Advice to a Friend, Part 16
XVI.
BUT if you be ſo much diſcompoſed at any time, that you cannot get your thoughts cloſe to this buſineſs, nor find any relief in any of the foregoing counſels; I muſt then, in the laſt place, ſend you to a never failing remedy; which is, to Exerciſe a great deal of patience towards your ſelf. I am ſo well aſſured of your goodneſs, and that my judgment is not herein blinded by my affection to you; that I dare conclude with this Advice: Be content to be dull ſometime, and able to do nothing as you would; and yet do not think the worſe of your ſelf for it. But if it do ſtir up any ſuſpicions in your mind, of you do not know what fault; yet never bluſter at your ſelf, but with a calm and gentle ſpirit ſuffer this diſtemper. Look upon your ſelf as ſick, and think that it is not good now to ſtir any humours. And therefore ſtrive not too much neither with your ſelf [do not diſtruſt this counſel] when you are thus melancholy; for that will but caſt you more into it. You will be the ſooner eaſed, if you do as well as you can; and add not a greater load to your ſpirit, by your own fretful thoughts at this untoward indiſpoſition.
You muſt conſider that our Bodies being a part of this World, will be obnoxious to thoſe changes which are in things adjacent to them. And that your Soul being united to your Body, cannot but feel its viciſſitudes: Juſt as when the Houſe ſmoaks, the Inhabitant is offended, unleſs he can ſtep out of Doors.
Conſider alſo that the ſame work is not required of a weak, and of a ſtronger Perſon. The Nemalim and the Gemalim (as the Jews ſpeaks) muſt not be alike loaded: that is, the Ants cannot carry ſuch a Burden as the Camels.
You muſt thank God it is no worſe with you; and that you have not quite forgot Him. Thank him, I ſay, that you have any uſe of patience, and that you are not under an abſolute ſtupidity.
Remember likewiſe that it will be better with you. As long as there is the ſame Sun in Heaven, the Clouds will be diſperſed, and we ſhall have fair days as well as foul: and as long as our Lord lives and changes not, there will be a brighter ſeaſon, and we ſhall be warm as well as cold.
Think likewiſe how unworthy the beſt of us is, to live always under the Sun-beames. And that as there are many Countrys more North … gland, who in the depth of our Winter, are in a long and diſmal Night: ſo there are many Souls who are in a colder caſe, and more remote from the Sun of righteouſneſs, than yours is.
But however think, that after you have done what you can, it is the will of God that you ſhould be as you are. And if this dulneſs pleaſe him, it need not diſpleaſe you.
Remember alſo, that he is not perfect in patience, who can bear with others, but not with himſelf.
And again, that there is good reaſon you ſhould bear with your ſelf; becauſe accidentally this dulneſs will breed a greater activity, when you come out of it: Both out of juſtice, that you may make ſome recompence for that drowſineſs; and out of gratitude to him, by whoſe goodneſs you were delivered from it. For Nature, you know, inſtructs us to be very kind to thoſe who have helpt us ou… of a very great diſtreſs; and it is not eaſie, to blot their readineſs to relieve us out of our memories.
And beſides, it is manifeſt there are ſome kinds of dulneſs and indiſpoſition, which ariſe from the meer neceſſity of Nature: With which we can no more reaſonably quarrel; than we do becauſe it rains or ſnows, when we would have it fair weather. Can it be expected, for inſtance, that a Woman with Child ſhould be ſo vigorous as ſhe was wont? She muſt be content perhaps to ſpend that time in vomiting, which once ſhe did in praying. It muſt not put her to pain in this caſe, that ſhe cannot read or think ſo long, or with ſo much delight, or with ſuch clearneſs of underſtanding as formerly ſhe could: but ſhe muſt comply with her condition, and, conſidering no more can be done in ſuch circumſtances, believe that God requires no more. There is as much reaſon to be troubled, becauſe ſhe hath not Wings to fly, or cannot walk now as faſt up her ſtairs, as when ſhe had no burden; as to chide her ſelf that ſhe cannot be ſo earneſt, ſo long, ſo chearful as formerly in the performance of Holy Duties.
There are many caſes like to this▪ in which there is no more caution neceſſary, but to ſee that too much care of our eaſe, and indulgence to our preſent infirmity (which muſt at ſuch a time be liberally allowed) do not tempt us to be negligent in that, which it is in our power to perform. We may often retire to God in ſhorter thoughts, and affectionate longings and pantings after him; and thereby keeping our hearts in a glowing temper, we may prevent that chilneſs and lazineſs, which otherwiſe might creep upon us, and make us imagine our ſelves leſs able than we are. And particularly I would adviſe you, on ſuch occaſions, to lift up your Soul frequently to God in earneſt deſires, beſeeching Him to preſerve you from cheating your ſelf; and that he would help you to diſcern clearly when it is the flattery, and when it is the meer weakneſs of Fleſh and Blood, that hinders you from doing as you were wont.
When you caſt a glance, I ſay, towards Heaven, and ſend up a ſigh thither now and then, (as you are able) let this be one of your deſires; that God would be ſo gracious, as to give you to feel plainly, when meer neceſſity requires your attendance on your Body, and when it calls for more than it needs. For he loves that in every thing we ſhould make known our requeſts to Him, and will certainly ſome way or other ſatisfie your mind in ſuch concernments. And when you have uſed the beſt judgment you have and can procure, together with your Prayers, about them; then I hope you will be chearful, and let your thoughts trouble you no more. Or if a thought ſhould happen to ſtart up and ſtrike your mind, telling you that you are lazy yet believe, I beſeech you, your more deliberate, and not theſe ſuddain concluſions.
There is one caſe, I know, of this kind, wherein though it be certain that it is impoſſible for us to do as we were wont, and that we are not hindred by any fault in our will, but by the meer indiſpoſition of nature, yet it may be hard ſometime to avoid dejected and complaining thoughts upon this account: It is in ſickneſs; when the Mind neceſſarily languiſhes with the Body. You may chance then to imagine that ſome ſin or other is the cauſe of this Correction (and ſo you have drawn this diſability upon your ſelf) for which you cannot now be humbled as you deſire. But I hope, My Friend, that you take ſuch an exact view of your life, that ſickneſs will not let you ſee any fault, that was not viſible to you before. And I know you to be wiſer, than to torment your ſelf with a fancy that there is ſome ſin lurking in you, though you cannot find it out. But if any thing ſhould diſcover it ſelf to you, which was not ſo evident before; let me beſeech you, not to paſs any hard cenſure upon your ſelf: But to remember that this hath been bewailed whenſoever you lamented the general infirmity of your nature; and that now perhaps it is repreſented to you more ugly than it doth deſerve, or if it be not▪ yet it is ſufficient only to beg of God to accept your hearty confeſſion and your promiſe of amendment (when you are able) and to deſire your ſpiritual guide to be the witneſs of your ſincere reſolution, and to give you abſolution, and his bleſſing; and ſo reſt ſatisfied.
But there may be another reaſon likewiſe aſſigned of our heavineſs at certain ſeaſons, which I have no… yet named: and that is, the withholding, in a great meaſure, of tha… ſtrength and power which was upon us from the Holy-Ghoſt, to raiſe and elevate us to an high pitch of love, activity, and joy in well doing. For as the help of that doth lift us up above our ſelves, ſo, when it much abates, we are apt to fall as much below our ſelves; and to be ſurpriſed with ſadneſs and dejection of ſpirit, to ſee our ſelves ſo ſtrangely changed. And this may be denyed us for ſeveral cauſes; either becauſe we have not improved it, ſo well as we might; or becauſe our Lord ſees that our Nature cannot bear always ſuch extraordinary motions; or that he may make us more ſenſible of his favours, and raiſe their price and value in our eſteem; or that he may try our ſtrength, as a Mother lets go her hold of the Child, to make it feel its Feet; or that he may thereby bow our wills more abſolutely to his, and break our ſelf-love, which deſires nothing but pleaſure; or that he may prove whether we will love him for himſelf, and not for the delicate entertainments which he gives us; or for ſome ſuch cauſe unknown to you and me, and every body elſe.
And ſhall we not yield ſubmiſſion quietly, to a thing for which there may be ſo many reaſons; and thoſe not at all to our prejudice, but to our profit? Let me ſay a few words concerning the two laſt things mentioned; and ſhow you that if our Patience be exerciſed upon thoſe accounts, it will prove very beneficial to our Souls.
I cannot ſay (as ſome have done) that we ought not to deſire goodneſs for our own good, but meerly becauſe it is pleaſing to God. No; this ſeems to me a very abſurd doctrine, and utterly impoſſible, that we ſhould ſeparate theſe two, Piety, and our own good. We cannot ſo much as deſire to be good, but we ſhall feel a ſatisfaction in it. For the very Name of good carries a reſpect in it, to ſomething in us to which it is agreeable and convenient. We do not mean when we bid you love God for himſelf, that you ſhould not therein love your ſelf, and ſeek your own contentment; for you cannot chuſe but be pleaſed in the love of God and vertue. But this I may affirm with ſafety; that there may be ſometimes too much of ſelf-love in our vehement deſires after the extraordinary pleaſures and joyes of piety: and that if we could be content, after we uſed due diligence, with our drineſs and barrenneſs of ſpirit, with our dulneſs and want of vigour, nay, with our frailties and faults too, meerly out of ſubmiſſion to God, and becauſe he thinks not fit to give us the pleaſure of being wholly without them; it would be highly acceptable to him, and no leſs advantageous to us. If in all things, I mean, we could reſt ſatisfied that God's will is done, though ours be denyed, if we could forbear to proſecute our own will even in thoſe matters, and deſire him to give us as much Life, and Spirit, and chearfulneſs and joy as he pleaſes; we ſhould be ſo far from offending him, that he would take it for a very grateful piece of ſervice to him.
This is not to teach any remiſneſs in your deſires and endeavours; but it ſuppoſes you do your beſt, and only adviſes you, that if notwithſtanding you cannot be as you would, you do not let your ſpirit fall into any impatience or fretfulneſs. For this is to prefer God's pleaſure above your own. It is a ſubjection of your will to his, in thoſe points wherein you are moſt deſirous to have it gratified. It is an unuſual inſtance of reſignation to him; which declares there is nothing ſo dear to you, but you are willing to quit it, ſo you may but do well, and be accepted with Him.
And here remember theſe two things: Firſt, that our ſolid comfort doth not depend upon doing every thing ſo readily, eaſily and delightfully as we would; but in accompliſhing Gods will, however it be done. And 2dly, That Humility, Patience and Submiſſion to God in the midſt of our infirmities, may be more acceptable to him than that complacence and joy which we feel to ariſe meerly from the ſenſe that we have of our strength and abilities. To be pleaſed in our ſucceſſes is not ſo pleaſing to God, as to be patient in our Conteſts. Nay, to rejoyce and triumph in our Victories, is nothing ſo good, as to be conſtant and reſolved, notwithſtanding that we are a little overcome. In thoſe ſpiritual conſolations which we thirſt after, we do not always receive ſo much profit as we do pleaſure▪ but in the want of them, if our wills be thereby more perfectly ſubdued to his, we receive both a very great benefit, and in the iſſue, no ſmall pleaſure.
You have ſeen perhaps, or you may imagine, the ſmoak of a Potters Furnace; how thick and black it is, as if it would make a Picture of Hell it ſelf. Who would think that the Veſſels of Clay, which are baked there, would not be burnt to aſhes by the fury of the Fire; or that at leſt they would come out as black as ſoote, by the foulneſs of the ſmoak? And yet when the Fire is put out, and the Veſſels unfurnaced, you ſee there is no ſuch thing: But that which was ſoft and yielding, is become hard and ſtrong; and its complexion likewiſe is ſo much mended, that a Prince need not diſdain the uſe of ſome of theſe Cups. Juſt thus it is with a diſtreſſed Soul, when it is covered with a Cloud, and wrapt in darkneſs; and burns thereby in a great and ſore diſpleaſure againſt it ſelf. It is apt to think, that this ſure is the Gate of Hell; that it is forſaken of God; and ſhall either periſh in this condition, or not eſcape out of it, without much loſs. But after a while, when the work of God is done, and the vapours are vaniſhed and diſappear, it findes it ſelf to be grown much in firmneſs, purity and ſplendor; and that it is made a Veſſel of honour fit for the Maſters uſe. There is no loſs of any thing, but of its ſelf-will. Nothing is conſumed but its ſoftneſs and delicacy; which made it loth to be toucht.
The like may be ſaid of many little paſſions and diſorderly deſires, to which our frail Natures are ſubject. If we can free our ſelves from one inordinate paſſion, which is a too vehement deſire to be quite rid of them; it might bring us little leſs peace, than if we were: and our profiting would no leſs appear, in continuing ſtill to do our duty, of which we complain that they are ſo great an hinderance. However, there is no reaſon for ſuch concluſions as thoſe, which good minds have been apt to make in a gloomy day; that if God loved them, he would not treat them after that manner. There is rather great reaſon, conſidering what hath been ſaid, to be not only patient, but thankful to him in ſuch a condition. For it is not inconſiſtent with his care and infinite kindneſs, to let us be obnoxious to thoſe changes, and thoſe weakneſſes too, which I have mentioned: but you ſee plainly it muſt be ſo; and therefore it is beſt to be well pleaſed with theſe Methods of our Heavenly Father, at leaſt contented that it ſhould be ſo.
And let me add this for a concluſion of this Diſcourſe; that God may ſuffer ſome Perſons to be thus overcaſt with darkneſs, and he may with-hold his gracious influences from them, for the ſins of their former life, before they were converted; which deſerved he ſhould never have afforded his grace unto them at all. What are we, ſhould ſuch Men ſay, that we ſhould expect to live always under the light of his countenance? Alas! one age of darkneſs is too good for us; and we have reaſon to thank him, if we be not eternally baniſhed from his ſight. Why ſhould ſuch poor things as we think to receive every day ſome extraordinary tokens of his Divine favour; when one good look from him, is enough to oblige us as long as we live? How much more reaſon have we to praiſe him, that all our days are not gloomy, that our Sun is not always eclipſed, or rather that our life is but one long Night; than to complain that a Cloud ſometimes paſſes over us, or a Miſt gathers about us? It is but fit that we ſhould be hereby taught what it is to ſin againſt God; and it is well for us that we were not ſent to learn it in outer darkneſs. We are not ill dealt withall, if we can learn at ſo cheap a rate the value of pardoning mercy: but ſhall have cauſe in Heaven to praiſe God, that we paid no dearer for it. Is this all the puniſhment that is due for our many faults? Doth he not uſe us very kindly, if we be not quite caſt out of his Preſence? O what a joy will it be to us, to find that we are in his favour in the other World? And we may be content, if he pleaſe, to ſtay for our joy till that time; when we ſhall certainly know, whether we have reaſon to rejoyce or no.
But I ſhall ſay no more of this to you, who have ſpent your time ſo innocently and vertuouſly, that there is reaſon you ſhould reap the fruit of it now in perpetual joy and ſatisfaction of heart, from the conſideration of God's goodneſs to you. And I had wholly omitted this laſt Advice, did not I know the weakneſs of humane Nature to be ſo great, that the beſt diſpoſed Souls may ſometimes feel ſuch alterations in them, as may make it very neceſſary. In which caſe, if ever you ſhould find your ſelf, doubt not to approach to God, and ſay to him, with all humility of ſpirit, ſome ſuch words as theſe.
A PRAYER.
I Acknowledg, O great God, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, that I am not worthy of the leaſt glimpſe of thy divine favour. It is ſufficient that I live and behold the light of the Sun, and am not baniſhed into outer darkneſs. And it is more than enough, for ſo wretched a thing as I am, that thou art pleaſed, at any time of my life, to beſtow upon me the ſmalleſt teſtimony of thy love. But that I live in hope to paſs through all theſe Clouds, and to behold my bleſſed Saviour in inconceivable ſplendor, and rejoyce with him for ever; O what a grace is it! How infinitely am I indebted to Thee, for ſuch riches of mercy! It ought to make me contented with any condition here; and exceeding thankful to Thee, that it is no worſe. Deal with me, O merciful God, even as thou pleaſeſt, ſo that I may but have this humble hope preſerved in my heart, of ſeeing and loving my Lord, not as now darkly and dully, but in the cleareſt light, and with the moſt ardent love, in Immortal Glory.
I ſubmit to thy Infinite Wiſdome under all that heavineſs and liſtleſneſs of ſpirit, wherewith I am oppreſſed; from which I know thy Infinite Power, if thou didst judg it moſt convenient, is able to deliver me. Thou art not unwilling neither, I know, to gratifie the deſires of pious hearts, who ſincerely long after a state of more perfect love to Thee, and would gladly with more active and unwearied ſpirits ſerve thee, and all mankind. But ſince thou art pleaſed to leave us to contend with many and great infirmities of our mortal Nature, thy will be done. I deſerved none of that power and strength from above, which I have received; O that I could ſay that I have alwayes imployed it, or been ſo thankful for it, as I ought! By thy grace I am what I am. And by its aſſiſtance I hope to perſevere in my duty, and in thy love; though thou denyeſt me all the ſatisfaction, which I am inclined to deſire. I am content to ſerve thee on any terms; yea deſirous to have my will ſubdued, in every thing, perfectly unto thine.
O that I may but feel my Soul growing more humble, more ſubmiſſive, more patient, more intirely reſigned to thy pleaſure; and I ſhall think my ſelf a great gainer, by all the loads and preſſures under which I groan. O that they may depreſs me more in my own thoughts; and make me more admire thy indulgent kindneſs which exerciſes no greater ſeverity upon me; and raiſe in me an higher eſteem of thoſe favours, which thou art pleaſed at any time to communicate to me; and make me place my ſatisfaction, in a conſtant and reſolute obedience to Thee (whatſoever diſcouragements I meet withall) and in the expectation of an happy tranſlation from this earthly state to an Heavenly, which thou haſt promiſed as the reward of faithful obedience.
Into thy hands, O Lord, I now commend my Spirit, as I muſt do when I leave this World. I truſt my ſelf with Thee; beſeeching thee to conduct me ſafe through all varieties and changes both bodily and ſpiritual, unto thy eternal reſt. And for that end, beſtow upon me ſuch an attentive and ſincerely diſcerning ſpirit, that I may never be cheated by the lazineſs of fleſhly Nature; nor call that my infirmity, which is my careleſneſs and negligence. Preſerve me from all affected Ignorance, from idleneſs, from raſhneſs, from ſelf-flattery and preſumption: as well as from all cauſleſs jealouſies of my ſelf, and too much ſadneſs and dejection of ſpirit. Help me to overgrow daily the unſteadineſs of my mind and thoughts, and that backwardneſs which is in my will and affections; together with all other imperfections and weakneſſes of this state. But as for all the luſts of the fleſh, the luſts of the eye, or the pride of life, O my God, I hope I ſhall be a perfect stranger to them, and far removed from them.
Help me in all conditions stedfaſtly to love the good which thou haſt commanded, and the good which thou haſt promiſed: And enable me as patiently to bear the evil which thou inflicteſt, and as vehemently to hate the evil which thou forbideſt, and to be much afraid of the evil which thou threatneſt, and to be well pleaſed with every thing that thou ſendeſt. If thou makeſt me rich, keep me from being wanton, or proud, or in love with this World, or loth to leave it: Help me diſcreetly to taſte of theſe good things, but to live upon thoſe which are Heavenly. And if thou art pleaſed to reduce me into want, keep me from all repining thoughts, from diſtruſt of Thee, and from too great carefulneſs and ſolicitude of mind: and help me then to remember that I have still the ſame moſt loving Father, who fed me in the days of my fulneſs and proſperity. While I have my health, good Lord, make me ſerviceable; that if I be ſick, I may not be diſconſolate, nor uneaſie to my ſelf and others. In all my employments diſpoſe me to be chearful, in all my enjoyments thankful, and on all occaſions very watchful, that I fall not into temptation: And be thou my Guide, my Helper, my Defender, my Comforter, and indulgent Father alſo, that if I do fall, I may not utterly be caſt down; but live in hope to recover more ſtrength, and to Glorifie Thee by bringing forth much and better Fruit, through Chriſt Jeſus our bleſſed Saviour. By whom I believe in Thee who haſt raiſed Him from the Dead, and given Him Glory, 1 Pet. 1.21.that our Faith and Hope might be in Thee our GOD.
Amen.