowly escaped his death, he left off the dice,
and sought for happiness no longer amongst the gamesters.
The next thing that seized his wandering
the diversions of the town: and for more than a twelvemonth,
you heard him talk of nothing but Ladies, Drawing-rooms,
Birth-nights, Plays, Balls, and
The next attempt after field,
for two or three years, nothing was so happy as hunting; he
entered upon it with all his soul, and leaped more hedges and
A Serious Call to
ditches than had ever been known in so short a time. You never
saw him but in a green coat; he was the envy of all that blow
the horn, and always spoke to his dogs in great propriety of
language. If you met him at home on a bad day, you would
hear him blow his horn, and be entertained with the surprising
accidents of the last noble chase. No sooner had Flatus outdone
all the world in the breed and education of his dogs, built new
kennels, new stables, and bought a new hunting-seat, but he im
mediately got sight of another happiness, hated the senseless
noise and hurry of hunting, gave away his dogs, and was for
some time after deep in the pleasures of building.
Now he invents new kinds of dove-cotes, and has such con
trivances in his barns and stables, as were never seen before: He
wonders at the dulness of the old builders, is wholly bent upon
the improvement of Architecture, and will hardly hang a door in
the ordinary way. He tells his friends, that he never was so
delighted in anything in his life; that he has more happiness
amongst his brick and mortar, than ever he had at court; and
The next year he leaves his house unfinished, complains to
everybody of Masons and Carpenters, and devotes himself wholly
to the happiness of riding about. After this, you can never see
him but on horseback, and so highly delighted with this new way
of life, that he would tell you, give him but his horse and a clean country to ride in, and you might take all the rest to yourself. A
After this he was a great student for one whole year; he was
up early and late at his Italian grammar, that he might have the
Flatus is very ill-natured, or otherwise, just as his affairs
happen to be when you visit him; if you find him when some
project is almost worn out, you will find a peevish ill-bred man;
but if you had seen him just as he entered upon his riding regimen, or begun to excel in sounding of the horn, you had
Flatus is now at a full stand, and is doing what he never did
in his life before, he is reasoning and reflecting with himself. He
loses several days, in considering which of his cast-off ways of life
he should try again.
But here a new project comes in to his relief. He is now
living upon herbs. and running about the country, to get himself
into as good wind as any running-footman in the kingdom.
of this kind of life, because I hope, that every particular folly
that you here see, will naturally turn itself into an argument, for
the wisdom and happiness of a religious life.
If I could lay before you a particular account of all the
circumstances of terror and distress, that daily attend a life at sea,
the more particular I was in the account, the more I should make
you feel and rejoice in the happiness of living upon the land.
In like manner, the more I enumerate the follies, anxieties, delusions, and restless
If you but just cast your eye upon a madman, or a fool, it
perhaps signifies little or nothing to you; but if you were to
attend them for some days, and observe the lamentable madness
and stupidity of all their actions, this would be an
and would make you often bless yourself for the enjoyment of
your
Just so, if you are only told in the gross, of the folly and
madness of a life devoted to the world, it makes little or no
impression upon you; but if you are shown how such people live
every day; if you see the continual folly and madness of all
their particular
sight, and make you bless God, for having given you a greater
happiness to aspire after.
So that characters of this kind, the more folly and
they have in them, provided that they be but natural, are most
useful to correct our minds; and therefore are nowhere more
proper than in books of devotion, and practical piety. And as
in several cases, we best learn the
at that which is contrary to them; so perhaps we best apprehend
the excellency of wild extravagances of folly.
endeavour to recommend the happiness of piety to you; by
showing you in some other instances, how miserably and poorly
they live, who live without it.
But you will perhaps say, that the ridiculous, restless life of
Flatus, is not the common state of those who resign themselves
up to live by their own humours, and neglect the strict rules of
religion; and that therefore it is not so great an argument of the
happiness of a religious life, as
I answer, that I am afraid it is one of the most general characters in life; and that few people can read it, without
And if people were to divide their lives into particular stages,
and ask themselves what they were pursuing, or what it was
which they had chiefly in view, when they were twenty years old,
what at twenty-five, what at thirty, what at forty, what at fifty,
and so on, till they were brought to their last bed; numbers of
people would find, that they had liked, and disliked, and pursued
as many different appearances of happiness, as are to be seen in
the life of Flatus.
And thus it must necessarily be, more or less, with all those
who propose any other
strict and regular piety.
But Secondly, let it be granted, that the generality of people are
not of such restless, fickle tempers as Flatus; the difference then
is only this, Flatus is continually changing and trying something
new, but others are content with some one state; they do not
leave gaming, and then fall to hunting. But they have so much
steadiness in their tempers, that some seek after no other happi
ness, but that of heaping up riches; others grow old in the
sports of the field; others are content to drink themselves to
death, without the least inquiry after any other happiness.
Now is there anything more happy, or reasonable, in such a life
Shall religion be looked upon as a burden, as a dull and
happiness as this, to
live according to the laws of God, to labour after the
of their
joy and glory in the presence of God?
But turn your eyes now another way, and let the trifling joys,
the gewgaw-happiness of Feliciana, teach you how wise they are,
what
upon an happiness in God.
If you were to live with Feliciana but one half year, you would
see all the happiness that she is to have as long as she lives. She
has no more to come, but the poor repetition of that which could
never have pleased once, but through a littleness of
want of thought.
She is to be again dressed fine, and keep her visiting day.
She is again to change the colour of her clothes, again to have a
new head, and again put patches on her face. She is again to see
who acts best at the playhouse, and who sings finest at the opera.
She is again to make ten visits in a day, and be ten times in a
day trying to talk artfully, easily, and politely about nothing.
She is to be again delighted with some new fashion; and
again angry at the change of some old one. She is to be again
at cards, and gaming at midnight, and again in bed at noon.
She is to be again pleased with hypocritical compliments, and
again disturbed at imaginary affronts. She is to be again
pleased with her good luck at gaming, and again tormented
with the loss of her money. She is again to prepare herself for
a birth-night; and again see the town full of good
She is again to hear the cabals and intrigues of the town; again
to have secret intelligence of private amours, and early notice of
marriages, quarrels, and partings.
If you see her come out of her chariot more briskly than usual,
converse with more
week, it is because there is some surprising new dress, or new
diversion just come to town.
These are all the substantial and regular parts of Feliciana’s
happiness; and she never knew a pleasant day in her life, but it
was owing to some one, or more, of these things.
It is for this happiness, that she has always been deaf to the
reasonings of religion, that her heart has been too gay and
cheerful to consider what is right or wrong in regard to eternity;
or to listen to the sound of such dull words, as wisdom, piety,
and devotion.
It is for
not meditate on the
to God, or turn her thoughts towards those joys, which make
Saints and
God.
But now let it be here observed, that as poor a round of happi
ness as this appears, yet most
religion for a gay life, must be content with very small parts of
it. As they have not Feliciana’s fortune and figure in the world,
so they must give away the comforts of a pious life, for a very
small part of her happiness.
And if you look into the world, and observe the lives of those
women, whom no arguments can persuade to live wholly unto
God, in a wise and pious employment of themselves, you will
find most of them to be such, as lose all the comforts of religion,
without gaining the tenth part of Feliciana’s happiness. They
are such as spend their time and fortunes, only in mimicking
the pleasures of richer people; and rather look and long after,
than enjoy those
considerable fortunes.
But if a woman of high birth, and great fortune, having read
the under servant in some
pious family, where
all the
than to live at the top of Feliciana’s happiness; I should
think her neither mad, nor melancholy; but that she judged
But to proceed: Would you know what an happiness it is, to
be governed by the wisdom of religion, and to be devoted to the
joys and hopes of a pious life, look at the poor condition of
Succus, whose greatest good night’s rest in bed, and
a good meal when he is up. When he talks of happiness, it is
always in such expressions, as show you, that he has only his
bed and his dinner in his thoughts.
This regard to his meals and repose, makes Succus order all the
rest of his time with relation to them. He will undertake no
business that may hurry his spirits, or break in upon his hours of
eating and rest. If he reads, it shall only be for half an hour,
because that is sufficient to amuse the spirits; and he will read
something that may make him laugh, as rendering the
fitter for its food and rest. Or if he has at any time a mind to
indulge a grave thought, he always has recourse to a useful
treatise upon the ancient cookery. Succus is an enemy to all
He talks coolly and moderately upon all subjects, and is as
fearful of falling into a
positive, that they are both equally injurious to the stomach. If
ever you see him more hot than ordinary, it is upon some pro
voking occasion, when the dispute about cookery runs very high,
or in the defence of some beloved dish, which has often made
him happy. But he has been so long upon these
well acquainted with all that can be said on both sides, and has
a Devout and Holy Life.
so often answered all objections, that he generally decides the
matter with great gravity.
Succus is very loyal, and as soon as ever he likes any wine, he
drinks the king’s health with all his heart. Nothing could put
rebellious thoughts into his head, unless he should live to see a
Proclamation against eating of Pheasants’ eggs.
All the hours that are not devoted either to repose, or nourishment, are looked upon by
The next waste-time that lays upon his hands, is from dinner
to supper. And if melancholy thoughts ever come into his head,
it is at this time, when he is often left to himself for an hour or
more, and that after the greatest pleasure he knows is just over.
He is afraid to sleep, because he has heard, it is not healthful at
that time, so that he is forced to refuse so welcome a guest.
But here he is soon relieved, by a settled method of playing
at cards, till it is time to think of some little nice matter for
supper.
After this, Succus takes his glass, talks of the excellency of the
English constitution, and praises that Minister the most, who keeps
the best table.
On a Sunday night you may sometimes hear him condemning
the iniquity of the town-rakes; and the bitterest thing that he
says against them, is this, that he verily believes, some of them
are so abandoned, as not to have a regular meal, or a sound night’s sleep in a week.
At eleven, Succus bids all good night, and parts in great
ship
the coffee-house next morning.
If you were to live with Succus for a twelvemonth, this is all
that you would see in his life, except a few curses and oaths that
he uses as occasion offers.
And now
That as I believe the most likely means in the world, to inspire
a person with true piety, was to have seen the example of some
eminent professor of Religion; so the next thing that is likely
to fill one with the same zeal, is to see the folly, the baseness,
A Serious Call to
and poor satisfactions of a life destitute of Religion. As the
one excites us to love and
of Religion, so the other may make us fearful of living without it.
For who can help blessing God for the means of grace, and for
So that whether we consider the greatness of Religion, or the
littleness of all other things, and the meanness of all other enjoy
ments, there is nothing to be found in the whole nature of things,
for a thoughtful mind to rest upon, but a happiness in the hopes
of Religion.
Consider now with yourself, how unreasonably it is pretended,
that a life of strict piety must be a dull and anxious state? For
can it with any reason be said, that the duties and restraints of
Religion must render our lives heavy and
only deprive us of such happiness, as has been here laid before
you?
Must it be tedious and tiresome, to live in the continual
exercise of
virtuously, to do good to the utmost of your power, to
the divine
God? Must it be dull and tiresome, to be delivered from
blindness and vanity, from false hopes, and vain
improve in holiness, to feel the comforts of conscience in all
your actions, to know that God is your friend, that all must
work for your good, that neither life nor death, neither men nor
devils can do you any harm; but that all your sufferings and
doings, that are offered unto God, all your watchings and
prayers, and labours of
are in a short time to be rewarded with everlasting glory in the
presence of God; must such a state as this be dull and tiresome,
for want of such happiness, as Flatus, or Feliciana enjoys?
Now if this cannot be said, then there is no happiness or
pleasure lost, by being strictly pious, nor has the devout man
anything to envy in any other state of life. For all the
contrivance in the world, without Religion, cannot make more of
human life, or carry its happiness to any greater height, than
Flatus and Feliciana have done.
The finest wit, the greatest
If you were to see a man duly endeavouring all his life to
satisfy his thirst, by holding up one and the same empty cup to
his mouth, you would certainly despise his ignorance.
But if you should see others of brighter parts, and finer under
ridiculing the dull satisfaction of
Now this is all the difference that you can see in the happiness
of this life.
The dull and heavy soul, may be content with one empty appearance of happiness, and be continually trying to hold
So that if you do not think it hard to be deprived of the
pleasures of gluttony for the sake of Religion, you have no reason
to think it hard to be restrained from any other worldly pleasure.
For search as deep, and look as far as you will, there is nothing
here to be found, that is nobler, or greater, than high eating and
drinking, unless you look for it in the
Religion.
And if all that is in the world, are only so many empty cups,
what does it signify, which you take, or how many you take, or
how many you have?
If you would but use yourself to such meditations as these, to
reflect upon the vanity of all orders of life without piety, to
consider how all the ways of the world, are only so many
different ways of error, blindness, and mistake; you would soon
find your heart made wiser and better by it. These meditations
would awaken your soul into a zealous
happiness, which is only to be found in recourse to God.
Examples of great piety are not now common in the world, it
may not be your happiness to live within sight of any, or to have
your
and folly of worldly men, is what meets your eyes in every place,
and you need not look far to see, how poorly, how vainly men
dream away their lives, for want of religious wisdom.
This is the reason, that
characters of the vanity of a worldly life, to teach you to make a
benefit of the corruption of the age, and that you may be made
A Serious Call to
wise, though not by the sight of what piety is, yet by seeing
what misery and folly reigns, where piety is not.
If you would turn your mind to such reflections as these, your
own observation would carry this instruction much further, and
all your conversation and acquaintance with the world, would be
a daily conviction to you of the necessity of seeking some
greater happiness, than all the poor enjoyments of this world
can give.
To meditate upon the
contemplate the glories of Heaven, to consider the joys of Saints
and
divine presence; these are the meditations of souls advanced in
piety, and not so suited to every capacity.
But to see and consider the emptiness and error of all worldly
happiness; to see the grossness of sensuality, the poorness of
pride, the stupidity of covetousness, the vanity of dress, the
delusion of
This is that ‘wisdom that crieth, and putteth forth her voice’*
in the streets, that standeth at all our doors, that appealeth to all
our senses, teaching us in everything, and everywhere, by all
that we see, and all that we hear, by births and burials, by sick
ness and health, by life and death, by pains and poverty, by
misery and vanity, and by all the changes and chances of life,
that there is nothing else for man to look after, no other end in
found in the hopes and expectations of Religion.
*
IT is a very remarkable saying of our Lord and
his disciples, in these
they see, and your ears, for they hear.’ They teach us
two things: First, That the dulness and heaviness of men’s
may justly be compared to the want of eyes and ears.
Secondly, that God has so filled every thing, and every place,
with motives and arguments for a godly life, that they who are
but so blessed, so happy as to use their eyes and their ears, must
needs be affected with them.
Now though this was in a more especial manner, the case of
those whose senses were witnesses of the life and
doctrines of our
themselves so strongly, and so constantly to all our senses in
everything that we meet, that they can only be disregarded by
eyes that see not, and ears that hear not.
What greater motive to a religious life, than the vanity, the
poorness of all worldly enjoyments? And yet who can help
seeing and feeling this every day of his life?
What greater call to look towards God, than the pains, the
sickness, the crosses, and vexations of this life; and yet whose
eyes and ears are not daily witnesses of them?
What miracles could more strongly
what message from heaven speak louder to us, than the daily dying and departure of our fellow-creatures?
So that the one thing needful, or the great end of
left to be discovered by fine reasoning and deep reflections; but
is pressed upon us in the plainest manner, by the
all our senses, by everything that we meet with in life.
Let us but intend to see and hear, and then the whole world
becomes a book of
regular in the accidental in the course
of things, all the mistakes and disappointments that happen to
ourselves, all the miseries and errors that we see in other
people; become so many plain lessons of advice to us; teaching
us with as much assurance as an
can no ways raise ourselves to any true
turning all our thoughts, our wishes, and endeavours, after the
happiness of another life.
It is this right use of the world, that
directing you to turn your eyes upon every shape of human folly,
that you may thence draw fresh arguments and motives, of
living to the best and greatest purposes of your creation.
And if you would but carry this intention about you, of pro
fiting by the follies of the world, and of learning the greatness of
Religion, from the littleness and vanity of every other way of
life; if,
you would find, every day, every place, and every person, a fresh
proof of their wisdom, who choose to live wholly unto God.
You would then often return home, the wiser, the better, and
the more strengthened in Religion, by everything that has fallen
in your way.
Octavius is a learned, ingenious man, well versed in most parts
of Europe. The
other day, being just recovered from a lingering fever, he took
upon him to talk thus to his friends.
My glass, says he, is almost run out; and your eyes see how
many age and
The attention of his friends was much raised by such a declar
ation, expecting to hear something truly excellent from so
year longer to live. When
Octavius proceeded in this manner: For these reasons, says he,
my friends, I have left off all taverns, the wine of those places is
not good enough for me in this decay of nature. I must now
be nice in what I drink; I cannot pretend to do, as I have done;
and therefore am resolved to furnish my own cellar with a little
of the very best, though it costs me ever so much.
I must also tell you, my friends, that age forces a man to be
wise in many other respects, and makes us change many of our
opinions and practices.
You know how much I have liked a large acquaintance; I
now condemn it as an error. Three or four cheerful, diverting
a Devout and Holy Life.
companions, is all that I now desire: because I find, that in my
present infirmities, if I am left alone, or to grave company, I am
not so easy to myself.
A few days after Octavius had made this declaration to his
friends, he relapsed into his former illness, was committed to a
nurse, who closed his eyes, before his fresh parcel of wine
came in.
Young Eugenius, who was present at this discourse, went
home a new man, with full resolutions of devoting himself
wholly unto God.
I never, says Eugenius, was so deeply
and importance of religion, as when I saw how poorly and meanly
the learned Octavius was to leave the world, through the want
of it.
How often had I envied his great learning, his skill in
languages, his knowledge of antiquity, his address, and fine
manner of expressing himself upon all subjects! But when I
saw how poorly it all ended, what was to be the last year of such
a life, and how foolishly the master of all these
was then forced to talk, for want of being acquainted with the
joys and expectations of piety, I was thoroughly convinced, that
there was nothing to be envied or desired, but a life of true
piety; nor anything so poor and comfortless, as a death with
out it.
Now as the young Eugenius was thus edified and instructed
in the present case; so if you are so happy as to have anything
of his thoughtful
tion of this kind; you will find that arguments for the wisdom
and happiness of a strict piety, offer themselves in all places,
and appeal to all your
You will find, that all the world preaches to an attentive mind;
and that if you have but ears to hear, almost everything you
meet, teaches you some lesson of
But now, if to these admonitions and instructions, which we
receive from our senses, from an experience of the state of
human life; if to these we add the lights of religion, those great
truths which the Son of God has taught us; it will be then as
much past all doubt, that there is but one happiness for man, as
For since religion teaches us, that our souls are
piety and devotion will carry them to an eternal enjoyment of
God; and that carnal worldly tempers will sink them into an
everlasting misery with damned spirits; what gross nonsense
and stupidity is it, to give the name of joy or happiness to any
thing but that, which carries us to this joy and happiness in God?
Were all to die with our bodies, there might be some pretence
Cognatus is a sober, regular Clergyman, of good repute in the
world, and well esteemed in his parish. All his parishioners say
he is an honest man, and very notable at making a bargain.
The farmers listen to him with great attention, when he talks of
the properest time of selling corn.
He has been for twenty years a diligent observer of markets,
and has raised a considerable fortune by good management.
Cognatus is very orthodox, and full of
As he cannot serve both his livings himself, he makes it
matter of conscience to keep a sober curate upon one of them,
whom he hires to take care of all the souls in the parish, at as
cheap a rate as a sober man can be procured.
Cognatus has been very prosperous all his time; but still he
has had the uneasiness and vexations that they have, who are
deep in worldly business. Taxes, losses, crosses, bad mortgages, bad tenants, and the hardness of the times, are frequent subjects
Cognatus has no other end in growing rich, but that he may
leave a considerable fortune to a Niece, whom he has politely
educated in expensive finery, by what he has saved out of the
tithes of two livings.
The neighbours look upon Cognatus as an happy clergyman,
because they see him (as they call it) in good circumstances; and
some of them intend to dedicate their own sons to the Church,
because they see how well it has succeeded with Cognatus, whose
father was but an ordinary man.
But now if Cognatus, when he first entered into holy orders,
had perceived how absurd a thing it is to grow rich by the
primitive father; if he had had the piety of the great St. a Devout and Holy Life.
in his eye, who durst not enrich any of his relations out of the
revenue of the
treasures upon earth, he had distributed the income of every
year, in the most Christian acts of
If instead of tempting his Niece to be proud, and providing
her with such ornaments, as the Apostle forbids, he had clothed,
If instead of the cares and anxieties of bad bonds, troublesome mortgages, and
If instead of rejoicing at the happiness of a second living, he
had thought it as unbecoming the office of a clergyman, to traffic
for gain in holy things, as to open a shop.
If he had thought it better to recommend some honest labour
to his Niece, than to support her in idleness by the labours of a
curate; better that she should want fine clothes and a rich husband,
than that cures of souls should be farmed about, and brother
clergymen not suffered to live by those altars at which they serve.
If this had been the spirit of Cognatus, could it with any reason
be said, that these
robbed Cognatus of any real happiness? Could it be said, that a
life thus governed by the spirit of the dull and
melancholy, if compared to that of raising a fortune for a
Now as this cannot be said in the present case, so in every
other kind of life, if you enter into the particulars of it, you will
find, that however easy and prosperous it may seem, yet you
cannot add piety to any part of it, without adding so much of a
better joy and happiness to it.
Look now at that condition of life, which draws the
all eyes.
Negotius is a temperate honest man. He served his time
under a master of great trade, but has, by his own management,
made it a more considerable business than ever it was before.
For thirty years last past, he has wrote fifty or sixty letters in a
week, and is busy in corresponding with all parts of Europe. The
general good of trade seems to Negotius to be the general good
of life; whomsoever he admires, whatever he commends or con
demns, either in
demned, with some regard to trade.
As money is continually pouring in upon him, so he often lets
A Serious Call to
it go in various kinds of expense and generosity, and sometimes
in ways of
Negotius is always ready to join in any public contribution: If
a purse is making at any place where he happens to be, whether
it be to buy a plate for a horse-race, or to redeem a prisoner out
of gaol, you are always sure of having something from him.
He has given a fine ring of bells to a Church in the country;
and there is much expectation, that he will some time or other
make a more beautiful front to the market-house, than has yet
been seen in any place. For it is the generous spirit of Negotius,
to do nothing in a mean way.
If you ask what it is, that has secured Negotius from all scandalous vices, it is the same thing that has kept him from all
For this reason he hears of the pleasures of debauchery, and
the pleasures of piety, with the same indifferency; and has no
more desire of living in the one, than in the other, because neither
of them consist with that turn of mind, and multiplicity of busi
ness, which are his happiness.
If Negotius was asked, What is it which he drives at in life?
he would be as much at a loss for an answer, as if he was asked,
what any other person is thinking of. For though he always
seems to himself to know what he is doing, and has many things
in his head, which are the motives of his
tell you of any one general end of life, that he has chosen with
deliberation, as being truly worthy of all his labour and pains.
He has several confused notions in his head, which have been
a long time there; such as these, viz., That it is something great
to have more business than other people, to have more dealings
upon his hands than an hundred of the same profession; to grow
continually richer and richer, and to raise an immense fortune
before he dies. The thing that seems to give Negotius the greatest
life and spirit, and to be most in his thoughts, is an expectation
that he has, that he shall die richer than any of his business
ever did.
The generality of people, when they
upon Negotius, in whose life every instance of
posed to meet; sober, prudent, rich, prosperous, generous, and
charitable.
Let us now, therefore, look at this condition in another, but
truer light.
Let it be supposed, that this same Negotius was a painful,
a Devout and Holy Life.
laborious man, every day deep in variety of affairs; that he neither
drank, nor debauched; but was sober and regular in his business.
Let it be supposed, that he grew old in this course of trading;
and that the end and design of all this labour, and care, and
application to business, was only this, that he might die possessed
of more than an hundred thousand pair of boots and spurs, and
as many great coats.
Let it be supposed, that the sober part of the world say of him
when he is dead, that he was a great and happy man, a thorough
master of business, and had acquired a hundred thousand pair
of boots and spurs when he died.
Now if this was really the case, I believe it would be readily
granted, that a life of such business was as poor and
as any that be invented. But it would puzzle anyone to show,
that a man that has spent all his time and thoughts in business
and hurry that he might die, as it is said, worth an hundred thou
sand pounds, is any whit wiser than he, who has taken the same
pains, to have as many pair of boots and spurs when he leaves the
world.
For if the temper and state of our souls be our whole state; if
the only end of life be to die as free from exalted in
return, and to stand a trial before
everlasting happiness or misery; what can it possibly signify
what a man had, or had not, in this world? What can it signify
what you call those things which a man has left behind him;
whether you call them his or anyone’s else; whether you call them
trees, or fields, or birds and feathers; whether you call them an
hundred thousand pounds, or an hundred thousand pair of boots
and spurs? I say, call them; for the things signify no more to
him than the names.
Now it is easy to see the folly of a life thus spent, to furnish a
man with such a number of boots and spurs. But yet there needs
no better faculty of seeing, no finer understanding, to see the folly
of a life spent, in making a man a possessor of ten towns before
he dies.
For if when he has got all his towns, or all his boots, his soul is
to go to its own place amongst separate
laid by in a coffin, till the last trumpet calls him to judgment;
where the inquiry will be, how humbly, how devoutly, how purely,
how meekly, how piously, how charitably, how heavenly, we have
spoken, thought, and acted, whilst we were in the body; how can
we say, that he who has worn out his life in raising an hundred thousand pounds, has acted wiser for himself, than he who has had
But further: Let it now be supposed, that Negotius, when he
first entered into business, happening to read the
attention, and eyes open, found that he had a much greater busi
ness upon his hands, than that to which he had served an ap
prenticeship; that there were things which belong to man, of
much more importance than all that our eyes can see; so glorious,
as to deserve all our thoughts; so dangerous, as to need all our
care; and so certain, as never to deceive the faithful labourer.
Let it be supposed, that from reading this book, he had dis
covered that his soul was more to him than his
better to grow in the
body, or a full purse; that it was better to be fit for heaven, than
to have variety of fine houses upon the earth; that it was better
to secure an everlasting
which he cannot keep; better to live in habits of humility, piety,
devotion,
judgment; better to be most like our
saint, than to excel all the tradesmen in the world, in business
and bulk of fortune.
Let it be supposed, that Negotius believing these things to be
true, entirely devoted himself to God at his first setting out in
the world, resolving to pursue his business no further than was
consistent with great devotion, humility, and self-denial; and for
no other ends, but to provide himself with a sober subsistence,
and to do all the good that he could, to the souls and bodies of
his fellow-creatures.
Let it therefore be supposed, that instead of the continual
hurry of business, he was frequent in his retirements, and a strict
observer of all the hours of prayer; that instead of restless
after more riches, his soul had been full of the love of God and
heavenly affection, constantly watching against worldly tempers,
and always aspiring after divine
cares and contrivances, he was busy in fortifying his soul against
all approaches of
generosity of a splendid life, he loved and exercised all instances
of humility and lowliness; that instead of great treats and full
tables, his house only furnished a sober refreshment to those that
wanted it.
Let it be supposed that his contentment kept him free from
all kinds of
all crosses and disappointments. That his
being rich, by a continual distribution to all objects of compassion.
Now had this been the Negotius, can anyone
say, that he had lost the true joy and happiness of life, by thus con
forming to the spirit, and living up to the hopes of the
Can it be said, that a life made exemplary by such
these, which keep heaven always in our sight, which both delight
and exalt the soul here, and prepare it for the presence of God
hereafter, must be poor and dull, if compared to that of heaping
up riches, which can neither stay with us, nor we with them?
It would be endless to multiply examples of this kind, to show
you how little is lost, and how much is gained, by introducing a
strict and exact piety into every condition of human life.
this way of thinking further, hoping that you are enough directed
by what is here said, to convince yourself, that a true and
exalted piety is so far from rendering any life dull and tiresome,
that it is the only joy and happiness of every condition in the
world.
Imagine to yourself some person in a consumption, or any
other lingering distemper, that was incurable.
If you were to see such a man wholly intent upon doing every
thing in the spirit of Religion, making the wisest use of all his
time, fortune, and abilities. If he was for carrying every duty
of piety to its greatest
vantage that could be had from the remainder of his life. If he
avoided all business, but such as was necessary; if he was
averse to all the follies and vanities of the world, had no
for finery, and show, but sought for all his comfort in the hopes
and expectations of Religion; you would certainly commend
his prudence, you would say that he had taken the right method
to make himself as joyful and happy, as anyone can be in state
of such infirmity.
On the other hand, if you should see the same person, with
trembling hands, short breath, thin jaws, and hollow eyes, wholly
intent upon business and bargains, as long as he could speak.
If you should see him pleased with fine clothes, when he could
scarce stand to be dressed, and laying out his money in horses
and dogs, rather than purchase the prayers of the poor for his
would certainly condemn him, as a weak silly man.
Now as it is easy to see the
consumptive man, so if you
pursue the same way of thinking, you will as easily perceive the
same wisdom and happiness of a pious temper, in every other
state of life.
For how soon will every man that is in health, be in the state
of him that is in a consumption? How soon will he want all the
same comforts and satisfactions of Religion, which every dying
man wants?
And if it be wise and happy to live piously, because we have
not above a year to live, is it not being more wise, and making
ourselves more happy, because we may have more years to
come! If one year of piety before we die, is so desirable, is not
more years of piety much more desirable?
If a man had five fixed years to live, he could not possibly
think at all, without intending to make the best use of them
all. When he saw his stay so short in this
think that this was not a world for him; and when he saw how
near he was to another world, that was eternal, he must surely
think it very necessary, to be very diligent in preparing himself
for it.
Now as
life, it is yet more reasonable in every circumstance of life, to
every thinking man.
For who but a madman, can reckon that he has five years
certain to come?
And if it be reasonable and necessary to deny our worldly
tempers, and live wholly unto God, because we are certain that
we are to die at the end of five years; surely it must be much
more reasonable and necessary, for us to live in the same spirit,
because we have no certainty, that we shall live five weeks.
Again, if we were to add twenty years to the five, which is in
all probability more than will be added to the lives of many
people, who are at man’s estate; what a poor thing is this!
how small a difference is there between five, and twenty-five
years?
It is said, that a day is with God as a thousand years, and a
thousand years as one day; because in regard to his eternity,
this difference is as nothing.
Now as we are all created to be eternal, to live in an endless
succession of ages upon ages, where thousands and millions of thousands of years, will have no proportion to our everlasting life
Now we can never make any true judgment of time as it
relates to us, without considering the true state of our duration. If
we are temporary beings, then a little time, may justly be called
a great deal in relation to us, but if we are eternal beings, then
the difference of a few years is as nothing.
If we were to suppose three different sorts of rational beings,
all of different, but fixed duration, one sort that lived certainly
only a month, the other a year, and the third an hundred years.
Now if these beings were to meet together, and talk about
a Devout and Holy Life.
time, they must talk in a very different half an hour
to those that were to live but a month, must be a very different
thing, to what it is to those, who are to live an hundred years.
As therefore time is thus different a thing, with regard to the
state of those who enjoy it, so if we would know what time is
with regard to ourselves, we must consider our state.
Now since our eternal state, is as certainly ours, as our present
state; since we are as certainly to live for ever, as we now live
at all; it is plain, that we cannot judge of the value of any par
ticular time, as to us, but by comparing it to that eternal dura
tion, for which we are created.
If you would know, what five years signify to a being that
was to live an hundred, you must compare five to an hundred,
and see what proportion it bears to it, and then you will judge
right.
So if you would know, what twenty years signify to a
Adam, you must compare it, not to a
Consider therefore this: how would you condemn the folly of
a man, that should lose his share of future glory, for the sake of
being rich, or great, or praised, or delighted in any enjoyment,
only one poor day before he was to die!
But if the time will come, when a number of years will seem
less to everyone, than a day does now; what a condemnation
must it then be, if eternal
for something less than the enjoyment of a day!
Why does a day seem a trifle to us now? It is because we
have years to set against it. It is the duration of years, that
makes it appear as nothing.
What a trifle therefore must the years of a man’s age appear,
when they are forced to be set against eternity, when there shall
be nothing but eternity to compare them with!
Now this will be the case of every man, as soon as he is out of
the
years, and to measure time, not by the course of the Sun, but by
setting it against eternity.
As the fixed stars, by reason of our being placed at such dis
tance from them, appear but so many points; so when we,
placed in eternity, shall look back upon all time, it will all
appear but as a moment.
Then, a luxury, and indulgence, a prosperity, a greatness of fifty
years, will seem to everyone that looks back upon it, as the same
poor short enjoyment, as if he had been snatched away in his
first sin.
These few reflections upon time, are only to show how poorly
they think, how miserably they judge, who are less careful of an
eternal state, because they may be at some years’ distance from
it, than they would be, if they knew they were within a few
weeks of it.
HAVING in the foregoing Chapter, shown the necessity
of a devout spirit, or habit of mind in every part of
our common life, in the discharge of all our business,
in the use of all the gifts of God: I come now to con
sider that part of devotion, which relates to times
and hours of prayer.
I take it for granted, that every
is up early in the morning; for it is much more reasonable to
suppose a person up early, because he is a Christian, than because
he is a labourer, or a tradesman, or a servant, or has business that
wants him.
We naturally conceive some abhorrence of a man that is in bed,
when he should be at his labour, or in his shop. We cannot tell
how to
drowsiness, as to neglect his business for it.
Let this therefore teach us to conceive, how odious we must
appear in the sight of heaven, if we are in bed, shut up in sleep
and darkness, when we should be praising God; and are such
slaves to drowsiness, as to neglect our devotions for it.
For if he is to be blamed as a slothful drone, that rather chooses
the lazy indulgence of sleep, than to perform his proper share of
worldly business; how much more is he to be reproached, that
had rather lie folded up in a bed, than be raising up his heart to
God in acts of praise and adoration?
Prayer is the nearest approach to God, and the highest enjoy
ment of him, that we are capable of in this life.
It is the noblest exercise of the soul, the most exalted use of
our best faculties, and the highest
inhabitants of heaven.
When our hearts are full of God, sending up holy desires to
the throne of grace, we are then in our highest state, we are
upon the utmost heights of human greatness; we are not before
kings and princes, but in the presence and audience of the Lord
of all the world, and can be no higher, till death is swallowed up
in glory.
On the other hand, sleep is the poorest, dullest refreshment of
the enjoyment, that
we are forced to receive it either in a state of insensibility, or in
the folly of dreams.
Sleep is such a dull, stupid state of existence, that even amongst
mere animals, we despise those most, which are most drowsy.
He therefore that chooses, to enlarge the slothful indulgence
of sleep, rather than be early at his devotions to God, chooses
the dullest refreshment of the body, before the highest, noblest
employment of the soul; he chooses that state, which is a re
proach to mere animals, rather than that exercise, which is the
glory of
You will perhaps say, though you rise late, yet you are always
careful of your devotions when you are up.
It may be so. But what then? Is it well done of you to rise
late, because you pray when you are up? Is it pardonable to
waste great part of the day in bed, because some time after you
say your prayers?
It is as much your duty to rise to pray, as to pray when you
are risen. And if you are late at your prayers, you offer to God
the prayers of an idle, slothful worshipper, that rises to prayers,
as idle servants rise to their labour.
Further, if you fancy that you are careful of your devotions,
when you are up, though it be your custom to rise late, you
deceive yourself; for you cannot perform your devotions as you
ought. For he that cannot deny himself this drowsy indulgence,
but must pass away good part of the morning in it, is no more
prepared for prayer when he is up, than he is prepared for fasting, abstinence, or any other
Now you do not imagine, that such a one can truly mortify
that
this, as that he can truly perform his devotions; or live in such
a drowsy state of indulgence, and yet relish the joys of a spiritual life.
For surely, no one will pretend to say, that he knows and feels
the true
while to be early at it.
It is not possible in nature, for an Epicure to be truly devout;
he must renounce this habit of sensuality, before he can relish the
happiness of devotion.
Now he that turns sleep into an idle indulgence, does as much
to corrupt and disorder his
tempers, as he that turns the necessities of eating, into a course
of indulgence.
A person that eats and drinks too much, does not feel such
effects from it, as those do, who live in notorious instances of
gluttony and intemperance; but yet his course of indulgence,
though it be not scandalous in the eyes of the world, nor such as
torments his own conscience, is a great and constant hindrance to
his improvement in
‘ears that hear not’; it creates a
the power of bodily
ing into the true spirit of Religion.
Now this is the case of those who waste their time in sleep;
it does not disorder their lives, or wound their consciences, as
notorious acts of
moderate course of indulgence, it silently, and by smaller degrees,
wears away the spirit of religion, and sinks the soul into a state
of dulness and sensuality.
If you consider devotion only as a time of so much prayer,
you may perhaps perform it, though you live in this daily indul-
a Devout and Holy Life.
gence: But if you consider it as a state of the heart, as a lively fervour of the
What conquest has he got over himself? What right hand has
he cut off? What trials is he prepared for? What sacrifice is
he ready to offer unto God; who cannot be so cruel to himself,
as to rise to prayer at such time, as the drudging part of the
world are content to rise to their labour.
Some people will not scruple to tell you, that they indulge
themselves in sleep, because they have nothing to do; and that
if they had either business, or pleasure to rise to, they would not
lose so much of their time in sleep. But such people must be
told, that they mistake the matter; that they have a great deal
of business to do; they have a hardened heart to change; they
have the whole spirit of Religion to get. For surely, he that
thinks devotion to be of less moment, than business or pleasure;
or that he has nothing to do, because nothing but his prayers
want him, may be justly said to have the whole spirit of Religion
to seek.
You must not therefore consider, how small a crime it is to rise late, but you must consider how great a misery it is, to want the
This is the right way of judging, of the
part of your time in bed.
You must not consider the thing barely in itself, but what it
proceeds from; what
discovers the state of the soul, and plainly shows the whole turn
of your
If our
whole nights in prayer; if the devout Anna was day and night
And if you live in a contrary state, wasting great part of every
day in sleep, thinking any time soon enough to be at your prayers;
is it not equally certain, that this practice as much shows the
state of your heart, and the whole turn of your mind?
So that if this indulgence is your way of life, you have as much
reason to believe yourself destitute of the true spirit of devotion,
as you have, to believe the
stration of their devotion, so a contrary way of life, is as strong a
proof of a want of devotion.
When you read the
life, and spirit, and joy in God; that supposes our souls risen
from earthly
another body, another world, and other enjoyments. You see
Christians represented as temples of the Holy Ghost, as children
of the day, as candidates for an eternal crown, as watchful virgins,
that have their lamps always burning, in expectation of the
bridegroom. But can he be thought to have this joy in God, this
care of eternity, this watchful spirit, who has not zeal enough to
rise to his prayers?
When you look into the writings and lives of the first Chris
tians, you see the same
is reality, life and action. Watching and prayers, self-denial and
mortification, was the common business of their lives.
From that time to this, there has been no person like them,
eminent for piety, who has not, like them, been eminent for self
denial and mortification. This is the only royal way that leads
to a kingdom.
But how far are you from this way of life, or rather how con
trary to it, if instead of
tion, you cannot so much as renounce so poor an indulgence, as
to be able to rise to your prayers? If self-denials and bodily
sufferings, if watchings and fastings, will be marks of glory at
the day of Judgment, where must we hide our heads, that have
slumbered away our time in sloth and softness?
You perhaps may find some pretences, to excuse yourselves
from that severity of fasting and self-denial, which the first
weaker, and that the difference of Climates, may make it not
possible for you to observe their methods of self-denial and
austerity, in these colder countries.
But all this is but pretence; for the change is not in the outward state of things, but in the
Had St. Paul lived in a cold country, had he had a constitu
But still he would have lived in a state of self-denial and
mortification. He would have given this same account of him
self: ‘I therefore so run, not as uncertainly, so fight I, not as one
that beateth the air: But I keep under my
subjection, lest that by any means, when I have preached to
others, I myself should be a castaway.’
After all, let it now be supposed, that you imagine there is no
necessity for you to be so sober and vigilant, so fearful of your
self, so watchful over your passions, so apprehensive of danger,
so careful of your salvation, as the Apostles were. Let it be
If therefore, you should think that you have time sufficient,
both for prayer and other duties, though you rise late; yet let
me persuade you to rise early, as an instance of self-denial. It
is so small a one, that if you cannot comply with it, you have no
reason to think yourself capable of any other.
If
palate, in the niceties of meats and drinks, I would not insist much
upon the crime of wasting your money in such a way, though it
be a great one; but I would desire you to renounce such a way
of life, because it supports you in such a state of
indulgence, as renders you incapable of relishing the most essen
tial doctrines of Religion.
For the same reason,
wasting so much of your time in sleep, though it be a great one,
but I desire you to renounce this indulgence, because it gives a
softness and idleness to your soul; and is so contrary to that
lively, zealous, watchful, self-denying spirit, which was not only
the spirit of Christ and his Apostles, the spirit of all the saints
and martyrs which have ever been amongst men, but must be the
A Serious Call to
of the world.
Here therefore, we must fix our charge against this practice;
we must blame it, not as having this or that particular evil, but
as a general habit, that extends itself through our whole spirit,
and supports a state of
It is contrary to piety; not as accidental slips and mistakes in
life are contrary to it, but in such a manner, as an ill habit of body
is contrary to health.
On the other hand, if you were to rise early every morning, as
as instance of self-denial, as a method of renouncing indulgence,
as a means of redeeming your time, and fitting your spirit for
prayer, you would find mighty advantages from it. This method,
though it seems such a small circumstance of life, would in all
probability be a means of great piety. It would keep it con
stantly in your head, that softness and idleness were to be
avoided, that self-denial was a part of
teach you to exercise power over yourself, and make you able by
degrees to renounce other pleasures and tempers that war against
the soul.
This one
dispose your mind to exactness, and be very likely to bring
the remaining part of the day, under rules of prudence and
devotion.
But above all, one certain benefit from this method you will be
sure of having, it will best fit and prepare you for the reception
of the Holy Spirit. When you thus begin the day in the spirit of
religion, renouncing sleep, because you are to renounce softness,
and redeem your time; this disposition, as it puts your heart into
a good state, so it will procure the assistance of the Holy Spirit;
what is so planted and watered, will certainly have an increase
from God. You will then speak from your heart, your soul will
be awake, your prayers will refresh you like meat and drink, you
will feel what you say, and begin to know what saints and holy
men have meant, by fervours of devotion.
He that is thus prepared for prayer, who rises with these dis
positions, is in a very different state from him, who has no rules
of this kind; who rises by chance, as he happens to be weary of
his bed, or is able to sleep no longer. If such a one prays only
with his mouth; if his heart feels nothing of that which he says;
if his prayers are only things of course; if they are a lifeless form
of words, which he only repeats because they are soon said, there
is nothing to be wondered at in all this; for such dispositions are
the natural effects of such a state of life.
Hoping therefore, that you are now enough convinced of the
a Devout and Holy Life.
necessity of rising early to your prayers, I shall proceed to lay
before you a method of daily prayer.
particular forms of prayer, but only to show you the necessity
of praying at such times, and in such a manner.
You will here find some helps, how to furnish yourself with
such forms of prayer, as shall be useful to you. And if you are
such a proficient in the spirit of devotion, that your heart is
always ready to pray in its own
necessity of borrowed forms.
For though I think a form of prayer very necessary and
expedient for public worship, yet if anyone can find a better way
of raising his heart unto God in private, than by prepared forms
of prayer, I have nothing to object against it; my design being
only to assist and direct such as stand in need of assistance.
Thus much, I believe, is certain, that the generality of
Christians ought to use forms of prayer, at all the regular times
of prayer. It seems right for everyone to begin with a form of
prayer; and if in the midst of his devotions, he finds his heart
ready to break forth into new and higher strains of devotion, he
should leave his form for a while, and follow those fervours of
his heart, till it again wants the assistance of his usual petitions.
This seems to be the true liberty of
All people that have ever made any reflections upon what
passes in their own hearts, must know that they are mighty
changeable in regard to devotion. Sometimes our hearts are so
awakened, have such strong apprehensions of the divine Presence,
are so full of deep compunction for our
confess them in any tears.
Sometimes the light of God’s countenance shines so bright
upon us, we see so far into the invisible world, we are so
with the
hearts worship and adore in a language higher than that of
words, and we feel transports of devotion, which only can be
felt.
On the other hand, sometimes we are so sunk into our
so dull and unaffected with that which concerns our souls, that
our hearts are as much too low for our prayers; we cannot keep
pace with our forms of confession, or feel half of that in our
hearts which we have in our mouths; we thank and praise God
A Serious Call to
with forms of words, but our hearts have little or no share in
them.
It is therefore highly necessary, to provide against this inconstancy of our hearts, by having at hand such
The first thing that you are to do, when you are upon your
knees, is to shut your eyes, and with a short silence let your soul
place itself in the presence of God; that is, you are to use this,
or some other better method, to separate yourself from all
common thoughts, and make your heart as
of the divine presence.
Now if this recollection of spirit is necessary, as who can say
it is not? then how poorly must they perform their devotions,
who are always in a hurry; who begin them in haste, and
hardly allow themselves time to repeat their very form, with any
gravity or attention? Theirs is properly saying prayers, instead
of praying.
To proceed; if you were to use yourself (as far as you can) to
pray always in the same place; if you were to reserve that place
for devotion, and not allow yourself to do anything common in
it; if you were never to be there yourself, but in times of devotion;
if any little room, (or if that cannot be) if any particular part of
a room was thus used, this kind of consecration of it, as a place
holy unto God, would have an effect upon your mind, and dispose
you to such tempers, as would very much assist your devotion.
For by having a place thus sacred in your room, it would in some
measure resemble a chapel or house of God. This would dispose
you to be always in the spirit of religion, when you were there;
and fill you with wise and holy thoughts, when you were by your
self. Your own apartment would raise in your mind, such
altar; and you
would be afraid of thinking or doing anything that was foolish
near that place, which is the place of prayer, and holy inter
course with God.
When you begin your petitions, use such various expressions
of the attributes of God, as may make you most sensible of the
greatness and power of the divine Nature.
Begin therefore in words like these: ‘O Being of all beings,
Fountain of all light and glory, gracious Father of men and
angels, whose universal Spirit is everywhere present, giving life,
and light, and joy, to all
upon earth,’ &c.
For these representations of the divine Attributes, which show
us in some degree the majesty and greatness of God, are an
excellent means of raising our hearts, into lively acts of worship
and adoration.
What is the reason, that most people are so much
with this petition in the Burial Service of our Church: ‘Yet, O
Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and most
merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal
great expressions, gives such a description of the greatness of the
Although therefore prayer does not consist in fine words, or
studied expressions; yet as words speak to the soul, as they have
a certain power of raising thoughts in the soul; so those words
which speak of God in the highest manner, which most fully
express the power and presence of God, which raise thoughts in
the soul most suitable to the greatness and
are the most useful, and most edifying in our prayers.
When you direct any of your petitions to our
let it be in some expressions of this kind: ‘O
world, God of God, Light of Light; thou that art the Bright
ness of thy Father’s Glory, and the express Image of his
Person; thou that art the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning
and End of all things; thou that hast destroyed the power of
the devil, that hast overcome death; thou that art entered into
the Holy of Holies, that sittest at the right hand of the Father,
that art high above all thrones and principalities, that makest
intercession for all the world; thou that art the judge of the
quick and dead; thou that wilt speedily come down in thy
Father’s glory, to reward all men according to their works, be
thou my light and my peace,’ &c.
For such representations, which describe so many characters of
our
adoration, but will, if they are repeated with any attention, fill
our hearts with the highest fervours of true devotion.
Again, if you ask any particular
it be in some manner like this:
‘O holy
scourged at a pillar, stretched and nailed upon a cross, for the
sins of the world, unite me to thy cross, and fill my soul with
A Serious Call to
thy holy, humble, and suffering spirit. O Fountain of mercy,
thou that didst save the thief upon the cross, save me from the
guilt of a sinful life; thou that didst cast seven devils out of
wicked tempers. O Giver of life, thou that didst raise
from the
spirits, give me power over my own heart. Thou that didst
appear unto thy disciples when the doors were shut, do thou
appear unto me in the secret apartment of my heart. Thou
that didst cleanse the lepers, heal the sick, and give sight to
the blind, cleanse my heart, heal the disorders of my soul, and
fill me with heavenly light.’
Now these kinds of appeals have a double advantage; first, as
they are so many proper acts of our faith, whereby we not only
show our belief of the miracles of
Secondly, As they strengthen and increase the faith of our
prayers, by presenting to our minds so many instances of that
power and goodness, which we call upon for our own assistance.
For he that appeals to devils, and raising
the dead, has then a powerful motive in his mind to pray
earnestly, and depend faithfully upon his assistance.
Again; in order to fill your prayers with excellent strains of
devotion, it may be of use to you to observe this further
When at any time either in reading the Scripture, or any
At all the stated hours of prayer, it will be of great benefit to
you, to have something fixed, and something at liberty, in your
devotions.
You should have some fixed subject, which is constantly to
be the chief matter of your prayer at that particular time; and
yet have liberty to add such other petitions, as your condition
may then require.
For instance; As the morning is to you the beginning of a
new life; as God has then given you a new enjoyment of your
self, and a fresh entrance into the world, it is highly proper, that
your first devotions should be a praise and thanksgiving to God,
as for a new creation; and that you should offer and devote
a Devout and Holy Life.
body and soul, all that you are, and all that you have, to his
service and glory.
Receive therefore every day, as a resurrection from death, as a
new enjoyment of life; meet every rising sun with such senti
ments of God’s goodness, as if you had seen it, and all things
new created upon your account; and under the sense of so great
a blessing, let your joyful heart praise and magnify so good and
glorious a Creator.
Let therefore praise and thanksgiving, and oblation of yourself
unto God, be always the fixed and certain subject of your first
prayers in the morning; and then take the liberty of adding
such other devotions, as the accidental difference of your
For one of the greatest benefits of private devotion, consists in
rightly adapting our prayers to these two conditions, the differ
ence of our state, and the difference of our hearts.
By the difference of our state, is meant the difference of our
external state or condition, as of sickness, health, pains, losses, disappointments, troubles, particular
Now as these are great parts of our state of life, as they make
great difference in it, by continually changing; so our devotion
will be made doubly beneficial to us, when it watches to receive
and sanctify all these changes of our state, and turns them all
into so many occasions, of a more particular application to God,
of such thanksgivings, such resignation, such petitions, as our
present state more especially requires.
And he that makes every change in his state, a reason of
presenting unto God some particular petitions suitable to that
change, will soon find, that he has taken an excellent means, not
only of praying with fervour, but of living as he prays.
The next condition, to which we are always to adapt some
part of our prayers, is the difference of our hearts; by which is
meant the different state of the tempers of our hearts, as of love, joy, peace, tranquillity; dulness and
Now as these tempers, through the weakness of our
will have their succession more or less, even in pious minds; so
we should constantly make the present state of our heart, the
reason of some particular application to God.
If we are in the delightful calm of sweet and easy
love and joy in God, we should then offer the grateful tribute of
A Serious Call to
thanksgiving to God, for the possession of so much
thankfully owning and acknowledging him as the bountiful
Giver of it all.
If, on the other hand, we feel ourselves laden with heavy
passions, with dulness of spirit, anxiety and uneasiness, we must
then look up to God in acts of humility, confessing our
unworthiness, opening our troubles to him, beseeching him in
his good time to lessen the weight of our infirmities, and to
deliver us from such passions as oppose the purity and
of our souls.
Now by thus watching, and attending to the present state of
our hearts, and suiting some of our petitions exactly to their
wants, we shall not only be well acquainted with the disorders
of our souls, but also be well exercised in the method of curing
them.
By this prudent and wise application of our prayers, we shall
get all the relief from them that is possible; and the very
changeableness of our hearts, will prove a means of exercising a
greater variety of holy tempers.
Now by all that has here been said, you will easily perceive,
that persons careful of the greatest benefit of prayer, ought to
have a great share in the forming and composing their own
devotions.
As to that part of their prayers, which is always fixed to one
certain subject, in that they may use the help of forms composed
by other persons; but in that part of their prayers, which they
are always to suit to the present state of their life, and the
present state of their heart, there they must let the
own condition help them to such kinds of petition, thanksgiving,
or resignation, as their present state more especially requires.
Happy are they, who have this business and employment
upon their hands!
And now, if people of leisure, whether men, or women, who
are so much at a loss how to dispose of their time, who are
forced into poor contrivances, idle visits, and
sions, merely to get rid of hours that hang heavily upon their
hands; if such were to appoint some certain spaces of their time,
to the study of devotion, searching after all the means and helps
to attain a devout forms
of devotion, to use themselves to transcribe the finest passages of
scripture-prayers; if they were to collect the devotions, con
And how much better would it be, to make this benefit of
leisure-time, than to be dully and idly lost in the poor imperti
nences of a playing, visiting, wandering life?
How much better would it be, to be thus furnished with
hymns and anthems of the saints, and teach their
ascend to God, than to corrupt, bewilder, and confound their
hearts, with the wild fancies, the
Now though people of leisure seem called more particularly
to this study of devotion, yet persons of much business or
labour, must not think themselves excused from this, or some
better method of improving their devotion.
For the greater their business is, the more need they have of
some such method as this, to prevent its power over their hearts;
to secure them from sinking into worldly tempers, and preserve
a sense and taste of heavenly things in their
little time regularly and constantly employed to any one use or
end, will do great things, and produce mighty effects.
And it is for want of considering devotion in this light, as
something that is to be nursed and cherished with care, as
something that is to be made part of our business, that is to be
improved with care and contrivance, by art and method, and a
diligent use of the best helps; it is for want of considering it in
this light, that so many people are so little benefited by it, and
live and die strangers to that spirit of devotion, which by a pru
dent use of proper means, they might have enjoyed in a high
degree.
For though the spirit of devotion is the gift of God, and not
attainable by any mere power of our own, yet it is mostly given,
and never withheld, from those, who by a wise and diligent use
of proper means, prepare themselves for the reception of it.
And it is amazing to see, how eagerly men employ their parts,
their sagacity, time, study, application and exercise; how all helps
are called to their assistance, when anything is intended and
desired in worldly matters; and how dull, negligent, and unim
proved they are, how little they use their parts, sagacity, and
abilities, to raise and increase their devotion!
Mundanus is a man of excellent parts, and
hension
figure in business. Every part of trade and business that has
fallen in his way, has had some improvement from him; and he
is always contriving to carry every method of doing anything
A Serious Call to
well, to its greatest Mundanus aims at the greatest per
fection in everything. The soundness and strength of his mind,
and his just way of thinking upon things, makes him intent
upon removing all imperfections.
He can tell you all the defects and errors in all the common
methods, whether of trade, building, or improving land, or manufactures. The clearness and strength of his understanding,
Thus has Mundanus gone on, increasing his knowledge and
judgment, as fast as his years came upon him.
The one only thing which has not fallen under his improve
ment, nor received any benefit from his judicious mind, is his
devotion: This is just in the same poor state it was, when he was
only six years of age, and the old man prays now, in that little
form of words, which his mother used to hear him repeat night
and morning.
This Mundanus, that hardly ever saw the poorest utensil, or
ever took the meanest trifle into his hand, without considering
how it might be made, or used to better advantage, has gone all
his life long praying in the same manner, as when he was a
child; without ever considering how much better or oftener he
might pray; without considering how improvable the spirit of
devotion is, how many helps a wise and reasonable man may
call to his assistance, and how necessary it is, that our prayers
should be enlarged, varied and suited to the particular state and
condition of our lives.
If Mundanus sees a book of devotion, he passes it by, as he does
a spelling-book, because he remembers that he learned to pray,
so many years ago under his mother, when he learned to spell.
Now how poor and pitiable is the conduct of this man of
sense, who has so much judgment and understanding in every
thing, but that which is the whole wisdom of man?
And how miserably do many people, more or less, imitate
this conduct?
All which seems to be owing to a strange infatuated state of
negligence, which keeps people from considering what devotion
is. For if they did but once proceed so far, as to reflect about
it, or ask themselves any questions concerning it, they would
soon see, that the spirit of devotion was like any other sense or
understanding, that is only to be improved by study, care, application, and the
Classicus is a man of learning and well versed in all the best
authors of
entered into their
manner of any of them. All their thoughts are his thoughts,
and he can express himself in their
friend to this improvement of the
young scholar, he never fails to advise him concerning his
studies.
Classicus tells this young man, he must not think that he has
done enough, when he has only learned languages; but that he
must be daily conversant with the best authors, read them again
and again, catch their spirit by living with them, and that there
is no other way of becoming like them, or of making himself a
man of taste and
How wise might Classicus have been, and how much good
might he have done in the world, if he had but thought as justly
of devotion, as he does of
He never, indeed, says anything shocking or offensive about
devotion, because he never thinks, or talks about it. It suffers
nothing from him, but neglect and disregard.
The two Testaments would not have had so much as a place
amongst his Books, but that they are both to be had in Greek.
Classicus thinks that he sufficiently shows his regard for the
piety besides them.
It is very well, Classicus, that you prefer the Bible to all other
Books of piety; he has no judgment, that is not thus far of
your opinion.
But if you will have no other book of piety besides the
because it is the best, How comes it, Classicus, that you do not
content yourself with one of the best Books amongst the
and Romans? How comes it that you are so greedy and eager
How comes it that you read so many Commentators upon
Cicero, Horace, and
How comes it that you tell your young scholar, he must not
content himself with barely understanding his authors, but must
A Serious Call to
be continually reading them all, as the only means of entering into
their spirit, and forming his own
Why then must the
spirit of the saints, the piety of the holy followers of
Christ, as good and necessary a means of entering into the spirit
and taste of the
entering into the spirit of
Is the spirit of
Poets and Orators? And is not the spirit of devotion to be got
in the same way, by frequently reading the holy thoughts, and
pious strains of devout men?
Is your young Poet to search after every line, that may give
new wings to his fancy, or direct his
not as reasonable for him, who desires to improve in the divine
life, that is, in the love of heavenly things, to search after every
strain of devotion, that may move, kindle, and inflame the holy
ardour of his soul?
Do you advise your Orator
commit much of them to memory, to be frequently exercising
his talent in this manner, that habits of thinking and speaking
justly may be formed in his mind? And is there not the same
benefit and advantage to be made by books of devotion?
Should not a man use them in the same way, that habits of
devotion, and aspiring to God in holy thoughts, may be well
formed in his soul?
Now the reason why Classicus does not think and judge thus
any other manner, than as the repeating a form of words. It
never in his life entered into his head, to think of devotion as a
state of the heart, as an improvable talent of the temper
that is to grow and increase like our reason and
And it is for want of this, that he has been content all his life,
with the bare letter of Prayer, and eagerly bent upon entering
into the spirit of
And it is much to be lamented, that numbers of scholars are
And yet, to correct this temper, and fill a man with a quite
contrary spirit, there seems to be no more required, than the bare
belief of the truth of
And if you were to ask Mundanus, and Classicus, or any man
of business, or learning, whether piety is not the highest
fectiondevotion the greatest attainment in the world,
they must both be forced to answer in the affirmative, or else
give up the truth of the
For to set any accomplishment against devotion, or to think
anything, or all things in the world, can bear any proportion to
its excellency; is the same absurdity in a Christian, as it would
be in a Philosopher to prefer a meal’s meat, to the greatest
improvement in knowledge.
For as Philosophy professes purely the search and enquiry
He that does not believe this of Christianity, may be reckoned
an infidel; and he that believes thus much, has faith enough to
To conclude this Chapter, Devotion is nothing else but right apprehensions and
All practices therefore that heighten and improve our true
apprehensions of God, all ways of life that tend to nourish, raise,
and fix our affections upon him, are to be reckoned so many
helps and means to fill us with devotion.
As Prayer is the proper fuel of this holy flame, so we must use
all our care and contrivance to give prayer its full power; as by
alms, self-denial, frequent retirements, and holy readings, com
posing forms for ourselves, or using the best we can get, adding
length of time, and observing hours of Prayer; changing, improving, and
Those who have most leisure, seem more especially called to a
more eminent observance of these holy
And they who by the necessity of their state, and not through
their own choice, have but little time to employ thus, must make
the best use of that little they have.
For this is the certain way of making devotion produce a
devout life.
YOU have seen in the foregoing Chapter, what means and
methods you are to use, to raise and improve your
devotion. How early you are to begin your prayers,
and what is to be the subject of your first devotions in
the morning.
There is one thing still remaining, that you must be required
to observe, not only as fit and proper to be done, but as such as
cannot be neglected, without great prejudice to your devotions.
And that is, to begin all your Prayers with a
This is so right, is so beneficial to devotion, has so much
effect upon our hearts, that it may be insisted upon as a common
rule for all persons.
read over a Psalm, but that
you should chant or sing one of those Psalms, which we
commonly call the reading Psalms. For singing is as much the
proper use of a Psalm, as
Now the method of chanting a
Colleges in the Universities, and in some Churches, is such as all
Persons are capable of. The change of the voice in thus chanting
of a
it, and yet sufficient to raise and keep up the gladness of our
hearts.
You are therefore to consider this chanting of a
necessary beginning of your devotions, as something that is to
awaken all that is good and holy within you, that is to call your
spirits to their proper duty, to set you in your best posture
towards heaven, and tune all the powers of your soul to worship
and adoration.
For there is nothing that so clears a way for your prayers,
a Devout and Holy Life.
nothing that so disperses dulness of heart, nothing that so purifies
the poor and little opens
heaven, or carries your heart so near it, as these songs of
praise.
They create a
to give. They kindle an holy flame, they turn your heart into an
altar, your prayers into incense, and carry them as a sweet
smelling savour to the throne of Grace.
The difference between singing and reading a
easily be understood, if you consider the difference between
reading and singing a common song that you like. Whilst you
only read it, you only like it, and that is all; but as soon as you
sing it, then you enjoy it, you feel the delight of it, it has got
hold of you, your passions keep pace with it, and you feel the
same spirit within you, that seems to be in the words.
If you were to tell a person that has such a song, that he need
not sing it, that it was sufficient to peruse it, he would wonder
what you mean; and would think you as absurd, as if you were
to tell him, that he should only look at his food, to see whether
it was good, but need not eat it: For a song of praise not sung,
is very like any other good thing not made use of.
You will perhaps say, that singing is a particular talent, that
belongs only to particular people, and that you have neither
voice nor ear to make any
If you had said that singing is a general talent, and that people
differ in that as they do in all other things, you had said some
thing much
For how vastly do people differ in the talent of thinking,
which is not only common to all men, but seems to be the very
essence of human
upon everything? and how hardly do others reason upon any
thing? How clearly do some people discourse upon the most
abstruse matters? and how confusedly do others talk upon the
plainest subjects?
Yet no one desires to be excused from thought, or reason, or
discourse, because he has not these talents, as some people have
them. But it is full as just, for a person to think himself excused
from thinking upon God, from reasoning about his duty to him,
or discoursing about the means of
these talents in any fine degree; this is full as just, as for a
person to think himself excused from singing the praises of God,
because he has not a fine ear, or a musical voice.
For as it is speaking, and not graceful speaking, that is a
required part of prayer; as it is bowing, and not genteel bowing,
A Serious Call to
that is a proper part of adoration; so it is singing, and not
artful fine singing, that is a required way of praising God.
If a person were to forbear praying, because he had an odd tone in his voice, he would have as good an excuse as he has,
Secondly, This objection might be of some weight, if you were
desired to sing, to entertain other people; but is not to be
admitted in the present case; where you are only required to
sing the praises of God, as a part of your private devotion.
If a person that had a very ill voice, and a bad way of speak
ing, were desired to be the mouth of a congregation, it would be
a very proper excuse for him, to say that he had not a voice, or
a way of speaking that was proper for prayer. But he would be
very absurd, if for the same reason he should neglect his own
private devotions.
Now this is exactly the case of singing Psalms; you may not
have the talent of singing, so as to be able to entertain other
people, and therefore it is reasonable to excuse yourself from it;
but if for that reason you should excuse yourself from this way
of praising God, you would be guilty of a great absurdity:
Because singing is no more required for the music that is made
by it, than prayer is required for the fine words that it contains,
but as it is the natural and proper expression of a heart rejoicing
in God.
Our blessed
may reasonably be supposed, that they rather rejoiced in God,
than made fine
Do but so live, that your heart may truly rejoice in God, that
it may feel itself affected with the praises of God, and then you
will find, that this state of your heart will neither want a voice,
nor ear to find a tune for a
other, finds himself able to sing in some degree; there are some
times and occasions of joy, that make all people ready to express
their sense of it in some sort of harmony. The joy that they
feel, forces them to let their voice have a part in it.
He therefore that saith he wants a voice, or an ear, to sing a
spirit that really rejoices
Singing indeed, as it is improved into an art, as it signifies
the running of the voice through such or such a compass of
notes, and keeping time with a studied variety of changes, is not
natural, nor the effect of any natural state of the
this sense, it is not common to all people, any more than those
antic and invented motions which make fine dancing, are common
to all people.
But singing, as it signifies a motion of the voice suitable to
the motions of the heart, and the changing of its tone according to
the meaning of the words which we utter, is as natural and com
mon to all men, as it is to speak high, when they threaten in anger,
or to speak low, when they are dejected and ask for a pardon.
All men therefore are singers, in the same manner as all men
think, speak, laugh, and lament. For singing is no more an inven
tion, than grief or joy are inventions.
Every state of the heart naturally puts the
state that is suitable to it, and is proper to show it to other
people. If a man is angry, or disdainful, no one need instruct
him how to express these tone of his voice. The
state of his heart disposes him to a proper use of his voice.
If therefore there are but few singers of divine songs, if people
want to be exhorted to this part of devotion; it is because there
are but few, whose hearts are raised to that height of piety, as to
feel any motions of joy and delight in the praises of God.
Imagine to yourself, that you had been with Moses when he
That it is the state of the heart, that disposes us to rejoice in
any particular kind of singing, may be easily proved from variety
of observations upon human nature An old debauchee may,
according to the voice nor
ear, if you only sing a Psalm, or a song in praise of
Thus if you can find a man, whose ruling temper is devotion,
whose heart is full of God, his voice will rejoice in those songs of
praise, which glorify that God who is the joy of his heart, though
he has neither voice nor ear for other music. Would you there
fore delightfully perform this part of devotion, it is not so neces
sary to learn a tune, or practise upon notes, as to prepare your
heart; for as our
evil thoughts, murders, &c., so it is equally true, that out of the
heart proceed holy joys, thanksgiving and praise. If you can once
say with David, ‘
Secondly, Let us now consider another reason for this kind of
devotion. As singing is a natural effect of joy in the heart, so it
has also a natural power of rendering the heart joyful.
The
power over one another in their actions. Certain thoughts and
in the body; and on the other hand, certain motions and actions
of the body, have the same power of raising such and such
thoughts and sentiments in the soul. So that as singing is the
natural effect of joy in the cause
of raising joy in the mind.
As devotion of the heart naturally breaks out into outward
acts of prayer, so outward acts of prayer are natural means of
raising the devotion of the heart.
It is thus in all states and tempers of the mind; as the inward
state of the mind produces outward actions suitable to it, so those
outward actions, have the like power of raising an inward state
of mind suitable to them.
As anger produces angry words, so angry words increase
anger.
So that if we barely consider human
that singing or chanting the
to raise our hearts to a delight in God, as prayer is proper and
necessary to excite in us the spirit of devotion. Every reason
for one, is in all respects as strong a reason for the other.
If therefore you would know the reason and necessity of sing
ing
praising and rejoicing in God; because singing of
much the true exercise and support of this spirit of thanks
giving, as prayer is the true exercise and support of the spirit of
devotion. And you may as well think, that you can be devout
as you ought, without the use of prayer, as that you can rejoice
in God as you ought, without the practice of singing
Because this singing is as much the natural lauguage of praise
and thanksgiving, as prayer is the natural
The union of soul and body is not a mixture of their sub
stances, as we see
solely in the mutual power that they have of acting upon one
another.
If two persons were in such a state of dependence upon one
another, that neither of them could act, or move, or think, or feel,
or suffer, or desire anything, without putting the other into the
same condition, one might properly say, that they were in a
state of strict union, although their substances were not united
together.
Now this is the union of the soul and body; the substance of
the one cannot be mixed, or united with the other; but they are
held together in such a state of union, that all the actions and
sufferings of the one, are at the same time the actions and
sufferings of the other. The
the body is concerned in it; the body has no action or motion,
but what in some degree affects the soul.
Now as it is the sole will of God, that is the reason and cause of
all the powers and effects which you see in the world; as the Sun
gives light and heat, not because it has any natural power of so
doing; as it is fixed in a certain place, and other bodies moving
about it, not because it is in the nature of the Sun to stand still,
and in the nature of other
because it is the will of God, that they should be in such a state.
As the eye is the organ, or instrument of seeing, not because the
skins, and coats, and humours of the eye, have a natural power of
giving sight: As the ears are the organs, or instruments of hear
ing; not because the make of the ear has any natural power over
sounds, but merely because it is the will of God, that seeing and
hearing should be thus received: So in like manner it is the sole
will of God, and not the
the cause of this union betwixt the soul and the body.
Now if you rightly apprehend this short account of the union
of the soul and body, you will see a great deal into the reason
and necessity of all the outward parts of Religion.
This union of our souls and bodies, is the reason both why we
have so little, and so much power over ourselves. It is owing to
this union, that we have so little power over our souls; for as we
cannot prevent the effects of external objects upon our bodies,
as we cannot command outward causes, so we cannot always
command the inward state of our minds; because, as outward
objects act upon our bodies without our leave, so our bodies act
upon our minds by the laws of the union of the soul and the
body: And thus you see it is owing to this union, that we have
so little power over ourselves.
On the other hand, it is owing to this union, that we have so
much power over ourselves. For as our
measure, depend upon our
over our bodies, as we can command our outward actions, and
oblige ourselves to such habits of life, as naturally produce
habits in the soul, as we can mortify our bodies, and remove our
selves, from objects that inflame our
power over the inward state of our souls. Again, as we are
masters of our outward
ward acts of reading, praying, singing, and the like, and as all
these bodily actions have an effect upon the soul, as they
naturally tend to form such and such tempers in our hearts; so
by being masters of these outward, bodily actions, we have great
power over the inward state of the heart.
And thus it is owing to this union, that we have so much
power over ourselves.
Now from this you may also see the necessity and benefit of
singing
the body has so much power over the soul, it is certain that all
such bodily actions as affect the soul, are of great weight in
Religion. Not as if there were any true worship, or piety in the
actions themselves, but because they are proper to raise and
support that spirit, which is the true worship of God.
Though therefore the seat of Religion is in the heart, yet
since our bodies have a power over our hearts, since outward
actions both proceed from, and enter into the heart, it is plain,
that outward actions have a great power over that Religion
which is seated in the heart.
We are therefore as well to use outward helps, as inward
meditation, in order to beget and fix habits of piety in our
hearts.
This doctrine may easily be carried too far; for by calling in
too many outward means of worship, it may degenerate into
contrary extreme. For because Religion is justly placed in the
a Devout and Holy Life.
heart, some have pursued that notion so far, as to renounce
vocal prayer, and other outward acts of worship, and have
resolved all religion into a quietism, or mystic intercourse with
God in silence.
Now these are two extremes equally prejudicial to true
Religion; and ought not to be objected either against internal,
or external worship. As you ought not to say, that I encourage
that quietism by placing religion in the heart: so neither ought
you to say, that I encourage superstition, by showing the benefit
of outward acts of worship.
For since we are neither all soul, nor all body; seeing none of
our
actions both of our souls and bodies; it is certain, that if we
would arrive at habits of devotion, or delight in God, we must
not only meditate and exercise our souls, but we must practise
and exercise our bodies to all such outward actions, as are
conformable to these inward tempers.
If we would truly prostrate our souls before God, we must use
our bodies to postures of lowliness: if we desire true fervours of
devotion, we must make prayer the frequent labour of our lips.
If we would banish all pride and
must force ourselves to all outward actions of patience and
meekness. If we would feel inward
in God, we must practise all the outward acts of it, and make our
voices call upon our hearts.
Now therefore, you may plainly see the reason and necessity
of singing of Psalms; it is because outward actions are necessary
If any People were to leave off prayer, because they seldom
find the motions of their heart answering the words which they
speak, you would charge them with great absurdity. You would
think it very reasonable, that they should continue their prayers,
and be strict in observing all times of prayer, as the most likely
means of removing the dulness and indevotion of their hearts.
Now this is very much the case as to singing of
people often sing without finding any inward joy suitable to the
words which they speak; therefore they are careless of it, or
wholly neglect it; not considering, that they act as absurdly, as
he that should neglect prayer, because his heart was not enough
the natural means of raising motions of joy in the mind, as
prayer is the natural means of raising devotion.
A Serious Call to
importance to true religion. For there is no state of mind so
holy, so excellent, and so truly perfect, as that of thankfulness
to God, and consequently nothing is of more importance in
Religion, than that which exercises and improves this habit of
A dull, uneasy, complaining spirit, which is sometimes the
spirit of those that seem careful of Religion, is yet, of all
tempers, the most contrary to Religion, for it disowns that God
which it pretends to adore. For he sufficiently disowns God,
who does not adore him as a Being of infinite goodness.
If a man does not believe that all the world is as God’s family,
where nothing happens by chance, but all is guided and directed
by the
ness to all his creatures; if a man do not believe this from his
heart, he cannot be said truly to believe in God. And yet he
that has this
always be thankful to God. For he that believes that every
thing happens to him for the best, cannot possibly complain for
the want of something that is better.
If therefore you live in murmurings and complaints, accusing
all the
creature, but it is because you want the first principle of religion,
a right belief in God. For as thankfulness is an express
acknowledgment of the goodness of God towards you, so
repinings and complaints, are as plain accusations of God’s
want of goodness towards you.
On the other hand, would you know who is the greatest Saint
in the world: It is not he who prays most, or fasts most; it is
not he who gives most alms, or is most eminent for temperance,
chastity, or justice; but it is he who is always thankful to God,
who wills everything that God willeth, who receives everything
as an instance of God’s goodness, and has a heart always ready
to praise God for it.
All prayer and devotion, fastings and repentance, meditation
and retirement, all sacraments and ordinances, are but so many
means to render the
will of God, and to fill it with thankfulness and praise for every
thing that comes from God. This is the
and all virtues that do not tend to it, or proceed from it, are but
so many false ornaments of a soul not converted unto God.
You need not therefore now wonder, that
upon singing a
form your spirit to such joy and thankfulness to God, as is the
highest perfection of a divine and holy life.
If anyone would tell you the shortest, surest way to all happi-
a Devout and Holy Life.
ness, and all perfection, he must tell you to make a rule to your
self, to thank and praise God for everything that happens to you.
For it is certain, that whatever seeming calamity happens to you,
if you thank and praise God for it, you turn it into a blessing.
Could you therefore work
yourself, than by this thankful spirit, for it heals with a word
speaking, and turns all that it touches into
If therefore you would be so true to your eternal interest, as to
propose this thankfulness as the end of all your Religion; if you
would but settle it in your mind, that this was the state that you
were to aim at by all your devotions, you would then have some
thing plain and visible to walk by in all your actions, you would
then easily see the effect of your virtues, and might safely judge
of your improvement in piety. For so far as you renounce all
selfish tempers, and motions of your own will, and seek for no
other happiness, but in the thankful reception of everything that
happens to you, so far you may be safely reckoned to have
advanced in piety.
And although this be the highest temper that you can aim at,
though it be the noblest sacrifice that the greatest saint can offer
unto God, yet is it not tied to any time, or place, or great occasion,
but is always in your power, and may be the exercise of every
day. For the common events of every day are sufficient to dis
And for this reason,
devotion, that every day may be made a day of thanksgiving,
and that the spirit of murmur and discontent may be unable to
enter into the heart, which is so often employed in singing the
praises of God.
It may perhaps, after all, be objected, that although the great
benefit, and excellent effects of this practice are very apparent,
yet it seems not altogether so fit for private devotions; since it
can hardly be performed without making our devotions public to
other people, and seems also liable to the charge of sounding a
trumpet at our prayers.
It is therefore answered; First, That great numbers of people
have it in their power to be as private as they please: such
persons therefore are excluded from this excuse, which however
it may be so to others, is none to them. Therefore let such take
the benefit of this excellent devotion.
Secondly, Numbers of people are by the necessity of their state,
as servants, apprentices, prisoners, and families in small houses,
forced to be continually in the presence or sight of somebody or
other.
Now, are such persons to neglect their prayers, because they
cannot pray without being seen? Are they not rather obliged
to be more exact in them, that others may not be witnesses of
their neglect, and so corrupted by their example?
Now what is here said of devotion, may surely be said of this
chanting a Psalm, which is only a part of devotion.
The may be seen of men, but
if your confinement obliges you to be always in the sight of others,
be more afraid of being seen to neglect, than of being seen to have
recourse to prayer.
Thirdly, The short of the matter is this. Either people can
use such privacy in this practice as to have no hearers, or they
cannot. If they can, then this objection vanishes as to them:
and if they cannot, they should consider their confinement, and
the necessities of their state, as the confinement of a prison; and
then they have an excellent pattern to follow, they may imitate
St. Paul and
pious reader to observe, how strongly we are here called upon to
this use of
practice of these two great Saints is.
In this their great distress, in prison, in chains, under the sore
ness of stripes, in the horror of night, the divinest, holiest thing
they could do, was to sing praises unto God.
And shall we, after this, need any exhortation to this holy
practice? Shall we let the day pass without such thanksgivings,
as they would not neglect in the night? Shall a prison, chains,
and darkness furnish them with songs of praise, and shall we
have no singings in our closets?
Further let it also be observed, that while these two holy men
were thus employed in the most exalted part of devotion, doing
that on earth, which Angels do in
And shall we now ask for motives to this divine exercise, when
instead of arguments, we have here such miracles to convince us
Could God by a voice from Heaven more expressly call us to
* a Devout and Holy Life.
these songs of praise, than by thus showing us, how he hears, delivers, and
But this by the way.
and answer Fourthly, That the privacy of our prayers is not
destroyed by our having, but by our seeking witnesses of them.
If therefore nobody hears you but those you cannot separate
yourself from, you are as much in secret, and ‘your Father who
seeth in secret,’ will as truly reward your secrecy, as if you were
seen by him alone.
Fifthly, Private prayer, as it is opposed to prayer in public,
does not suppose that no one is to have any witness of it. For
husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, parents and children, masters and
In all these cases therefore, where such relations sometimes
pray together in private, and sometimes apart by themselves, the
chanting of a
fast, to ‘anoint our
heads, and wash our faces, that we appear not unto men to fast,
but unto our Father which is in secret.’
But this only means, that we must not make public ostentation
to the world of our fasting.
For if no one was to fast in private, or could be said to fast in
private, but he that had no witnesses of it, no one could keep a
private fast, but he that lived by himself: For every family must
know who fasts in it. Therefore the privacy of fasting does not
suppose such a privacy as excludes everybody from knowing it,
but such a privacy as does not seek to be known abroad.
Cornelius the devout Centurion, of whom the
Now that this fasting was sufficiently private and acceptable to
God, appears from the vision of an Angel, with which the holy
But that it was not so private, as to be entirely unknown to
others, appears, as from the relation of it here, so from what is
said in another place, that he ‘called two of his household
servants, and a devout soldier of them that waited upon him
continually.† So that Cornelius’s fasting was so far from
*
† Acts x. 7.
As therefore the privacy or excellency of fasting, is not de
stroyed by being known to some particular persons, neither
would the privacy or excellency of your devotions be hurt, though
by chanting a Psalm, you should be heard by some of your
family.
The whole of the matter is this. Great part of the world can
be as private as they please, therefore let them use this excellent
devotion between God and themselves.
Another great part of the world must, and ought to have
witnesses of several of their devotions; let them therefore not
neglect the use of a Psalm at
And if at other times, you desire to be in such secrecy at
your devotions, as to have nobody suspect it, and for that reason
forbear your psalm; I have nothing to object against it: Pro
vided, that at the known hours of prayer, you never omit this
practice.
For who would not be often doing that in the day, which
St. Paul and
Lastly, seeing our have great power over our
As thus: before you begin your psalm of praise and rejoicing
in God, make this use of your imagination.
Be still, and imagine to yourself, that you saw the heavens
open, and the glorious Choirs of Cherubims and Seraphims
about the throne of God. Imagine that you hear the music of
those Angelic voices, that cease not day and night to sing the
glories of him that is, and was, and is to come.
Help your imagination with such passages of Scripture as
these: ‘I beheld, and lo, in heaven a great multitude which no
man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and
with white robes, and palms in their hands. And they cried
a Devout and Holy Life.
with a loud voice, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the
throne, and unto the lamb.
And all the angels stood round about the throne, and fell
before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, saying,
Amen: Blessing and glory, and
honour, and power, and strength, be unto God, for ever and ever.
Amen.’*
Think upon this till your imagination has carried you above
the clouds, till it has placed you amongst those heavenly beings,
and made you long to bear a part in their eternal
If you will but use yourself to this method, and let your
imagination dwell upon such representations as these, you will
soon find it to be an excellent means of raising the spirit of
devotion within you.
Always therefore begin your Psalm, or Song of praise, with
these imaginations; and at every verse of it, imagine yourself
amongst those heavenly companions, that your voice is added to
theirs, and that Angels join with you, and you with them; and
that you with a poor and low voice are singing that on earth,
which they are singing in heaven.
Again, Sometimes imagine that you had been one of those
that joined with our blessed Saviour when he sung an Hymn.
Strive to imagine to yourself, with what majesty he looked;
fancy that you had stood close by him surrounded with his glory.
Think how your heart would have been inflamed, what ecstasies
of joy you would have then felt, when singing with the
God. Think again and again, with what joy and devotion you
would then have sung, had this been really your happy state, and
what a punishment you should have thought it, to have been
then silent; and let this teach you how to be
Psalms and
Again, Sometimes imagine to yourself, that you saw holy
David with his
Dwell upon this
with this divine musician, and let such a companion teach you to
exalt your heart unto God in the following
may use constantly first in the morning.
will praise thy name for ever and ever,’ &c.
These following
* Rev. vii. 9.A Serious Call to
147th, are such as wonderfully set forth the glory of God; and
therefore you may keep to any one of them, at any particular
hour, as you like: Or you may take the finest parts of any
Psalms, and so adding them together, may make them fitter for
your own devotion.
IAM now come to another hour of prayer, which in
The devout
self, as called upon by God to renew his acts of prayer, and
address himself again to the throne of grace.
There is indeed no express command in
our devotions at this hour. But then it is to be considered also,
that neither is there any express command to begin and end the
day with prayer. So that if that be looked upon as a reason for
neglecting devotion at this hour, it may as well be urged as a
reason, for neglecting devotion both at the beginning and end of
the day.
But if the practice of the saints in all ages of the world, if the
customs of the pious Jews and primitive Christians be of any
The
devotion both by Jews and Christians; so that if we desire to
For if you were up at a good time in the morning, your first
devotions will have been at a proper distance from this hour;
you will have been long enough at other business, to make it
a Devout and Holy Life.
proper for you to return to this greatest of all business, the
raising your soul and affections unto God.
But if you have risen so late, as to be hardly able to begin
your first devotions at this hour, which is proper for your second,
you may thence learn, that the indulging yourself in the morning
sleep is no small matter; since it sets you so far back in your
devotions, and robs you of those graces and blessings, which are
obtained by frequent prayers.
For if prayer has power with God, if it looses the bands of
if it purifies the reforms our hearts, and draws down the
aids of divine
which robs us of an hour of prayer?
Imagine yourself somewhere placed in the air, as a
of all that passes in the world; and that you saw in one view,
the devotions which all Christian people offer unto God every
day. Imagine, that you saw some piously dividing the day and
night, as the primitive
of devotion, singing calling upon God, at all those
times, that Saints and Martyrs received their gifts and graces
from God.
Imagine that you saw others living without any
times and frequency of prayer, and only at their devotions sooner
or later, as sleep and laziness happens to permit them.
Now if you were to see this, as God sees it, how do you
suppose you should be affected with this sight? What judgment
do you imagine, you should pass upon these different sorts of
people? Could you think, that those who were thus exact in
their rules of devotion, got nothing by their exactness? Could
you think, that their prayers were received just in the same
manner, and procured them no more blessings, than theirs do,
who prefer laziness and indulgence to times and rules of
devotion?
Could you take the one to be as true servants of God, as the
other? Could you imagine, that those who were thus different
in their lives, would find no difference in their states after
Could you think it a matter of indifferency, to which of these
people you were most like?
If not, let it be now your care, to join yourself to that number
of devout people, to that society of saints, amongst whom you
desire to be found, when you leave the world.
And although the bare number and repetition of our prayers is
of little value, yet since prayer rightly and attentively performed,
is the most natural means of amending and purifying our hearts;
since importunity and frequency in prayer is as much pressed
upon us by A Serious Call to
when we are frequent and importunate in our prayers, we are
taking the best means, of obtaining the highest benefits of a
devout life.
And on the other hand, they, who through negligence, lazi
ness, or any other indulgence, render themselves either unable, or
uninclined to observe rules and hours of devotion, we may be
sure, that they deprive themselves of those graces and blessings,
which an exact and fervent devotion procures from God.
Now as this frequency of prayer, is founded in the doctrines of
worshippers of God; so we ought not to think ourselves
excused from it, but where we can show, that we are spending
our time in such business, as is more acceptable to God, than
these returns of prayer.
Least of all must we dulness, negligence, indulgence, or
If you are of a devout spirit, you will rejoice at these returns
of prayer, which keep your
which change your
with stronger joys and consolations, than you can possibly meet
with in anything else.
And if you are not of a devout spirit, then you are moreover
obliged to this frequency of prayer, to train and exercise your
heart into a true sense and feeling of devotion.
Now seeing the holy
example of the saints of all ages, calls upon you thus to divide
the day into hours of prayer; so it will be highly beneficial to
you, to make a right choice of those matters, which are to be the
subject of your prayers, and to keep every hour of prayer appro
priated to some particular
enlarge, according as the state you are in requires.
By this means, you will have an opportunity of being large
and particular in all the parts of any
then make the subject of your prayers. And by asking for it in
all its parts, and making it the substance of a whole prayer once
every day, you will soon find a mighty change in your heart;
and that you cannot thus constantly pray, for all the parts of
any virtue every day of your life, and yet live the rest of the
day contrary to it.
If a worldly-minded man, was to pray every day against all the
instances of a worldly temper: If he should make a large description of the temptations of covetousness, and desire God to
The same will hold true in any other instance. And if we ask, and have not, ’tis
I have, in the last chapter, laid before you the excellency of
praise and thanksgiving, and recommended that as the subject of
your first devotions in the morning.
And because an humble state of soul, is the very state of Reli
gion, because humility is the life and soul of piety, the foundation
and support of every guard and
security of all holy affections;
you, as highly proper to be made the constant subject of your
devotions, at this third hour of the day; earnestly desiring you
to think no day safe, or likely to end well, in which you have not
thus early put yourself in this posture of humility, and called upon
God to carry you through the day, in the exercise of a meek and
lowly spirit.
This virtue is so essential to the right state of our
there is no pretending to a reasonable or
And although it is thus the soul and essence of all religious
duties, yet is it, generally speaking, the least understood, the least
regarded, the least intended, the least desired and sought after, of
all other virtues, amongst all sorts of Christians.
No people have more occasion to be afraid of the approaches
of pride, than those who have made some advances in a pious life.
For pride can grow as well upon our virtues, as our vices, and
Every good thought that we have, every good action that we
do, lays us open to pride, and exposes us to the assaults of vanity
and self-satisfaction.
It is not only the
our natural
devotions and alms, our fastings and humiliations, expose us to
fresh and strong temptations of this
And it is for this reason, that devout
person to begin every day in this exercise of humility, that he
may go on in safety under the protection of this good guide, and
not fall a sacrifice to his own progress in those virtues, which are
to save mankind from destruction.
Humility does not consist, in having a worse opinion of our
selves than we deserve, or in abasing ourselves lower than we
really are. But as all virtue is founded in truth, so humility is
The weakness of our state appears from our inability to do
anything, as of ourselves. In our natural state we are entirely
without any power; we are indeed active beings, but can only act
by a power, that is every moment lent us from God.
We have no more power of our own to move a hand, or stir a
foot, than to move the sun, or stop the clouds.
When we speak a word, we feel no more power in ourselves to
do it, than we feel ourselves able to raise the dead. For we act
no more within our own power, or by our own strength, when we
speak a word, or make a sound, than the Apostles acted within
their own power, or by their own strength, when a word from
their mouth cast out devils, and cured diseases.
As it was solely the power of God, that enabled them to speak
to such purposes, so it is solely the power of God that enables us
to speak at all.
We indeed find that we can speak, as we find that we are alive;
but the actual exercise of speaking is no more in our own power,
than the actual enjoyment of life.
This is the dependent, helpless poverty of our state; which is
a great reason for humility. For since we neither are, nor can
do anything of ourselves, to be proud of anything that we are,
or of anything that we can do, and to ascribe
for these things, as our own ornaments, has the guilt both of
stealing and lying. It has the guilt of stealing, as it gives to
ourselves those things which only belong to God. It has the
guilt of lying, as it is the denying the truth of our state, and
pretending to be something that we are not.
Secondly, Another argument for humility, is founded in the
misery of our condition.
Now the misery of our condition appears in this, that we use
these borrowed powers of our torment and vexation
of ourselves, and our fellow-creatures.
God Almighty has entrusted us with the use of
use it to the disorder and corruption of our nature. We reason
a Devout and Holy Life.
ourselves into all kinds of folly and misery, and make our lives
the sport of foolish and extravagant
a thousand wants, amusing our hearts with false hopes and
using the world worse than irrational animals, envying, vexing,
and tormenting one another with restless
able contentions.
Let any man but look back upon his own life, and see what
use he has made of his reason, how little he has consulted it, and
how less he has followed it. What foolish passions, what vain
thoughts, what needless labours, what extravagant projects, have
taken up the greatest part of his life. How foolish he has been
in his words and conversation; how seldom he has done well with
judgment, and how often he has been kept from doing ill by acci how seldom he has been able to
Let him but consider, that if the world knew all that of him,
which he knows of himself; if they saw what vanity and passions
govern his inside, and what secret tempers sully and corrupt his
best
and goodness and wisdom, than a
This is so true, and so known to the hearts of almost all
people, that nothing would appear more dreadful to them, than
to have their hearts thus fully discovered to the eyes of all
And perhaps there are very few people in the world, who would
not rather choose to die, than to have all their secret follies, the
errors of their vanity of their falseness
of their pretences, the frequency of their vain and disorderly
passions, their
And shall pride be entertained in a heart, thus conscious of its
own miserable behaviour?
Shall a creature in such a condition, that he could not support
himself under the shame of being known to the world in his real state; shall such a creature, because his shame is only known to
Thirdly, If to this we add the shame and guilt of
find a still greater reason for humility.
No creature that had lived in innocence, would have thereby
got any pretence for self-honour and esteem; because as a
creature, all that it is, or has, or does, is from God, and therefore
the
But if a creature that is a sinner, and under the displeasure of
the great governor of all the world, and deserving nothing from
him, but pains and punishments for the shameful abuse of his
powers; if such a creature pretends to self-glory for anything
that he is, or does, he can only be said to glory in his shame.
Now how monstrous and shameful the nature of sin is, is
sufficiently apparent from that great atonement, that is necessary
to cleanse us from the guilt of it.
Nothing less has been required to take away the guilt of our
sins, than the sufferings and death of the
not taken our
separated from God, and incapable of ever appearing before
him.
And is there any room for pride, or self-glory, whilst we are
partakers of such a nature as this?
Have our sins rendered us so
that made us, that he could not so much as receive our prayers,
or admit our repentance, till the
man, and became a suffering advocate for our whole race; and
can we in this state, pretend to high thoughts of ourselves? Shall
we presume to take delight in our own worth, who are not
worthy so much as to ask pardon for our sins, without the
mediation and intercession of the
Thus deep is the foundation of humility laid, in these de
plorable circumstances of our condition; which show, that it is
as great an offence against
man in this state of things, to lay claim to any degrees of
as to pretend to the honour of creating himself. If man will
boast of anything as his own, he must boast of his misery and
sin; for there is nothing else but this, that is his own property.
Turn your eyes towards heaven, and fancy that you saw what
is doing there; that you saw cherubims and seraphims, and all
the glorious inhabitants of that place, all united in one work;
not seeking glory from one another, not labouring their own
advancement, not contemplating their own perfections, not
Then turn your eyes to the fallen world, and consider how
unreasonable and odious it must be, for such poor worms, such
miserable sinners, to take delight in their own
whilst the
no other greatness and honour, but that of ascribing all honour
and greatness, and glory to God alone?
Pride is only the disorder of the fallen world, it has no place
amongst other beings; it can only subsist where ignorance and
sensuality, lies and
Let a man, when he is most delighted with his own figure,
look upon a crucifix, and contemplate our blessed Lord stretched
out, and nailed upon a Cross; and then let him consider, how
absurd it must be, for a heart full of pride and vanity, to pray to
God, through the sufferings of such a meek and crucified
Saviour?
These are the reflections that you are often to meditate upon,
that you may thereby be disposed to walk before God and man,
in such a spirit of humility, as becomes the weak, miserable, sinful state of all that are descended from fallen
When you have by such general reflections as these, convinced
your mind of the
content yourself with this, as if you were therefore humble,
because your mind acknowledges the reasonableness of humility,
and declares against pride. But you must immediately enter
yourself into the practice of this young beginner,
that has all of it to learn, that can learn but little at a time, and
with great difficulty. You must consider, that you have not
only this virtue to learn, but that you must be content to
proceed as a learner in it all your time, endeavouring after greater
degrees of it, and practising every day acts of humility, as you
every day practise a
You would not
your judgment you approved of prayers, and often declared
your mind in favour of devotion. Yet how many people
imagine themselves humble enough, for no other reason, but
because they often commend humility, and make vehement
declarations against pride?
Cæcus is a rich man, of good birth, and very fine parts. He is
fond of dress, curious in the smallest matters that can add any
ornament to his person. He is haughty and imperious to all his
* A Serious Call to
inferiors, is very full of everything that he says, or does, and
never imagines it possible, for such a judgment as his to be
mistaken. He can bear no contradiction, and discovers the
weakness of your understanding, as soon as ever you oppose
him. He changes everything in his house, his habit, and his
equipage, as often as anything more elegant comes in his way.
Cæcus would have been very religious, but that he always
thought he was so.
There is nothing so odious to Cæcus as a proud man; and the
misfortune is, that in this he is so very quick-sighted, that he
discovers in almost everybody, some strokes of vanity.
On the other hand, he is exceeding fond of humble and
modest persons. Humility, says he, is so amiable a quality, that
it forces our esteem wherever we meet with it. There is no
possibility of despising the meanest person that has it, or of
esteeming the greatest man that wants it.
Cæcus no more suspects himself to be proud, than he suspects
his want of sense. And the reason of it is, because he always
finds himself so in love with humility, and so enraged at pride.
It is very true, Cæcus, you speak sincerely, when you say you
love humility, and abhor pride. You are no hypocrite, you
speak the true sentiments of your mind; but then take this
along with you, Cæcus, that you only love humility, and hate
pride, in other people. You never once in your life thought of
any other humility, or of any other pride, than that which you
have seen in other people.
The case of Cæcus is a common case; many people live in all
the instances of pride, and indulge every vanity that can enter
into their
governed by pride and vanity, because they know how much
they dislike proud people, and how mightily they are pleased
with humility and modesty, wherever they find them.
All their speeches in favour of humility, and all their railings
against pride, are looked upon as so many true exercises, and
effects of their own humble spirit.
Whereas in truth, these are so far from being proper
proofs of humility, that they are great arguments of the want
of it.
For the fuller of pride anyone is himself, the more impatient
will he be at the smallest instances of it in other people. And
the less humility anyone has in his own mind, the more will he
demand, and be delighted with it in other people.
You must therefore act by a quite contrary measure, and
reckon yourself only so far humble, as you impose every instance
of humility upon yourself, and never call for it in other people.
a Devout and Holy Life.
So far an enemy to pride, as you never spare it in yourself, nor
ever censure it in other persons.
Now in order to do this, you need only consider, that pride
and humility signify nothing to you, but so far as they are your
own; that they do you neither good nor harm, but as they are
the tempers of your heart.
The loving therefore of humility is of no benefit or advantage
to you, but so far as you love to see all your own thoughts, words,
and actions governed by it. And the hating of pride does you
no good, is no
any degree of it in your own heart.
Now in order to begin, and set out well in the practice of humi
lity, you must take it for granted that you are proud, that you
have all your life been more or less infected with this unreason
able temper.
You should believe also, that it is your greatest weakness, that
your heart is most subject to it, that it is so constantly stealing
upon you, that you have reason to watch and suspect its ap
proaches in all your actions.
For this is what most people, especially new beginners in a
pious life, may with great truth think of themselves.
For there is no one
everything that we think or do. There being hardly anything in
the world that we want or use, or any action or duty of life, but
pride finds some means or other to take hold of it. So that at
what time soever we begin to offer ourselves to God, we can
hardly be surer of anything than that we have a great deal of
pride to repent of.
If therefore you find it disagreeable to your mind, to entertain
this opinion of yourself, and that you cannot put yourself amongst
those that want to be cured of pride, you may be as sure, as if
an Angel from heaven had told you, that you have not only much,
For you can have no greater sign of a more confirmed pride,
than when you think that you are humble enough. He that
thinks he loves God enough, shows himself to be an entire
stranger to that holy
enough, shows that he is not so much as a beginner in the prac
tice of true humility.
EVERY person, when he first applies himself to the
exercise of this virtue of humility, must, as
consider himself as a learner, that is to learn something
that is contrary to former tempers and habits of mind,
and which can only be got by daily and constant practice.
He has not only as much to do, as he that has some new
or science to learn, but he has also a great deal to
He must lay aside his own
sin, so in
He must lay aside the opinions and
received from the world; because the vogue and fashion of the
world, by which we have been carried away, as in a torrent, before
we could pass right judgments of the value of things, is, in many
respects, contrary to humility: so that we must unlearn what the
spirit of the world has taught us, before we can be governed by
the spirit of humility.
The Devil is called in
cause he has great power in it, because many of its
principles are invented by this
falsehood, to separate us from God, and prevent our return to
happiness.
Now according to the spirit and vogue of this world, whose
corrupt air we have all breathed, there are many things that
pass for great and honourable, and most desirable, which yet are
so far from being so, that the true greatness and honour of our
To abound in wealth, to have fine houses, and rich clothes, to
be beautiful in our persons, to have titles of dignity, to be above
a Devout and Holy Life.
our fellow-creatures, to command the bows and obeisance of
other people, to be looked on with
enemies with power, to subdue all that oppose us, to set out our
selves in as much splendour as we can, to live highly and magni
ficently, to eat and drink, and delight ourselves in the most
costly manner, these are the great, the honourable, the desirable
things, to which the spirit of the world turns the eyes of all
people. And many a man is afraid of standing still, and not
engaging in the pursuit of these things, lest the same world should
take him for a fool.
The history of the
conquest over this spirit of the world. And the number of true
Christians, is only the number of those, who following the Spirit
of Christ, have lived contrary to this
‘If any man hath not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.’
Again, ‘Whosoever is born of God, overcometh the world. Set
your affections on things above, and not on things on the earth;
for ye are dead, and your life is hid with
is the mark
of dead, that is, dead to the spirit and
temper of the world, and live a new life in the Spirit of Jesus Christ.
But notwithstanding the clearness and plainness of these doc
trines which thus renounce the world, yet great part of Christians
live and die slaves to the customs and temper of the world.
How many people swell with pride and vanity, for such things
as they would not know how to value at all, but that they are
admired in the world?
Would a man take ten years more drudgery in business to add
two horses more to his coach, but that he knows, that the world
most of all admires a coach and six? How fearful are many
people of having their houses poorly furnished, or themselves
meanly clothed, for this only reason, lest the world should make
no account of them, and place them amongst low and mean
people?
How often would a man have yielded to the haughtiness and
ill-nature of others, and shown a submissive temper, but that he
dares not pass for such a poor-spirited man in the opinion of the
world?
Many a man would often drop a resentment, and forgive an
affront, but that he is afraid, if he should, the world would not
forgive him?
How many would practise Christian temperance and sobriety in
its utmost perfection, were it not for the censure which the world
Others have frequent intentions of living up to the rules of
Thus do the impressions which we have received from living
in the world enslave our
eminent in the sight of God, and holy
little in the eyes of the world.
From this quarter arises the greatest difficulty of humility,
because it cannot subsist in any mind, but so far as it is dead to
the world, and has parted with all
ness and
must unlearn all those notions, which you have been all your life
learning from this corrupt spirit of the world.
You can make no stand against the assaults of pride, the meek
affections of humility can have no place in your soul, till you
stop the power of the world over you, and resolve against a
blind obedience to its laws.
And when you are once advanced thus far, as to be able to
stand still in the torrent of worldly fashions and opinions, and,
examine the worth and value of things which are most admired
and valued in the world, you have gone a great way in the gain
ing of your
amendment of your heart.
For as great as the power of the world is, it is all built upon a
blind obedience, and we need only open our eyes, to get rid of its
power.
Ask who you will, learned or
Who will not own, that the Philosophy, the piety of
The world therefore seems enough condemned, even by itself, to
make it very easy for a thinking man to be of the same judgment.
And therefore hard saying, that
in order to be humble, you must withdraw your obedience from
that vulgar spirit, which gives laws to Fops and Coquettes, and
form your judgments according to the wisdom of Philosophy,
and the piety of Religion. Who would be afraid of making such
a change as this?
Again, To lessen your
world, think how soon the world will disregard you, and have no
more thought or concern about you, than about the poorest animal that died in a
Your friends, if they can, may bury you with some distinction,
and set up a monument, to let posterity see that your dust lies
under such a Stone; and when that is done, all is done. Your
place is filled up by another, the world is just in the same state
it was, you are blotted out of its sight, and as much forgotten
by the world, as if you had never belonged to it.
Think upon the rich, the great, and the learned persons, that
Think again, how many poor souls see heaven lost, and lie
now expecting a miserable eternity, for their service and homage
to a world, that thinks itself every whit as well without them,
and is just as merry as it was, when they were in it.
Is it therefore worth your while to lose the smallest degree of
bad a master, and so false a friend as the world is?
Is it worth your while to bow the knee to such an idol as this,
that so soon will have neither eyes, nor ears, nor a heart to
regard you, instead of serving that great, and holy, and mighty
God, that will make all his servants partakers of his own
eternity?
Will you let the
keep you from the fear of that God who has only created you,
that he may love and bless you to all eternity?
Lastly, you must consider what behaviour the profession of
Christianity requireth of you, with regard to the world.
Now this is plainly delivered in these words: ‘Who gave
himself for our
evil world.’*
this world; and he that professeth it, professeth to live contrary
to everything, and every temper, that is peculiar to this evil
world.
St. John declareth this opposition to the
*
St. Paul takes it for a certainty, so well known to Christians,
Our
these words: ‘They are not of this world, as I am not of this
world.’ This is the state of
world. If you are not thus out of, and contrary to the world,
you want the distinguishing mark of Christianity; you do not
belong to
of it.
We may deceive ourselves, if we please, with vain and
softening comments upon these words, but they are, and will be
understood in their first simplicity and plainness, by everyone
that reads them in the same spirit that our blessed Lord spoke
them. And to understand them in any lower, less significant
meaning, is to let carnal wisdom explain away that doctrine, by
which itself was to be destroyed.
The Christian’s great conquest over the world, is all contained
in the mystery of Cross. It was there, and
from thence, that he taught all Christians how they were to come
out of, and conquer the world, and what they were to do in
order to be his Disciples. And all the doctrines, sacraments, and
institutions of the
meaning, and applications of the benefit of this great mystery.
And the state of Christianity implieth nothing else, but an
entire, absolute conformity to that spirit, which
Every man therefore is only so far a Christian, as he partakes
*a Devout and Holy Life.
of this spirit of Christ. It was this that made St. Paul so
Thus was the cross of Christ, in St. Paul’s days, the glory of
To have a true idea of
our stead, but as our representative,
acting in our name, and with such particular merit, as to make
our joining with him acceptable unto God.
He suffered, and was a sacrifice, to make our sufferings and
sacrifice of ourselves fit to be received by God. And we are to
suffer, to be crucified, to die, and rise with
crucifixion, death, and resurrection will profit us nothing.
The necessity of this conformity to all that
suffered upon our account, is very plain from the whole tenor
of
First, as to his sufferings, this is the only condition of our
being saved by them, ‘if we suffer with him, we shall also reign
with him.’
Secondly, as to his Crucifixion: ‘Knowing this, that our old
man is crucified with him,† &c. Here you see,
crucified in our stead; but unless our old man be really crucified
with him, the cross of Christ will profit us nothing.
Thirdly, as to the
be dead with
him.’ If therefore Christ be dead alone, if we are not dead
* A Serious Call to
with him, we are as sure from this Scripture, that we shall not
live with him.
Lastly, as to the resurrection of Christ, the
us how we are to partake of the benefit of it: ‘If ye be risen
with
sitteth on the right hand of God.’*
Thus you see, how plainly the
representative acting and suffering in our name,
binding and obliging us to conform to all that he did and
suffered for us.
It was for this reason, that the holy
and in them of all true believers, ‘They are not of this world,
as I am not of this world.’ Because all true believers con
forming to the sufferings, crucifixion, death, and resurrection of
but their life is hid with Christ in God.
This is the state of separation from the world, to which all
orders of Christians are called. They must so far renounce all
worldly tempers, be so far governed by the things of another
life, as to show, that they are truly and really crucified, dead, and
risen with
conform to this great change of new
creatures, as it was necessary that
How high the Christian life is placed above the ways of this
world, is wonderfully described by St. Paul in these words:
He that feels the force and spirit of these words, can hardly
bear any human interpretation of them. Henceforth, says he,
that is, since the death and resurrection of
Christianity is become so glorious a state, that we do not even
consider
of glory in heaven; we know and consider ourselves not as men
in the flesh, but as fellow-members of a new
have all our hearts, our
Thus is it that
the
the tempers of the world.
Now as it was the spirit of the world that nailed our blessed
*a Devout and Holy Life.
cross; so every man that has the spirit of Christ
that opposes the world as he did, will certainly be crucified by
the world some way or other.
For Christianity still lives in the same world that
and these two will be utter enemies, till the kingdom of darkness
is entirely at an end.
Had you lived with our
then been hated as he was; and if you now live in his spirit, the
world will be the same enemy to you now, that it was to him
then.
‘If ye were of the world,’ saith our
would love its own; but because ye are not of the world, but I
have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth
you.’*
We are apt to lose the true meaning of these words, by
considering them only as an historical description, of something
that was the state of our
But this is reading the dead letter; for they
exactly describe the state of true Christians at this, and all other
times, to the end of the world.
For as true Christianity is nothing else but the spirit of
Christ, so whether that spirit appear in the person of
himself, or his
thing; whoever hath his spirit, will be hated, despised, and con
demned by the world, as he was.
For the world will always love its own, and none but its own:
this is as certain and unchangeable, as the contrariety betwixt
light and darkness.
When the holy
not add by way of consolation, that it may some time or other
cease its hatred, or that it will not always hate them; but he
only gives this as a reason for their hearing it, ‘You know that
it hated me, before it hated you:’ signifying, that it was he, that
is, his spirit, that by reason of its contrariety to the world, was
then, and always would be hated by it.
You will perhaps say, that the world is now become Christian,
at least that part of it where we live; and therefore the world is
not now to be considered in that state of opposition to Chris
tianity, as when it was heathen.
It is granted, the world now professeth Christianity. But will
anyone say, that this Christian world is of the
Are its general, tempers the tempers of
*A Serious Call to
and
they are amongst Christians, than when they were amongst
the heathen world are lost and gone?
Consider, secondly, what you are to mean by the world. Now
this is fully described to our hands by St. John. ‘All that is in
It was this world that St. John condemned, as being not of the
And indeed the world by professing Christianity, is so far
from being a less dangerous enemy than it was before, that it
has by its favours destroyed more Christians, than ever it did by
the most violent persecution.
We must therefore be so far from considering the world as in
a state of less enmity and opposition to Christianity, than it was
in the first times of the
a greater and more dangerous enemy now, than it was in those
times.
It is a greater enemy, because it has greater power over
Christians by its favours, riches, honours, rewards and pro
tections, than it had by the fire and fury of its persecutions.
It is a more dangerous enemy, by having lost its appearance
of enmity. Its outward profession of Christianity makes it no
longer considered as an enemy, and therefore the generality of
people are easily persuaded, to resign themselves up to be
governed and directed by it.
How many consciences are kept at quiet, upon no other
foundation, but because they sin under the authority of the
Christian world?
How many directions of the
how unconcernedly do particular persons read them, for no
other reason, but because they seem unregarded by the Christian
world?
How many compliances do people make to the Christian
world, without any hesitation, or remorse; which if they had
been required of them only by heathens, would have been
refused, as contrary to the holiness of Christianity.
*
Who could be content with seeing how contrary his life is to
the Gospel, but because he sees, that he lives as the Christian
Who that reads the
necessity of great self-denial, humility, and poverty of spirit, but
that the authority of the world has banished this doctrine of the
cross?
There is nothing therefore, that a good Christian ought to be
more suspicious of, or more constantly guard against, than the
authority of the Christian world.
And all the passages of
as contrary to Christianity, which require our separation from it,
as from a Mammon of unrighteousness, a monster of iniquity, are
all to be taken in the same strict sense, in relation to the present
world.
For the change that the world has undergone, has only altered
its methods, but not lessened its power of destroying Religion.
Christians had nothing to fear from the heathen world, but the
Whilst pride, sensuality, covetousness, and ambition, had only
the authority of the heathen world, Christians were thereby made
more intent upon the contrary
suality, covetousness, and ambition, have the authority of the
Christian world, then private Christians are in the utmost danger,
not only of being shamed out of the practice, but of losing the
very notion of the piety of the
There is therefore hardly any possibility of saving yourself
from the present world, but by considering it as the same wicked enemy, to all true holiness, as it is represented in the Scriptures;
For only ask yourself, Is the piety, the humility, the sobriety of
the Christian world, the piety, the humility, and sobriety of the
Christian spirit? If not, how can you be more undone by any
world, than by conforming to that which is Christian?
Need a man do more to make his
God, than by being greedy and ambitious of
can a man renounce this temper, without renouncing the spirit
and temper of the world, in which you now live.
How can a man be made more incapable of the spirit of
Christ, than by a wrong value for money; and yet how can he be
more wrong in his value of it, than by following the authority of
the Christian world?
Nay, in every order and station of life, whether of learning or
And though human prudence seems to talk mighty wisely about
the necessity of avoiding particularities, yet he that dares not be
so weak as to be particular, will be often obliged to avoid the
most substantial duties of Christian piety.
These reflections will,
difficulties, and resist those temptations, which the authority and
fashion of the world have raised against the practice of Christian humility.
ANOTHER difficulty in the practice of humility, arises
from our education. We are all of us, for the most
part corruptly educated, and then committed to take
our course in a corrupt world; so that it is no wonder,
if examples of great piety are so seldom seen.
Great part of the world are undone, by being born and bred in
families that have no Religion; where they are made
irregular, by being like those with whom they first lived.
But this is not the thing
here intend, is such as children generally receive from
and parents, and learned tutors and governors.
Had we continued
perhaps the perfection of our selfinstruction for everyone. But as
And as the only end of the physician is, to restore nature to
a Devout and Holy Life.
its own state, so the only end of education is, to restore our
rational nature to its proper state. Education therefore is to be
considered as reason borrowed at second hand, which is, as far as
it can, to supply the loss of original perfection. And as physic
may justly be called the art of restoring health, so education
should be considered in no other light, than as the art of recover
ing to man the use of his reason.
Now as the instruction of every art or
All therefore that great saints, and dying men, when the fullest
of light and conviction, and after the highest improvement of
their reason, all that they have said of the necessity of piety, of
the excellency of virtue, of their duty to God, of the emptiness
of riches, of the vanity of the world; all the sentences, judgments, reasonings, and maxims of the wisest of
This is the only way to make the young and ignorant part of
the world the better for the wisdom, and knowledge of the wise
and
An wholly intent upon this, is as much
beside the point, as an art of Physic, that had little or no regard
to the restoration of health.
The youths that attended upon
and Epictetus, were thus educated. Their everyday lessons and
Now as moral and
As it has introduced such a new state of things, and so fully
informed us of the nature of man, the ends of his creation, the
state of his condition; as it has fixed all our goods and evils,
A Serious Call to
taught us the means of purifying our
becoming eternally happy; one might naturally suppose, that
every Christian Country abounded with schools for the teaching,
not only a few questions and answers of a Catechism, but for the
An education under Pythagoras, or
And is it not as reasonable to suppose, that a Christian educa
tion should have no other end, but to teach youth how to think,
and judge, and act, and live according to the strictest laws of
Christianity?
At least, one would suppose, that in all Christian schools, the
teaching youth to begin their lives in the spirit of Christianity, in
such severity of behaviour, such abstinence, sobriety, humility, and
devotion, as Christianity requires, should not only be more, but
an hundred times more regarded, than any, or all things else.
For our education should imitate our guardian angels, suggest
nothing to our wise and holy; help us to
discover and subdue every vain passion of our hearts, and every
false judgment of our
And it is as sober and reasonable, to expect and require all this
benefit of a Christian education, as to require that physic should
strengthen all that is right in our nature, and remove that which
is sickly and diseased.
But alas, our modern education is not of this kind.
The first temper that we try to awaken in pride;
as dangerous a lust. We stir them up to vain
thoughts of themselves, and do everything we can, to puff up
their minds with a
Whatever way of life we intend them for, we apply to the fire
and vanity of their minds, and exhort them to everything from
corrupt motives: We stir them up to action from principles of
strife and ambition, from glory, envy, and a desire of distinction,
We repeat and inculcate these motives upon them, till they
think it a part of their duty to be proud, envious, and vainglorious of their own
And when we have taught them to scorn to be outdone by
any, to bear no rival, to thirst after every instance of applause,
to be content with nothing but the highest distinctions; then we
begin to take comfort in them, and promise the world some
mighty things from youths of such a glorious spirit.
If children are intended for holy orders, we set before them
some eminent orator, whose fine preaching has made him the
admiration of the age, and carried him through all the
We encourage them to have these honours in their eye, and to
expect the reward of their studies from them.
If the youth is intended for a trade; we bid him look at all
the rich men of the same trade, and consider how many now are
carried about in their stately coaches, who began in the same low
degree as he now does. We awaken his ambition, and endeavour
to give his mind a right turn, by often telling him how very rich
such and such a tradesman died.
If he is to be a lawyer, then we set great Counsellors, Lords
Judges, and Chancellors, before his eyes. We tell him what
fees, and great applause attend fine pleading. We exhort him to
take fire at these things, to raise a spirit of emulation in him
self, and to be content with nothing less than the highest
honours of the long Robe.
That this is the nature of our best education, is too plain to
need any proof; and I believe there are few parents, but would
be glad to see these instructions daily given to their children.
And after all this, we complain of the effects of pride; we
wonder to see grown men acted and governed by ambition, envy, scorn, and a
You teach a scorn to be outdone, to thirst for distinction and
Now if a youth is ever to be so far a Christian, as to govern
his heart by the doctrines of humility, I would fain know at what time he is to begin it; or if he is
How dry and poor must the doctrine of humility sound to a
youth, that has been spurred up to all his industry by ambition, envy, emulation, and a desire of
Envy is acknowledged by all people to be the most
And is this a temper to be instilled, nourished and established
in the minds of young people?
envy, but emulation, that is
intended to be awakened in the minds of young men.
But this is vainly said. For when A Serious Call to
no rival, and to scorn to be outdone by any of their age, they
are plainly and directly taught to be envious. For it is impos
sible for anyone to have this scorn of being outdone, and this
contention with rivals, without burning with envy against all
those that seem to excel him, or get any distinction from him.
So that what children are taught is rank envy, and only covered
with a name of a less odious sound.
Secondly, if envy is thus confessedly bad, and it be only
emulation that is endeavoured to be awakened in children, surely
there ought to be great care taken, that children may know the
one from the other. That they may abominate the one as a
great crime, whilst they give the other admission into their minds.
But if this were to be attempted, the fineness of the distinction
betwixt envy and emulation, would show that it was easier to
divide them in words, than to separate them in
For emulation, when it is defined in its best manner, is nothing
else but a refinement upon envy, or rather the most plausible part
of that black and venomous passion.
And though it is easy to separate them in the notion, yet the
most acute Philosopher, that understands the art of distin
For envy is not an original temper, but the natural, necessary,
and unavoidable effect of emulation, or a desire of glory.
So that he who establishes the one in the minds of people,
necessarily fixes the other there. And there is no other possible
way of destroying envy, but by destroying emulation, or a desire
of glory. For the one always rises and falls in proportion to the
other.
ambition, and a desire of glory, are necessary to excite young
people to industry; and that if we were to press upon them the
doctrines of humility, we should deject their minds, and sink
them into dulness and idleness.
But these people who say this, do not consider, that this
reason, if it has any strength, is full as strong against pressing
the doctrines of humility upon grown men, lest we should deject
their
For who does not see, that middle-aged men want as much the
assistance of pride, ambition, and vain-glory, to spur them up to
action and industry, as children do? And it is very certain, that
the precepts of humility are more contrary to the designs of such
men, and more grievous to their
upon them, than they are to the minds of young persons.
This reason therefore that is given, why a Devout and Holy Life.
trained up in the principles of true humility, is as good a reason
why the same humility should never be required of grown men.
Thirdly, Let those people, who think that children would be
spoiled, if they were not thus educated, consider this.
Could they think, that if any children had been educated by
our blessed
have been sunk into dulness and idleness?
Or could they think, that such children would not have been
trained up in the profoundest principles of a strict and true
humility? Can they say that our blessed Lord, who was the
meekest and humblest man that ever was on earth, was hindered
by his humility from being the greatest example of worthy and
glorious actions, that ever was done by man?
Can they say that his Apostles, who lived in the humble spirit
of their master, did therefore cease to be laborious and active
instruments of doing good to all the world?
A few such reflections as these, are sufficient to expose all the
poor pretences for an education in pride and ambition.
Paternus lived about two hundred years ago; he had but one
son, whom he educated himself in his own house. As they were
sitting together in the Garden, when the child was ten years old,
Paternus thus began to him.
The little time that you have been in the world, my child, you
have spent wholly with me; and my love and
has made you look upon me as your only friend and benefactor,
and the cause of all the comfort and pleasure that you enjoy:
Your heart, I know, would be ready to break with
thought this was the last day that I should live with you.
But, my child, though you now think yourself mighty happy,
because you have hold of my hand, you are now in the hands,
and under the tender care of a much greater father and
than I am, whose love to you is far greater than mine, and from
whom you receive such blessings as no mortal can give.
That God whom you have seen me daily worship, whom I
daily call upon to bless both you and me, and all mankind,
whose wondrous acts are recorded in those Scriptures which you
constantly read; that God who created the heavens and the
earth, who brought a flood upon the old world, who saved
in the Ark, who was the God of Abraham, Isaac and
I myself am not half the age of this shady Oak, under which
we sit; many of our fathers have sat under its boughs, we have
all of us called it ours in our turn, though it stands, and drops
its masters, as it drops its leaves.
You see, my son, this wide and large Firmament over our
heads, where the Sun and Moon, and all the Stars appear in
their turns. If you were to be carried up to any of these
at this vast distance from us, you would still discover others, as
much above you, as the Stars that you see here are above the
Earth. Were you to go up or down, East or West, North or
South, you would find the same height without any top, and the
same depth without any bottom.
And yet, my child, so great is God, that all these bodies added
together, are but as a grain of sand in his sight. And yet you
are as much the care of this great God and Father of all worlds,
and all spirits, as if he had no son but you, or there were no crea
How poor my power is, and how little I am able to do for you,
you have often seen. Your late sickness has shown you, how
little I could do for you in that state; and the frequent pains of
your head are plain proofs, that I have no power to remove them.
I can bring you food and medicines, but have no power to turn
them into your relief and nourishment. It is God alone that can
do this for you.
Therefore, my child, fear, and worship, and love God. Your
eyes indeed cannot yet see him. But every thing you see, are so
many marks of his power and presence, and he is nearer to you,
than anything that you can see.
Take him for your Lord, and Father, and Friend; look up
Your youth and little
family, and therefore you think there is no happiness out of it.
But, my child, you belong to a greater Family than mine, you
are a young member of the family of this Almighty Father of all
Nations, who has created infinite order of Angels, and number
less generations of men, to be fellow-members of one and the
same
You do well to reverence and obey my authority, because God
has given me power over you, to bring you up in his fear, and to
do for you, as the holy fathers recorded in
children, who are now in rest and peace with God.
I shall in a short time die, and leave you to God, and yourself,
and if God forgiveth my
and live amongst Patriarchs and Prophets, Saints and Martyrs,
where I shall pray for you, and hope for your safe arrival at the
same place.
Therefore, my child, meditate on these great things, and your
soul will soon grow great and noble by so meditating upon them.
Let your thoughts often leave these gardens, these fields and
farms, to contemplate upon God and Heaven, to consider upon
Angels, and the spirits of good men living in light and glory.
As you have been used to look to me in all your actions, and
have been afraid to do anything, unless you first knew my will,
so let it now be a rule of your life, to look up to God in all your
thing that is not according to his will.
Bear him always in your mind, teach your thoughts to rever
ence him in every place, for there is no place where he is not.
God keepeth a book of life, wherein all the actions of all men
are written; your name is there, my child, and when you die,
this book will be laid open before men and angels, and according
as your actions are there found, you will either be received to the
away amongst wicked spirits, that are never to see God any more.
Never forget this book, my son, for it is written, it must be
opened, you must see it, and you must be tried by it. Strive
therefore to fill it with your good deeds, that the handwriting of
God may not appear against you.
God, my child, is all love, and
When you love that which God loves, you act with him, you
join yourself to him; and when you love what he dislikes, then
you oppose him, and separate yourself from him. This is the true
A Serious Call to
and the right way; think what God loves, and do you love it with
all your heart.
First of all, my child, worship and adore God, think of him
adore his power, frequent his service, and pray unto him fre
quently and constantly.
Next to this, love your neighbour, which is all mankind, with
such tenderness and affection, as you love yourself. Think how
God loves all mankind, how merciful he is to them, how tender
he is of them, how carefully he preserves them, and then strive
to love the world, as God loves it.
God would have all men to he happy, therefore do you will,
and desire the same. All men are great instances of divine love,
therefore let all men be instances of your love.
But above all, my son, mark this, never do anything through
strife, or
in order to excel other people, but in order to please God, and
because it is his will, that you should do everything in the best
manner that you can.
For if it is once a pleasure to you to excel other people, it will
by degrees be a pleasure to you, to see other people not so good
as yourself.
Banish therefore every thought of self-pride, and self-distinction,
and accustom yourself to rejoice in all the excellencies and per
fections of your fellow-creatures, and be as glad to see any of
their good actions, as your own.
For as God is as well pleased with their well doings, as with
yours, so you ought to desire, that everything that is wise, and
holy, and good, may be performed in as high a manner by other
people, as by yourself.
Let this therefore be your only motive and spur to all good
actions, honest industry, and business, to do everything in as
because it is pleasing to God, who desires your perfection, and
writes all your actions in a book. When I am dead, my son,
you will be master of all my estate, which will be a great deal
more than the necessities of one family require. Therefore as
you are to be charitable to the souls of men, and wish them the
same happiness with you in heaven, so be charitable to their
As God has created all things for the common good of all men,
so let that part of them which is fallen to your share, be employed
as God would have all employed, for the common good of all.
Do good, my son, first of all to those that most deserve it, but
remember to do good to all. The greatest sinners receive daily
a Devout and Holy Life.
instances of God’s goodness towards them, he nourishes and pre
serves them, that they may repent and return to him; do you
therefore
relief and kindness, when you see that he wants it.
I am teaching you Latin and Greek, not that you should desire
But I teach you these languages, that at proper times you may
look into the
ancient Sages, you may see how
the praise of great men of all ages, and fortify your mind by
these wise sayings.
Let
your
as they deserve, to choose everything that is best, to live accord
ing to
conformity to the will of God.
Study how to fill your heart full of the love of God, and the
As true Religion is nothing else but simple
right reason, so it loves and requires great plainness and sim
plicity of life. Therefore avoid all superfluous shows of finery
and equipage, and let your house be plainly furnished with
moderate conveniences. Do not consider what your estate can
afford, but what right reason requires.
Let your dress be sober, clean, and modest, not to set out the
that your outward garb may resemble the inward plainness and
simplicity of your heart. For it is highly reasonable, that you
should be one man, all of a piece, and appear outwardly such as
you are inwardly.
As to your meat and drink, in them observe the highest rules
of Christian temperance and sobriety; consider your
as the servant and minister of your
as may best perform an humble and obedient service to it.
But, my son, observe this as a most principal thing, which I
shall remember you of as long as I live with you.
Hate and despise all human glory, for it is nothing else but
human folly. It is the greatest snare, and the greatest betrayer
that you can possibly admit into your heart.
Love humility in all its instances, practise it in all its parts,
for it is the noblest state of the soul of man; it will set your
heart and affections right towards God, and fill you with every
temper that is tender and affectionate towards men.
Let every day therefore be a day of humility, condescend to
all the weakness, and infirmities of your fellow-creatures, cover
their frailties, love their excellencies, encourage their virtues,
relieve their wants, rejoice in their prosperities,
their distress; receive their
forgive their
do the lowest offices to the lowest of mankind.
Aspire after nothing but your own purity and
have no ambition, but to do everything in so reasonable and reli
gious a manner, that you may be glad that God is everywhere
present, and sees and observes all your actions. The greatest
trial of humility, is an humble behaviour towards your equals in
age, estate, and condition of life. Therefore be careful of all the
motions of your heart towards these people. Let all your be
haviour towards them be governed by unfeigned
desire to put any of your equals below you, nor any anger at
those that would put themselves above you. If they are proud,
they are ill of a very bad distemper, let them therefore have your
tender pity; and perhaps your meekness may prove an occasion
of their cure. But if your humility should do them no good, it
will however be the greatest good that you can do to yourself.
Remember that there is but one man in the world, with whom
you are to have perpetual contention, and be always striving to
exceed him, and that is yourself.
The time of practising these precepts, my child, will soon be
over with you, the world will soon slip through your hands, or
rather you will soon slip through it; it seems but the other day
since I received these same instructions from my dear Father,
that I am now leaving with you. And the God that gave me ears
to hear, and a heart to receive what my Father said unto me, will,
I hope, give you
Thus did Paternus educate his son.
Can anyone now think that such an
weaken and deject the
world of any worthy and reasonable labours?
It is so far from that, that there is nothing so likely to ennoble,
and exalt the mind, and prepare it for the most heroical exercise
of all virtues.
For who will say, that a
a love of our neighbour, a love of
contemplation of eternity, and the rewards of piety, are not
a Devout and Holy Life.
stronger motives to great and good
tain popular praise.
On the other hand, there is nothing in reality that more
weakens the mind, and reduces it to meanness and slavery,
nothing that makes it less master of its own actions, or less cap
able of following reason, than a love of praise and honour.
For as praise and things and persons,
where they are not due, as that is generally most praised and
honoured, that most gratifies the humours, fashions, and vicious
tempers of the world; so he that acts upon the
and applause, must part with every other principle; he must say
black is white, put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter, and do
the meanest, basest things, in order to be applauded.
For in a corrupt world, as this is, worthy actions are only to
be supported by their own worth, where instead of being praised
and honoured, they are most often reproached, and persecuted.
So that to educate emulation, or a
desire of glory, in a world where glory itself is false, and most
commonly given wrong, is to destroy the natural integrity and
fortitude of their minds, and give them a bias, which will oftener
carry them to base and mean, than great and
THAT turn of mind which is taught and encouraged in
the education of daughters, makes it exceeding
difficult for them to enter into such a
practice of humility, as the spirit of
requires.
The right education of this sex, is of the utmost importance to
human life. There is nothing that is more desirable for the
common good of all the world. For though women do not carry
For as the health and strength, or weakness of our
very much owing to their methods of treating us when we were
young; so the soundness or folly of our minds, are not less
owing to those first tempers and ways of thinking, which we
love, tenderness, authority, and constant
As we call our first mother-tongue, so we may as
justly call our first tempers our mother-tempers; and perhaps it
may be found more easy to forget the language, than to part
entirely with those tempers which we learnt in the nursery.
It is therefore much to be lamented, that this sex, on whom so
much depends, who have the first forming both of our bodies and
our minds, are not only educated in pride, but in the silliest and
most contemptible part of it.
They are not indeed suffered to dispute with us the proud
prizes of arts and
Now if a fondness for our persons, a desire of beauty, a love of
dress, be a part of pride (as surely it is a most contemptible part
of it) the first step towards a woman’s humility, seems to require
a repentance of her
For it must be owned, that, generally speaking, good parents
are never more fond of their daughters, than when they see them
too fond of themselves, and dressed in such a manner, as is a
great reproach to the gravity and sobriety of the Christian life.
And what makes this matter still more to be lamented, is this,
That
that part of the world, which would otherwise furnish most instances of an eminent and exalted piety.
For I believe it may be affirmed, that for the most part there
is a finer sense, a
All which tempers, if they were truly improved by proper
a Devout and Holy Life.
studies, and sober methods of education, would in all probability
carry them to greater heights of piety, than are to be found
amongst the generality of men.
For this reason,
and plainness, because it is much to be lamented, that persons
so naturally qualified to be great examples of piety, should by an
erroneous education, be made poor and gaudy spectacles of the
greatest vanity.
The Church has formerly had eminent saints in that sex, and
it may reasonably be thought, that it is purely owing to their
poor and vain education, that this honour of their sex is for the
most part confined to former ages.
The corruption of the world indulges them in great vanity, and
mankind seem to consider them in no other view, than as so
many painted idols, that are to allure and gratify their passions;
so that if many vain, light, gewgaw creatures, they
have this to excuse themselves, that they are not only such as
their education has made them, but such as the generality of the
world allows them to be.
But then they should consider, that the friends to their
They should consider, that they are abused and injured, and
betrayed from their only perfection, whenever they are taught, that
anything is an ornament in them, that is not an ornament in the
wisest amongst mankind.
It is generally said, that women are naturally of little and
vain minds; but this I look upon to be as false and unreasonable,
as to say, that butchers are cruel; for as their cruelty is
not owing to their nature, but to their way of life, which has
changed their nature; so whatever littleness and vanity is to be
observed in the minds of women, it is like the cruelty of butchers,
a temper that is wrought into them by that life which they are
taught and accustomed to lead.
At least thus much must be said, that we cannot charge any
thing upon their nature, till we take care that it is not perverted
by their
And on the other hand, if it were true that they were thus
naturally vain and light, then how much more blamable is that
education, which seems contrived to strengthen and increase this
folly and weakness of their minds?
For if it were a virtue in a
herself, we could hardly take better means to raise this passion
in her, than those that are now used in her education.
Matilda is a fine woman, of good breeding, great sense, and
much religion. She has three daughters that are educated by
herself. She will not trust them with anyone else, or at any
school, for
the dancing-master all the time he is with them, because she will
hear everything that is said to them. She has heard them read
the
without book: And there is scarce a good book of devotion, but
you may find it in their closets.
Had Matilda lived in the first ages of
was practised in the fulness and plainness of its doctrines, she had
in all probability been one of its greatest saints.
But as she was born in corrupt times, where she wants
examples of Christian
higher than her own; so she has many defects, and commu
nicates them all to her daughters.
Matilda never was meanly dressed in her life; and nothing
pleases her in dress, but that which is very rich and beautiful to
the eye.
Her daughters see her great zeal for religion, but then they
see an equal earnestness for all sorts of finery. They see she is
not negligent of her devotion, but then they see her more careful
to preserve her complexion, and to prevent those changes, which
time and
They are afraid to meet her, if they have missed the
but then they are more afraid to see her, if they are not laced as
strait as they can possibly be.
She often shows them her own picture, which was taken when
Matilda is so intent upon all the arts of improving their dress,
that she has some new fancy almost every day, and leaves no
ornament untried, from the richest jewel to the poorest flower.
She is so nice and critical in her judgment, so
smallest error, that the maid is often forced to dress and undress
her daughters three or four times in a day, before she can be
satisfied with it.
As to the patching, she reserves that to herself; for, she says,
if they are not stuck on with judgment, they are rather a
prejudice, than an advantage to the face.
The children see so plainly the temper of their mother, that
they even affect to be more pleased with dress, and to be more
fond of every little ornament, than they really are, merely to
gain her favour.
They saw their eldest sister once brought to her tears, and her
perverseness severely reprimanded, for presuming to say, that she
thought it was better to cover the neck, than to go so far naked
as the modern dress requires.
She stints them in their meals, and is very scrupulous of what
they eat and drink, and tells them how many fine shapes she has
seen spoiled in her time, for want of such care. If a pimple rises
in their faces, she is in a great
as
great
Whenever they begin to look too sanguine and healthful, she
calls in the assistance of the doctor; and if physic, or issues, will
keep the complexion from inclining to coarse or ruddy, she thinks
them well employed.
By this means they are poor, pale, sickly, infirm creatures,
vapoured through want of spirits, crying at the smallest
swooning away at anything that frights them, and hardly able to
bear the weight of their best clothes.
The eldest daughter lived as long as she could under this
discipline, and died in the twentieth year of her age.
When her ribs had
grown into her liver, and that her other entrails were much hurt,
by being crushed together with her stays, which her mother had
ordered to be twitched so strait, that it often brought tears into
her eyes, whilst the maid was dressing her.
Her youngest daughter is run away with a gamester, a man of
great beauty, who in dressing and dancing has no superior.
Matilda says, she should die with grief at this accident, but
that her conscience tells her, she has contributed nothing to it
herself. She appeals to their closets, to their books of devotion,
to testify what care she has taken, to establish her children in a
life of solid piety and devotion.
Now though
brought up in a better way than this, for I hope there are many
that are: yet thus much I believe may be said, that the much
greater part of them, are not brought up so well, or accustomed
to so much Religion, as in the present instance.
Their
and dress, and the indulgence of vain desires, as in the present
case, without having such
So that if solid piety, humility, and a sober sense of themselves, is
A Serious Call to
much wanted in that sex, it is the plain and natural consequence
of a vain and corrupt
And if they are often too ready to receive the first fops, beaux,
and fine dancers, for their husbands; it is no wonder they should
like that in men, which they have been taught to admire in
themselves.
And if they are often seen to lose that little Religion they
were taught in their youth, it is no more to be wondered at,
than to see a little flower choked and killed amongst rank weeds.
For personal pride, and affectation, a delight in
fondness of finery, are tempers that must either kill all Religion
Some people that judge hastily, will perhaps here say, that
am exercising too great a severity against the sex.
But more reasonable persons will easily observe, that I
entirely spare the sex, and only arraign their education; that
I not only spare them, but plead their interest, assert their
honour, set forth their
Their education, I profess, I cannot spare; but the only
reason is, because it is their greatest enemy, because it deprives
the world of so many blessings, and the
saints, as might reasonably be expected from persons, so formed
by their natural tempers to all goodness and tenderness, and
so fitted by the clearness and brightness of their minds, to con
template, love, and admire everything that is holy, virtuous, and
divine.
If it should here be said, that too high upon
their education, and that they are not so much hurt by it, as
I imagine:
It may be answered, that though I do not pretend to state the
exact degree of mischief that is done by it, yet its plain and
natural tendency to do no harm, is sufficient to justify the most
absolute condemnation of it.
But if anyone would know, how generally women are hurt by
this education; if he imagines there may be no personal pride,
or vain fondness of themselves, in those that are patched and
dressed out with so much glitter of art and ornament:
Let him only make the following experiment wherever he
pleases.
Let him only acquaint any such
her: I do not mean that he should tell her to her face, or do it
a Devout and Holy Life.
in any rude public manner; but let him contrive the most civil, secret, friendly way that he can think of, only to let her know
But if such an experiment would show him, that there are but
few such women that could bear with his friendship, after they
For though it is hard to judge of the hearts of people, yet
where they declare their resentment, and uneasiness at anything,
there they pass the judgment upon themselves. If a woman
cannot forgive a man who thinks she has no beauty, nor any
ornament from her dress, there she infallibly discovers the state
of her own heart, and is condemned by her own, and not
another’s judgment.
For we never are angry at others, but when their opinions
of us are contrary to that which we have of ourselves.
A man that makes no pretences to
at those that do not take him to be a scholar; so if a woman
had no opinion of her own person and dress, she would never be
angry at those, who are of the same opinion with herself.
So that the general bad effects of this education, are too much
known to admit of any reasonable doubt.
But how possible it is to bring up daughters in a more
excellent way, let the following character declare.
Eusebia is a pious widow, well born, and well bred, and has
a good estate for five daughters, whom she brings up as one
entrusted by God, to fit five virgins for the kingdom of Heaven.
Her family has the same regulation as a religious house, and all
its orders tend to the support of a constant regular devotion.
She, her daughters, and her maids, meet together at all the
hours of prayer in the day, and chant Psalms, and other devo
tions, and spend the rest of their time in such good works, and
innocent diversions, as render them fit to return to their Psalms
and Prayers.
She loves them as her spiritual
her as their spiritual mother, with an
the fondest
She has divided part of her estate amongst them, that
every one may be charitable out of their own stock, and each
A Serious Call to
of them take it in their turns to provide for the poor and sick of
the Parish.
Eusebia brings them up to all kinds of labour that are proper
for women, as sewing, knitting, spinning, and all other parts of
housewifery; not for their amusement, but that they may be
serviceable to themselves and others, and be saved from those
temptations which attend an idle life.
She tells them, she had rather see them reduced to the
necessity of maintaining themselves by their own work, than
to have riches to excuse themselves from labour. For though,
says she, you may be able to assist the poor without your labour,
yet by your labour you will be able to assist them more.
If Eusebia has lived as free from sin as it is possible for
human nature, it is because she is always watching and guarding
against all instances of pride. And if her virtues are stronger
and higher than other people’s, it is because they are all founded
in a deep humility.
My children, says she, when your father died, I was much
management of an estate fallen upon me.
But my own
grieved to see myself deprived of so faithful a friend, and that
such an eminent example of Christian virtues, should be taken
from the eyes of his
and follow it.
But as to worldly cares, which my friends thought so heavy
upon me, they are most of them of our own making, and fall
away as soon as we know ourselves.
If a person in a dream is disturbed with strange appearances,
his trouble is over as soon as he is awake, and sees that it was
the folly of a dream.
Now when a right
hensions, as when we awake from the wanderings of a dream.
We acknowledge a man to be mad, or melancholy, who
But, my children, there are things in the world which pass for
wisdom, politeness, grandeur, happiness, and
A woman that dares not appear in the world without fine clothes, that thinks it a happiness to have a face
For this reason, all my discourse with you, has been to
acquaint you with yourselves, and to accustom you to such
books and devotions, as may best instruct you in this greatest
of all knowledge.
You would think it hard, not to know the family into which
you were born, what ancestors you were descended from, and
what estate was to come to you. But, my children, you may
know all this with exactness, and yet be as ignorant of your
selves, as he that takes himself to be wax.
For though you were all of you born of my body, and bear
your father’s name, yet you are all of you pure spirits. I do not
mean that you have not meat and drink, and
sleep, and clothing, but that all that deserves to be called you, is
nothing else but spirit. A being spiritual and rational in its
Everything that you call yours, besides this spirit, is but like
your clothing; something that is only to be used for awhile, and
then to end, and die, and wear away, and to signify no more to
you, than the clothing and bodies of other people.
But, my children, you are not only in this manner spirits, but
you are fallen spirits, that began your life in a state of corruption
and disorder, full of tempers and
the reason of your mind, and incline you to that which is
hurtful.
Your poor and perishing like your clothes,
but they are like infected clothes, that fill you with ill diseases
and distempers, which oppress the
vain
So that all of us are like two beings, that have, as it were, two
hearts within us; with the one we see, and taste, and admire
reason, purity and holiness; with the other we incline to pride,
and vanity, and
This internal
if you would know the one thing necessary to all the world, it is
this: to preserve and perfect all that is rational, holy and divine
in our vanity, pride, and
Could you think, my children, when you look at the world,
and see what customs, and fashions, and pleasures, and troubles,
and projects, and tempers, employ the hearts and time of man
kind, that things were thus, as I have told you?
But do not you be
great dream, and but few people are awake in it.
We fancy that we fall into darkness, when we die; but alas,
we are most of us in the dark till then; and the eyes of our
souls only then begin to see, when our bodily eyes are closing.
You see then your state, my children; you are to honour,
improve, and
prepare it for the kingdom of Heaven, to nourish it with the
love of God, and of
make it as holy and heavenly as you can. You are to preserve
it from the errors and vanities of the world; to save it from the
corruptions of the body, from those false delights, and sensual
tempers, which the body tempts it with.
You are to nourish your spirits with pious readings, and holy
meditations, with watchings, fastings, and prayers, that you may
taste, and relish, and desire that eternal state, which is to begin
when this life ends.
As to your poor, perishing
things, that are sickly and corrupt at present, and will soon drop
into common dust. You are to watch over them as enemies,
that are always trying to tempt and betray you, and so never
follow their advice and counsel; you are to consider them as the
place and habitation of your pure and
clean, and decent; you are to consider them as the servants and
instruments of food, and rest, and raiment, that they may be strong and healthful to do the duties
Whilst you live thus, you live like yourselves; and whenever
you have less regard to your souls, or more regard to your
bodies, than this comes to; whenever you are more intent upon
adorning your persons, than upon the perfecting of your souls,
you are much more beside yourselves, than he, that had rather
have a laced coat, than an healthful body.
For this reason, my children, I have taught you nothing that
was dangerous for you to learn; I have kept you from every
thing that might betray you into weakness and folly; or make
you think anything fine mind; anything
the
you possibly can.
Instead of the vain, immodest entertainment of Plays, and
Instead of forced shapes, patched faces, genteel airs, and affected motions, I have taught you to
You know, my children, the high perfection, and the
But as everyone has their proper gift from God, as I look
upon you all to be so many great blessings of a married state;
so I leave it to your choice, either to do as I have done, or to
aspire after higher degrees of
I desire nothing, I press nothing upon you, but to make the
most of human life, and to aspire after perfection in whatever
state of life you choose.
Never therefore consider yourselves as persons that are to be
seen, admired, and courted by men; but as poor sinners, that are
to save yourselves from the vanities and follies of a miserable
world, by humility, devotion, and self-denial. Learn to live for
your own sakes, and the service of God; and let nothing in the
world be of any value with you, but that which you can turn
into a service to God, and a means of your future happiness.
Consider often how powerfully you are called to a virtuous
life, and what great and glorious things God has done for you,
to make you in love with everything that can promote his
glory.
Think upon the vanity and shortness of human life, and let
will strengthen and exalt your minds, make you wise and
judicious, and truly sensible of the littleness of all human
things.
Think of the happiness of prophets and
martyrs, who are now rejoicing in the presence of God, and see
A Serious Call to
themselves possessors of eternal glory. And then think how
desirable a thing it is, to watch and pray, and do good as they
did, that when you die you may have your lot amongst them.
Whether married therefore, or unmarried, consider yourselves
as mothers and sisters, as
your assistance; and never allow yourselves to be idle, whilst
others are in want of anything that your hands can make for
them.
This useful, charitable, humble employment of yourselves, is
what I recommend to you with great earnestness, as being a
substantial part of a
you will thereby do to other people, every virtue of your own
heart will be very much improved by it.
For next to reading, meditation, and prayer, there is nothing
that so secures our hearts from foolish
preserves so holy and wise a frame of useful, humble employment of ourselves.
Never therefore consider your labour as an amusement, that is
to get rid of your time, and so may be as trifling as you please;
but consider it as something that is to be serviceable to yourselves
and others, that is to serve some sober ends of life, to save and
redeem your time, and make it turn to your account when the
works of all people shall be tried by fire.
When you were little, I left you to little amusements, to please
yourselves in any things that were free from harm; but as you
are now grown up to a knowledge of God, and yourselves; as
your minds are now acquainted with the worth and value of
now to do nothing as children, but despise everything that is
poor, or vain, and impertinent; you are now to make the
labours of your hands suitable to the piety of your hearts, and
employ yourselves for the same ends, and with the same
you watch and pray.
For if there is any good to be done by your labour, if you can
possibly employ yourselves usefully to other people, how silly is
it, how contrary to the wisdom of Religion, to make that a mere amusement, which might as easily be made an exercise of the
What would you think of the wisdom of him, that should
employ his time in distilling of waters, and making liquors
which nobody could use, merely to amuse himself with the
variety of their colour and clearness, when with less labour and
expense he might satisfy the wants of those, who have nothing
to drink?
Yet he would be as wisely employed, as those that are amusing
a Devout and Holy Life.
themselves with such tedious works, as they neither need, nor
hardly know how to use when they are finished; when with less
labour and expense they might be doing as much good, as he
that is clothing the naked, or visiting the sick.
Be glad therefore to know the wants of the poorest people, and
let your hands be employed in making such mean and ordinary
things for them, as their necessities require. But thus making
your labour a gift and service to the poor, your ordinary work
will be changed into a holy service, and made as acceptable to
God, as your devotions.
And
chief temper of the greatest saints; so nothing can make your own
charity more amiable in the sight of God, than this method of
adding your labour to it.
The humility also of this employment will be as beneficial to
you, as the charity of it. It will keep you from all vain and
proud thoughts of your own state and distinction in life, and
from treating the poor as creatures of a different species. By
accustoming yourselves to this labour and service for the poor,
as the representatives of
heart softened into the greatest meekness, and lowliness towards
them. You will reverence their estate and condition, think it an
honour to serve them, and never be so pleased with yourself, as
This will make you true disciples of your meek Lord and
Master, ‘who came into the world, not to be ministered unto,
but to minister;’ and though he was Lord of all, and amongst
the creatures of his own making, yet was amongst them, ‘as one
that serveth.’
hearts, when it has thus changed your spirit, removed all the
pride of life from you, and made you delight in humbling your
selves, beneath the lowest of all your fellow-creatures.
Live therefore, my children, as you have begun your lives, in
humble labour for the good of others; and let ceremonious
visits, and vain acquaintances, have as little of your time as you
possibly can. Contract no foolish friendships, or vain
nesses
turn your love towards God, and your
the world.
But above all, avoid the conversation of fine-bred fops and
beaux, and hate nothing more than the idle discourse, the flattery,
and compliments of that sort of men; for they are the shame of
their own sex, and ought to be the abhorrence of yours.
When you go abroad, let humility, modesty, and a decent
A Serious Call to
carriage, be all the state that you take upon you; and let tender
ness, compassion, and good nature, be all the fine breeding that
you show in any place.
If evil speaking, scandal, or backbiting, be the conversation
where you happen to be, keep your heart and your tongue to
yourself; be as much grieved, as if you were amongst cursing
and swearing, and retire as soon as you can.
Though you intend to marry, yet let the time never come, till
you find a man that has those
labouring after yourselves; who is likely to be a friend to all your
virtues, and with whom it is better to live, than to want the benefit
of his example.
Love poverty, and reverence poor people; as for many reasons,
so particularly for this, because our blessed
the number, and because you may make them all so many friends
and advocates with God for you.
Visit and converse with them frequently; you will often find
simplicity, innocence, patience, fortitude, and great piety among
them; and where they are not so, your good example may
amend them.
Rejoice at every opportunity of doing an humble
exercising the meekness of your minds, whether it be, as the
washing the saints’ feet, that is, in wait
ing upon, and serving those that are below you; or in bearing
with the haughtiness and ill-manners of those that are your
equals, or above you. For there is nothing better than humility;
it is the fruitful soil of all
and good, naturally grows from it.
Therefore, my children, pray for, and practise humility, and
reject everything in dress, or carriage, or conversation, that has
any appearance of pride.
Strive to do everything that is praiseworthy, but do nothing
in order to be praised; nor think of any reward, for all your
labours of love and virtue, till
And above all, my children, have a care of vain and proud
thoughts of your own virtues. For as soon as ever people live
different from the common way of the world, and despise its
vanities, the devil represents to their minds the height of their
own perfections; and is content they should excel in good works,
provided that he can but make them proud of them.
Therefore watch over your virtues with a jealous eye, and reject
every vain thought, as you would reject the most wicked imagina
tions; and think what a loss it would be to you, to have the fruit
of all your good works, devoured by the vanity of your own minds.
Never therefore allow yourselves to despise those, who do not
follow your rules of life; but force your hearts to love them, and
pray to God for them; and let humility be always whispering it
into your ears, that you yourselves will fall from those rules
to-morrow, if God should leave you to your own strength and
wisdom.
When, therefore, you have spent days and weeks well, do not
suffer your hearts to contemplate anything as your own, but give
all the glory to the
through such rules of holy living, as you were not able to
observe by your own strength; and take care to begin the next
day, not as proficients in virtue, that can do great matters, but as
poor beginners, that want the daily assistance of God, to save you
from the grossest sins.
Your dear father was an humble, watchful, pious, wise man.
Whilst his sickness would suffer him to talk with me, his discourse
was chiefly about your
humility, he saw the ruins which pride made in our sex; and
therefore he conjured me with the
renounce the fashionable ways of educating daughters in pride
and softness, in the care of their beauty and
He taught me an admirable rule of humility, which he practised
Think therefore, my children, that the soul of your good father,
who is now with God, speaks to you through my mouth; and let
the double desire of your father, who is gone, and of me, who am
with you, prevail upon you to love God, to study your own
fection
charity, to do all the good that you can to all your fellow-crea
tures, till God calls you to another life.
Thus did the pious widow educate her daughters.
The spirit of this
hope, I need say nothing in its justification. If we could see it
in life, as well as read of it in books, the world would soon find
the happy effects of it.
A daughter thus educated, would be a blessing to any family
that she came into; a fit companion for a
him happy in the government of his family, and the education of
his children.
And she that either was not inclined, or could not dispose of
A Serious Call to
herself well in marriage, would know how to live to great and
excellent ends in a state of virginity.
A very ordinary knowledge of the spirit of
How great a stranger must he be to the
know, that it requires this to be the spirit of a pious woman?
Our blessed
to lust after her, hath already committed
his heart.’*
Need an education, which turns women’s minds to the arts and
ornaments of dress and beauty, be more strongly condemned,
than by these words? For surely, if the eye is so easily and
dangerously betrayed, every art and ornament is sufficiently con
demned, that naturally tends to betray it.
And how can a woman of piety more justly abhor and avoid
anything, than that which makes her person more a snare and
temptation to other people? If lust, and
And as there is no pretence for innocence in such a behaviour,
so neither can they tell how to set any bounds to their guilt.
For as they can never know how much, or how often they have
occasioned
guilt will be placed to their own account.
This, one would think, should sufficiently deter every pious
woman from everything, that might render her the occasion of
loose passions in other people.
St. Paul, speaking of a thing entirely
*
Now if this is the spirit of Christianity; if it requires us to
abstain from things thus lawful, innocent, and useful, when there
is any danger of betraying our weak brethren into any error
thereby: Surely it cannot be reckoned too nice or needless a point
of conscience, for
nocent nor useful, but naturally tend to corrupt their own hearts,
and raise
Surely every woman of Christian piety ought to say, in the
spirit of the patching and paint, or any vain adorning
of my person, be a natural means of making weak, unwary eyes
to offend, I will renounce all these arts as long as I live, lest I
should make my fellow-creatures to offend.
humility; having said enough,
as I hope, to recommend the necessity of making it the constant,
chief subject of your devotion, at this hour of prayer.
I have considered the nature and necessity of humility, and its
great importance to a religious life. I have shown you how
many difficulties are formed against it from our natural tempers,
the
These considerations will, I hope, instruct you how to form
your prayers for it to the best advantage; and teach you the
necessity of letting no day pass, without a serious, earnest appli
cation to God, for the whole spirit of humility. Fervently be
seeching him to fill every part of your
the ruling, constant habit of your mind, that you may not only
may have no thoughts, no desires, no designs, but such as are
the true fruits of an humble, meek, and lowly heart.
That you may always appear poor, and little, and mean in
your own eyes, and fully content that others should have the
same opinion of you.
That the whole course of your life, your expense, your house,
your dress, your manner of eating, drinking, conversing, and doing
everything, may be so many continual proofs of the true, un
feigned humility of your heart.
That you may look for nothing, claim nothing, resent nothing;
that you may go through all the
calmly and quietly, as in the presence of God, looking wholly
unto him, acting wholly for him; neither seeking vain applause,
nor resenting neglects, or affronts, but doing and receiving every
thing in the meek and lowly spirit of our Lord and Saviour
IT will perhaps be thought by some people, that these hours
of prayer come too thick; that they can only be observed
by people of great leisure, and ought not to be pressed upon
the generality of men, who have the cares of families, trades
and employments; nor upon the gentry, whose state and
figure in the world cannot admit of this frequency of Devotion.
And that it is only fit for Monasteries and Nunneries, or such
people as have no more to do in the world than they have.
To this it is answered,
First, that this method of Devotion is not pressed upon any
sort of people, as absolutely necessary, but recommended to all people, as the
And if a great and exemplary Devotion, is as much the greatest
Merchant, a Soldier, or a man of
Quality, as it is the greatest happiness and perfection of the most
retired contemplative life, then it is as proper to recommend it
without any abatements to one order of men, as to another. Be
cause happiness and perfection are of the same worth and value
to all people.
The Gentleman and Tradesman may, and must spend much of
their time differently from the pious Monk in the cloister, or the
contemplative Hermit in the desert: But then, as the Monk and
Hermit lose the ends of retirement, unless they make it all
serviceable to Devotion; so the Gentleman and Merchant fail of
the greatest ends of a social life, and live to their loss in the
world, unless Devotion be their chief and governing temper.
It is certainly very honest and creditable for people to engage
in trades and employments; it is reasonable for Gentlemen to
manage well their estates and families, and take such recreations
a Devout and Holy Life.
as are proper to their state. But then every Gentleman and
Tradesman, loses the greatest happiness of his creation, is robbed
of something that is greater than all employments, distinctions
and pleasures of the world, if he does not live more to Piety and
Devotion, than to anything else in the world.
Here are therefore no excuses made for men of business and
figure in the world. First, Because it would be to excuse them
from that which is the greatest end of living; and be only find
ing so many reasons for making them less beneficial to them
selves, and less serviceable to God and the world.
Secondly, Because most men of business and figure engage too far in worldly matters; much further than the reasons of human
Merchants and Tradesmen, for instance, are generally ten times
further engaged in business than they need; which is so far from
being a excuse for their want of time for Devotion,
that it is their crime, and must be censured as a blamable
instance of covetousness and ambition.
The Gentry and people of Figure, either give themselves up to
State-employments, or to the gratifications of their passions, in a
Unless Gentlemen can show that they have another God, than
the Father of our Lord
which is derived from Adam; another Religion than the
For since Piety and Devotion are the common unchangeable
means, of saving all the
there is nothing left for the Gentleman, the Soldier, and the
Tradesman, but to take care that their several states be, by care
and watchfulness, by meditation and prayer, made states of an
exact and solid piety.
If a Merchant, having forborn from too great business, that he
might quietly attend on the service of God, should therefore die
worth twenty, instead of fifty thousand pounds, could anyone say
that he had mistaken his calling, or gone a loser out of the world?
If a Gentleman should have killed fewer foxes, been less
frequent at balls, gaming, and merry-meetings, because stated
If a Tradesman by aspiring after Christian
retiring himself often from his business, should instead of leaving
his children fortunes to spend in luxury and idleness, leave them
to live by their own honest labour; could it be said, that he had
made a wrong use of the world, because he had shown his
children, that he had more regard to that which is eternal, than
to this which is so soon to be at an end?
Since therefore devotion, is not only the best and most desir
able practice in a Cloister, but the best and most desirable
practice of men, as every state of life, they that desire
to be excused from it, because they are men of figure, and estates,
and business, are no wiser than those, that should desire to be
excused from health and happiness, because they were men of
Gentleman, Merchant, or Soldier,
should not put these questions seriously to himself:
What is the best thing for me to intend and drive at in all my actions? How shall I do to make the most of human life? What ways shall I wish that I had taken, when I am leaving the world?
Now to be thus
seems to be but a small and necessary piece of wisdom. For how
can we pretend to
consider, and answer, and govern our lives by that which such
questions require of us?
Shall a Nobleman think his birth too high a dignity to con
descend to such questions as these? Or a Tradesman think his
business too great, to take any care about himself?
Now here is desired no more devotion in anyone’s life, than
the answering these few questions, requires.
Any devotion that is not to the greater advantage of him that
uses it, than anything that he can do in the room of it; any
devotion that does not procure an infinitely greater good, than
can be got by neglecting it, is freely yielded up; here is no
demand of it.
But if people will live in so much ignorance, as never to put
these questions to themselves, but push on a blind life at all
chances, in quest of they know not what, nor why; without ever
considering the worth, or value, or tendency of their actions,
without considering what God, reason, eternity, and their own
happiness require of them; it is for the honour of devotion, that
none can neglect it, but those who are thus inconsiderate, who
dare not enquire after that which is the best, and most worthy
of their choice.
It is true, Claudius, you are a man of figure and estate, and
a Devout and Holy Life.
are to act the part of such a station in human life; you are not
called, as Elijah was, to be a Prophet, or as St.
But will you therefore not love yourself? Will you not seek
and study your own happiness, because you are not called to
preach up the same things to other people?
You would think it very absurd, for a man not to value his
own health, because he was not a Physician; or the preservation
of his limbs, because he was not a Bone-setter. Yet it is more
absurd for you Claudius, to neglect the improvement of your
Consider this text of Scripture, ‘If ye live after the flesh, ye
shall die; but if through the spirit, ye do mortify the deeds of
the body, ye shall live. For as many as are led by the Spirit
of God, they are the Sons of God.’* Do you think that this
Scripture does not equally relate to all mankind? Can you find
any exception here for men of figure and estates? Is not a
spiritual and devout life here made the common condition, on
which all men are to become sons of God? Will you leave
hours of prayer, and rules of devotion, to particular states of life,
when nothing but the same spirit of devotion can save you, or
any man, from eternal death?
Consider again this text: ‘For we must all appear before the
judgment-seat of
done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be
good or bad.† Now if your estate would excuse you from ap
pearing before this judgment-seat; if your figure could protect
you from receiving according to your works, there would be
some pretence for your leaving devotion to other people. But
if you, who are now thus distinguished, must then appear naked
amongst common souls, without any other distinction from others,
but such as your
concern you, as any Prophet, or to make the best provi
Again, consider this doctrine of the Apostle: ‘For none of us,’
that is, of us
himself: For whether we live, we live unto the Lord, and
whether we die, we die unto the Lord. For to this end
both died, and rose, and revived, that he might be Lord both
of the dead and the living.’‡
Now are you, Claudius, excepted out of the doctrine of this
text? Will you, because of your condition, leave it to any par
ticular sort of people, to live and die unto
* A Serious Call to
must leave it to them, to be redeemed by the death and resur
rection of
that for this end
should live to himself. It is not that Priests, or Apostles, or
Monks, or Hermits, should live no longer to themselves; but
that none of us, that is, no Christian of what state soever, should
live unto himself.
If therefore there be any instances of piety, any rules of devo
tion, which you can neglect, and yet live as truly unto
if you observed them, this text calls you to no such devotion.
But if you forsake such devotion, as you yourself know is
expected from some particular sorts of people; such devotion
as you know becomes people that live wholly unto
aspire after great piety; if you neglect such devotion for any
worldly consideration, that you may live more to your own
temper and taste, more to the
Observe further how the same doctrine is taught by St.
all manner of conversation.’*
If, therefore, Claudius, you are one of those that are here
called, you see what it is that you are called to. It is not to
have so much religion as suits with your temper, your business,
or your pleasures, it is not to a particular sort of piety, that may
be sufficient for Gentlemen of figure and estates; but it is first,
to be ‘holy, as He which hath called you is holy’; secondly, it is
to be thus holy in all manner of conversation; that is, to carry
this
the whole form of your
And the reason the
of holiness must be the common spirit of
is very
Christians. ‘Forasmuch as ye know,’ says he, ‘that ye were
not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold,
from your vain conversation,--but with the precious blood
of &c.
As if he had said, Forasmuch as ye know ye were made
capable of this state of holiness, entered into a society with
but by such a mysterious instance of
everything that can be thought of in this world; since God has
redeemed you to himself, and your own great
* a Devout and Holy Life.
a price, how base and shameful must it be, if you do not hence
forth devote yourselves wholly to the glory of God, and become
holy, as he who hath called you is holy?
If, therefore, Claudius, you consider your figure and estate;
or if, in the words of the text, you consider your gold and silver,
and the corruptible things of this life, as any reason why you
may live to your own humour and fancy, why you may neglect
a life of strict piety and great devotion; if you think anything
in the world can be an excuse for you, not
of course and form of your life, you make
yourself as guilty, as if you should neglect the holiness of Chris
tianity, for the sake of picking straws.
For the greatness of this new state of life, to which we are
called in Christ
heaven, and the greatness of the price by whieh we are made
capable of this state of glory, has turned everything that is
worldly, temporal, and corruptible, into an equal littleness; and
made it as great baseness and folly, as great a contempt of the
blood of any degrees of holiness, because you
are a man of some estate and quality, as it would be to neglect
it, because you had a fancy to pick straws.
Again; the same
body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, and ye
are not your own? For ye are bought with a price; therefore
glorify God in your body, and in your *
How poorly, therefore, Claudius, have you read the Scripture,
how little do you know of Christianity, if you can yet talk of
your estate and condition, as a pretence for a freer kind of life?
Are you any more your own, than he that has no estate or
dignity in the world? Must mean and little people preserve
their bodies as temples of the Holy Ghost, by watching, fasting,
and prayer; but may you indulge yours in idleness, in lusts, and
And yet you must either think thus, or else acknowledge, that the
holiness of Saints, Prophets, and Apostles, is the holiness that you
And if you leave it to others, to live in such piety and devo
tion, in such self-denial, humility, and temperance, as may
render them able to glorify God in their body, and in their
spirit; you must leave it to them also, to have the benefit of the
blood of
Again; the
* A Serious Call to
forted, and charged every one of you, that you would walk
worthy of God, who hath called you to his kingdom and
glory.’*
You perhaps, Claudius, have often heard these words, without
ever thinking how much they required of you. And yet you
cannot consider them, without perceiving to what an eminent
state of holiness they call you.
For how can the holiness of the Christian life be set before
you in higher terms, than when it is represented to you as
walking worthy of God? Can you think of any abatements
of
a life, that is to be made worthy of God? Can you
that any man walks in this manner, but he that watches over all
his steps; and considers how everything he does, may be done
in the spirit of holiness? and yet as high as these expressions
carry this holiness, it is here plainly made the necessary holiness
of all Christians. For the
fellow Apostles and
Again, St.
as the oracles of God; if any man minister, let him do it as of
the ability that God giveth; that God in all things may be
glorified in Jesus
Do you not here, Claudius, plainly perceive your high
calling? Is he that speaketh, to have such regard to his words,
that he appear to speak as by the direction of God? Is he that
giveth, to take care that he so giveth, that what he disposeth of
may appear to be a gift that he hath of God? And is all this
to be done, that God may be glorified in all things?
Must it not then be said, Has any man Nobility, dignity, of
State, or figure in the world? Let him so use his Nobility, or
figure of life, that it may appear he uses these as the gifts
of God, for the greater setting forth of his
Claudius, anything forced or far-fetched in this conclusion? Is
it not the plain sense of the words, that everything in life is to
be made a matter of holiness unto God? If so, then your estate
and dignity is so far from excusing you from great piety and
holiness of life, that it lays you under a greater necessity of
living more to the glory of God, because you have more of his
gifts that may be made serviceable to it.
For people, therefore, of figure, or business, or dignity in the
* a Devout and Holy Life.
world, to leave great piety and eminent devotion to any particular
For it is the very end of
men into one holy society, that rich and poor, high and low,
masters and servants, may in one and the same spirit of piety,
become a ‘chosen generation,’ a ‘royal Priesthood, an holy
Nation, a peculiar people, that are to show forth the
of him, who hath called them out of darkness, into his mar
vellous light.’*
Thus much being said to show, that great Devotion and
Holiness is not to be left to any particular sort of people, but to
be the common spirit of all that desire to live up to the terms of
common Christianity; I now proceed to consider the nature and
necessity of universal love, which is here recommended to be
By intercession, is meant a praying to God, and interceding
with him for our fellow-creatures.
Our blessed
pattern and example of our love to one another. As therefore
he is continually making intercession for us all, so ought we to
intercede and pray for one another.
‘A new commandment,’ saith he, ‘I give unto you, that ye
love one another, as I have loved you. By this shall all men
know that yet are my Disciples, if ye love one another.’
The newness of this precept did not consist in this, that men
were commanded to love one another; for this was an old
precept, both of the law of Moses, and of nature. But it was
And if men are to know that we are Disciples of Christ, by
thus loving one another, according to his new example of love,
then it is certain, that if we are void of this love, we make it as
plainly known unto men, that we are none of his Disciples.
There is no
God, than an universal fervent love to all mankind, wishing and
praying for their happiness; because there is no principle of the
heart that makes us more like God, who is love and goodness
itself, and created all beings for their enjoyment of
The greatest Idea that we can frame of God is, when we
* A Serious Call to
conceive him to be a Being of infinite love and goodness; using
an infinite
ness of all his creatures.
The highest notion therefore, that we can form of
when we conceive him as like to God in this respect as he can
be; using all his finite faculties, whether of wisdom, power, or
prayers, for the common good of all his fellow-creatures:
Heartily desiring they may have all the happiness they are
capable of, and as many benefits and assistances from him, as
his state and condition in the world will permit him to give them.
And on the other hand, what a baseness and iniquity is there
in all instances of hatred, envy, spite, and ill-will; if we consider
that every instance of them is so far acting in opposition to God,
and intending mischief and harm to those creatures, which God
favours, and protects, and preserves, in order to their happiness?
An ill-natured man amongst God’s creatures, is the most
perverse creature in the world, acting contrary to that love, by
which himself subsists, and which alone gives subsistence to all
that variety of beings, that enjoy life in any part of the creation.
‘Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so
do unto them.’
Now though this is a doctrine of strict justice, yet it is only an
universal love that can comply with it. For as
measure of our
the same manner towards other people, till we look upon them
with that love, with which we look upon ourselves.
As we have no degrees of spite, or
selves, so we cannot be disposed towards others as we are
towards ourselves, till we universally renounce all instances of
spite, and envy, and ill-will, even in the smallest degrees.
If we had any imperfection in our eyes, that made us see any one thing wrong, for the same reason they would show us an
So that if we have any temper of our hearts, that makes us
envious, or spiteful, or ill-natured towards any one man, the
same temper will make us envious, and spiteful, and ill-natured
towards a great many more.
If therefore we desire this divine
exercise and practise our hearts in the love of all, because it is
not Christian love, till it is the love of all.
If a man could keep this whole law of love, and yet offend in
one point, he would be guilty of all. For as one allowed instance
of injustice, destroys the justice of all our other actions, so one
allowed instance of envy, spite, and ill-will, renders all our other
acts of benevolence and affection nothing worth.
Acts of love, that proceed not from a principle of universal love, are but like acts of justice, that proceed from a heart not
A tenderness and
All particular envies and spite, are as plain departures from
the spirit of
it is as much a law of
neighbour, and to love your neighbour as yourself, as it is a law
of Christianity, to abstain from theft.
Now the noblest motive to this universal tenderness and
affection, is founded in this Doctrine, ‘God is love, and he
that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God.’
Who therefore, whose heart has any tendency towards God,
would not aspire after this divine temper, which so changes and
exalts our
How should we rejoice in the exercise and practice of this
love, which so often as we feel it, is so often an assurance to us,
that God is in us, that we act according to his
itself? But we must observe, that love has then only this
mighty power of uniting us to God, when it is so pure and
universal, as to imitate that love, which God beareth to all his
creatures.
God willeth the
ness to himself. Therefore we must desire the happiness of all
beings, though no happiness cometh to us from it.
God equally delightethe in the
therefore we should wejoice in those perfections, wherever we see
them, and be as glad to have other people perfect as ourselves.
As God forgiveth all, and giveth
forgive all those injuries and affronts which we receive from
others, and do all the good that we can to them.
God Almighty, besides his own great example of love, which
ought to draw all his creatures after it, has so provided for us,
and made our happiness so common to us all, that we have no
occasion to envy, or hate one another.
For we cannot stand in one another’s way, or by enjoying any
particular good, keep another from his full share of it.
As we cannot be happy, but in the enjoyment of God, so we
cannot rival, or rob one another of this happiness.
And as to other things, the enjoyments and prosperities of this
life, they are so little in themselves, so foreign to our happi
ness, and, generally speaking, so contrary to that which they
A Serious Call to
appear to be, that they are no foundation for envy, or spite, or
hatred.
How silly would it be to envy a man, that was drinking
poison out of a golden cup? And yet who can say, that he is
acting wiser than thus, when he is envying any instance of
worldly greatness?
How many saints has adversity sent to Heaven? And how
many poor
misery? A man seems then to be in the most glorious state,
when he has conquered, disgraced, and humbled his enemy;
though it may be, that same conquest has saved his adversary,
and undone himself.
This man had perhaps never been debauched, but for his
fortune and advancement; that had never been pious, but
through his poverty and disgrace.
She that is envied for her beauty, may perchance owe all her
misery to it; and another may be for ever happy, for having had
no admirers of her person.
One man succeeds in everything, and so loses all: Another
meets with nothing but crosses and disappointments, and thereby
gains more than all the world is worth.
This Clergyman may be undone by his being made a Bishop;
and that may save both himself and others, by being fixed to his
first poor vicarage.
How envied was Alexander when, conquering the world, he
And how despised was the poor preacher St. Paul, when he
These few reflections sufficiently show us, that the different
conditions of this life, have nothing in them to excite our uneasy
affection to one another.
To proceed now to another motive to this universal love.
Our power of doing external acts of love and goodness, is often
very narrow and restrained. There are, it may be, but few people
to whom we can contribute any worldly relief.
But though our outward means of doing good are often thus
limited, yet if our hearts are but full of love and goodness, we
get, as it were, an infinite power; because God will attribute to
us those good works, those acts of
which we sincerely desired, and would gladly have performed,
had it been in our power.
You cannot heal all the sick, relieve all the poor; you cannot
comfort all in distress, nor be a father to all the fatherless. You
cannot, it may be, deliver many from their misfortunes, or teach
them to find comfort in God.
But if there is a love and delight
in these good works, and excites you to do all that you can: If
your love has no bounds, but continually wishes and prays for the
relief and happiness of all that are in distress, you will be re
ceived by God as a benefactor to those, who have had nothing
from you but your goodwill, and tender affections.
You cannot build hospitals for the incurable; you cannot erect
monasteries for the education of persons in holy solitude, continual
prayer, and mortification; but if you join in your heart with those
that do, and thank God for their pious designs; if you are a friend
to these great friends to mankind, and rejoice in their
as, though they had none of your hands, yet had all your heart.
This consideration surely is sufficient to make us look to, and
watch over our hearts, with all diligence; to study the improve
ment of our inward tempers, and aspire after every height and
And on the other hand, we may hence learn the great evil and
mischief of all wrong turns of envy, spite, hatred, and
As he that lusteth after a
adulterer, though he has only committed the crime in his heart;
so the secretly
rejoices at evil, shall be reckoned a murderer, though he has
shed no blood.
Since therefore our hearts, which are always naked and open
to the eyes of God, give such an exceeding extent and increase,
either to our best and greatest business
to govern the motions of our hearts, to watch, correct, and
improve the inward state and temper of our souls.
Now there is nothing that so much exalts our
heavenly love: it cleanses and purifies like a holy fire, and all ill
tempers fall away before it. It makes room for all virtues, and
carries them to their greatest height. Everything that is good
and holy grows out of it, and it becomes a continual source of
all holy
natural tenderness, which is more or less in people, according to
It is this love, that loves all things in God, as his creatures, as
the images of his power, as the creatures of his goodness, as parts
of his family, as members of his
principle of all great and good actions.
The love therefore of our neighbour, is only a branch of our
love to God. For when we love God with all our hearts, and
with all our souls, and with all our strength, we shall necessarily
love those beings that are so nearly related to God, that have
everything from him, and are created by him, to be objects of his
own eternal love. If
I hate something that God cannot hate, and despise that which
he loves.
And can I think that I love God with all my heart, whilst I
hate that which belongs only to God, which has no other master
but him, which bears his image, is part of his family, and exists
only by the continuance of his love towards it?
It was the impossibility of this, that made St. John say, ‘That
These reasons sufficiently show us, that no love is holy, or
religious, till it becomes universal.
For if Religion requires me to love all persons, as God’s crea
tures, that belong to him, that bear his image, enjoy his protec
tion, and make parts of his family and household; if these are
the great and necessary reasons, why I should live in love and
friendship with any one man in the world, they are the same
great and necessary reasons, why I should live in love and
ship
against all these reasons, and break through all these ties, and
obligations, whenever I want love towards any one man. The
sin therefore of hating, or despising any one man, is like the
of hating all God’s creation; and the necessity of loving any one
man, is the same necessity of loving every man in the world.
And though many people may appear to us ever so sinful, odious,
or extravagant in their conduct, we must never look upon that,
as the least motive for any contempt or disregard of them; but
look upon them with the greater
pitiable condition that can be.
As it was the Sins of the world, that made the
become a compassionate suffering Advocate for all mankind, so
no one is of the Spirit of Christ, but he that has the utmost com-
a Devout and Holy Life.
passion for sinners. Nor is there any greater sign of your own
towards them that are very weak and defective. And on the
other hand, you have never less reason to be pleased with your
self, than when you find yourself most angry and offended at the
behaviour of others. All sin is certainly to be hated and abhorred,
wherever it is; but then we must set ourselves against sin, as we
do against sickness and diseases, by showing ourselves tender and
compassionate to the sick and diseased.
All other hatred of sin, which does not fill the heart with the
softest, tenderest affections towards persons miserable in it, is the
servant of sin, at the same time that it seems to be hating it.
And there is no
carefully to watch and guard against, than this. For it is a temper
that lurks and hides itself under the cover of many virtues, and
by being unsuspected, does the more mischief.
A man naturally fancies, that it is his own exceeding love of
And when he abhors one man, despises another, and cannot bear
the name of a third, he supposes it all to be a proof of his own
high sense of virtue, and
And yet, one would think, that a man needed no other cure for
this temper, than this one reflection:
That if this had been the Spirit of the
hated sin in this manner, there had been no redemption of the
World: That if God had hated sinners in this manner, day and
night, the world itself had ceased long ago.
This therefore we may take for a certain rule, that the more
we partake of the divine
selves, and the higher our sense of virtue is, the more we shall
pity and compassionate those that want it. The sight of such
people will then, instead of raising in us a haughty contempt, or
peevish indignation towards them, fill us with such bowels of
compassion, as when we see the miseries of an hospital.
That the follies therefore, crimes, and ill-behaviour of our
fellow-creatures, may not lessen that
we are to have for all mankind, we should often consider the
reasons, on which this duty of love is founded.
Now we are to love our neighbour, that is, all mankind, not
because they are wise, holy, virtuous, or well-behaved; for all
mankind neither ever was, nor ever will be so; therefore it is
certain, that the reason of our being obliged to love them, cannot
be founded in their virtue.
Again; if their virtue of goodness were the reason of our
being obliged to love people, we should have no rule to proceed
A Serious Call to
by; because though some people’s virtues or vices are very
notorious, yet, generally speaking, we are but very ill judges of
the virtue and merit of other people.
Thirdly, We are sure that the virtue or merit of persons, is
not the reason of our being obliged to love them, because we are
commanded to pay the highest instances of love to our worst
enemies; we are to love, and bless, and pray for those that most
injuriously treat us. This therefore is demonstration, that the
merit of persons is not the reason, on which our obligation to
love them is founded.
Let us further consider, what that love is, which we owe to
our neighbour. It is to love him as ourselves, that is, to have
all those
selves; to wish him everything that we may lawfully wish to
ourselves; to be glad of every good, and sorry for every evil,
that happens to him; and to be ready to do him all such acts
of
This love therefore, you see, is nothing else but a love of
benevolence; it requires nothing of us but such good wishes, tender affections, and such acts of
This is all the love that we owe to the best of men; and we
are never to want any degree of this love to the worst, or most
unreasonable man in the world.
Now what is the reason why we are to love every man in this
manner? It is answered, that our obligation to love all men in
this manner, is founded upon many reasons.
First, Upon a reason of equity; for if it is just, to love our
selves in this manner, it must be unjust to deny any degree of
this love to others, because every man is so exactly of the same
If therefore your own crimes and follies, do not lessen your
obligation to seek your own good, and wish well to yourself;
neither do the follies and crimes of your neighbour, lessen your
obligation to wish and seek the good of your neighbour.
Another reason for this love, is founded in the authority of
God, who has commanded us to love every man as ourself.
Thirdly, We are obliged to this love, in
goodness, that we may be children of our Father which is in
Heaven, who willeth the happiness of all his creatures, and
maketh his Sun to rise on the evil, and on the good.
Fourthly, Our redemption by
exercise of this love, who came from Heaven, and laid down his
life, out of love to the whole sinful world.
Fifthly, By the command of our Lord and
required us to love one another, as he has loved us.
These are the great, perpetual reasons, on which our obligation
to love all mankind as ourselves, is founded.
These reasons never vary or change, they always continue in
their full force; and therefore equally oblige at all times, and in
regard to all persons.
God loves us, not because we are wise, and good, and holy,
but in
in order to make us good. Our love therefore must take this
course; not looking for, or requiring the merit of our brethren,
but pitying their disorders, and wishing them all the good that
they want, and are capable of receiving.
It appears now plainly, from what has been said, that the love
which we owe to our brethren, is only a love of benevolence. Secondly, That this duty of benevolence, is founded upon such
When therefore, you let loose any ill-natured
hatred, or contempt towards (as you suppose) an
what you would think of another, that was doing the same
towards a good man, and be assured that you are committing
the same sin.
You will perhaps say, How is it possible to love a good and a
bad man, in the same degree?
Just as it is possible to be as just and faithful to a good man,
as to an evil man. Now are you in any difficulty about perform
ing justice and faithfulness to a bad man? Are you in any
doubts, whether you need be so just and faithful to him, as you
need be to a good man? Now why is it, that you are in no
doubt about it? It is because you know, that justice and faith
fulness are founded upon reasons that never vary or change, that
have no dependence upon the merits of men, but are founded in
the
observed with an equal exactness towards good and bad men.
Now do but think thus justly of charity, or
bour, that it is founded upon reasons, that vary not, that have
no dependence upon the merits of men, and then you will find
it as possible to perform the same exact charity, as the same
exact justice, to all men, whether good or bad.
You will perhaps further ask, if you are not to have a particular esteem, veneration, and
The high esteem and veneration which you have for a man of
eminent piety, is no act of charity to him; it is not out of pity
and compassion, that you so reverence him, but it is rather an
act of charity to yourself, that such esteem and veneration, may
excite you to follow his example.
You may, and ought to love, like, and approve the life which
the good man leads; but then this is only the loving of
wherever we see it. And we do not love virtue with the love of
benevolence, as anything that wants our good wishes, but as
something that is our proper good.
The whole of the matter is this. The actions which you are
This distinction betwixt love and benevolence, and esteem or
veneration, is very plain and obvious. And you may perhaps
still better see the plainness and necessity of it, by this following
instance.
No man is to have a high esteem or honour, for his own
plishments
is, to wish well to himself; therefore this distinction betwixt love
and esteem, is not only plain, but very necessary to be observed.
Again, if you think it hardly possible to dislike the actions of
unreasonable men, and yet have a true love for them: Consider
this with relation to yourself.
It is very possible,
detest and abhor a great many of your own past actions, and to
accuse yourself of great folly for them. But do you then lose
any of those tender
to have? Do you then cease to wish well to yourself? Is not
the love of yourself as strong then, as at any other time?
Now what is thus possible with relation to ourselves, is in the
same manner possible with relation to others. We may have
the highest good wishes towards them, desiring for them, every
good that we desire for ourselves, and yet at the same time,
dislike their way of life.
To proceed; all that love which we may justly have for our
selves, we are in strict justice obliged to exercise towards all
other men; and we offend against the great law of our
and the greatest laws of God, when our tempers towards others,
are different from those which we have towards ourselves.
Now that self-love which is just and reasonable, keeps us con
You know how it hurts you, to be made the jest and ridicule
of other people; how it grieves you to be robbed of your
tiondeprived of the favourable opinion of your neighbours:
If therefore you expose others to scorn and contempt in any
degree; if it pleases you to see or hear of their frailties and
infirmities; or if you are only loath to conceal their faults, you
are so far from loving such people as yourself, that you may be
justly supposed to have as much hatred for them, as you have
love for yourself. For such tempers are as truly the proper fruits
of hatred, as the contrary tempers are the proper fruits of love.
And as it is a certain
are tender of everything that concerns you; so it is as certain a
sign that you hate your neighbour, when you are pleased with
anything that hurts him.
But now, if the want of a true and exact charity, be so great a
Such daily constant devotion, being the only likely means of
preserving you in such a state of love, as is necessary to prove
you to be a true follower of
THAT intercession is a great and necessary part of
Christian Devotion, is very evident from
The first followers of
their love, and to maintain all their intercourse and
correspondence, by mutual prayers for one another.
St. Paul, whether he writes to churches, or particular persons,
Thus to the Philippians, ‘I thank my God upon every remem
brance of you. Always in every prayer of mine for you all,
making request with joy.’* Here we see, not only a continual
intercession, but performed with so much gladness, as shows
that it was an exercise of love, in which he highly rejoiced.
His Devotion had also the same care for particular persons;
as appears by the following passage. ‘I thank my God, whom
I serve from my forefathers, with a pure conscience, that with
out ceasing I have remembrance of thee in my prayers night
and day.’† How holy an acquaintance and
how worthy of persons that were raised above the world, and
related to one another, as new members of a kingdom of
Heaven!
particular
also received
saith St. Paul to the
This was the ancient friendship of Christians, uniting and
*a Devout and Holy Life.
cementing their hearts, not by worldly considerations, or human
passions, but by the mutual communication of spiritual blessings,
by prayers and thanksgivings to God for one another.
It was this holy intercession, that raised
state of mutual
and
of intercession is again in the world, when Christianity has the
same power over the hearts of people, that it then had, this holy
the wonder of the world, for that exceeding love which they bear
to one another.
For a frequent intercession with God, earnestly beseeching him
to forgive the
dence
lasting
can be engaged in.
Be daily therefore on your knees, in a solemn, deliberate per
formance of this devotion, praying for others in such forms, with
such length, importunity, and earnestness, as you use for yourself;
and you will find all little, ill-natured
heart grow great and generous, delighting in the common happi
ness of others, as you used only to delight in your own.
For he that daily prays to God, that all men may be happy in
heaven, takes the likeliest way to make him wish for, and delight
in their happiness on earth. And it is hardly possible for you,
to beseech and entreat God to make anyone happy in the highest
enjoyments of his glory to all eternity, and yet be troubled to
see him enjoy the much smaller gifts of God, in this short and
low state of human life.
For how strange and unnatural would it be, to pray to God to
grant health and a longer life to a sick man, and at the same
time to envy him the poor pleasure of agreeable medicines?
Yet this would be no more strange, or unnatural, than to pray
to God that your neighbour may enjoy the highest degrees of
his mercy and favour, and yet at the same time envy him the
little credit and figure, he hath amongst his fellow-creatures.
When therefore you have once habituated your heart to a
serious performance of this holy intercession, you have done a
great deal, to render it incapable of spite and envy, and to make
This is the natural effect of a general intercession for all man
kind. But the greatest benefits of it are then received, when it
descends to such particular instances, as our state and condition
in life more particularly require of us.
Though we are to treat all mankind as neighbours and brethren,
A Serious Call to
as any occasion offers; yet as we can only live in the actual
ticularly related to some than others; so when our intercession
is made an exercise of love and care, for those amongst whom
our lot is fallen, or who belong to us in a nearer relation, it then
becomes the greatest benefit to ourselves, and produces its best
effects in our own hearts.
If therefore you should always change and alter your inter
cessions, according as the needs and necessities of your neighbours
or acquaintance seem to require; beseeching God to deliver them
from such or such particular evils, or to grant them this or that
particular gift, or blessing; such intercessions, besides the great
charity of them, would have a mighty effect upon your own
heart, as disposing you to every other good office, and to the
exercise of every other
often a place in your prayers.
This would make it pleasant to you, to be courteous, civil, and
condescending to all about you; and make you unable to say, or
do a rude, or hard thing to those, for whom you had used your
self to be so kind and
For there is nothing that makes us love a man so much, as
praying for him; and when you can once do this sincerely for
any man, you have fitted your soul for the performance of every
thing that is kind and civil towards him. This will fill your
heart with a generosity and
and sweeter behaviour, than anything that is called fine breeding
and good manners.
By considering yourself as an advocate with God, for your
neighbours and acquaintance, you would never find it hard to be
at peace with them yourself. It would be easy to you to bear
with, and forgive those, for whom you particularly implored the
divine
Such prayers as these, amongst neighbours and acquaintance,
would unite them to one another in the strongest bonds of love
and tenderness. It would exalt and ennoble their souls, and teach
them to consider one another in a higher state, as members of a
spiritual society, that are created for the enjoyment of the common
And by being thus desirous, that everyone should have their
full share of the favours of God, they would not only be content,
but glad to see one another happy, in the little enjoyments of
this transitory life.
These would be the natural effects of such an intercession,
amongst people of the same town or neighbourhood, or that were
acquainted with one another’s state and condition.
Ouranius is a holy Priest, full of the spirit of the
watching, labouring, and praying for a poor country village.
Every soul in it, is as dear to him as himself; and he loves them
all, as he loves himself; because he prays for them all, as often as
he prays for himself.
If his whole life is one continual exercise of great zeal and
labour, hardly ever satisfied with any degrees of care and watch
fulness, it is because he has learned the great value of souls, by
so often appearing before God, as an intercessor for them.
He never thinks he can love, or do enough for his flock;
because he never considers them in any other view, than as so
many persons, that by receiving the gifts and graces of God, are
to become his hope, his joy, and his crown of rejoicing.
He goes about his Parish, and visits everybody in it; but visits
in the same spirit of piety, that he preaches to them; he visits
them, to encourage their virtues, to assist them with his advice
and counsel, to discover their manner of life, and to know the
state of their souls, that he may intercede with God for them,
according to their particular necessities.
When Ouranius first entered into holy orders, he had a haughtiness in his temper, a great
The rudeness, ill-nature, or perverse behaviour of any of his
flock, used at first to betray him into impatience; but now it
raises no other
knees in prayer to God for them.
Thus have his prayers for others, altered and amended the state
of his own heart.
It would strangely delight you to see, with what spirit he con
verses, with what tenderness he reproves, with what
This devotion softens his heart, enlightens his mind, sweetens
his temper, and makes everything that comes from him, instruc
tive, amiable, and
At his first coming to his little Village, it was as disagreeable
to him as a prison, and every day seemed too tedious to be
endured in so retired a place. He thought his Parish was too
full of poor and mean people, that were none of them fit for the
conversation of a Gentleman.
This put him upon a close application to his studies. He kept
A Serious Call to
much at home, writ notes upon Homer and
This was his polite, or poor, ignorant turn of
But now his days are so far from being tedious, or his Parish too
great a retirement, that he now only wants more time to do that
variety of good, which his soul thirsts after. The solitude of his
little Parish is become matter of great comfort to him, because
he hopes that God has placed him and his flock there, to make
it their way to Heaven.
He can now not only converse with, but gladly attend and
wait upon the poorest kind of people. He is now daily watch
ing over the weak and infirm, humbling himself to perverse, rude,
ignorant people, wherever he can find them; and is so far from
desiring to be considered as a Gentleman, that he desires to be
used as the servant of all; and in the spirit of his Lord and
Master girds himself, and is glad to kneel down and wash any of
their feet.
He now thinks the poorest creature in his Parish good enough,
and great enough, to deserve the humblest attendances, the
kindest friendships, the tenderest offices, he can possibly show
them.
He is so far now from wanting agreeable company, that he
thinks there is no better conversation in the world, than to be
talking with poor and mean people about the kingdom of Heaven.
All these noble thoughts, and divine sentiments, are the effects
of his great devotion; he presents everyone so often before God,
in his prayers, that he never thinks he can esteem, reverence, or
serve those enough, for whom he implores so many mercies
from God.
Ouranius is mightily affected with this passage of
ture, ‘The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth
much.’*
This makes him practise all the arts of holy living, and aspire
after every instance of piety and righteousness, that his prayers
for his flock may have their full force, and avail much with God.
For this reason, he has sold a small estate that he had, and has
erected a charitable retirement for ancient, poor people, to live
in prayer and piety, that his prayers being assisted by such good
works, may pierce the clouds, and bring down blessings upon those
souls committed to his care.
Ouranius reads how God himself said unto Abimelech, concern-
*
And again, how he said of Job, ‘And my servant
From these passages Ouranius justly concludes, that the
prayers of men eminent for holiness of life, have an extraordinary
power with God; that he grants to other people such pardons,
reliefs and blessings, through their prayers, as would not be
granted to men of less piety and
Ouranius exceeding studious of Christian perfection, searching
after every grace and holy
of ways, fearful of every error and defect in his life, lest his
prayers for his flock should be less availing with God, through
his own defects in holiness.
This makes him careful of every temper of his heart, give
alms of all that he hath, watch, and fast, and mortify, and live
according to the strictest temperance, meekness, and
humility, that he may be in some degree like an Abraham, or a
These are the happy effects, which a devout intercession hath
produced in the life of Ouranius.
And if other people, in their several stations, were to
this example, in such a manner as suited their particular state
of life, they would certainly find the same happy effects from it.
If Masters, for instance, were thus to remember their servants
in their prayers, beseeching God to bless them, and suiting their
petitions to the particular wants and necessities of their servants;
letting no day pass, without a full performance of this part of
Devotion, the benefit would be as great to themselves, as to
their servants.
No way so likely as this, to inspire them with a true sense of
that power which they have in their hands, to make them de
light in doing good, and becoming exemplary in all the parts of
a wise and good master.
The presenting their servants so often before God, as equally
related to God, and entitled to the same expectations of Heaven,
as themselves, would naturally incline them to treat them, not
only with such humanity as became
*
This would teach them to consider their servants as God’s
servants, to desire their
that might corrupt their minds, to impose no business upon
them that should lessen their
from their full share of Devotion, both public and private.
This praying for them, would make them as glad to see their
servants eminent in piety as themselves, and contrive that they
should have all the opportunities and encouragements, both to
know, and perform all the duties of the Christian life.
How natural would it be for such a Master, to perform every
part of Family Devotion; to have constant prayers, to excuse
no one’s absence from them; to have the
of piety often read amongst his servants; to take all oppor
tunities of instructing them, of raising their minds to God, and
teaching them to do all their business, as a service to God, and
upon the hopes and expectations of another life?
How natural would it be for such a one to pity their weak
ness and ignorance, to bear with the dulness of their under
standings, or the perverseness of their tempers; to reprove
them with tenderness, exhort them with affection, as hoping
that God would hear his prayers for them?
How impossible would it be for a Master, that thus interceded
with God for his servants, to use any unkind threatenings to
wards them, to damn and curse them as dogs and scoundrels,
and treat them only as the dregs of the creation?
This Devotion would give them another
consider how to make proper returns of care, kindness, and pro
tection to those, who had spent their strength and time in ser
vice and attendance upon them.
Now if Gentlemen think it too low an employment for their
state and dignity, to exercise such a Devotion as this for their
servants, let them consider how far they are from the spirit of
Christ, who made Himself not only an intercessor, but a sacri
fice for the whole race of sinful mankind.
Let them consider how miserable their greatness would be, if
the
them, as they do to pray for their fellow-creatures.
Let them consider how far they are from that spirit, which
prays for its most unjust enemies, if they have not
enough to pray for those, by whose labours and service they live
in ease themselves.
Again, If Parents should thus make themselves advocates and
intercessors with God for their a Devout and Holy Life.
Heaven in behalf of them, nothing would be more likely, not
only to bless their children, but also to form and dispose their
own minds, to the performance of everything that was excellent
and praiseworthy.
member their children in their prayers, and call upon God to
bless them. But the thing here intended, is not a general re
membrance of them, but a regular method of recommending all
their particular needs and necessities unto God; and of praying
for every such particular grace and
The state of parents is a holy state, in some degree like that
of the Priesthood, and calls upon them to bless their children
with their prayers and sacrifices to God. Thus it was that holy
Job watched over, and blessed his children, he ‘sanctified them,
If parents therefore, considering themselves in this light,
should be daily calling upon God, in a solemn, deliberate manner,
altering and extending their intercessions, as the state and growth
of their children required, such Devotion would have a mighty
influence upon the rest of their lives; it would make them very
circumspect in the government of themselves; prudent and
careful of everything they said or did, lest their example should
hinder that, which they so constantly desired in their prayers.
If a father was daily making particular prayers to God, that
he would please to inspire his children with true piety, great humility, and
If a father thus considered himself as an intercessor with God
for his
likely means to make him aspire after every degree of holiness,
that he might thereby be fitter to obtain blessings from Heaven
for them? How would such thoughts make him avoid every
thing that was sinful and displeasing to God, lest when he prayed
for his children, God should reject his prayers?
How
with his children, whom he considered as his little spiritual flock,
whose virtues he was to form by his example, encourage by his
*A Serious Call to
authority, nourish by his counsel, and prosper by his prayers to
God for them?
How fearful would he be of all greedy and unjust ways of
raising their fortune, of bringing them up in pride and indulgence,
or of making them too fond of the world, lest he should thereby
render them incapable of those
beseeching God to grant them?
These being the plain, natural, happy effects of this inter
cession, all parents, I hope, who have the real welfare of their
children at heart, who desire to be their true friends and bene
factors, and to live amongst them in the spirit of
piety, will not neglect so great a means, both of raising their
own virtue, and doing an eternal good to those, who are so near
and dear to them, by the strongest ties of nature.
Lastly, If all people, when they feel the first approaches of
resentment, envy, or
If you were also to form your prayer, or intercession at that
time, to the greatest degree of contrariety to that
you were then in, it would be an excellent means of raising your
heart to the greatest state of
As for instance, when at any time you find in your heart
motions of envy towards any person, whether on account of his
riches, power, reputation, learning, or
This would be such a triumph over yourself, would so humble
and reduce your heart into obedience and order, that the Devil
would even be afraid of tempting you again in the same manner,
when he saw the temptation turned into so great a means of
amending and reforming the state of your heart.
Again, If in any little difference, or misunderstandings that
you happened to have at any time, with a relation, a neighbour,
or anyone else, you should then pray for them in a more extraordinary manner, than you ever did before; beseeching God to
This would be the mighty power of such Christian devotion;
it would remove all peevish passions, soften your heart into the
most tender condescensions, and be the best arbitrator of all
differences that happened betwixt you and any of your acquaint
ance.
The greatest resentments amongst friends and neighbours,
most often arise from poor punctilios, and little mistakes in
conduct. A certain sign that their merely human,
not founded upon religious considerations, or supported by such
a course of mutual prayer for one another, as the first
used.
For such devotion must necessarily either destroy such
tempers, or be itself destroyed by them.
You cannot possibly have any ill-temper, or show any unkind
behaviour to a man, for whose welfare you are so much con
cerned, as to be his advocate with God in private.
Hence we may also learn the odious
guilt of all spite, hatred, contempt, and angry passions; they are
You think it a small matter to be peevish or ill-natured, to
such or such a man; but you should consider whether it be a
small matter to do that, which you could not do, if you had but
so much charity, as to be able to recommend him to God in
your prayers.
You think it a small matter to ridicule one man, and
For be but as charitable to these men, do but bless and pray
for them, as you are obliged to bless and pray for your enemies,
and then you will find that you have charity enough, to make
it impossible for you to treat them with any degree of scorn or
contempt.
For you cannot possibly despise and ridicule that man, whom
your private prayers recommend to the
When you despise and ridicule a man, it is with no other end,
but to make him ridiculous and contemptible in the eyes of other
men, and in order to prevent their esteem of him. How there
fore can it be possible for you, sincerely to beseech God to bless
that man with the honour of his love and favour, whom you
desire men to treat as worthy of their contempt?
Could you, out of love to a neighbour, desire your Prince to
honour him with every
at the same time expose him to the scorn and derision of your
own servants?
Yet this is as possible, as to expose that man to the scorn
and contempt of your fellow-creatures, whom you recommend
to the favour of God in your secret prayers.
From these considerations, we may plainly discover the
reasonableness and justice of this doctrine of the
soever shall say unto his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of
the council; but whosoever shall say, Thou Fool, shall be in
danger of *
We are not,
unreasonable expression, that slips from us by chance or surprise
and is contrary to our intention and tempers, is the great
here signified.
But he that says, Raca, or thou Fool, must chiefly mean him
that allows himself in deliberate, designed acts of scorn and contempt towards his brother, and in that temper speak to him, and
Now since it appears, that these
the most rank uncharitableness, since no one can be guilty of
them, but because he has not charity enough to pray to God for
his brother; it cannot be thought hard or rigorous justice, that
such tempers should endanger the salvation of Christians. For
who would think it hard, that a
favour of God for himself, unless he reverence and esteem his
brother Christian, as one that bears the
whom
that holy society on earth, which is in union with that triumphant
Yet all these considerations must be forgot, all these glorious
as an object of scorn and contempt.
So that to scorn, or despise a brother, or, as our
says, to call him Raca, or Fool, must be looked upon, as
amongst the most odious, unjust, and guilty tempers, that can
*a Devout and Holy Life.
be supported in the heart of a Christian, and justly excluding
him from all his hopes in the salvation of
For to despise one for whom
to Christ, as he that despises anything that
or done.
If a Christian that had lived with the holy Virgin
should, after the death of our
treat her with contempt, you would certainly say, that he had
lost his piety towards our blessed
for Christ must have forced him to treat her with respect, who
was so nearly related to him.
him, that this relation of the Virgin Mary to our blessed
Now if this be plain and obvious reasoning, if a contempt offered
to the Virgin Mary, must have been interpreted a contempt
You cannot despise a brother, without despising him that
stands in a high relation to God, to his Son
the Holy Trinity.
You would certainly think it a mighty impiety to treat a
writing with great contempt, that had been written by the finger
of God; and can you think it a less impiety to contemn and
vilify a brother, who is not only the workmanship, but the image
of God?
You would justly think it great profaneness, to contemn and
trample upon an Altar, because it was appropriated to holy uses,
and had had the body of
can you suppose it to be less profaneness to scorn and trample
upon a brother, who so belongs to God, that his very
be considered as the ‘temple of the Holy *
Had you despised and ill-treated the Virgin Mary, you had
And now if this scornful temper is founded upon a disregard
of all these relations, which every Christian bears to God, and
* 1 Cor. vi. 19.A Serious Call to
that a Christian who thus allows himself to despise a brother,
should be in danger of
Secondly, It must here be observed, that though in these
words, ‘whosoever shall say, Thou Fool,’ &c., the great sin
They proceed from great want of Christian love and meekness,
and call for great repentance. They are only little sins, when
compared with habits and settled tempers of treating a brother
despitefully, and fall as directly under the condemnation of this
And the reason why we are always to apprehend great guilt,
and call ourselves to a strict repentance for these hasty expres
sions of anger and contempt, is this; because they seldom are
what they seem to be, that is, mere starts of temper, that were
occasioned purely by surprise or accident, but are much more our
own proper acts, than we generally imagine.
A man says a great many bitter things; he presently forgives
himself, because he supposes it was only the suddenness of the
occasion, or something accidental, that carried him so far beyond
But he should consider, that perhaps the accident, or surprise,
was not the occasion of his angry expressions, but might only be
the occasion of his angry
Now as this is, generally speaking, the case, as all haughty, angry language generally proceeds from some
And this may be the reason, why the
than the outward language; why it only says, ‘Whosoever shall
say, Thou Fool’; because few can proceed so far, as to the
accidental use of haughty, disdainful language, but they whose
hearts are more or less possessed with habits, and settled tempers
of pride and haughtiness.
But to return, Intercession is not only the best arbitrator of all
differences, the best promoter of true
and preservative against all unkind a Devout and Holy Life.
haughty
true state of our own hearts.
There are many tempers which we think lawful and innocent,
which we never suspect of any harm; which if they were to be
tried by this devotion, would soon show us how we have deceived
ourselves.
Susurrus is a pious, temperate, good man, remarkable for
abundance of excellent qualities. No one more constant at the
service of the Church, or whose heart is more
His charity is so great, that he almost starves himself, to be able
to give greater alms to the poor.
Yet Susurrus had a prodigious failing, along with these great
virtues.
He had a mighty
defects and infirmities of all about him. You were welcome to
tell him anything of anybody, provided that you did not do it in
the style of an enemy. He never disliked an evil-speaker, but
when his rough and passionate. If you would but
whisper anything gently, though it was ever so bad in itself,
Susurrus was ready to receive it.
When he visits, you generally hear him relating, how sorry he
is for the defects and failings of such a neighbour. He is always
letting you know, how tender he is of the reputation of his
neighbour; how loath to say that which he is forced to say; and
how gladly he would conceal it, if it could be concealed.
Susurrus had such a tender, compassionate manner of relating
things the most prejudicial to his neighbour, that he even
seemed, both to himself and others, to be exercising a Christian
charity, at the same time that he was indulging a whispering,
evil-speaking temper.
Susurrus once whispered to a particular friend in great
secrecy, something too bad to be spoken of publicly. He ended
with saying, how glad he was, that it had not yet took wind,
and that he had some hopes it might not be true, though
the suspicions were very strong. His friend made him this
reply:
You say, Susurrus, that you are glad it has not yet taken
wind; and that you have some hopes it may not prove true.
Go home therefore to your closet, and pray to God for this man,
in such a manner, and with such earnestness, as you would pray
for yourself on the like occasion.
Beseech God to interpose in his
accusers, and bring all those to shame, who by uncharitable whispers, and
Susurrus was exceedingly affected with this rebuke, and felt
the force of it upon his conscience, in as lively a manner, as if
he had seen the books opened at the day of Judgment.
All other arguments might have been resisted; but it was
impossible for Susurrus, either to reject, or to follow this advice,
without being equally self-condemned in the highest degree.
From that time to this, he has constantly used himself to this
method of intercession; and his heart is so entirely changed by
it, that he can now no more privately whisper anything to the
prejudice of another, than he can openly pray to God to do
people hurt.
Whisperings and evil-speakings now hurt his ears, like oaths
and curses; and he has appointed one day in the week, to be
a day of penance as long as he lives, to humble himself before
God, in the sorrowful confession of his former guilt.
It may well be wondered, how a man of so much piety as
Susurrus, could be so long deceived in himself, as to live in such
a state of scandal and evil-speaking, without suspecting himself
to be guilty of it. But it was the tenderness and seeming com with which he heard and related everything, that deceived
This was a falseness of heart, which was only to be fully dis
covered, by the true charity of
And if people of virtue, who think as little harm of them
selves, as Susurrus did, were often to try their spirit by such an
intercession, they would often find themselves to be such, as they
least of all suspected.
intercession. You have seen what a divine
needs beget amongst
relations and neighbours to one another; how it tends to make
Clergymen, Masters, and Parents, exemplary and perfect in all
the duties of their station; how certainly it destroys all envy,
spite, and ill-natured
differences, and with what a piercing light it discovers to a man
the true state of his heart.
These considerations will, I hope, persuade you to make such
intercession as is proper for your state, the constant, chief matter
of your devotion, at this hour of prayer.
IHAVE recommended certain subjects, to be made the fixed
As thanksgiving, and oblation of yourself to God, at
your first prayers in the morning. At nine, the great virtue
of Christian humility is to be the chief part of your petitions.
At twelve, you are called upon to pray for all the graces of universal love, and to raise it in your heart by such general and
At this hour of the afternoon, you are desired to consider the
necessity of resignation and conformity to the will of God, and to
make this great
There is nothing wise, or
No beings therefore, whether in Heaven, or on earth, can be
wise, or holy, or just, but so far as they conform to this will of
God. It is conformity to this will, that gives virtue and
tion
formity to the same will, that makes the ordinary
on earth, become an acceptable service unto God.
The whole nature of virtue consists in conforming, and the
whole nature of vice in declining from the will of God. All
God’s creatures are created to fulfil his will; the Sun and Moon
obey his will, by the necessity of their nature; Angels conform
to his will, by the perfection of their nature: If therefore you
would show yourself, not to be a rebel and apostate from the
order of the creation, you must act like beings both above and
below you; it must be the great desire of your soul, that God’s
will may be done by you on earth, as it is done in heaven. It
A Serious Call to
must be the settled purpose and intention of your heart, to will
nothing, design nothing, do nothing, but so far as you have reason
to believe, that it is the will of God, that you should so desire,
design, and do.
’Tis as just and necessary to live in this state of heart, to think
thus of God and yourself, as to think that you have any de
pendence upon him. And it is as great a rebellion against God,
to think that your will may ever differ from his, as to think that
you have not received the power of willing for him.
You are therefore to consider yourself as a being, that has no
other business in the world, but to be that which God requires
you to be; to have no tempers, no rules of your own, to seek no
self-designs, or self ends, but to fill some place, and act some
part in strict conformity, and thankful resignation to the divine
pleasure.
To think that you are your own, or at your own disposal, is
as absurd, as to think that you created, and can preserve your
self. It is as plain and necessary a first principle, to believe you
are thus God’s, that you thus belong to him, and are to act and
suffer all in a thankful resignation to his pleasure, as to believe,
that in him you live, and move, and have your being.
Resignation to the divine will, signifies a cheerful approbation,
and thankful acceptance of everything that comes from God.
It is not enough patiently to submit, but we must thankfully re
ceive, and fully approve of everything, that by the order of God’s
For there is no reason why we should be patient, but what is
as good and strong a reason why we should be thankful. If we
were under the hands of a wise and good Physician, that could
not mistake, or do anything to us, but what certainly tended to
our benefit; it would not be enough to be patient, and abstain
from murmurings against such a Physician; but it would be as
great a breach of duty and gratitude to him, not to be pleased
and thankful for what he did, as it would be to murmur at him.
Now this is our true state with relation to God; we cannot be
said so much as to believe in him, unless we believe him to be of
infinite wisdom. Every argument therefore for patience under
Do but assent to this
things of which you have no doubt, and then you will cheerfully
approve of everything, that God has already approved for you.
For as you cannot possibly be pleased with the behaviour of
any person towards you, but because it is for your good, is wise
in itself, and the effect of his love and goodness towards you; so
when you are satisfied that God does not only do that which is
wise, and good, and kind, but that which is the effect of an in
finite wisdom and love in the care of you; it will be as necessary,
whilst you have this faith, to be thankful and pleased with every
thing which God chooses for you, as to wish your own happiness.
Whenever therefore you find yourself disposed to uneasiness,
or murmuring, at anything that is the effect of God’s providence
over you, you must look upon yourself as denying, either the
wisdom, or goodness of God. For every complaint necessarily
supposes this. You would never complain of your neighbour, but
that you suppose you can show either his unwise, unjust, or unkind behaviour towards you.
Now every murmuring, impatient reflection, under the provi
dence of God, is the same accusation of God. A complaint
always supposes ill-usage.
Hence also you may see the great necessity and piety of this
thankful state of heart, because the want of it, implies an accusa
tion of God’s want, either of wisdom, or goodness, in his disposal
of us. It is not therefore any high degree of
in any uncommon nicety of thinking, or refined notions, but a
plain principle, founded in this plain belief, that God is a being
of infinite wisdom and goodness.
Now this resignation to the divine will, may be considered in
two respects; First, As it signifies a thankful approbation of
God’s general providence over the world: Secondly, As it signifies
a thankful acceptance of his particular providence over us.
First, Every man is by the law of his creation, by the first
article of his
wisdom and goodness of God in his general providence over the
whole world. He is to believe, that it is the effect of God’s great
wisdom and goodness, that the world itself was formed at such a
particular time, and in such a manner: That the general
of nature
the best manner. He is to believe that God’s providence over
the revolutions of state, and changes of empire, the rise and fall
of monarchies, persecutions,
permitted, and conducted by God’s providence, to the general
good of man in this state of trial.
A good man is to believe all this, with the same fulness of
assent, as he believes that God is in every place, though he
neither sees, nor can comprehend the manner of his presence.
This is a noble magnificence of thought, a true religious great
ness of
muring at the course of the world, or the state of things, but
looking upon all around, at heaven and earth, as a pleased
all
highest wisdom and goodness.
It is very common for people, to allow themselves great
their cause.
Everyone thinks he may justly say, what a wretched, abominable climate he lives in. This man is frequently telling you, what a
It sounds indeed much better to murmur at the course of the
world, or the state of things, than to murmur at Providence; to
complain of the seasons and weather, than to complain of God;
but if these have no other cause but God and His providence,
it is a poor distinction to say, that you are only angry at the
things, but not at the cause and director of them.
How sacred the whole frame of the world is, how all things
are to be considered as God’s, and referred to him, is fully
taught by our oaths: ‘But I say
unto you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven, for it is God’s
throne; nor by the earth, for it is his footstool; neither by
Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King; neither shalt
thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair
white or black’;* that is, because the whiteness or blackness
of thy hair is not thine, but God’s.
Here you see all things in the whole
the highest heavens to the smallest hair, are always to be con
sidered, not separately as they are in themselves, but as in some
relation to God. And if this be good reasoning, thou shalt not
swear by the earth, a city, or thy hair, because these things are
God’s, and in a certain manner belong to him; is it not exactly
the same reasoning to say, Thou shalt not murmur at the seasons
of the earth, the states of cities, and the change of times, because
all these things are in the hands of God, have him for their
* a Devout and Holy Life.
Author, are directed and governed by him to such ends, as are
most suitable to his wise Providence?
If you think you can murmur at the state of things, without
murmuring at Providence, or complain of seasons without com
plaining of God; hear what our blessed
oaths: ‘Whoso shall swear by the altar, sweareth by it, and by
all things thereon: And whoso shall swear by the temple,
sweareth by him that dwelleth therein: And he that shall
swear by heaven, sweareth by the throne of God, and by him
that sitteth thereon.’*
Now does not this
this manner, Whoso murmurs at the course of the world, mur
murs at God that governs the course of the world. Whoso
repines at seasons and weather, and speaks impatiently of times
and events, repines and speaketh impatiently of God, who is the
sole Lord and Governor of times, seasons, and events.
As therefore when we think of God himself, we are to have
no
at those things which are under the direction of God, and
governed by his Providence, we are to receive them with the
same tempers of praise and gratitude.
And though we are not to think all things right, and just, and
lawful, which the Providence of God permits; for then nothing
could be unjust, because nothing is without his permission; yet
we must adore God in the greatest public calamities, the most
grievous persecutions, as things that are suffered by God, like
plagues and famines, for ends suitable to his
in the government of the world.
There is nothing more suitable to the piety of a reasonable
creature, or the
admire, and glorify God in all the acts of his general Provi
dence; considering the whole world as his particular family,
and all events as directed by his wisdom.
Everyone seems to consent to this, as an undeniable
That all things must be as God pleases; and is not this enough
to make every man pleased with them himself? And how can
a man be a peevish complainer of anything that is the effect of
Providence, but by showing that his own self-will and selfwisdom, is of more weight with him, than the will and wisdom
For if he cannot thank and praise God, as well in calamities
and sufferings, as in prosperity and
* A Serious Call to
the piety of a Christian, as he that only loves them that love
him, is from the
for such things as you like, is no more a proper act of piety,
than to believe only what you see, is an act of
Resignation and thanksgiving to God are only acts of piety,
when they are acts of faith, trust, and confidence in the divine
Goodness.
The faith of Abraham was an
Now this faith is the true pattern of Christian resignation to
the divine pleasure; you are to thank and praise God, not only
for things agreeable to you, that have the appearance of happi
ness and comfort; but when you are like Abraham, called from
This is true Christian resignation to God, which requires no
more to the support of it, than such a plain assurance of the
goodness of God, as Abraham had of his veracity. And if you
You cannot therefore look upon this as an unnecessary, high
pitch of
any high notions, but of a plain and ordinary faith in the most
certain doctrines, both of natural and revealed religion.
Thus much concerning resignation to the divine Will, as it
signifies a thankful approbation of God’s general providence: It
is now to be considered, as it signifies a thankful acceptance of
God’s particular providence over us.
Every man is to consider himself as a particular object of
* a Devout and Holy Life.
God’s providence; under the same care and protection of God,
as if the world had been made for him alone. It is not by
chance that any man is born at such a time, of such parents, and
in such a place and condition. It is as certain, that every
comes into the
by the express designment of God, according to some purposes of
his will, and for some particular ends; this is as certain, as that
it is by the express designment of God, that some beings are
Angels, and others are
It is as much by the counsel and eternal purpose of God, that
you should be born in your particular state, and that
should be the son of Abraham, as that
The
that our blessed Bethlehem, and at such a
time. Now although it was owing to the dignity of his person,
and the great importance of his birth, that thus much of the
divine counsel was declared to the world, concerning the time
and manner of it; yet we are as sure from the same
that the time and manner of every man’s coming into the world,
is according to some eternal purposes and direction of Divine
such time, and place, and circumstances, as are
directed and governed by God, for particular ends of his wisdom
and goodness.
This we are as certain of from plain
of anything. For if we are told, that not a sparrow falleth to the can anything more strongly
When the disciples put this question to our blessed
concerning the blind man, saying, ‘Master, who did sin, this
man, or his parents, that he was born blind?’ He that was the
eternal wisdom of God, made this answer, ‘Neither hath this
man sinned, nor his parents; but that the works of God should
be made manifest in him.’* Plainly declaring, that the par-
*A Serious Call to
ticular circumstances of every man’s birth, the
receives, and the condition and state of life into which he is
born, are appointed by a secret Providence, which directs all
things to their particular times and seasons, and manner of
existence, that the wisdom and works of God may be made
manifest in them all.
As therefore it is thus certain, that we are what we are, as to
birth, time, and condition of entering into the world; since all
that is particular in our state, is the effect of God’s particular
providence over us, and intended for some particular ends both of
his glory and our own happiness, we are by the greatest obli
gations of gratitude, called upon to conform, and resign our will
to the will of God in all these respects; thankfully approving
and accepting everything that is particular in our state; praising
and glorifying his name for our birth of such parents, and in such
circumstances of state and condition; being fully assured, that it
was for some reasons of infinite wisdom and goodness, that we
were so born into such particular states of life.
If the man above-mentioned, was born blind, that the works of God might be manifested in him, had he not great reason to
How noble an idea does this give us of the divine Omniscience
presiding over the whole world, and governing such a long chain
and combination of seeming
common and particular advantage of all beings? So that all
persons, in such a wonderful variety of causes, accidents, and
events, should all fall into such particular states, as were fore
seen, and fore-ordained to their best advantage, and so as to be
most serviceable to the wise and glorious ends of God’s govern
ment of all the world.
Had you been anything else than what you are, you had, all
things considered, been less wisely provided for than you are
now; you had wanted some circumstances and conditions, that
are best fitted to make you happy yourself, and serviceable to
the glory of God.
Could you see all that which God sees, all that happy chain
of causes and
right course of life, you would see something to make you like
that state you are in, as fitter for you than any other.
But as you cannot see this, so it is here that your Christian
faith and trust in God, is to exercise itself, and render you as
grateful and thankful for the happiness of your state, as if you
saw everything that contributes to it with your own eyes.
But now if this is the case of every man in the world, thus
blessed with some particular state that is most convenient for
him, how reasonable is it for every man, to will that which God
has already willed for him; and by a pious faith and trust in the
divine goodness, thankfully adore and magnify that wise provi
dence, which he is sure has made the best choice for him of those
things, which he could not choose for himself.
Every uneasiness at our own state, is founded upon comparing
it with that of other people. Which is full as unreasonable, as
if a man in a dropsy should be angry at those that prescribe
different things to him, from those which are prescribed to people
in health. For all the different states of life, are like the different
states of diseases, what is a remedy to one man in his state, may
be poison to another.
So that to murmur because you are not as some others are, is
as if a man in one disease, should murmur that he is not treated
like him that is in another. Whereas if he was to have his will,
he would be killed by that, which will prove the cure of another.
It is just thus in the various conditions of life; if you give your
self up to uneasiness, or complain at anything in your state, you
may, for aught you know, be so ungrateful to God, as to murmur
at that very thing, which is to prove the cause of your salvation.
Had you it in your power to get that which you think is so
grievous to want, it might perhaps be that very thing, which of
all others, would most expose you to eternal damnation.
So that whether we consider the infinite goodness of God, that
cannot choose amiss for us, or our own great ignorance of what
is most advantageous to us, there can be nothing so
and pious, as to have no will but that of God’s, and desire
nothing for ourselves, in our persons, our state, and condition, but
that which the good
Further, as the good providence of God thus introduces us
into the world, into such states and conditions of life, as are most
convenient for us, so the same unerring
and changes in the whole course of our lives, in such a manner,
as to render them the fittest means to exercise and improve our
Nothing hurts us, nothing destroys us, but the ill-use of that
We are as sure that nothing happens to us by chance, as that
the world itself was not made by chance; we are as certain that
all things happen, and work together for our good, as that God
is goodness itself. So that a man has as much reason to will
everything that happens to him, because God wills it, as to think
that is wisest, which is directed by infinite wisdom.
This is not cheating, or soothing ourselves into any false con
tent, or
upon as great a certainty, as the being and attributes of God.
For if we are right in believing God to act over us with infinite
wisdom and goodness, we cannot carry our notions of conformity
and resignation to the divine will too high; nor can we ever be
deceived, by thinking that to be best for us, which God has
brought upon us.
For the providence of God is not more concerned in the
government of night and day, and the variety of seasons, than in
the common course of events, that seem most to depend upon
the mere wills of men. So that it is as strictly right, to look
upon all worldly
and alterations in your own life, to be as truly the effects of
Divine Providence, as the rising and setting of the Sun, or the
alterations of the seasons of the year. As you are therefore
always to adore the wisdom of God in the direction of these
things; so it is the same reasonable duty, always to magnify
God, as an equal Director of everything that happens to you in
the course of your own life.
This holy resignation and conformity of your will to the will
of God, being so much the true state of piety,
think it proper to make this hour of prayer, a constant season of
applying to God for so great a gift: That by thus constantly
praying for it, your heart may be habitually disposed towards
it, and always in a state of readiness to look at everything as
God’s, and to consider him in everything; that so everything
that befalls you, may be received in the spirit of piety, and made
a means of exercising some virtue.
There is nothing that so powerfully governs the heart, that so
strongly excites us to wise and reasonable
presence. But as we cannot see, or apprehend the
essence of God, so nothing will so constantly keep us under a
lively sense of the presence of God, as this holy resignation,
which attributes everything to him, and receives everything as
from him.
Could we see a miracle from God, how would our thoughts be
For as there is nothing to affect you in a miracle, but as it is
the action of God, and bespeaks his presence; so when you con
sider God, as acting in all things, and all events, then all things
will become venerable to you, like miracles, and fill you with the
same awful sentiments of the divine presence.
Now you must not reserve the exercise of this pious temper,
to any particular times or occasions, or fancy how resigned you
will be to God, if such or such trials should happen. For this
is amusing yourself with the notion or idea of resignation, instead
of the
Do not therefore please yourself with thinking, how piously
you would act and submit to God in a plague, a famine, or persecution, but be intent upon the
Begin therefore in the smallest matters, and most ordinary
occasions, and accustom your
pious temper, in the lowest occurrences of life. And when a
contempt, an affront, a little injury, loss, or disappointment, or the
smallest events of every day, continually raise your mind to God
in proper acts of resignation, then you may justly hope, that you
shall be numbered amongst those that are resigned and thankful
to God in the greatest trials and afflictions.
IAM now come to six o’clock in the evening, which, accord
ing to the last hour of the day. This is a time so proper for Devotion,
As the labour and action of every state of life, is generally over
at this hour, so this is the proper time for everyone to call him
self to account, and review all his behaviour, from the first action
of the day. The necessity of this examination, is founded upon
the necessity of repentance. For if it be necessary to repent of
all our sins, if the guilt of unrepented sins still continue upon us,
then it is necessary, not only that all our
circumstances and aggravations of them, be known and recol
lected, and brought to repentance.
The
just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteous
ness.’* Which is as much as to say, that then only our sins are
forgiven, and we cleansed from the guilt and unrighteousness
of them, when they are thus confessed, and repented of.
There seems therefore to be the greatest necessity, that all our
daily actions be constantly observed, and brought to account,
lest by a negligence we load ourselves with the guilt of un
repented sins.
This examination therefore of ourselves every evening, is not
only to be considered as a commendable rule, and fit for a wise
You perhaps have hitherto only used yourself to confess your
self a sinner in general, and ask forgiveness in the gross, without
any particular remembrance, or contrition for the particular sins
of that day. And by this practice you are brought to believe,
that the same short, general form of confession of sin in general,
is a sufficient repentance for every day.
Suppose another person should hold, that a confession of our
sins in general once at the end of every week was sufficient; and
that it was as well to confess the sins of seven days altogether, as
to have a particular repentance at the end of every day.
of this opinion, and that you think it is easy enough so show the
danger and folly of it.
*
Yet you cannot bring one argument against such an opinion,
but what will be as good an argument against such a daily repentance, as does not call the
For as you can bring no express text or Scripture against such
an opinion, but must take all your arguments, from the nature of
repentance, and the necessity of a particular repentance for par
ticular sins, so every argument of that kind, must as fully prove
the necessity, of being very particular in our repentance of the
sins of every day. Since nothing can be justly said against leav
ing the sins of the whole week to be repented for in the gross, but
what may as justly be said against a daily repentance, which
considers the sins of that day only in the gross.
Would you tell such a man, that a daily confession was neces
sary to keep up an abhorrence of sin, that the mind would grow
hardened and senseless of the guilt of sin without it? And is
not this as good a reason for requiring, that your daily repentance
be very express and particular for your daily sins? For if confes
sion is to raise an abhorrence of
considers and lays open your particular sins, that brings them to
light with all their circumstances and aggravations, that requires
a particular sorrowful acknowledgment of every sin, must in a
much greater degree fill the mind with an abhorrence of sin, than
that which only, in one and the same form of words, confesses
you only to be a sinner in general. For as this is nothing but
what the greatest Saint may justly say of himself, so the daily re
peating of only such a confession, has nothing in it to make you
truly ashamed of your own way of life.
Again; must you not tell such a man, that by leaving himself
to such a weekly, general confession, he would be in great danger
of forgetting a great many of his sins? But is there any
or force in this argument, unless you suppose that our sins are all
to be remembered, and brought to a particular repentance?
And is it not necessary, that our particular sins be not forgotten,
but particularly remembered in our daily, as in a repentance at
any other time?
So that every argument for a daily confession and repentance,
is the same argument for the confession and repentance of the
particular sins of every day.
Because daily confession has no other reason or necessity, but
our daily sins; and therefore is nothing of what it should be, but
so far as it is a repentance and sorrowful acknowledgment of the
sins of the day.
You would,
impiety, if you were to go to bed without confessing yourself to
A Serious Call to
be a sinner and asking pardon of God; you would not think it
sufficient that you did so yesterday. And yet if without any re
gard to the present day, you only repeat the same form of words
that you used yesterday, the sins of the present day may justly
be looked upon to have had no repentance. For if the sins of
the present day require a new confession, it must be such a new
confession as is proper to itself. For it is the state and condition
of every day, that is to determine the state and manner of your
repentance in the evening; otherwise the same general form of
words is rather an empty formality, that has the appearance of a
duty, than such a true performance of it, as is necessary to make
it truly useful to you.
Let it be supposed, that on a certain day you have been guilty
of these sins; that you have told a vain lie upon yourself, ascribing
something falsely to yourself through pride; that you have been
guilty of detraction, and indulged yourself in some degree of in
temperance. Let it be supposed, that on the next day you have
lived in a contrary manner; that you have neglected no duty of
devotion, and been the rest of the day innocently employed, in
your proper business. Let it be supposed, that on the evening of
both these days you only use the same confession in general, con
sidering it rather as a duty that is to be performed every night, than
as a repentance that is to be suited to the particular state of the
day.
Can it with any reason be said, that each day has had its
proper repentance? Is it not as good sense to say, there is
no difference in the guilt of these days, as to say that there need
be no different repentance at the end of them? Or how can
each of them have its proper repentance, but by its having a repent
ance as large and extensive, and particular as the guilt of each day?
Again, let it be supposed, that in that day, when you had been
guilty of the three notorious sins above-mentioned, that in your
evening repentance, you had only called one of them to mind.
Is it not plain, that the other two are unrepented of, and that
therefore their guilt still abides upon you? So that you are
then in the state of him, who commits himself to the night with
out the repentance for such a day, as had betrayed him into two
such great sins.
Now these are not needless particulars, or such scrupulous
niceties, as a man need not trouble himself about; but are such
plain
repentance is necessary, it is full as necessary that it be rightly
performed, and in due manner.
And
in the plainest manner, that examination, and a careful review of
a Devout and Holy Life.
all the
good rule, but as something as necessary as repentance itself.
If a man is to account for his expenses at night, can it be
thought a needless exactness in him, to take notice of every par
ticular expense in the Day?
And if a man is to repent of his sins at night, can it be thought
too great a piece of scrupulosity in him, to know and call to mind
what sins he is to repent of?
Further; though it should be granted, that a confession in
general may be a sufficient repentance for the end of such days,
as have only the unavoidable frailties of our
yet even this fully proves the absolute necessity of this self-ex
amination: for without this examination, who can know that he
has gone through any day in this manner?
Again: An evening repentance, which thus brings all the
actions of the day to account, is not only necessary to wipe off
the guilt of sin, but is also the most certain way to amend and
perfect our lives.
For it is only such a repentance as this, that touches the heart,
awakens the conscience, and leaves an
For instance, If it should happen, that upon any particular
evening, all that you could charge yourself with should be this,
viz., a hasty, negligent performance of your devotions, or too
much time spent in an impertinent conversation; if the unreason
Or if you should fall into them again the next day; yet if they
were again brought to the same examination, and condemnation
in the presence of God, their happening again, would be such a
proof to you of your own folly and weakness, would cause such a
pain and remorse in your mind, and fill you with such shame and
confusion at yourself, as would, in all probability, make you ex
ceedingly desirous of greater
Now in the case of repeated sins, this would be the certain
benefit, that we should receive from this examination and con
fession; the mind would thereby be made humble, full of sorrow
and deep compunction, and, by degrees, forced into amendment.
Whereas a formal, general confession, that is only considered
as an evening duty, that overlooks the particular mistakes of the
day, and is the same, whether the day be spent ill or well, has
little or no effect upon the mind; a man may use such a daily
A Serious Call to
confession, and yet go on sinning and confessing all his life, with
out any remorse of mind, or true desire of amendment.
For if your own particular sins are left out of your confession,
your confessing of sin in general, has no more effect upon your
mind, than if you had only confessed, that all men in general are
sinners. And there is nothing in any confession to show that it
is yours, but so far as it is a self-accusation, not of sin in general,
or such as is common to all others, but of such particular sins, as
are your own proper shame and reproach.
No other confession, but such as thus discovers and accuses
your own particular guilt, can be an
out this sorrow and compunction of heart, has nothing in it,
either to atone for past sins, or to produce in us any true re
formation and amendment of life.
To proceed: In order to make this examination still further
beneficial, every man should oblige himself to a certain
in it. As every man has something particular in his
stronger inclinations to some vices than others, some infirmities
They are the right eyes, that are not to be spared; but to be
plucked out and cast from us. For as they are the infirmities of
nature, so they have the strength of nature, and must be treated
with great opposition, or they will soon be too strong for us.
He therefore who knows himself most of all subject to anger
and passion, must be very exact and constant in his examination
of this temper every evening. He must find out every slip that
he has made of that kind, whether in thought, or word, or action;
he must shame, and reproach, and accuse himself before God, for
everything that he has said or done in obedience to his
He must no more allow himself to forget the examination of this
temper, than to forget his whole prayers.
Again: If you find that vanity is your prevailing temper, that
is always putting you upon the adornment of your person, and
catching after everything that compliments or flatters your abili
ties, never spare or forget this temper in your evening examina
tion; but confess to God every vanity of thought, or word, or
action, that you have been guilty of, and put yourself to all the
shame and confusion for it that you can.
In this manner, should all people act with regard to their chief frailty, to which their nature most inclines them. And though
Further: As all states and employments of life have their par
ticular dangers and temptations, and expose people more to some
should make it a necessary part of his evening examination, to
consider how he has avoided, or fallen into such sins, as are most
common to his state of life.
For as our business and condition of life has great power over
us, so nothing but such watchfulness at this, can secure us from
those temptations to which it daily exposes us.
The poor man, from his condition of life, is always in danger of
repining and uneasiness; the rich man is most exposed to sensuality and
Again: As it is reasonable to suppose, that every good man
has entered into, or at least proposed to himself some method of
holy living, and set himself some such rules to observe, as are
not common to other people, and only known to himself: so it
should be a constant part of his night recollection, to examine
how, and in what degree, he has observed them, and to reproach
himself before God, for every neglect of them.
By
ing of our time, and the business of our common life: Such rules
as prescribe a certain business,
devotion, mortifications, readings, retirements, conversation, meals, refreshments, sleep, and the like.
Now as good rules relating to all these things, are certain
means of great improvement, and such as all serious
must needs propose to themselves, so they will hardly ever be
observed to any purpose, unless they are made the constant subject of our evening examination.
Lastly, You are not to content yourself with a hasty general
review of the day, but you must enter upon it with deliberation;
begin with the first action of the day, and proceed step by step,
An examination thus managed, will in a little time make you
A Serious Call to
as different from yourself, as a wise man is different from an
Thus much concerning the evening examination.
fill your mind with a just dread and horror of all sin, and help
you to confess your own, in the most passionate contrition and
sorrow of heart.
Consider first, how odious all
baseness it is, and how abominable it renders sinners in the sight
of God. That it is
betwixt an
as he sins, a friend of the devil’s, and carrying on his work
against God. That sin is a greater blemish and defilement of
the soul, than any filth or disease is a defilement of the
And to be content to live in sin, is a much greater baseness, than
to desire to wallow in the mire, or love any bodily impurity.
Consider how you must abhor a creature, that delighted in
nothing but filth and nastiness, that hated everything that was
decent and clean; and let this teach you to apprehend, how
odious that soul that delights in nothing but the impurity of sin,
must appear unto God.
For all sins, whether of sensuality, pride, or falseness, or any
other irregular
diseases of the rational soul. And all
else but the purity, the decency, the beauty and
Again: Learn what horror you ought to have for the guilt of
sin, from the greatness of that atonement which has been made
for it.
God made the world by the breath of his mouth, by a word
speaking, but the redemption of the world has been a work of
longer labour.
How easily God can create beings, we learn from the first
chapter of Genesis; but how difficult it is for infinite
Ponder these great
to become man, to be partaker of all our infirmities, to undergo
a poor, painful, miserable, and contemptible life, to be persecuted,
hated, and at last nailed to a Cross, that by such sufferings, he
might render God propitious to that
That all the bloody sacrifices and atonements of the
Law, were to represent the necessity of this great sacrifice, and
the great Displeasure God bore to sinners.
That the world is still under the curse of certain marks
of God’s displeasure at it; such as famines, plagues, tempests, sickness, diseases and
Consider that all the sons of Adam are to go through a painful,
That all their
repentance, are only made available by that great Intercession,
which is still making for them at the right hand of God.
Consider these great truths; that this mysterious redemption,
all these sacrifices and sufferings, both of God and man, are only
to remove the guilt of sin; and then let this teach you, with what
tears and contrition, you ought to purge yourself from it.
After this general consideration of the guilt of sin, which has
done so much mischief to your nature, and exposed it to so
great punishment, and made it so odious to God, that nothing
less than so great an atonement of the
repentance of our own, can restore us to the divine favour.
Consider next your own particular share in the guilt of sin.
And if you would know with what zeal you ought to repent
yourself, consider how you would exhort another sinner to repent
ance; and what repentance and amendment you would expect
from him, whom you judged to be the greatest sinner in the world.
Now this case, every man may justly reckon to be his own.
And you may fairly look upon yourself to be the greatest sinner
that you know in the world.
For though you may know abundance of people to be guilty
of some gross sins, with which you cannot charge yourself, yet
you may justly condemn yourself, as the greatest sinner that you
know. And that for these following reasons:
First, Because you know more of the folly of your own heart,
than you do of other people’s; and can charge yourself with
various sins, that you only know of yourself, and cannot be sure
that other sinners are guilty of them. So that as you know
more of the folly, the baseness, the pride, the deceitfulness and
negligence of your own heart, than you do of anyone’s else, so
you have just reason to consider yourself as the greatest sinner
that you know: Because you know more of the greatness of your
own sins, than you do of other people’s.
Secondly, The greatness of our guilt arises chiefly, from the
greatness of God’s goodness towards us, from the particular
A Serious Call to
graces and blessings, the favours, the lights, and instructions, that
we have received from him.
Now as these
favours towards us, are the great aggravations of our
God, so they are only known to ourselves. And therefore every
sinner knows more of the aggravations of his own guilt, than he
does of other people’s; and consequently may justly look upon
himself to be the greatest sinner that he knows.
How good God has been to other sinners, what light and instruction he has vouchsafed to them; what blessings and
And this is the reason, why the greatest saints have in all ages
condemned themselves as the greatest sinners, because they
knew some aggravations of their own sins, which they could not
know of other people’s.
The right way therefore to fill your heart with true contrition,
and a deep sense of your own sins, is this: You are not to con
sider, or compare the outward form, or course of your life, with
that of other people’s, and then think yourself to be less sinful
than they, because the outward course of your life is less sinful
than theirs.
But in order to know your own guilt, you must consider your
own particular circumstances, your health, your sickness, your
youth, or age, your
For it is from these circumstances, that everyone is to state
the measure and greatness of his own guilt. And as you know
only these circumstances of your own sins, so you must neces
sarily know how to charge yourself with higher degrees of guilt,
than you can charge upon other people.
God Almighty knows greater sinners, it may be, than you are;
because he sees and knows the circumstances of all men’s sins:
But your own heart, if it is faithful to you, can discover no guilt
so great as your own; because it can only see in you those cir
cumstances, on which great part of the guilt of sin is founded.
You may see sins in other people, that you cannot charge
upon yourself; but then you know a number of circumstances of
your own guilt, that you cannot lay to their Charge.
And perhaps that person that appears at such a distance from
your virtue, and so odious in your eyes, would have been much
better than you are, had he been altogether in your circumstances,
and received all the same favours and graces from God that you
have.
This is a very humbling reflection, and very proper for those
people to make, who measure their
ward course of their lives with that of other people’s.
For look at whom you will, however different from you in his
way of life, yet you can never know, that he has resisted so much
divine grace as you have, or that in all your circumstances, he
would not have been much truer to his duty than you are.
Now this is the reason why
would exhort that man to confess and bewail his sins, whom
you looked upon to be one of the greatest sinners.
Because if you will deal justly, you must fix the charge at
home, and look no further than yourself. For God has given no
one any power of knowing the true greatness of any sins, but his
own: and therefore the greatest sinner that everyone knows, is
himself.
You may easily see, how such a one in the outward course of
his life breaks the laws of God; but then you can never say, that
had you been exactly in all his circumstances, that you should
not have broken them more than he has done.
A serious and frequent reflection upon these things, will
mightily tend to humble us in our own eyes, make us very
apprehensive of the greatness of our own guilt, and very tender
in censuring and condemning other people.
For who would dare to be severe against other people, when,
for ought he can tell, the severity of God may be more due to
him, than to them? Who would exclaim against the guilt of
others, when he considers that he knows more of the greatness
of his own guilt, than he does of theirs?
How often you have resisted God’s holy
motives to goodness you have disregarded; how many particular
blessings you have sinned against; how many good resolutions
you have broken; how many checks and admonitions of con
science you have stifled, you very well know: But how often this
has been the case of other sinners, you know not. And there
fore the greatest sinner that you know, must be yourself.
Whenever therefore you are angry at sin or sinners, whenever
you read or think of God’s indignation and wrath at wicked men,
A Serious Call to
let this teach you to be the most severe in your censure, and
most humble and contrite in the
of your own sins, because you know of no sinner equal to your
self.
Lastly, to conclude this chapter: Having thus examined and
confessed your sins at this hour of the evening, you must after
wards look upon yourself, as still obliged to betake yourself to
prayer again, just before you go to bed.
The subject that is most proper for your prayers at that time,
is death. Let your prayers therefore, then be wholly upon it,
reckoning up all the dangers, uncertainties, and terrors of
Represent to your bed is your grave;
that all things are ready for your interment; that you are to
have no more to do with this world; and that it will be owing
to God’s great Mercy, if you ever see the light of the Sun again,
or have another day to add to your works of piety.
And then commit yourself to sleep, as into the hands of God;
as one that is to have no more opportunities of doing good; but
is to awake amongst spirits that are separate from the body, and
waiting for the judgment of the last great day.
Such a solemn resignation of yourself into the hands of God
every evening, and parting with all the world, as if you were never
to see it any more, and all this in the silence and darkness of
the night, is a practice that will soon have excellent effects upon
your spirit.
For this time of the night is exceeding proper for such prayers,
and meditations; and the likeness which sleep and darkness have
to death, will contribute very much, to make your thoughts about
it the more deep and affecting. So that I hope, you will not let
a time, so proper for such prayers, be ever passed over without
them.
IHAVE now finished what I intended in this Treatise. I
have explained the nature of devotion, both as it signifies
a life devoted to God, and as it signifies a regular method
of daily prayer. I have now only to add a word or two,
in recommendation of a life governed by this spirit of
devotion.
For though it is as reasonable to suppose it the desire of all
Christians to arrive at Christian
all sick men desire to be restored to perfect health; yet ex
perience shows us, that nothing wants more to be pressed,
repeated, and forced upon our minds, than the plainest rules of
Voluntary poverty, virginity, and devout retirement, have been
here recommended, as things not necessary, yet highly beneficial
to those that would make the way to perfection the most easy
and certain. But Christian perfection itself is tied to no par
ticular form of life; but is to be attained, though not with the
same ease, in every state of life.
This has been fully asserted in another place; where it has
been shown, that Christian perfection calls no one (necessarily) to a Cloister, but to the full performance of those duties, which are necessary for all Christians, and common to all states of life.
So that the whole of the matter is plainly this: Virginity, voluntary poverty, and such other
It is only in this manner, and in this sense, that
commend any particularity of life; not as if perfection consisted
in it, but because of its great tendency to produce and support
the true spirit of Christian perfection.
But the thing which is here pressed upon all, is a life of great
and strict devotion; which,
to be equally the duty and happiness of all orders of men.
Neither is there anything in any particular state of life, that can be
justly pleaded as a reason for any abatements of a devout spirit.
* ‘Christian Perfection,’ p. 2.
But because in this polite age of ours, we have so lived away
the spirit of devotion, that many seem afraid even to be suspected
of it, imagining great devotion to be great bigotry; that it is
founded in ignorance and poorness of spirit, and that little, weak,
and dejected minds, are generally the greatest proficients in it:
It shall here be fully shown, that great devotion is the noblest
temper of the greatest and noblest souls; and that they who think
it receives any advantage from ignorance and poorness of spirit,
are themselves not a little, but entirely ignorant of the nature of
devotion, the nature of God, and the nature of themselves.
People of fine parts and learning or of great knowledge in
worldly matters, may perhaps think it hard to have their want of
devotion charged upon their ignorance. But if they will be
content to be tried by
made appear, that a want of devotion, wherever it is, either
amongst the gross ignorance,
and the greatest blindness and insensibility that can happen to a
rational creature.
And that devotion is so far from being the effect of a little and
dejected mind, that it must and will be always highest in the most
perfect natures.
And first, Who reckons it a poor, little mind, for a
man to be full of reverence and duty to his parents, to have the
truest love and honour for his friend, or to excel in the
Are not these highest degree, in the most
And yet what is high devotion, but the highest exercise of these
tempers, of duty, reverence, love, honour, and gratitude to the
Is it a true greatness of mind, to reverence the authority of
your parents, to fear the displeasure of your friend, to dread the
reproaches of your benefactor? and must not this fear, and
Now as the higher these tempers are, the more are they
esteemed amongst men, and are allowed to be so much the
greater proofs of a true greatness of
greater these same tempers are towards God, so much the more
do they prove the nobility, excellence, and greatness of the mind.
So that so long as duty to parents, love to friends, and gratitude
to benefactors, are thought great and honourable tempers;
devotion, which is nothing else but duty, love, and gratitude to
God, must have the highest place amongst our highest
If a Prince, out of his mere goodness, should send you a pardon
a Devout and Holy Life.
by one of his slaves, would you think it a part of your duty to
receive the slave with marks of love, esteem, and gratitude for his
great kindness, in bringing you so great a gift; and at the same
time think it a meanness and poorness of spirit, to show love, esteem,
and gratitude to the Prince, who of his own goodness freely sent
you the pardon?
And yet this would be as reasonable, as to suppose, that love,
esteem, honour, and gratitude, are noble tempers, and instances of
a great soul, when they are paid to our fellow-creatures; but the
effects of a poor, ignorant, dejected mind, when they are paid to
God.
Further; that part of devotion which expresses itself in sorrowful confessions, and
For who does not acknowledge it an instance of an ingenuous, generous, and
Is it not also allowed, that the ingenuity and excellence of a
man’s spirit is much shown, when his sorrow and indignation at
himself rises in proportion to the folly of his crime, and the goodness and
Now if things are thus, then the greater any man’s mind
is, the more he knows of God and himself, the more will he be
disposed to prostrate himself before God, in all the humblest acts
and expressions of repentance.
And the greater the ingenuity, the generosity, judgment, and
And on the other hand, the more dull and ignorant any soul
is, the more base and ungenerous it naturally is, the more senseless
it is of the goodness and purity of God; so much the more averse
will it be to all acts of humble confession and repentance.
Devotion therefore is so far from being best suited to little ignorant minds, that a
And on the other hand, it shall here be made appear by
variety of arguments, that indevotion is founded in the most ex
cessive ignorance.
And, First, Our blessed A Serious Call to
instances of great and frequent devotion. Now if we will grant,
(as all Christians must grant) that their great devotion was
founded in a true
of God, and the nature of man; then it is plain, that all those
that are insensible of the duty of devotion, are in this excessive
state of ignorance, they neither know God, nor themselves, nor
devotion.
For if a right knowledge in these three respects, produces
great devotion, as in the case of our
then a neglect of devotion must be chargeable upon ignorance.
Again; how comes it that most people have recourse to de
votion, when they are in sickness, distress, or
it not because this state shows them more of the want of God,
and their own weakness, than they perceive at other times? Is
it not because their infirmities, their approaching end, convince
them of something, which they did not half perceive before?
Now if devotion at these seasons, is the effect of a better know of God, and ourselves, then the neglect of devotion at other
Further; as indevotion is ignorance, so it is the most shameful
ignorance, and such as is to be charged with the greatest folly.
This will fully appear to anyone that considers, by what
we are to judge of the excellency of any knowledge, or the shame
fulness of any ignorance.
Now knowledge itself would be no excellence, nor ignorance any
But if this be true, then it follows plainly, that that knowledge
which is most suitable to our rational
concerns us, as such, to know, is our highest, finest knowledge;
and that ignorance which relates to things that are most essential
to us, as rational creatures, and which we are most concerned to
know, is, of all others, the most gross and shameful ignorance.
If therefore there be any things that concern us more than
others, if there be any
he that has the fullest knowledge of these things, that sees these
truths in the clearest, strongest light, has, of all others, as a rational creature, the clearest
If therefore our relation to God be our greatest relation, if our
advancement in his favour be our highest advancement, he that
has the highest notions of the excellence of this relation, he that
most strongly perceives the highest worth, and great value of
holiness and virtue, that judges everything little, when compared
with it, proves himself to be master of the best, and most excellent
knowledge.
If a Judge had fine skill in painting, architecture, and
If a Bishop should be a man of great address and skill in the
arts of preferment, and understanding how to raise and enrich
his family in the world, but should have no taste or
If we do not judge, and pronounce after this manner, our
But now, if a Judge is to be reckoned ignorant, if he does not
feel and perceive the value, and worth of justice; if a Bishop is
to be looked upon as void of understanding, if he is more
in other things, than in the exalted virtues of his
If a Gentleman should fancy that the Moon is no bigger than
it appears to the eye, that it shines with its own light, that all the
Stars are only so many spots of light; if after reading books of
Astronomy, he should still continue in the same opinion, most
people would think he had but a poor apprehension.
But if the same person should think it better to provide for a
short life here, than to prepare for a glorious eternity hereafter,
that it was better to be rich, than to be eminent in piety, his
ignorance and dulness would be too great to be compared to any
thing else.
There is no knowledge that deserves so much as the name of
it, but that which we call judgment.
And that is the most clear and improved
judges best of the value and worth of things. All the rest is but
the capacity of an animal, it is but mere seeing and hearing.
And there is no excellence of any knowledge in us, till we
exercise our judgment, and judge well of the value and worth of
things.
If a man had eyes that could see beyond the Stars, or pierce
into the heart of the earth, but could not see the things that were
before him, or discern anything that was serviceable to him, we
should reckon that he had but a very bad sight.
If another had ears that received sounds from the world in the
A Serious Call to
Moon, but could hear nothing that was said or done upon earth,
we should look upon him as bad as deaf.
In like manner, if a man has a memory that can retain a great
many things; if he has a wit that is
As certain therefore as piety, virtue, and eternal
of the most concern to man, as certain as the
nature, and relation to God, are the most glorious circumstances
of our nature, so certain is it, that he who dwells most in con
templation of them, whose heart is most affected with them, who
And if we do not reason after this manner, or allow this
method of reasoning, we have no arguments to prove, that there
is any such thing as a wise man, or a fool.
For a man is proved to be a natural, not because he wants any
of his senses, or is incapable of everything, but because he has no
judgment, and is entirely ignorant of the worth and value of
things. He will perhaps choose a fine coat rather than a large estate.
And as the essence of stupidity consists in the entire want of
judgment, in an ignorance of the value of things, so on the other
hand, the essence of
excellency of our judgment, or in the knowledge of the worth and
value of things.
This therefore is an undeniable proof, that he who knows most
of the value of the best things, who judges, most rightly of the
things which are of most concern to him, who had rather have
his soul in a state of Christian
of worldly highest wisdom, and is at the
On the other hand, he that can talk the
repeat a great deal of History, but prefers the
He is not called a natural by men, but he must appear to God,
and heavenly Beings, as in a more excessive state of stupidity,
and will sooner or later certainly appear so to himself.
But now if this be undeniably plain, that we cannot prove a
man to be a fool, but by showing that he has no knowledge of
things that are good and evil to himself, then it is undeniably
plain, that we cannot prove a man to be wise, but by showing
that he has the fullest greatest
good, and his greatest evil.
If therefore God be our greatest good; if there can be no good
but in his
is plain, that he who judges it the best thing he can do to
please God to the utmost of his power, who worships and adores
him with all his heart and soul, who had rather have a pious mind,
than all the dignities and honours in the world, shows himself to
be in the highest state of human
To proceed; we know how our blessed
which is in heaven.’
And if any number of heavenly spirits, were to leave their
habitations in the light of God, and be for a while united to
human bodies, they would certainly tend towards God in all
their
flesh and blood.
They would certainly act in this manner, because they would
know that God was the only good of all
they were in the body, or out of the body, in heaven, or on earth,
they must have every degree of their greatness and happiness
from God alone.
All human spirits, therefore, the more exalted they are, the
Devotion, therefore, is the greatest sign of a great and noble
genius, it supposes a
If an human spirit, should imagine some mighty Prince to be
greater than God, we should take it for a poor, ignorant creature;
all people would acknowledge such an imagination to be the
height of stupidity.
But if this same human spirit, should think it better to be
devoted to some mighty Prince, than to be devoted to God,
would not this still be a greater proof of a poor, ignorant, and
blinded
Yet this is what all people do, who think anything better, greater, or
So that which way soever we consider this matter, it plainly
appears, that devotion is an instance of great judgment, of an
The greatest spirits of the Pythagoras,
Socrates, Plato, Epictetus, Marcus Antoninus, &c., owed all their
They were full of God; their
tended only to deliver men from the vanity of the world, the
slavery of spirits that
Again; To see the dignity and greatness of a devout spirit,
we need only compare it with other tempers, that are chosen in
the room of it.
St. John tells us, that ‘all in the world’ (that is, all the
Let us therefore consider, what wisdom or excellency of mind
there is required, to qualify a man for these delights.
Let us suppose a man given up to the pleasures of the
surely this can be no fine excellent
For if he has but the animal, he is great enough
for these enjoyments.
Let us suppose him to be devoted to honours and splendours,
to be fond of glitter and equipage; now if this temper required
any great parts or fine
of it, it would prove the world to abound with great wits.
Let us suppose him to be in love with riches, and to be so
eager in the pursuit of them, as never to think he has enough;
now this excellent sense,
or great understanding, that blindness and folly are the best
supports that it hath.
Let us lastly suppose him in another light, not singly devoted
to any of these passions, but, as it mostly happens, governed by
all of them in their turns; does this show a more
than to spend his days in the service of any one of them?
For to have a taste for these things, and to be devoted to
them, is so far from arguing any tolerable parts or understanding,
that they are suited to the dullest, weakest minds, and require
only a great deal of pride and folly to be greatly
But now let Libertines bring any such charge as this, if they
Let them but grant that there is a God, and
then they have granted enough to justify the
support the
For if there is an infinitely wise and good Creator, in whom
we live, move, and have our being, whose Providence governs
all things in all places, surely it must be the highest act of our
understanding to conceive rightly of him; it must be the noblest
instance of judgment, the most exalted temper of our
to worship and adore this universal Providence, to conform to
its laws, to study its wisdom, and to live and act everywhere, as
in the presence of this infinitely good and wise Creator.
Now he that lives thus, lives in the spirit of devotion.
And what can show such great parts, and so fine an under
standing, as to live in this
For if God is wisdom, surely he must be the wisest man in the
world, who most conforms to the wisdom of God, who best obeys
his Providence, who enters furthest into his designs, and does all
he can, that God’s will may be done on earth, as it is done in
heaven.
A devout man makes a true use of his reason; he sees through
the vanity of the world, discovers the corruption of his nature,
and the blindness of his law which is
not visible to vulgar eyes; he enters into the world of spirits;
he compares the greatest things, sets eternity against time; and
chooses rather to be for ever great in the presence of God when
he dies, than to have the greatest share of worldly pleasure
whilst he lives.
He that is devout, is full of these great thoughts; he lives upon
these noble reflections, and conducts himself by rules and principles, which can only be apprehended, admired, and loved by
There is nothing therefore that shows so great a
nothing that so raises us above vulgar spirits, nothing that so
plainly declares an heroic greatness of mind, as great devotion.
When you suppose a man to be a saint, or all devotion, you
have raised him as much above all other conditions of life, as a
Philosopher is above an
Lastly, Courage and bravery are words of a great sound, and
seem to signify an heroic spirit; but yet humility, which seems
to be the lowest, meanest part of devotion, is a more certain
argument of a noble and courageous mind.
For humility contends with greater enemies, is more constantly
engaged, more violently assaulted, bears more, suffers more, and
requires greater courage to support itself, than any instances of
worldly bravery.
A man who dares be poor and contemptible in the eyes of the
world, to approve himself to God; who resists and rejects all
human glory, who opposes the clamour of his
meekly puts up with all injuries and wrongs, and dares stay for
his reward till the invisible hand of God gives to everyone their
proper places; endures a much greater trial, and exerts a nobler fortitude, than he that is bold and daring in the fire of battle.
For the boldness of a soldier, if he is a stranger to the spirit
of devotion, is rather weakness than fortitude; it is at best but
mad passion, and heated spirits, and has no more true valour in
it than the fury of a tiger.
For as we cannot lift up a hand, or stir a foot, but by a power
that is lent us from God; so bold actions that are not directed
by the laws of God, as so many executions of his will, are no
more true bravery, than sedate malice is Christian patience.
Reason is our universal law, that obliges us in all places, and
at all times; and no
are instances of our obedience to
And it is as base and cowardly, to be bold and daring against
the principle of reason and justice, as to be bold and daring in
lying and perjury.
Would we therefore exercise a true fortitude, we must do all in
the spirit of devotion, be valiant against the corruptions of the
world, and the lusts of the flesh, and the temptations of the devil:
For to be daring and courageous against these enemies, is the
noblest bravery that an human mind is capable of.
a great devotion to be bigotry and poorness of spirit; that by
these considerations they may see, how poor and mean all other
tempers are, if compared to it; that they may see, that all
worldly attainments, whether of greatness, wisdom, or bravery,
are but empty sounds; and there is nothing wise, or