AN EXHORTATION TO CHRISTIAN PERFECTION.
WHOEVER hath read the foregoing chapters with attention, is, I hope, sufficiently instructed in the knowledge of Christian perfection. He hath seen that it requireth us to devote ourselves wholly unto God, to make the ends and designs of religion the ends and designs of our actions; that it called us to be born again of God, to live by the light of his Holy Spirit, to renounce the world, and all worldly tempers; to practice a constant universal self-denial; to make daily war with the corruption and disorder of our nature; to prepare ourselves for divine grace, by a purity and holiness of conversation; to avoid all pleasures and cares which grieve the Holy Spirit, and separate him from us; to live in a daily constant state of prayer and devotion; and as the crown of all, to imitate the life and spirit of the holy Jesus. It now only remains, that I exhort the reader to labor after this Christian perfection. Was I to exhort any one to the study of poetry or eloquence, to labor to be rich and great, or to spend his time in mathematics, or other learning, I could only produce such reasons as are fit to delude the vanity of men, who are ready to be taken with any appearance of excellence. For if the same person was to ask me, what it signifies to be a poet or eloquent, what advantage it would be to him to be a great mathematician, or a great statesman, I must be forced to answer, that these things would signify just as much to him as they now signify to those poets, orators, mathematicians, and statesmen, whose bodies have been a long while lost among common dust. For if a man will be so thoughtful and inquisitive as to put the question to every human enjoyment, and ask what real good it would bring along with it, he would soon find that every success amongst the things of this life leaves us just in the same state of want and emptiness in which it found us. If a man asks why he should labor to be the first mathematician, orator, or statesman, the answer is easily given, because of the fame and honor of such a distinction; but if he was to ask again why he should thirst after fame and honor, or what good they would do him, he must stay long enough for an answer. For when we are at the top of all human attainments, we are still at the bottom of all human misery, and have no farther advancement towards true happiness than those whom we see in the want of all these excellences. Whether a man die before he has written poems, compiled histories, or raised an estate, signifies no more than whether he died an hundred, or a thousand years ago. On the contrary, when any one is exhorted to labor after Christian perfection, if he then asks what good it will do him, the answer is ready, that it would do him a good which eternity only can measure; that it will deliver him from a state of vanity and misery; that it will raise him from the poor enjoyments of an animal life; that it will give him a glorious body, carry him in spite of death and the grave to live with God, be glorious among angels and heavenly beings, and be full of an infinite happiness to all eternity. If therefore we could but make men so reasonable as to make the shortest inquiry into the nature of things, we should have no occasion to exhort them to strive after Christian perfection. Two questions we see put an end to all the vain projects and designs of human life; they are all so empty and useless to our happiness, that they cannot stand the trial of a second question. And on the other hand, it is but asking, whether Christian perfection tends to make us have no other care. One single thought upon the eternal happiness that it leads to, is sufficient to make all people saints. This shows us how inexcusable all Christians are who are devoted to the things of this life; it is not because they want fine parts, or are unable to make deep reflections; but it is because they reject the first principles of common sense; they will not so much as ask what those things are which they are laboring after. Did they but use thus much reason we need not desire them to be wiser, in order to seek only eternal happiness. As a shadow at the first trial of the hand appears to have no substance; so all human enjoyments sink away into nothing, at the first approach of a serious thought. We must not therefore complain of the weakness and ignorance of our nature, or the deceitful appearances of worldly enjoyments, because the lowest degree of reason, if listened to, is sufficient to discover the cheat. If you will, you may blindly do what the rest of the world are doing, you may follow the cry, and run yourself out of breath for you know not what. But if you will but show so much sense as to ask why you should take such a chase, you will need no deeper a reflection than this, to make you leave the broad way, and let the wise and learned, the rich and great, be mad by themselves. Thus much common sense will turn your eyes towards God, will separate you from all the appearances of worldly felicity, and fill you with one only ambition after eternal happiness. When Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, told Cineas what great conquests he intended to make, and how many nations he would subdue; Cineas asked him what he would do when all this was done: he answered, we will then live at ease, and enjoy ourselves and our friends. Cineas replied to this purpose: Why2then, sir, do we not now live at ease, and enjoy ourselves? If ease and quiet be the utmost of our views and designs, why do we run away from it at present? What occasion for all these battles and expeditions all over the world? The moral of this story is very extensive, and carries a lesson of instruction to much the greatest part of the Christian world. When a Christian is eager after the distinctions of this life, proposing some mighty heights to which he will raise himself, either in riches, learning, or power; if one was to ask him what he will do when he has obtained them, I suppose his answer would be, that he would then retire, and devote himself to holiness and piety. May we not here justly say with Cineas, if piety and holiness is the chief end of man, if these are your last proposal, the upshot of all your labors, why do you not enter upon happiness at present? Why all this wandering out of your way? Why must you go so far about? For to devote yourself to the world, though it is your last proposal to retire from it to holiness and piety, is like Pyrrhus' seeking of battles, when he proposed to live in ease and pleasure with his friends. I believe there are very few Christians, who have it not in their heads at least to be some time or other holy and virtuous, and readily own, that he is the happy man that dies truly humble, holy, and heavenly-minded. Now this opinion, which all people are possessed of, makes the projects and designs of life more mad and frantic than the battles of Pyrrhus. For one may not only say to such people, why do you neglect the present happiness of these virtues; but one must farther add, why are you engaged in ways of life that are quite the contrary to them? You want to be rich and great; is it that riches and greatness may make you more meek and humble, and heavenly-minded? Do you aspire after the distinctions of honor, that you may more truly feel the misery and meanness of your nature, and be made more lowly in your own eyes? Do you plunge yourself into worldly cares, your passions fix upon variety of objects, that you may love God with all your heart, and raise your affections to things above? You acknowledge humility to be essential to salvation, you make it the chief care of your life to run away from it, to raise yourself in the show and figure of the world? Is not this fighting Pyrrhus' battles? Nay, is it not a much more egregious folly? For you own, that you cannot be saved without true humility, a real lowliness of temper, and yet are doing all you can to keep it out of your heart. What is there in the conduct of the maddest hero that can equal this folly? Suppose that strict sobriety was the sole end of man, the necessary condition of happiness, what would you think of those people who, knowing and believing this to be true, should yet spend their time in getting quantities of all sorts of the strongest liquors? What would you think if you saw them constantly enlarging their cellars, filling every room with drams, and contending who should have the largest quantities of the strongest liquors? Now this is the folly and madness of the lives of Christians; they are as wise and reasonable, as they are who are always providing strong liquors in order to be strictly sober. For all the enjoyments of human life, which Christians so aspire after, whether of riches, greatness, honors, and pleasures, are as much the dangers and temptations of a Christian, as strong and pleasant liquors are the dangers and temptations of a man that is to drink only water. Now if you was to ask such a man, why he is continually increasing his stock of liquors, when he is to abstain from them all, and only drink water; he can give you as good a reason as those Christians who spare no pains to acquire riches, greatness, and pleasures, at the same time that their salvation depends upon their renouncing them all, upon their heavenly-mindedness, great humility, and constant self-denial. But it may be, you are not devoted to these things; you have a greater soul than to be taken with riches, equipage, or the pageantry of state; you are deeply engaged in learning and sciences. You, it may be, are squaring the circle, or settling the distances of the stars, or busy in the study of exotic plants. You, it may be, are comparing the ancient languages, have made deep discoveries in the change of letters, and perhaps know how to write an inscription in as obscure characters as if you had lived above two thousand years ago. Or, perhaps, you are meditating upon the heathen theology, collecting the history of their gods and goddesses; or you are scanning some ancient Greek or Roman poet, and making an exact collection of their scattered remains, scraps of sentences, and broken words. You are not exposing your life in the field like a mad Alexander or Caesar, but you are again and again fighting over all their battles in your study; you are collecting the names of their generals, the number of their troops, the manner of their arms, and can give the world a more exact account of the times, places, and circumstances of their battles, than has yet been seen. You will perhaps ask, whether this be not a very commendable inquiry? An excellent use of our time and parts? Whether people may not be very reasonably exhorted to these kind of studies? It may be answered, that all inquiries (however learned they are reckoned) which do not improve the mind in some useful knowledge, that do not make us wise in religious wisdom, are to be reckoned amongst our greatest vanities and follies. All speculations that will not stand this trial are to be looked upon as the wanderings and impertinences of a disordered understanding. It is strange want of thought to imagine that an inquiry is ever the better, because it is taken up in Greek and Latin. Why is it not as wise and reasonable for a scholar to dwell in the kitchen, and converse with cooks, as to go into his study to meditate upon the Roman art of cookery, and learn their variety of sauces? A grave doctor in divinity would perhaps think his time very ill employed, that he was acting below his character, if he was to be an amanuensis to some modern poet. Why then does he think it suitable with the weight of his calling to have been a drudge to some ancient poet, counting his syllables for several years, only to help the world to read what some irreligious, wanton, or epicurean poet has written? It is certainly a much more reasonable employment to be making clothes, than to spend one's time in reading or writing upon the Grecian or Roman garments. If you can show me a learning that makes man truly sensible of his duty, that fills the mind with true light, that reforms the heart, that disposes it right towards God, that makes us more reasonable in all our actions, that inspires us with fortitude, humility, devotion, and contempt of the world, that gives us right notions of the greatness of religion, the sanctity of morality, the littleness of every thing but God, the vanity of our passions, and the misery and corruption of our nature; I will own myself an advocate for such learning. But to think that time is well employed because it is spent in such speculations as the vulgar cannot reach, or because they are fetched from antiquity, or found in Greek or Latin, is a folly that may be called as great as any in human life. They who think that these inquiries are consistent with a heart entirely devoted to God, have not enough considered human nature; they would do well to consult our Saviour's rebuke of Martha. She did not seem to have wandered far from her proper business; she was not busy in the history of housewifry, or inquiring into the original of the distaff;3she was only taken up with her present affairs, and cumbered about much serving: but our blessed Saviour said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things. But one thing is needful. Now if scholars and divines can show that they only apply to such studies as are serviceable to the one thing needful; if they are busy in a philosophy and learning that has a necessary connection with the devotion of the heart to God: such learning becomes the followers of Christ. But if they trifle in Greek and Latin, and only assist other people to follow them in the same impertinence, such learning may be reckoned amongst the corruptions of the age. For all the arguments against pride, covetousness and vanity, are as good arguments against such learning; it being the same irreligion to be devoted to any false learning, as to be devoted to any other false good. A satisfaction in any vain ornaments of the body, whether of clothes or paint, is no greater a mistake than a satisfaction in the vain accomplishments of the mind. A man that is eager and laborious in the search and study of that which does him no good, is the same poor little soul as the miser that is happy in his bags that are laid by in the dust. A ridiculous application of our money, time, and understanding, is the same fault, whether it be found amongst the finery of fops, the hoards of misers, or the trinkets of virtuosos. It is the same false turn of mind, the same mistake of the use of things, the same ignorance of the state of man, and the same offense against religion. When we see a man brooding over bags of wealth, and laboring to die rich, we do not only accuse him of a poor littleness of mind, but we charge him with great guilt, we do not allow such an one to be in a state of religion. Let us therefore suppose, that this covetous man was, on a sudden, changed into another temper, that he was grown polite and curious, that he was fond and eager after the most useless things, if they were but ancient or scarce; let us suppose that he is now as greedy of original paintings as he was before of money; that he will give more for a dog's head, or a snuff of a candle by a good hand, than ever he gave in charity all his life; is he a wiser man, or a better Christian, than he was before? Has he more overcome the world, or is he more devoted to God, than when his soul was locked up with his money? Alas! his heart is in the same false satisfaction, he is in the same state of ignorance, is as far from the true good, as much separated from God, as he whose soul is cleaving to the dust; he lives in the same vanity, and must die in the same misery, as he that lives and dies in foppery or covetousness. Here therefore I place my first argument for Christian perfection; I exhort thee to labor after it, because there is no choice of any thing else for thee to labor after, there is nothing else that the reason of man can exhort thee to. The whole world has nothing to offer thee in its stead; choose what other way thou wilt, thou hast chosen nothing but vanity and misery; for all the different ways of the world, are only different ways of deluding thyself this only excels that, as one vanity can excel another. If thou wilt make thyself more happy than those who pursue their own destruction, if thou wilt show thyself wiser than fops, more reasonable than sordid misers, thou must pursue that happiness, and study that wisdom which leads to God; for every other pursuit, every other way of life, however polite or plausible in the opinions of the world, has a folly and stupidity in it, that is equal to the folly and stupidity of fops and misers. For a while shut thine eyes, and think of the silliest creature in human life; imagine to thyself something that thou thinkest the most poor and vain in the way of the world. Now thou art thyself that poor and vain creature, unless thou art devoted to God, and laboring after Christian perfection: unless this he thy difference from the world, thou canst not think of any creature more silly than thyself. For it is not any post, or condition, or figure in life, that makes one man wiser or better than another; if thou art a proud scholar, a worldly priest, an indevout philosopher, a crafty politician, an ambitious statesman, thy imagination cannot invent a way of life that has more of vanity or folly than thine own. Every one has wisdom enough to see, what variety of fools and madmen there are in the world. Now perhaps we cannot do better, than to find out the true reason of the folly and madness of any sort of life. Ask thyself therefore wherein consists the folly of any sort of life, which is most condemned in thy judgment. Is a drunken fox-hunter leading a foolish life? Wherein consists the folly of it? Is it because he is not getting money upon the exchange? Or because he is not wrangling at the bar? Or not waiting at court? No, the folly of it consists in this, that he is not living like a reasonable Christian; that he is not acting like a being, that is born again of God, that has a salvation to work out with fear and trembling; that he is throwing away his time amongst dogs, and noise, and intemperance, which he should devote to watching and prayer, and the improvement of his soul in all holy tempers. Now if this is the folly (as it most certainly is) of an intemperate fox-hunter, it shows us an equal folly in every other way of life, where the same great ends of living are neglected. Though we are shining at the bar, making a figure at court, great at the exchange, or famous in the schools of philosophy, we are yet the same despicable creatures as the intemperate fox-hunter, if these states of life keep us as far from the improvements of holiness, and heavenly affections. There is nothing greater in any way of life than fox-hunting, it is all the same folly, unless religion be the beginning and ending, the rule and measure of it all. For it is as noble a wisdom, and shows as great a soul, to die less holy and heavenly for the sake of hunting and noise, as for the sake of any thing that the world can give us. If we will judge and condemn things by our tempers and fancies, we may think some ways of life mighty wise, and others mighty foolish; we may think it glorious to be pursuing methods of fame and wealth, and foolish to be killing foxes; but if we will let reason and religion show us the folly and wisdom of things, we shall easily see that all ways of life are equally little and foolish, but those that perfect and exalt our souls in holiness. No one therefore can complain of want of understanding in the conduct of his life, for a small share of sense is sufficient to condemn some degrees of vanity, which we see in the world; every one is able and ready to do it. And if we are but able to condemn the vainest sort of life upon true reasons, the same reasons will serve to show, that all sorts of life are equally vain, but the one life of religion. Thou hast therefore, as I observed before, no choice of any thing to labor after instead of Christian perfection; if thou canst be content to be the poorest, vainest, miserablest thing upon earth, thou mayest neglect Christian perfection. But if thou seest any thing in human life that thou abhorrest and despisest; if there be any person that lives so, as thou shouldst fear to live, thou must turn thy heart to God, thou must labor after Christian perfection; for there is nothing in nature but this, that can set thee above the vaingest, proudest, and most miserable of human creatures. Thou art every thing that thou canst abhor and despise, every thing that thou canst fear, thou art full of every folly that thy mind can imagine, unless thou art all devoted to God. Secondly, another argument for Christian perfection shall be taken from the necessity of it. I have all along shown that Christian perfection consists in the right performance of our necessary duties; that it implies such holy tempers, as constitute that common piety, which is necessary to salvation; and consequently it is such a piety as is equally necessary to be attained by all people. But besides this, we are to consider, that God only knows what abatements of holiness he will accept; and therefore we can have no security of our salvation but by doing our utmost to deserve it. There are different degrees of holiness, which it may please God to reward; but we cannot state these different degrees ourselves; but must all labor to be as eminent as we can, and then our different improvements must be left to God. We have nothing to trust to, but the sincerity of our endeavors;4and our endeavors may well be thought to want sincerity, unless they are endeavors after the utmost perfection. As soon as we stop at any degrees of goodness, we put an end to our goodness, which is only valuable, by having all the degrees that we can add to it. Our highest improvement is a state of great imperfection, but will be accepted by God, because it is our highest improvement. But any other state of life, where we are not doing all that we can to purify and perfect our souls, is a state that can give us no comfort or satisfaction; because so far as we are wanting in any ways of piety that are in our power, so far as we are defective in any holy tempers, of which we are capable; so far we make our very salvation uncertain. For no one can have any assurance that he pleases God, or puts himself with the terms of Christian salvation, but he who serves God with his whole heart, and with the utmost of his strength. For though the Christian religion be a covenant of mercy, for the pardon and salvation of frail and imperfect creatures; yet we cannot say that we are within the conditions of that mercy, till we do all we can in our frail and imperfect state. So that though we are not called to such a perfection, as implies a sinless state, though our imperfections will not prevent the divine mercy; yet it cannot be proved, that God has any terms of favor for those who do not labor to be as perfect as they can be. Different attainments in piety will carry different persons to heaven; yet none of us can have any satisfaction that we are going thither, but by arriving at all that change of nature, which is in our power. It is as necessary therefore to labor after perfection, as to labor after our salvation; because we can have no satisfaction that a failure in one will not deprive us of the other. When therefore you are exhorted to Christian perfection, you must remember, that you are only exhorted to secure your salvation; you must remember also, that you have no other rule to judge of your perfection, but by the sincerity and fullness of your endeavors to arrive at it.—Law.