Practical Discourses Volume 1, Discourse 1
1 TIMOTHY IV. 6.
Bodily exercise profiteth little; but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.
THE great Design of Christianity being to promote our future Happiness, and qualify us for it; Things are more or less valuable in its esteem, as they more or less conduce to this great and excellent End. And hence the Apostle tells us, that of all the Virtues Christianity obliges us to, Charity is the greatest, 1 Cor. xiii. 13. that is, a sincere Love of God, and an universal good Will to Men; and the greatest it is upon this account, because of all Virtues it is most congenial to the Heavenly State, that being a State of endless Love and pure Friendship; and all other Virtues are valued more or less proportionably, as they partake of this Virtue of Charity. To give Worth to our Faith, it is necessary it should work by Love, Galat. v. 6. To make our Knowledge acceptable, it is necessary it should run into Love, 1 Cor. viii. 2, 3. yea without Charity the Gift of Miracles, Almsgiving, and Martyrdom it self are Things of no value in the accounts of Christianity, 1 Cor. xiii. 1, 2, 3. Nay so much is this great Virtue designed by the Christian Religion, that the Apostle tells us that the end of the Commandment is Charity, 1 Tim. l. 5. that is, all the Duties which the Commandment enjoyns are designed only as Means to advance and perfect our Love to God and Men: And all Means, you know, are more or less excellent proportionably, as they conduce to the Ends they are designed for. Wherefore since our future Happiness is the ultimate End of Christianity, and universal Love our most necessary Qualification for it, it necessarily follows that the Goodness of all Religious Means consists in their Aptitude to abstract and purify our Affections; to exalt and sublimate our Love, and to propagate in us that godlike and heavenly Temper, which is so necessary to qualify us for the Enjoyment of God and Heaven. But alas! how ordinary is it for Men to mistake their Means for their Ends, and to value themselves upon doing those Things, which if they be not directed to a farther End, are altogether insignificant; accounting those Things to be absolutely good, which are but relatively so, and which, unless they conduce to that which is good, are perfectly indifferent. Of which we have too many sad Instances among our selves; for how many are there, who though they have nothing else to prize themselves for, but only of their keeping of Fasts and looking sourly on a Sunday, their hearing so many Sermons, and numbering so many Prayers; are yet bloated with as high Conceits of their own Sanctity and Godliness, as if they had commenced Saints, and were arrived to the highest degrees of Perfection: And tho Pride and Malice, Covetousness and Ambition, are the only Graces they are eminent in, yet shall you see these empty wretched Things pearched upon the Pinacle of Self-Conceit, and from thence looking down upon poor moral Mortals as if they were Things of an inferior Species, not worthy to be reckoned in the same Class of Beings with themselves. Such flaunting Hypocrites, it seems, there have always been, and in these later Times it is foretold they should abound; for so the Apostle tells us 1 Tim. iv. 1. that the Spirit speaketh expresly, that in the later Ages there should arise a sort of People who departing from the Faith, should give heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils; who should forbid marriage, and command Abstinence from Meats, vers. 3. that is, as I suppose, should place all their Religion in outward and bodily Severities, which at best are only Means and Instruments of Religion; and that in these they should pride themselves, as if they were the only Saints of the Age: whereas, in truth, they would prove the rankest Hypocrites that ever appeared in a religious Vizard. And of these he exhorts Timothy carefully to forewarn his Flock, and for his own part to reject their profane and ridiculous Fables; and rather to exercise himself in true substantial Godliness, than in such outward bodily Rigors and Severities; for which he subjoyns this general Reason, for bodily exercise profiteth little, that is, mere outward bodily Exercise in Religion abstracted from inward Piety and Godliness, is of very little avail in a Religious Account: For the bodily Exercise here spoken of, it seems, was such as had some little Profit attending it, and consequently was such as had some general Tendency to Good, and was improveable to some advantage, had it been wisely managed and directed. For foreign, here translated little, is not so to be understood, as if it signified nothing; because it is here opposed to something that is greater, viz. to foreign: Bodily Exercise profiteth little, but Godliness is profitable for all things; and therefore this bodily Exercise must profit something, though less than Godliness, which is profitable for all things: As when Plato says foreign, Socrates must be a little attended, but Truth a great deal more. And if it be such an Exercise as doth profit a little, then it must be such as is Religious, and is of some small account in Religion. In the Prosecution of this Subject therefore I shall do these two things:
I. Shew you what this outward or bodily Exercise in Religion is.
II. In what Cases it is that it profits little.
I. Wherein doth this bodily Exercise consist? I answer, it consists in these six things:
1. In an outward visible Profession of Religion.
2. In bodily Severities upon Religious Accounts.
3. In bodily Passions in Religion.
4. In bodily Worship.
5. In bodily Fluency and Volubility in Religious Exercises.
6. In a mere outward Form or Round of Religious Duties.
1. It consists in an outward visible Profession of Religion. That we should make a visible Profession of the true Religion, when it is sufficiently proposed to us, is an unquestionable Duty, and that for this Reason; because not to profess visibly what we believe to be the true Religion, is an open disowning of God, who is the immediate Object of all true Religion. For he that believes that this is the Will of God, and yet is either ashamed or afraid openly to avow and acknowledge it, declares that he is either ashamed of God, or that he fears Man more than God; both which are highly impious. Besides, by our visible owning of Religion, we propose it to others, who by our Example may be perswaded to embrace it as well as we; and it is our Duty not only to entertain the true Religion our selves, but so far as in us lies, to propagate it to others; that so diffusing our Light round about us, others may be directed to Heaven by it as well as our selves. This therefore is of some Account with God, that we visibly profess the true Religion; but if this be all we do, it will profit us but very little. For if we do not own Religion in our Actions, while we profess it in our Words, we contradict our selves; our Practice gives the Lye to our Creed, and our wicked Lives baffle our holy Profession: for while a Man acts contrary to the Rules of his Religion, he doth as effectually disown it, as if he should openly renounce his Baptism, and make a publick Recantation of Christianity. For as our Profession of Religion is performed by a visible signification of our Belief of it, and as this may be signified by our Actions as well as our Words; so in effect we do renounce Religion when we give any visible signification that we do not believe it; and this we do as well when we act like Infidels, as when by Words we declare our Infidelity. For by our Deeds we may signify our Minds as well as by our Words, and he that acts as if he did not believe, doth give a more convincing Argument of his Infidelity, than all his Words or Professions can be of the contrary; because it is rationally supposable that a Man will rather pretend to believe what he doth not, than that he will act contrary to his own Belief and Judgment; it being a greater degree of Violence to our selves to act contrary to what we do believe, than to pretend to believe what we do not. So that it is not all our Talk and verbal owning of Religion that will serve the end of a visible Profession, which is, so to own God as to induce others to own him as well as our selves; because he that denies God in his Actions will never be able to induce others to believe that he doth sincerely own him in his Words and Profassions. Wherefore unless we will live up to the Rules of our Religion, we were as good not to make any visible Profession of it; for our Profession will serve no good Ends of Religion; it may indeed disgrace it in the Opinion of those who measure its Goodness by the Lives of its Votaries; for either they will think that our Religion teaches us to live as we do, and that will make them abhor it; or else they will imagine that notwithstanding our Profession we do not believe it, and that will make them suspect it to be a Cheat and Imposture. So that for any Good Christianity is like to reap from wicked Christians professing it, it were highly desirable that they would renounce their Baptism, and openly declare themselves Atheists or Infidels; because by their Actions they blaspheme the Religion they profess, and by assuming to themselves the holy Name of Christians they do but more openly profane it.
2. Another sort of bodily Exercise that is of some, though but little Account in Religion; is our voluntary undergoing of bodily Rigours or Severities upon the score of Religion. There is doubtless a very wise use to be made of bodily Severities in Religion, provided they be but used with that Prudence and Caution as they ought to be; for they are excellent Remedies against many of our inordinate fleshly Inclinations, to came our extravagant Appetites, and to render them more tractable to the Commands of Reason and Religion: besides, that in the general they are of singular Use to wean our Souls from the Pleasures of the Body, which do often corrupt the palate of the Mind, and render it incapable of relishing divine Enjoyments. For if we indulge to our Appetites all those lawful Pleasures which they crave, our Souls will be apt to contract too great a Familiarity with the Flesh, and to be so taken up with the Delights and Satisfactions of it, as to neglect those diviner Pleasures for which they were created, and which are more natural and congenial to them; and considering that in our future State we must live without these Bodies, and take leave of all the Pleasures of them, it is very requisite that we should now before-hand wean and abstract our selves from the Enjoyments of corporeal Sense, that so when we come to part with them we may know how to be happy without them, and be fit to live the Lives of naked Spirits. And therefore we find that there has scarce been any Religion whatsoever pretending to qualify Men for another Life, but hath imposed Fasting and Abstinence, and other bodily Severities, as proper Means to lustrate and purify the Mind, and to prepare it for immediate Converses with God and separated Spirits; but then the Consequence was, that the over-strict Imposition of these Instrumentals of Religion occasioned a world of Superstition; for being so strictly imposed, they obtained so far in the Opinion of the World, as to be reckoned among the Essentials of Religion, and counted absolutely good, and in their own Nature pleasing and grateful unto God; which possibly by degrees introduced those foreign, horrid and bloody Mysteries into the Heathen Religion. For Mankind being once possessed with such an Opinion of God, as to think he was pleased and delighted to see his poor Creatures afflict and punish themselves; it was easie from thence to infer that he would be much more pleased to see them butcher themselves, and sprinkle his Altars with their own Blood. And as this over-weening Opinion did probably introduce humane Sacrifices into the Heathen Religion; so it is certain that it hath introduced sundry false Doctrines into the Romish; as particularly, that Fasting, and Whipping our selves, and going on Pilgrimages, are meritorious Things; that by them we expiate our Sins, and make Satisfaction to the Justice of God: as if the Guilt that binds us over to eternal Perdition were to be expiated by a sound Whipping, or a short Pilgrimage were a proportionable Commutation for the eternal Penance of Hell Fire. But these are the vain Imaginations of Men, who would faign impose Laws upon God, and prescribe to him the Measures of Punishment; who would do as wickedly as they please, and suffer what they please for so doing. But let us not deceive our selves, if we will choose to sin, it is reasonable that that God whom we offend by our Sin should choose and appoint our Punishment. It is by no means fit that Criminals should be their own Iudges; for if they were, they would have very little Reason to be afraid of sinning; because they would be obliged to suffer no more for it than what they pleased themselves: but the Right of punishing is in the offended Party; and therefore if we will offend God by violating his Laws, we have no right to choose our own Penance, but must, whether we will or no, submit to what He thinks fit to inflict upon us; and what that is he hath told us before-hand, even everlasting Expulsion from his Presence into the Society and Portion of Devils, and damned Spirits. So that for us to expect to attone and satisfy God by little voluntary Penances of our own, is just as unreasonable as if a Murderer should cut off his little Finger, and thereupon expect to be excused from the Penalty of the Law.
And as these bodily Severities are no Expiations of our Sins, so neither are they in their own Nature pleasing and grateful unto God: for he is a good God, and an universal Lover of all his Creation; and consequently can be no farther pleased with the Sufferings and Afflictions of any of his Creatures, than as they are necessary either to do them good, or to make them exemplary to others, or to vindicate the Honour of his own violated Laws; neither of which Ends are served by voluntary Penances and Severities as such, if they be not subordinated to the Ends of Virtue and Religion. For what can Fasting signify, if it be not designed to famish our Lusts? Can our hungry Bowels be a delightful Spectacle to that God who feeds the young Ravens, and takes so much care to provide for all his Creation? What Virtue is there in the Chastning of our Bodies, if it be not intended to humble and mortify our Souls? Do we think that that God, who is so zealous of our Welfare, can be recreated with our Miseries, or take pleasure in our tragical Looks, and bloody Shoulders? 'Tis true, so far as these things are Instruments of Good to us, they are pleasing unto God, even as all other Instruments of Religion; but it is not the suffering of our Bodies he is pleased with, but the good which it doth our Souls: but if they do our Souls no good, if they do not purify our Affections, and wean us from fleshly Desires, and make us more fit for the heavenly State, they are as insignificant in the Account of God, as the paring of our Nails, or the clipping of our Hair.
3. Another sort of these bodily Exercises that are of some, though but little account in Religion, is bodily Passions in Religion. There is, I confess, an excellent Use to be made of our bodily Passions in the Exercise of our Religion, provided we do not place our Religion in them; for if we do, they will betray us into the grossest Cheats and Impostures. For in the general we find, that our Passions do wing our intellectual Faculties, and render them more intense and expedite in their Operations. For whilst the Soul and Body are united to one another, there is a mutual Reflowing and Communication of Passions between them, insomuch that whensoever the Soul is any ways affected with any Object, there immediately follows a suitable Perturbation or Passion in the Body; and then this Passion of the Body, as it is grateful or ingrateful to it, doth more vigorously affect the Soul with Love or Aversation; and then the Soul being thus reaffected and incited by the bodily Passion, will more vehemently pursue or shun the Object which caused its first Motion or Affection. When therefore our Souls and Bodies do thus sympathize with each other in the Exercises of Religion, we must necessarily perform them with greater Vigour and Intension.
But to make this more plain to you, I will briefly instance in those four great Passions of Religion, viz. Love, and Hatred, and Sorrow, and Ioy. As for that of Love; when the Soul is affected with God, or Virtue, or any other amiable Objects of Religion; immediately there follows a sweet and grateful Passion in the Body. For the Heart being dilated towards the beloved Object, puts the Blood and Spirits into a free and placid Motion, which diffuses a certain agreeable Heat into the Breast, and invigorates the Brain with a flood of active Spirits; and then the Soul being sensible of this grateful Emotion in the Body, is thereby more vigorously incited to pursue those amiable Objects wherewith she was first affected. And so for Hatred; when the Soul is practically convinced by the Arguments of Religion of the Odiousness of any Evil it forbids, the Enmity and Hatred she hath towards it causes an anxious Contraction of the Heart, and Compression of the Animal Spirits, which produces a Chilness in the Breast, a retarding of the Blood, and an unequal motion of the Pulse; and then the Soul sympathizing with the Body, cannot but be sensible of this ungrateful Passion it is put into, which must needs add to her Hatred of those odious Objects which were the Cause of it, and cause her more vehemently to shun and avoid them. So again when the Soul is moved to Sorrow and Repentance for any past Sins and Miscarriages, the sad Regrets she suffers within her self produce a very doleful Passion in the Body; such as pinches the Heart, congeals the Blood, and causes an ungrateful Languor of the Spirits; and then by compassionating her grieved Consort, she is thereby excited to a higher degree of Displeasure against those Sins that caused its Grief and Disturbance. Lastly, when the Soul is joyed and delighted with any religious Object, or Exercise; by that sweet Complacency she enjoys within her self, there is produced a most pleasant Emotion in the Body, the Animal Spirits flowing to the Heart in an equal and placid Stream; where being arrived through its dilated Orifices, they sooth and tickle it into a most sensible Pleasure; and then the Soul being affected with the Body's Pleasure, doth from thence derive an additional Joy, which doth more vigorously encourage her to pursue those Objects, and continue those Exercises from whence her Original Joy proceeded.
So that, you see, that by reason of that perpetual Intercourse there is between our Souls and our Bodies, there is an excellent Use even of our sensitive Passions in Religion. And it cannot be denied but that a gentle Temper of Body, whose Passions are soft, and easie, and ductile, and apt to be commoved with the Soul, may be of great advantage in our Religious Exercises; because whensoever it is religiously affected, its Passions will be apt to intend and quicken the Affections of the Soul, and to render them more vigorous and active; but farther than this, they are of no account at all in Religion. For as there are many Men who are sincerely good, that yet cannot raise their sensitive Passions in their religious Exercises; that are heartily sorry for their Sins, and yet cannot weep for them; that do entirely love God and delight in his Service, and yet cannot put their Blood and Spirits into the enravishing Emotions of sensitive Love and Joy: so on the other hand, there are many gross Hypocrites that have not one dram of true Piety in them, who yet in their Religious Exercises can put themselves into wondrous Transports of bodily Passion; that can pour out their Confessions in Floods of Tears, and cause their Hearts to dilate into Raptures of sensitive Love, and their Spirits to tickle them into Ecstasies of Joy; which is purely to be resolved into the different Tempers of Mens Bodies, some Tempers being naturally so calm and sedate, as that they are scarce capable of being disturbed into a Passion; others again so soft and tender and impressible, that the most frivolous Fancy is able to raise a Commotion in them. And hence we see that some People can weep most heartily at the Misfortunes of Lovers in Plays and Romances, and as much rejoyce at their good Successes, though they know that both are Fictions and mere Idea's of Fancy; whereas others can scarce shed a Tear or raise a sensitive Joy at the real Calamities or Prosperities of a Friend; whom yet they love a great deal more than these Men can possibly do their feigned and Romantick Heroes. And yet alas how very often do Men place the whole of their Religion in these mechanical Motions of their Blood and Spirits; that think they are exceeding good, if they can but chafe themselves into a devout Passion; and that it is an infallible Sign of Godliness that their Blood and Spirits are easily moved by religious Idea's, and apt to be elevated or dejected according as sad or joyous Arguments are pathetically represented to their Fancies: and though they do not understand the Argument, or which is all one to them, though that which is delivered for Argument is mere Gibberish, and insignificant Canting, that hath nothing of Argument or Reality in it, only some empty Fiction is conveyed to their Fancies by a musical Voice in fanciful Expressions; yet because they are affected by it, and it raises a sensible Perturbation in their Blood and Spirits, they presently conclude it to be an Income of God, and an infallible Token of his special Love and Favour to them; as if it were a Sign of Godliness, and a Mark of God's Favourites to be affected with Nonsense, feathered with soft and delicate Phrases, and pointed with pathetick Accents.
Thus there are some Men who believe themselves to be converted, meerly because they have run through all the Stages of Passion, in that new Road of Artificial Conversion which some modern Authors have found out; for according as the Work of Conversion hath been described by some modern Authors, it is wholly placed in so many different Scenes of Passion. For first a Man must pass under the Discipline of the Law, and the Spirit of Bondage; that is, he must be frightned into a Sense of his lost and undone Condition, and in this Sense he must grieve bitterly for his Sins as the Causes of his Ruin and Perdition; and this is that which they call Conviction and Compunction. From hence he must proceed into the Evangelical State, and pass into the Spirit of Adoption, the Entrance of which is Contrition or Humiliation; which consists in an ingenuous Sorrow for Sin, proceeding from a passionate Sense of God's Love and Goodness; and then having acted over all these mournful Passions, he embraces and lays hold upon Christ, which is the concluding Scene, and is altogether made up of Ioy and Exultation, and so the Work of Conversion is finish'd. Now though I do not at all deny, but to the Conversion of an habitual Sinner it is indispensably necessary that he should be convinc'd of his Danger, and deeply affected with Sorrow and Remorse for his Folly and Wickedness; (and therefore would not be so understood, as if I intended to discountenance these holy Passions, which are such necessary Introductions to a sincere Conversion:) yet neither do I doubt, but by the help of a melancholy Fancy attended with soft and easie Passions, a Man may perform all these Parts of Conversion, and yet be never the better for it; for many times these Passions are only the necessary effects of a diseased Fancy, and are altogether as mechanical as the beating of our Pulse, or the Circulation of our Blood. And hence we see that this kind of Conversion, which wholly consists of bodily Passions, doth commonly both begin and end with some languishing Distemper of the Body, in which the Fancy is over-clouded, and the Motion of the Blood and Spirits retarded by the Prevalence of black and melancholy Humours; which being once evacuated, the Man's Body returns again to its former Temper, and upon this he becomes the same Man again that he was before his pretended Conversion. And accordingly it is observed by those very Persons who place the whole Work of Conversion in these Mechanical Passions, that generally after the Pangs of Regeneration are over, their Converts grow cold, and careless, and remiss in Religion; and so like to what they were in the State of Nature, that you would hardly believe they had ever been converted; which is a plain Evidence that this sort of Conversion doth not reach the Soul, that it doth not alter our practical Judgment of things, nor rationally determine our Wills to new Choices and Resolutions; and consequently that it is nothing but a mere Train of sensitive Passions mechanically excited by the Fancy. And hence you may observe in the Modern Stories of our Religious Melancholians, that they commonly pass out of one Passion into another without any manner of Reasoning and Discourse; now they are in the Depths of Grief and Despair, by and by upon the Pinacle of Ioy and Assurance; and yet they are the same Men, neither better nor worse, when they do despair, as when they are assured; and consequently have no more Reason to be assured now, than they had when they were encompassed with all the Horrors of Desperation. For the only Reason any Man hath to be assured of God's Love, is his Likeness and Conformity to Him; which is that alone that endears us unto God, and entitles us to the Promise of his Favour. And yet though these Men do not pretend to be better, or more Godlike now they are assured, than they were when they despaired; yet their Hearts are overwhelmed with Floods of sensitive Joy, and they are strangely comforted they know not how nor wherefore: And though while they were in Despair, they thought of those Promises and Motives of Comfort that now ravish and transport them, and had every whit as much Reason to lay claim to them too; yet then they lay like Cakes of Ice at their Hearts without affording them the least Gleam of Warmth and Comfort; which is a plain evidence that both their Ioys and Sorrows are the products of bodily Temper, and not of Reason and Iudgment; because they pass out of one into the other without any intervenient Discourse, and are agitated into contrary Passions whilst they are under the same Rational Motives; are dejected this moment, and comforted the next, which argues, that their Reason hath no hand in their Passions; for if it had, they could never be so contrarily affected. Nor can it be supposed, that such irrational Passions are raised in them by the Divine Spirit; because He ordinarily works upon Men in an humane and rational way, beginning with their Understandings, and so perswading their Wills, and exciting their Passions by rational Motives and Arguments: Those Passions therefore that are not so excited can be resolved into no other Principle but that of bodily Temper. And accordingly you may observe, that all this Train of Passions, wherein too many Men do place the whole of their Conversion, are necessarily connected and chained to one another; so that if you move but the first Link, all the rest will naturally follow; which is a plain Argument that they may be excited not only in a free and rational, but also in a necessary, or mechanical way. As for instance, Suppose these Men before their pretended Conversion to have a good Dose of Melancholy in their Tempers, this will naturally dispose them to terrible and mournful Conceits; and being thus disposed, their tender Fancies are easily impressed with dreadful Images of the Wrath of God, and their own undone Condition: And according as the Temper of their Bodies is more or less disposed to fear, so this frightful Passion continues longer or shorter upon 'em; if it continues longer, it will by the reiterated Impressions of those dreadful Objects that first raised it, by degrees be heightned into Horror and Desperation; and when it is so then the Man is under Conviction of his undone Condition, and under the Terrors of the Law, and the Spirit of Bondage; which, according to the new Method, is always the first step to Conversion. And when the first Fury of Despair is over, it naturally issues into a deep Melancholy, and there spends it self in woful Regrets, and self-condemning Reflections; and this is that which they call Attrition, or Compunction, which is the next Step to be taken in this methodical way of Conversion. And hence many People do continue many Years together in this languishing state, in all which time they believe themselves to be under the Lash of the Law, and the Discipline of the Spirit of Bondage; when, God knows, many times there is nothing in it but a mere melancholy Humour tinctured and heightned with dismal Notions of Religion. But then when the Melancholy begins to disperse, and to make way for the Spirits to flow into the Brain in a more brisk and active Torrent, and so to warm and refresh the drooping Fancy; they will by degrees scatter those horrid Images and dismal Fancies of Religion that rid the Imagination, and raised those tragical Passions; and so the Man will gradually emerge out of the Spirit of Bondage into a more comfortable and Evangelical Condition. For now his Fancy being something more lightsome, but still retaining some Reliques of its former Darkness, will be disposed for grateful as well as dismal Phantasms, and to be impressed by lovely and joyous, as well as terrible and mournful Objects. So that if now God or Christ, or any other Object of Religion, be but represented to the Man in such a Dress of Metaphors and glistering Allusions, as is apt to affect his carnalized Fancy, he will presently form such charming Conceits and pleasant Imaginations of them, as will necessarily put his Blood and Spirits into a most amorous Emotion towards them; so that now he shall seem inflamed with the Love of Christ, and fancy him twined in his Arms and Embraces: whereas in Reality the Thing he is so infinitely fond of, is nothing but an Idol of his own Fancy, a mere Baby-Christ, drest up by his own Imagination in all the Charms of sensual Beauty, and furnished with Smiles, and Kisses, and Caresses, and all the pretty Indearments of a doating Lover. And now the Man's Fancy being thus partly hung with fine Pictures of Christ, those Reliques of Melancholy Vapours that are yet remaining in it, will very much dispose it to sad and mournful Conceits; especially when this Idol of Christ, which he so much doats upon, shall be represented as weeping over his Sins, and grieved at the Unkindnesse he shews him. And now his Fancy being thus furnished with such a Mixture of amorous and mournful Imaginations, must necessarily beget in him a Mixture of Love and Grief and cause him to mourn for his Sins; because they make his Saviour grieve whom he seems to love so dearly: And this is Humiliation, which is the third Stage in this imaginary Road of Conversion. And now the Man having set up so gay an Image of Christ in his Fancy, and felt within himself such sensible Pangs of Love towards him, and Grief for the Affronts and Unkindnesses he hath offered him, his amorous Imagination will presently suggest to him, that doubtless so sweet a Saviour cannot but be conquered with all these passionate Indearments, and smitten with a reciprocal Love upon so many feeling Expressions of his Kindness towards him; and being possest with this Imagination, he will presently fancy his dear Image of Christ into all the Postures of a transported Lover; smiling upon him, weeping over him, and spreading out his Arms to embrace him; upon which there will follow such a sweet Effusion of his Spirits towards his enamoured Saviour, that he will fansy himself to be leaping into his Arms, and rolling in his Bosom, and resting, and leaning, and relying upon him. And now his Fancy having carried him to his Iourney's End, and lodged him in the Embraces of his Saviour, O the Joy and Ravishment! he feels his Heart pant through Excess of Delight, and is ready to break with its own Raptures. And thus you see how this whole Method of Conversion may be easily transacted by an active and melancholy Fancy.
And as it may be, so I doubt not but many times it is; for how many Men are there who strongly imagine themselves to have been converted, that yet are never the better for it, being still as averse unto God and true Goodness as ever they were before; nay and many times are so far from being better'd by their Conversion, that they are a great deal the worse for it; for instead of forsaking all Sin, which is that wherein true Conversion doth consist, they only shift their Vices, and many times in laying one Devil, they conjure up seven worse in the room of it. Perhaps before they fansied themselves to have been converted, they were openly lewd and profane; they would swear and be drunk, and wallow in Sensuality and Voluptuousness; but notwithstanding these beastly and damnable Crimes, they had some very amiable Qualities in them; they were courteous and affable, and kind and obliging; faithful in their Professions, and just and honest in their Dealings; but now alas! by passing through these dismal Stages of pretended Conversion, they have contracted such a mass of melancholy Humours as hath quite soured their sweet and lovely Tempers into Pride and Envy, Peevishness and Faction, Insolence and Censoriousness, and all the other Ingredients of a sullen and unsociable Nature. So that though now indeed they will not be openly lewd and profane, as they were before, yet, which is a great deal worse, they will be false and ill-natur'd, and griping and ungovernable; and, which is worst of all, they will be all this while under the Disguise of Religion, and the Patronage of a deceived Conscience: so that whereas their former Vices had only the Possession of their Wills, but not of their Consciences, these are seized of both, which renders their Condition the more dangerous. For heretofore Virtue and Religion had a strong Party within them, there being a Law in their Minds that warred against the Law in their Members; but now all is subdued to the Dominion of their Sins, and their Wills and Consciences, like Simeon and Levi, become Brethren in Iniquity. Whilst therefore Men place their Religion in such artificial Trains of Passion, they will be liable to all manner of Cheats and Impostures. For the Generality of Men being ignorant of the Power of Melancholy, and of the Frame and Structure of their own Bodies; if their Fancies are but tinctured with Religion, they will be apt to attribute every extraordinary Emotion they feel to the immediate Influence of the Spirit of God, and to account that to be Grace and Inspiration which is a mere necessary Effect of Matter and Motion; and being once possessed with this Conceit, they lye open to all the Follies of Enthusiasm; for now nothing will satisfy them but Heats of Fancy, and Transports of Passion; and whilst they should be attending to the sober Dictates of Scripture and right Reason, they will be looking for Incomes, and Impulses, and secret Manifestations; and consequently, will be apt to interpret every odd Whimsey for an inward Whisper from Heaven, and every brisk Emotion of their Spirits for an immediate Smile of God's Countenance; than which, I dare boldly say, there is nothing more mischievous to Religion, or contrary to the Life and Power of it. For Religion is a wise, a still, and silent thing, that consists not in Frisks of Fancy, and Whirlwinds of Passion; but in a divine Temper of Mind, and an universal Resignation of our Wills to God; and this not only in intermittent Fits of Passion, but in the midst of cool Thoughts and calm Deliberations. For true Religion is a State of a fixt and constant Nature, that doth not come and go, like the Colours of a blushing Face, but is the natural and true Complexion of the Soul. How religious soever therefore we may be in our passionate Heats and Transports, it it altogether insignificant, unless the standing Temper of our Minds be good, and our Religion be settled in our Natures. For though it cannot be denied but these our bodily Passions do profit something, as they are useful Instruments of Religion; yet I think it is very apparent from what hath been said, that he who places his Religion in them doth but deceive his own Soul.
4. Another sort of bodily Exercise that is of some, though but little Account in Religion, is Fluency and Volubility in Religious Exercises, or a Readiness of wording our Thoughts in proper and affecting Expressions; either in Prayer to God, or in speaking of God and Things divine: the proper Use of which is this, that in Prayer it is apt to exoite and kindle our devout and religious Affections. For besides that Scantiness of Words in Prayer doth divert the Mind by putting it to the Trouble of inventing new Expressions to clothe its Thoughts and Desires, which because of its Inability to attend many things at once, must needs interrupt its Zeal and Intention, and so make Breaks and Chasms in its Devotions; whereas when a Man expresses himself easily and fluently, so that his Words keep pace with his Desires and Affections, he will be able to keep his Thoughts more intent, and to fix himself upon God with all the united Vigour of his Mind, which not being disturbed with the Difficulty of expressing its Desires, will be the more at leisure to intend them, that so its Devotions may flow secundo flumine, in a more easie and undisturbed Current: besides which, I say, we all find by Experience, that proper and fluent Expressions are in their own Nature apt to warm and heighten our Affections, which nothing hath a greater Influence in than the Charms of pathetical Oratory. To be able therefore to word our Prayers in proper and ready Expressions, is of considerable Advantage to our Devotions; our Words being so apt to affect our Minds, and our Passions to keep time with the Musick of our own Language: and whilst we wear these Bodies about us, and our Souls are so clogged and depressed with fleshly Desires, we have need enough to use all Arts and Advantages of spiriting and enlivening our Devotions. But yet I confess, of all these bodily Exercises, this is the least considerable in Religion; because we may easily supply the Defect of natural Fluency by excellent Forms of Prayer, the Use of which is doubtless far more expedient than the best of our extempore Effusions. For he that uses a Form, hath nothing else to do in Prayer but only to recollect his own Thoughts, and fix them upon God; and to keep his Mind affected with a due Sense of the Divine Majesty, and his own Need of and Dependance upon him: whereas he that prays extempore, besides all this, is concerned to invent proper and apt Expressions, lest he should be impertinent or indecent in his Addresses unto God; unless he expects that the Spirit should immediately dictate to him the Words of his Prayer, which is to suppose himself a Person immediately inspired, and his Prayer of Divine Revelation; and consequently, of equal Authority with the Scriptures themselves. But the best Religious Use that can be made of Fluency and Volubility of Speech, is in speaking to others of God and Things Divine; here it is useful indeed to make a Man an Orator for Religion, and to enable him to recommend it more effectually to others. Thus far therefore this sort of bodily Exercise may be profitable, both as it may be made instrumental to raise our own Devotions, and to propagate true Piety unto others; but beyond this, I know no place at all that it hath in Religion: for there is no doubt but we may be very good Men without this Gift of Fluency, and very bad Men with it, there being no Necessity of Consequence from an honest Heart to a voluble Tongue. And certainly that which proceeds from no higher Principle than meer natural Enthusiasm, and consequently may be easily attained by Persons grosly hypocritical and debauched, ought not to be looked upon as a Mark of Godliness. And yet alas! how many Men are there that place all their Religion in their Tongues, and esteem it as a certain Sign of Grace that they are able to pray in fluent Expressions, and to talk of God in rapturous Flights of Fancy? For they being most commonly straitned in their Religious Exercises, and not able to vent themselves with any Freedom or Readiness; when they fall into an extraordinary Fit of Fluency and Enlargement, of which they can give no natural Account, they presently conclude it to be an immediate Gift of God's Spirit, and a special Token of his peculiar Favour to them. And accordingly, if you peruse the late Histories of the spiritual Experiences of our modern Converts, you will find that they contain little else but strange Relations of their rapturous Discourses, and wondrous Enlargements in Frayer; which because they have something extraordinary in them, are generally thought to be the immediate Effects of the Divine Spirit: whereas commonly they proceed meerly from the present Temper of the Body, and are as mechanical as any other Operations of Nature. For let a Man's Body be but put into a fervent Temper, his Spirits into quick but manageable Motions, this will naturally produce in him a more fine and exquisite Power of Perception, by causing the Images of Things to come faster into his Fancy, and to appear more distinct there; and then his Fancy being more pregnant with new Idea's and Images than it uses to be, his Expressions must necessarily be more fluent and easie. But then if when this natural Fervour of his Temper be intended with Vapours of heated Melancholy, his Fancy be but often impressed and rubbed upon with the most vehement and moving Objects of Religion, such as God and Christ, and Heaven and Hell; it must necessarily raise in him great and vehement Passions, and dictate to him pathetick and rapturous Expressions. And this hath been commonly experimented by the Devoto's of all Religions; for even among the devouter Turks and Heathens we may find as notorious Instances of those Incomes and Enlargements, as in any of our modern Histories of Christian Experiences. Thus the Heathen Poets; in all high Flushes of their Fancy, conceited themselves divinely inspired: Est Deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo. And that great Orator Aristides positively affirms himself to be inspired in his Orations; because sometimes he felt in himself an extraordinary Vein of Fluency, which was only excited by a brisker Agitation of his Spirits. Wherefore it is not at all to be wondered at if, when Men are employed in Religious Exercises, the same natural Enthusiasm, especially when it is exalted by Religious Melancholy, should so wing and inspire their Fancies. For there is no Man whatsoever, that is but religiously inclined, and of a soft and impressive Temper, but by familiarizing his Fancy to the great Objects of Religion, and setting them before his Mind in distinct and affecting Idea's, may easily chafe himself into such a Pathos as to be able to talk to, or of, God and Religion, in lofty and rapturous Strains of Divine Rhetorick; nor is it any Argument of such a Man's being inspired, that his Discourse doth so move and affect those that hear him; because all Language that is soft, fluent, and pathetical, is naturally apt to make deep Impressions on the Auditors. For even the Grecian Sophists, as Plutarch tells us, by their singing Tones, and honied Words, and effeminate Phrases and Accents, did very often transport their Auditors into a kind of Bacchical Enthusiasm: And no doubt but the Hearers of whom he speaks, who were wont to applaud their Orators at the End of their Declamations with a foreign, divinely, heavenly, preciously, unimitably spoken, found themselves as much moved, as many a Man doth at a Sermon; who yet thinks it is not the Art of the Preacher, but the Spirit of God speaking in and by him that warms and excites them. Wherefore as we would not deceive and undo our own Souls, let us have a great care that we do not place our Religion in any such Enthusiastick Fervors of Spirit, and Overflowings of Fancy; for though this may be a helpful Instrument to us in our Religious Exercises, yet it is not by this that we are to estimate the Goodness of them, but by those Laws and Circumstances which do moralize humane Actions, and render them reasonable, and holy, and good. For 'tis not in loud Noises or melting Expressions that the divine Spirit is discovered, but in a divine Nature and Godlike Disposition; and the Effects of true Religion are not to be look'd for in Words and Talk, but in Life and Action; and therefore St. Paul tells the Corinthians, some of whom, it seems, had too great an Opinion of his Way of Religious Rhetorication, that he would come among them and know, not the speech of them that were puffed up, but the power; for the Kingdom of God, saith he, consisteth not in word, but in power, 1 Cor. iv. 19, 20.
Fifthly, Another sort of bodily Exercise that is of some, though but little, Account in Religion, is outward and bodily Worship. There is no doubt but we ought, when we are worshipping God, to signify the profound sense that we have of his Majesty and Greatness by outward Adorations and an humble and lowly Demeanour. For though we may signify to God the Honour and Worship that we owe him by the internal Acts of our Mind, by our Love, and Fear, and Hope, and Admiration, because he sees our Hearts and discerns the most secret Motions of our Souls; yet since to him we owe the Members of our Bodies, as well as the Faculties of our Minds, it is very reasonable that we should worship him with both, that both our Bodies and Minds should offer the Tribute of Homage which they owe to the Fountain of their Beings; that so having each of them a share in the Bounties of God, they may be Co-partners too in the Returns of Gratitude to him. And though the internal Acts of our Minds do sufficiently signify unto God our Esteem and Veneration of Him, yet it is highly reasonable, especially in our publick Addresses to him, that we should signify it to Men also, that they may be excited by our Example to glorify God, and to acknowledge and adore the infinite Perfections of his Nature: and we have no other way to signify to Men our Veneration of God, but only by corporeal Actions, that is, by such Actions or Gestures of the Body as either by Nature or by Custom are significant of our inward Esteem and Adoration of him. And this, without doubt, is a Part of Natural Religion; forasmuch as there never was any People of any Religion whatsoever, but what have always expressed their Veneration of the Divinities whom they owned, by such external Reverences as were customary amongst them. And accordingly we are enjoined in Scripture to offer up unto God the Homage of our Bodies as well as of our Souls; to worship, and bow down, and kneel before the Lord our Maker, Psal. xcv. 6. and to glorifie him with our Souls and Bodies, which are his, 1 Cor. vi. 20. And when the Devil solicited our Saviour with the Promise of all the Kingdoms of the World to bow down and worship him, that is, to render him external Homage and Reverence, our Saviour rejects the Motion with an it is written, thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve, Matth. iv. 10. which Words must be understood of external as well as internal Worship, otherwise his Answer is no wise pertinent to the Devil's Proposals, which extended only to external Worship and Adoration.
And as bodily Worship is enjoined by express Precept, so it is warranted by the concurrent Examples of all holy Men; for in the Old Testament you have almost as many Examples of it, as there are Instances of devout and religious Persons: and so observant were the Jews of all external Reverence in their Religious Exercises, that to fall down and kneel before the Lord our Maker seems to have been Proverbial of their Prayers and Publick Worship. And lest any Man should imagine these bodily Reverences to have been Part of that Ceremonial Worship that was abolish'd by the Gospel, there are sufficient Examples of it recorded in the New Testament both to excite and warrant our Imitation. For even the blessed Iesus himself who thought it no Robbery to be equal with God, yet being in the Form of a Servant, he thought it no scorn to kneel and prostrate himself before him; for thus when he was in his last Agony, it is said, that he fell on his face, and prayed, Matth. xxxvi. 39. which in those Eastern Countries was a Signification of the profoundest Reverence: and afterwards when having awoke his Disciples, he returned to his Prayer again, St. Luke tells us that he fell upon his knees and prayed, Luke xxii. 41. Thus of St. Stephen, when he was breathing out his Soul in that hearty Prayer for his Enemies, it is said that he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this Sin to their Charge, Acts vii. 60. So also St. Peter, when he came to raise Tabitha from the dead, is said to kneel down and pray, Acts ix. 40. And St. Paul acquainting the Ephesians how earnestly he prayed for them, thus expresses himself; for this Cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Iesus Christ, Ephes. iii. 14. And when he was going to Rome, and had taken his last Farewel of the Brethren at Miletum, it is said that he kneeled down, and prayed with them, Acts xx. 36. And how loudly soever some of our new-fashioned Christians may explode external Reverence under a Pretence of worshipping God in a more spiritual Manner, it is certain that there never was any thing even externally more devout and solemn than the Religious Assemblies of the Primitive Christians; for generally at the Reading of their publick Liturgies, the whole Congregation kneeled down upon the bare Floor with their Heads uncovered, their Eyes lift up to Heaven, and their Hands stretched forth in fashion of a Cross; and then the whole Congregation being composed into a deep Silence, the Minister began the publick Service in a most serious and humble manner, not throwing about his Prayers at random with a clamorous, wild, and confused Voice, but pronouncing them with a most decorous Calmness and Modesty: the People in the mean time demeaning themselves so solemnly and uniformly, that you would have thought the whole Assembly to have been animated with one Soul, and that Soul to have been nothing else but a vital Sense of the adorable Majesty and supereminent Perfections of God. So heavenly wide was the Primitive Pattern from the Rudeness and Irreverence of our modern Devotions, that I doubt not should those blessed Martyrs and Confessors of our holy Religion arise from their Graves, and come into our publick Assemblies, they would suspect that we met together rather to be worshipp'd by God than to worship him; our usual Postures being much fitter for Iudges than for Supplicants, and such as rather bespeak us to be receiving Petitions from God, than offering up Prayers to him. For what Sign do we give that we come to worship the great Majesty above, when we rudely squat upon our Seats with our Hats half on, as if we thought it too great a Condescension to uncover our Heads, and kneel before the Lord our Maker; and that we made not bold enough with him, unless we treated him as our Fellow, and it were a piece of holy Familiarity to be saucy in our Language, and irreverent in our Addresses to him?
But by what hath been said I think it is apparent, that bodily Worship is of so much Account and Necessity in Religion, that to neglect it is a Piece of great Injustice to God, and an high Affront to his Majesty, whereunto we owe the lowliest Homage and Adoration. But after all it must be acknowledged, that unless our bodily Worship be attended with an inward lively Sense of God, with great and worthy Thoughts of him and suitable Affections towards him, it is all but a perfect Pageantry; which, tho' it makes a goodly Shew, hath nothing of Substance or Reality in it: Nay if by those external Reverences we render him, we do not express the inward Veneration of our Souls; while we pretend to worship him, we mock him to his Face; and by offering him a Shell which hath no Kernel in it, we only seek to put a Trick upon him, to make him believe we honour and adore him, when in reality we do but more demurely flout him, and with our Mock-Obeysances affront him with greater Ceremony: If therefore we do not bow our Hearts before him as well as our Knees, in our most solemn Addresses to him, we are but so many liveless Images of Prayer, that, like our Grandfathers Statues on their Tombs, have our Hands and Eyes lift up to Heaven, but no Soul to animate our Devotions. But God expects that those that worship Him should approach him with pure and humble Minds, with their Wills inspired with divine Affections, and their Souls touched with an over-awing Sense of his. Majesty; without which he accounts all our bodily Adorations to be nothing but demure Scorns, and complemental Mockeries; and therefore upon this very Account God denounced most fearful Judgments against Israel, because they drew near him with their mouths, and with their lips did honour him, when their hearts were removed far from him, Isa. xxix. 13.
Sixthly, and lastly, Another sort of bodily Exercise that is of some, tho' but little Account in Religion, is a mere outward Form or Round of Religious Duties, such as saying of our Prayers, hearing the Word of God, and receiving of Sacraments, and the like; which are all of them expresly enjoined by the Christian Religion, as the Means by which we are to purge our Minds from all Impurity and Wickedness, and to acquire those divine Habits of Piety and Vertue, which are necessary to qualify us for eternal Life: And without all doubt, such Means they are as, if rightly used, will by the Blessing of God, and their own natural Efficacy, exceedingly …onduce to those great and worthy Ends for which they were ordained. For what Means can be more conducive to our Reformation and Amendment, than constant and diligent Prayer? for, besides that hereby we move God to enable us to our Duty by his own Grace and Assistance; by these our solemn Addresses to him we take an effectual Course to abstract our Minds from carnal and sensitive Things; to excite and raise our Affections towards God, and inspire our Souls with an awful Sense of his Majesty; which are the most rational Antidotes we can take against the venomous Temptations of Sin. How necessary is it to make us throughly good, that we should seriously and diligently attend upon the Preaching and publick Ministries of God's Word; the great End of which is to state and describe the Bounds of Christian Duty, and to explain and enforce those mighty Motives which Christianity urges to oblige us to it? both which are indispensably necessary to our Reformation; because a Man cannot be good, unless he knows his Duty, and when he knows it, he will not be good, unless he be perswaded to it. What can be more conducive to our Growth and Progress in all Christian Grace and Virtue, than frequent Receiving of the Holy Sacrament? which, besides as it is a Channel and Conveyance of the Divine Grace and Assistance to all worthy Communicants, doth sensibly represent to us one of the mightiest Arguments to Obedience in all the Christian Religion, viz. the Death and Sacrifice of our blessed Redeemer. For here we see his bloody Tragedy acted before our Eyes, the breaking of his Body and the pouring out of his Blood for us being visibly represented to us; which dismal Spectacle (if we have any Remains of Ingenuity in us) cannot but affect us both with Love to Him who suffered so deeply for us, and with Horror against our Sins, which brought those Sufferings upon Him: and being thus affected, how can we forbear vowing Revenge upon our Sins, and perpetual Obedience to our most loving Redeemer, which is one great End of this sacred Festival? So that these outward Duties are not only necessary, as they are enjoined by our Religion, but also as they are effectual Means and Instruments of that internal Piety and Virtue, which our Religion doth principally require and design: and therefore doubtless it cannot but be a great Sin for any Christian to live in the ordinary Neglect of these instrumental Duties, because in so doing he doth not only affront the Authority of that holy Religion to which he hath vowed Submission and Obedience, but also rejects the Means of his own Recovery and Reformation, and so doth openly declare himself a reckless profligate Creature, one that neither is good, nor ever intends to be so. But yet after all it must be acknowledged, that he that only prays, and hears, and receives Sacraments, and places all his Religion in a perpetual Round of these outward Performances, hath nothing of the Life and Spirit of true Religion in him: For, as I have already observed to you, these Duties are intended only for Means and Instruments of that internal Purity of Mind, and those Divine and Godlike Dispositions of Soul, wherein the Life and Substance of Religion doth consist. Now you know it is not barely the using of Means that either is or doth Good, but the using them to some good End or Purpose: as for instance, Books are Means and Instruments of Learning; but it is not barely the using of Books, or turning over the Leaves of them, that will make Men wise or learned; but the using them so, as to understand the Contents of them, and acquaint our selves with the Things and Notions contained in them. Thus Prayer, and Hearing the Word of God, and Receiving of Sacraments, are doubtless excellent Means to make Men good and virtuous; but barely to use them, without any farther Intention, is to do a thing that signifies nothing, that neither is good in it self, nor will do any good to us: If we would use them to any Purpose, we must use them to the End, they are designed for, or else we had as good not use them at all. For we may as soon become good Scholars barely by turning over the Leaves of learned Books, as we shall good Christians barely by praying, and hearing, and receiving. If we do not pray to the End we may be more humble and heavenly-minded; if we do not hear, and receive Sacraments to the End we may be more just and charitable and meek and temperate; we take a great deal of Pains to no purpose. For tho' a Hammer and a File are excellent Tools to make a Watch, or a Clock, or any such curious Machin; yet doubtless you would account that Man extremely impertinent that should reckon himself a skilful Mechanick meerly because he knocks and files with them. And by the same Rule, tho' Prayers and Sacraments are excellent Instruments of Christian Piety and Virtue, yet it is a ridiculous Vanity for a Man to esteem himself a good Christian, meerly because he prays and communicates; because as the Art of the Mechanick consists not barely in using his Tools, but in using them so, as to perfect and accomplish his Work with them; so the Virtue of a Christian consists not barely in Praying, Hearing, and Receiving, but in using these Duties with that Religious Art and Skill, as is necessary to render them effectually subservient to the Ends of Piety and Virtue; and unless we use them to these Ends, we were as good not use them at all for any Benefit we are likely to reap from them. For what doth it signify for a Man to confess his Sins to God, if he only go round in a Circle of confessing and sinning, and sinning and confessing again? Is it any Pleasure to the Almighty, do we think, to hear us read over, with tragical Looks and woful Tones, the odious Catalogue of our uncancelled Guilts? is he so fond of the Affronts and Injuries we do him, as to take delight in hearing them recounted? No, doubtless, it is impossible. 'Tis true, he hath commanded us to confess our Sins to him; but why hath he done so? why, that our Confession might be instrumental to our Reformation; that it might affect us with Shame and Sorrow for our Sins, and Horror and Indignation against them; and if this be not the Effect of it, we do but blazon our Shame, when we confess our Sins, and prefer a Bill of Indictment against our selves. To what purpose do we daily offer up our Prayers unto God, if we do not endeavour by our Lives to please him? Can we imagine him so easie a Soveraign as to be soothed and flattered with the humble Petitions and Intreaties of open and avowed Rebels? Certainly if we do, we are infinitely mistaken: he bids us pray to him indeed, but why? why, that by our constant Addresses to him we might be always affected with so deep a Sense of his Soveraignty over us and our own Dependance upon him, as might keep us continually in Awe of Him; and if this be not the Effect of our Prayers, we only talk to the Air, and spend our Breath to no purpose. To what End do we praise God, and make Rhetorical Acknowledgments of his Glory and Goodness, if we do not imitate him in those Perfections for which we admire and laud him? Do we think so wise, so great a Being can ever be pleased and tickled to hear himself extolled and commended by a little of that fading Breath which himself gave being to? alas! no; he needs not our poor Praises to emblazon and magnify him, being infinitely glorious in his own Perfections, and a sufficient Stage and Theatre to Himself. 'Tis true he bids us praise him, but why? why, that he might provoke us to imitate what we do commend, and to transcribe into our own selves those adorable Perfections which we laud and admire in Him; and if this be not the Effect of our praising him, all the Good we say of him is nothing but Flattery and Complement. To what purpose do we come to Church to hear Sermons and pious Exhortations, if we do not live them too? Do we think to please God by meeting together to gratify our Ears or Curiosity with some new Notions, or quaint Piece of Oratory? If we do, we are much mistaken. He hath commanded us indeed, diligently to attend the publick Preaching and Ministers of Religion; and why hath he done so, but only that we might learn his Will, and be instructed in the Motives to Obedience? And if this be not the Effect of our Hearing, we had as good spend our time in hearing the whistling of the Wind, or the roaring of the Sea. In a word, to what End do we receive the holy Sacrament, if we do not improve in Virtue by it? Do you think to please an All-wise God by eating a little Bread, and drinking a little Wine, in a devout and humble Posture? Is it likely that so wise a Being should be taken with such an insignificant Trifle? 'Tis true, He hath instituted this holy Solemnity for a perpetual Memory of our Saviour's Passion; but is this all do you think? Has he commanded us to meet, and eat and drink together, only to remember that a great while ago the blessed Iesus was crucified at Ierusalem? no, doubtless; that which he ultimately designed by this solemn Memorial was to inflame our Love, to confirm our Faith, and strengthen our Resolutions of Obedience; and if this be not the Effect of it, our receiving the Sacrament is of no more Account in Religion, than if we should eat and drink only to satisfy our Hunger and Thirst. This I have the longer insisted upon, because it is so ordinary for Men to place all their Religion in these instrumental Duties, and to believe themselves highly in favour with God, meerly because they pray very often, and hear a great many Sermons, and are constant Communicants at the Lord's Table; when God knows all this is only the Religion of the Means, and is good only as it tends farther to produce in us a divine Temper of Mind, and to make us sober, and righteous, and godly in this present World; which if it doth not effect, it doth nothing at all, but is altogether vain and insignificant. Wherefore as you would not deceive and ruin your own Souls, beware of mistaking the Means of Godliness for Godliness it self, and of taking up your Rest there, where you should only bait, in order to a farther Progress; lest falling short of your Duty, you fall short of the Reward of it, and in the End receive your Portion with Hypocrites in the Lake that burns with Fire and Brimstone.
2. Having shewed what that bodily Exercise is which profits something in Religion, tho', compared with Godliness it self, but very little; I now proceed to the second thing proposed, which was to shew you in what Respects it is that this bodily Exercise doth profit but little. In general it profits but little in respect of those great and noble Ends which Religion doth most principally aim at: for there are four great Advantages which Religion doth principally design and intend us:
1. To reconcile us unto God;
2. To perfect our Natures;
3. To intitle us to Heaven;
4. To qualify us for Heaven;
And to each of these, these kinds of bodily Exercise are no farther profitable than as they conduce to a holy Life and internal Purity and Goodness; which is that alone by which these great Advantages are to be obtained: so that tho' they profit something, yea very much, as they are Means of Godliness, yet compared with Godliness it self, they profit but very little; because these are only instrumental to make us godly, but it is Godliness alone that reconciles us unto God, and perfects our Natures, and qualifies us for Heaven. In these four Respects therefore these kinds of bodily Exercise do, in comparison with Godliness, profit but very little.
1. As to the reconciling us to God. 'Tis true, this bodily Religion is instrumental to reconcile us unto God, so far as it tends to purify our Minds, and to inspire us with a divine and God-like Nature; but farther than this, it hath no Influence at all upon it; for there is nothing can reconcile God to us, or us to God, but only a mutual Likeness and Agreement. While we continue in our Sins, we cannot love God, our Nature being repugnant to His, who is infinitely holy, and pure, and good; nor can He love us, His Nature being repugnant to ours, which is vile, and wicked, and unreasonable. And how can two Natures be reconciled, which have such mutual Antipathies to each other? How can we love him whilst we are so prevalently averse to all that is lovely and amiable in Him, and so unreasonably fond of every thing that He hates and abhors? Doubtless while there is such a Contrariety between God and us, it is impossible we should love him without hating our selves. Hence the Apostle tells us, that the carnal Mind is not only an enemy, but that it is enmity it self to God, Rom. viii. 7. It is Spight and Rancor in the Abstract, being as repugnant to His pure and holy Nature, as Heaven is to Hell, or Light to Darkness. And the same Apostle gives us an Account of this Enmity, and shews us from whence it doth arise, Col. i. 21. And you that were sometime alienated and enemies in your minds by wicked works: These are the Make-baits that infuse into our Souls a secret Enmity to God, by inspiring them with such Dispositions as are altogether repugnant to the Purity and Heliness of his Nature; and there is nothing will extinguish these wicked Dispositions, from whence our Enmity to God doth arise, but only the contrary Habits of Virtue and true Goodness. So that all our bodily Exercises in Religion do no otherwise tend to reconcile our Minds to God, than as they are instrumental to destroy the Body of Sin in us, and to beget in us a Divine and God-like Nature; which if they do not effect, they will leave us at as great a distance from God as ever they found us; and after all our Professions, and bodily Severities, our rapturous Passions in Religion, and fluent Strains of Devotion; after our Hearing, and Praying, and Receiving of Sacraments, we shall be found as utter Enemies to God as ever we were before: For there is nothing can reconcile the Mind of a Man to God, but only a thorough Conformity and Agreement in Nature with him. And as we cannot be reconciled to God without being godly, so neither can God be reconciled to us. 'Tis true he bears a hearty Good-will to all his Creation, and earnestly desires the Welfare of every Being that he hath made capable of any degree of Happiness; and there is no Man whatsoever excluded from this his universal Benevolence, which with outstretched Arms embraces the whole Creation: But it is impossible he should love any, so as to be pleased with or delighted in them, but only those that are good; for tho' his Love be terminated upon infinite Objects, yet it is founded upon one unchangeable Reason, and that is true Goodness, which is the only Motive of wise and reasonable Love. Thus he loves Himself, not purely because he is Himself; for that would be rather an Instinct, than a reasonable Love; but because he is good: and he loves Himself above all other Things, not out of a blind unreasonable Fondness to himself, but because he knows Himself to be the highest and most perfect Good. And if upon an impossible Supposition, he were less good than he is, he would doubtless love himself less than he doth; but because his own Essence is the fairest Copy, and most perfect Idea of Goodness; therefore if he love reasonably, he must love Himself most; and consequently love all other things proportionably as they approach and resemble Himself in Goodness, and Purity, and Holiness. For if he love himself best, because he is most good, he must necessarily love all other things proportionably as they are more or less good; and indeed he could not love Himself infinitely, should he love us for any other Reason, but that for which he loves Himself: For he can love Himself no farther than he hath Reason for it; and therefore if he had other Reasons to love us, beyond what he hath to love Himself, he would not love Himself infinitely; because he would not have infinite Reason for it. So that it is plain, God loves Himself and us for the same general Reason. And as he doth not love Himself, but because he is good; so he doth not love us, meerly because we are such and such Men, out of a peculiar Fondness to our individual Persons; but because we resemble Him in that Goodness and Purity for which he loves Himself. For one of these three things we must say, That either God loves us for no Reason at all, which would be a degrading of his most wise Love into a foolish Fondness; or else that he loves us for our Sins, which would be to make Him love different Objects, Himself and us, upon contrary Reasons; or that he loves us for our Goodness, and Conformity to his own most pure and perfect Nature. This therefore is that alone, that will reconcile God to us, and without this all our bodily Religion is insignificant. Tho' we should profess Religion with the Constancy of Martyrs, and our whole Lives were a continued Rapture of Religious Passions; tho' we should fast our selves into Skeletons, and pray till our Knees clave to the ground; tho' we should live upon Sacraments, and hear as many Sermons as there are hours in the Day; yet if upon all this we do not grow more charitable and benevolent, more honest and temperate, more humble and heavenly minded, it will be all to no purpose; for when all is done, there is nothing but true Goodness can indear us to the good God. So that it is apparent, that notwithstanding all our bodily Exercises, so long as we continue in our Sins, there is so vast a Gulf between God and us, that neither we can go to Him, nor he come to us; and, unless God alters his Nature by becoming impure as we are impure, or we alter ours by becoming pure as He is pure, so immense is the Distance between him and us, that it is impossible we should ever meet and agree. What the Prophet therefore says of Sacrifice, may be said of all bodily Religion, Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of Rams or ten thousand rivers of Oil? Will he be reconciled with zealous Professions, fluent Prayers, or melting Passions? no, no; He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good. And what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do Iustice, to love Mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God, Micah vi. 7, 8.
2. Bodily Exercise profits but little in comparison with Godliness, as to the perfecting of our Natures. 'Tis true, this bodily Exercise is instrumental of our Perfection, so far as it promotes in us the Virtues of Godliness and Religion; if it makes us meek and humble, and just, and charitable, and temperate; if it inspires us with a sincere Love to God, and a dutiful Awe and Dread of his Majesty; if it produces in us a hearty Submission to his Will, and a constant Dependence upon his Truth and Goodness; then indeed it doth effectually conduce to the Perfection and Accomplishment of our Natures, it being productive of that wherein the Perfection of our Natures doth consist: But if these are not the Effects of it, we are never the better for it, and after all our Hearing, and Praying, and Professing, our Nature will be still as maim'd and imperfect as ever it was before. For the Perfection of a Rational Nature consists not in Forms and Outsides, and such and such bodily Motions and mechanical Exercises of our Sense and Passion, but in being wise and good; in having our Understandings informed with the Principles of right Reason, and our Wills and Affections regulated by them. For to be a perfect Man, is to live up to the highest Principle of Humane Nature, and that is Reason; which is the proper Character of our Beings that distinguishes us from all sublunary Natures, and sets us in a Form of Being above them. When therefore we are released from the Slaveries of Sense and Passion, and all our Powers are perfectly subdued to this superior Principle, as to do every thing that it commands, and nothing that it forbids, and we choose and refuse, and love and hate, and hope, and fear, and desire, and delight, according as right Reason directs and dictates to us; then, and not till then, we are come to the full Stature of perfect Men in Christ Iesus. Now what else is Godliness, but only an Habit of living according to the Laws of Reason, or an accustoming our selves in all our Circumstances, to do those Things that are most fit and reasonable; to demean our selves towards God, our Selves, and all the World, with that Devotion, Sobriety, and Justice, as becomes Rational Beings placed in our Condition and Circumstances? This is Godliness; and till we are in some measure arrived to this, our Faculties are wholly out of Joint, notwithstanding all our bodily Religion. For so long as we live in a state of Sin, we live in Rebellion to our own Reason, and the Natural Polity of our Souls is dissolved into a wild confused Anarchy. Our Reason, that was made to govern us, is inslaved by its own Vassals, and forced to truckle to our Passions and Appetites. The Law in our Members controuls the Law in our Minds, and countermands the Dictates of our purest Reason; and so our Nature is turned upside-down, and the Cardinal Points of our Motion changed into quite contrary Positions. And so far is our Nature from being perfected without Godliness, that it is the most wretched confused thing in the whole World; a mere undistinguished Chaos, where frigida cum calidis, Sense and Reason, Brute and Man, are shuffled together in a heap of rude and undigested Ruins: and being in this sick disorderly Condition, what can recover us but only inuring and accustoming our selves to live godlily; or, which is all one, according to the Prescripts of right Reason? This, by degrees, will re-advance our Reason to its native Throne, and reduce our rebellious Passions and Appetites to a pure and spiritual Mind: This will set our disjointed Faculties in order, and restore our decayed Nature to its primitive Health and Vigour. For by inuring our selves to a Life of Reason, our Passions and Appetites will by degrees be tamed and civiliz'd, so that at length it will be natural and easie to us; and then we shall chearfully go on from one degree of Virtue to another, till all the Unevennesses of our Natures are filed off, and our Souls are polished into living Images of the most perfect God; till we come to that heavenly permanent state of ever knowing and doing that which is best and most reasonable: and this is the utmost Pitch of Perfection that any reasonable Nature can aspire to. So that it is Godliness alone that doth perfect our Natures, and restore us to the pure state of reasonable Beings. For to be perfectly godly is to be perfectly conformable to the eternal Laws of Reason; and he that is so, is advanced to the utmost Pitch of Perfection that his reasonable Nature is capable of.
3. Bodily Exercise profits but little in comparison with Godliness, as to the entitling us to Heaven and eternal Life: For God hath been so gracious, as not only to assure us that there is a Heaven and future Happiness, but he hath also promised it to us upon certain Terms and Conditions, that so by performing these, we might not only believe that there is a Heaven, but also be inspired with a certain Hope of enjoying it. For upon our performing the Condition upon which Heaven is promised to us, we are vested with such an inalienable Right to it, as we can never be disseised of; unless the God of Truth break his Word, which he can never do, until he ceases to be God. This therefore is one great Advantage which Religion doth design us, to beget in us such a lively Hope of that blessed Immortality which it promises to us, as might carry us chearfully through all the weary Stages of our Duty, and support our Minds under all the Calamities of this present World. And without all doubt, the Hope of Heaven is the greatest Blessing that we are capable of on this side Heaven; for if we had all the World before us, and every Pleasure of it were distilled to a Quintessence to feast our Desires and entertain our licorice Appetites, what a poor inconsiderable Trifle would it be, compared with the Hope of being transformed into the Likeness of God, and dwelling for ever in His Presence, there to spend a blissful Eternity with Saints and Angels, Arch-angels and Seraphims, in one continued everlasting Act of rapturous Love and Ioy? What mean things are all the sickly Joys, the empty, flat, evanid Pleasures this World doth afford us, compared with the ravishing Pleasures and divine Contentments that spring from such vast and mighty Hopes? This Hope of Heaven therefore being so highly advantageous to us, God hath therefore promised it to us upon certain Terms and Conditions, that so we might have a sure Foundation to build our Hope upon; that we might know upon what Grounds we are to expect that blessed Reward, which we could never have done, had God left himself free to with-hold or bestow it upon us, according to the arbitrary, and, to us, uncertain Determinations of his Will, and not bequeathed it to us upon such Conditions by his own irrevocable Promise. That therefore which gives us a Right to Heaven, and is the only true Ground of our Hopes of it, is our performing the Condition upon which it is promised to us; and the Condition upon which it is promised to us, is nothing less than true and universal Godliness. And hence the Apostle tells us, that without holiness no man shall see the Lord, Heb. xii. 14. and our Saviour, in Matth. v. restrains the Beatitudes of the other World to those that are poor in Spirit, and pure in Heart, that are benign and merciful, that hunger and thirst after Righteousness, and that endure the unjust Persecutions of the World with Christian Patience, and Courage, and Constancy. And the Promise of eternal Life is limited by the Apostle to those who by patient continuance in welldoing, seek for glory, and honour, and immortality, Rom. ii. 7. And if Godliness be the sole Condition of eternal Life, then it necessarily follows, that all our bodily Exercises in Religion do no farther conduce to entitle us to it, than as they conduce to make us godly and vertuous; which if they do not effect, they give us no more Right to Heaven, or Ground to hope for it, than the most indifferent Actions in the World. Hence our Saviour hath told us before hand, that we may know what to trust to, Not every one that saith unto me Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he that doth the will of my Father which is in heaven, Matth. vii. 21. that is, not every one that professes my Name, and acknowledges me for his Lord and Master, and makes solemn Prayers and Addresses to me, shall be admitted into the Kingdom of Happiness; such outward bodily Exercises as these will never entitle any Man unto that blessed Condition: Tho' you should profess my Name never so solemnly, and pray to me with never so much Fervor and Earnestness, yet do not think I will be brib'd by such Trifles to connive at your Sins, and admit you into Heaven notwithstanding all your Impieties; no, no; I do assure you before hand, that you may know what to trust to, that there is nothing but your sincere Submission unto the Will of my Father, shall ever perswade me to receive you into his heavenly Kingdom. Let us not therefore flatter our selves any longer with vain Expectances of Heaven, upon the account of our bodily Religion; for unless our Natures are chang'd, and our Minds reformed and better'd by it, we may as well lay claim to Heaven because we eat and drink and sleep, as because we pray, and hear, and receive Sacraments: For tho' these bodily Exercises are profitable Means to entitle us to Heaven, yet it is only upon this Account, because they are Means to make us good; but if they do not effect this, they are all but so many insignificant Cyphers. He therefore that builds his Hope of Heaven meerly upon bodily Religion, builds upon a sandy Foundation, which if he finally trust to, will sink under him, and bury him in eternal Ruins.
4. And lastly, Bodily Exercise profits but little in comparison with Godliness, as to the qualifying us for Heaven; which is a distinct Consideration from the former. For supposing we could have a Right to Heaven, without being disposed and qualify'd for it, it would be no Advantage at all to us; for before we can enjoy Heaven, our Minds must be reconciled to the Pleasures and Delights of it, or else it is impossible they should be Pleasures to us. Now in the Temper of every wicked Mind there is a natural Antipathy unto all those pure and spiritual Joys wherewith the heavenly State abounds, which being pure, and chaste, and refined, can never agree with the vitiated Palate of a base degenerate Soul. For what Concord can there be between spiteful and devilish Spirits, and the Fountain of all Love and Goodness? between sensual and carnalized Souls that understand no other Pleasures but only those of the Flesh, and those pure and virgin Spirits that never eat nor drink, but live for ever upon Wisdom, and Holiness, and Love, and Contemplation? How could I be happy in seeing that God, whom I cannot love; in conversing with those Spirits, whose Genius and Temper I abhor; and in being for ever employed in those heavenly Exercises, to which I have the greatest Aversation; no, no; till I am of the same Disposition with those celestial Inhabitants, and my Mind is contempered to the heavenly State, it is impossible that Heaven and I should ever agree; and I may as well see without Eyes, or hear without Ears, as enjoy Heaven without a Heavenly Disposition. For as to the main, we shall be of the same Temper of Mind when we come into the other World, as we are of while we continue in this, it being unimaginable how our Disposition should be totally changed meerly by passing out of one World into another; and therefore as in this World it is Likeness that doth congregate and associate Beings together, so doubtless it is in the other too: so that if we carry thither with us our wicked devilish Dispositions, (as we shall doubtless do, unless we subdue and mortify them here) there will be no Company fit for us to asscciate with, but only the Devils, and damned Ghosts of wicked Men; with whom our wretched Spirits being already joined by a Likeness of Nature, will be forced to congregate, as soon as ever they are excommunicated from the Society of Mortals. For whither should they flock but to the Birds of their own Feather? Where should they join Society, but with those malignant Spirits to whom they are joined already by a Community of Natures? For supposing that when they are landed in Eternity, it were left to their own Liberty to go either to Heaven or Hell; yet Heaven would be no Place for them, the Air of that bright Empire of eternal Day would never agree with their black and hellish Natures; for alas! what should they do among those blessed Souls that inhabit it, to whose Godlike Natures, divine Conversations, and heavenly Employments, they have the greatest Repugnancy and Aversation? From hence therefore it is apparent, that to our comfortable Possession of Heaven it is not only necessary we should have a Right to it, but also that we should be prepared and qualified for it; and as to this, all our bodily Exercises in Religion are no farther profitable than as they are effectual Means of true substantial Godliness. For when the Soul goes out of this Body, it must leave all this bodily Religion behind it, and carry nothing with it into Eternity, but only those divine Virtues and heavenly Dispositions, which by the Means of this bodily Religion it did here acquire. For our outward Professions and bodily Severities and Passions, our praying, and hearing, and receiving of Sacraments, are all but Scaffolds to this heavenly Building of inward Purity and Goodness; and when once this is finished for Eternity, then must these Scaffolds go down as Things of no farther Use or Necessity. But as for the Graces of the Mind, they shall stand for ever as the only fit Habitations of the heavenly Pleasures; and therefore 'tis impossible that these our bodily Exercises should formally dispose our Souls for Heaven, since in Heaven they shall wholly cease. For altho' our Love and Ioy, and all our sweeter Affections, shall there be kept in everlasting Exercise, yet shall they be wholly refined from all bodily Passion, because there we shall be stript into naked and unbodied Spirits. Our Love shall unite our Wills to God and the whole Choir of blessed Spirits, without any Warmth of Spirit, or Expansions of Heart. Our Ioy being purely the Jubilee of our Minds and the Recreation of our Reason, shall flow without Shouts or Noises in a most sweet but silent Current; and the whole Scene of our Happiness shall be transacted on the Stage of our Reason. There being therefore no room for bodily Exercise in this heavenly State, it is impossible we should be qualified by it for the Enjoyment of Heaven; but doubtless, our Fitness for Heaven must consist in such inherent Qualities of Mind as separate Souls may carry to Heaven with them; and what these are, may be easily concluded by considering what the Employment of Heaven is; which, so far as we are given to understand of it, consists in contemplating and adoring the Divinity, and in conversing with those pure and blessed Spirits that dwell for ever in his Presence. Now to make us fit for such an Employment, the only necessary Qualities of Mind are an universal Love, and a profound Humility, which two are the fundamental Vertues of Religion, of which all the other Vertues are so many different Operations. 'Tis true, our Love and Humility will not have all the same Operations in the other World as they have in this, because there we shall not have the same Occasions for them; for being placed above all Sufferings in the Enjoyment of the most perfect Good, we shall have no occasion either for the passive Vertues of Patience, and Meekness, and Forgiveness of Injuries; nor yet for those active Vertues which speak us distant from our Happiness, such as Faith and Hope, which shall be swallow'd up in Vision and Fruition. But tho' in that blessed State we shall have no occasion to express our Love and Humility in such Acts as these, yet without these two great Vertues we shall be no ways capable of the heavenly Employment; for what Pleasure can we take in contemplating the Being of God, if we do not love Him? Doubtless our own Antipathy to the Goodness and Purity of His Nature will either avert our Eyes from beholding him, or render the Sight of him horrible and dreadful to us. And if we do not contemplate him with an humble and lowly Mind, the Sight of his supereminent Perfections will either provoke our Envy or Contempt, make us pine to see our selves out-shone by him, or contemn his Glories out of an overweening Opinion of our own. Again, if we do not love God, we cannot adore him with a free and chearful Mind; and if we are proud and self-conceited, instead of God we shall adore our Selves, and become our own Idols and Votaries. So that without Humility and Love we shall be no ways fit for the other part of that sweet Employment which consists in conversing with holy and blessed Spirits; for their Conversation being wholly regulated by the sacred Laws of wise and holy Friendship, and consisting in an everlasting Intercourse of chaste and mutual Indearments; no Soul can be capable of bearing a Part in it that is not inspired with universal Love and great Humility; both which are indispensibly necessary to every wise and friendly Conversation: For where Humility is wanting, every Trifle will offend; and where Charity is wanting, every Offence will kindle an unquenchable Discord. So that a proud malicious Nature can converse no where with Satisfaction, much less with those blessed Souls, in whose most pure and perfect Friendship there is not the least Intermixture either of Flattery or Envy; for being all perfectly good and perfectly happy, they can neither over-value themselves, nor envy what another enjoys; so that in all their Conversation there is no Entertainment either for Pride or Malice, but on the contrary there is nothing but what is distasteful to them: for where there are none that overvalue either themselves or others, but every one loves every one with a sincere and inviolable Friendship, there can be no Conversation but what is distasteful to an arrogant and malicious Temper. What then should a proud malignant Spirit do among those happy Beings, a great Part of whose Heaven consists in rejoycing in each others Happiness? Doubtless could such a Spirit be admitted into their Society, their Bliss would so enrage its Envy, their Perfection so upbraid its Baseness, that it would find nothing but Causes of Discontent in a Conversation so disagreeable to its Nature: so that without universal Love and profound Humility, there is nothing in Heaven that we can enjoy; there being no Employment in that blessed State that is agreeable to the Genius of a proud and malicious Mind. So that unless our bodily Religion doth make us really good by begetting in us those heavenly Vertues of Humility and Love, it is altogether impertinent as to the disposing of us for Heaven; and after all our fasting, and praying, and hearing, and receiving of Sacraments, we shall be found as remote from Heaven, and as unprepared for it, as if we had spent our time in gathering Cockles, or telling the Sands upon the Sea-shore. So that tho' this bodily Exercise be highly useful and necessary to our Reformation and Amendment, and is in it self a very conducive Means to internal Holiness and Goodness; yet compared with Godliness it self, wherein our Holiness and Goodness doth consist, it is of very little Account, either as to the reconciling us to God, or the perfecting our Natures, or to the entitling us to Heaven, or qualifying us for it.
Now from hence we may learn, what the true End is of external and bodily Religion: It is not required for its own sake without any farther End or Intention, but for the sake of Godliness, which is the ultimate Mark at which it ought to be levelled and directed. And therefore as he that would build an House must make use of the Means, the Tools and Materials of Building; but if he think to build the House meerly by using these Means, by cutting the Wood and carving the Stone, without any farther Aim or Intention, he will find himself extreamly mistaken: so he that would be godly must use the Means of Godliness; he must profess the true Religion, and pray, and hear, and receive Sacraments; but he that thinks he is godly meerly because he uses these Means, tho' he doth not at all concern himself to direct them unto the great End for which they were designed, doth but deceive and abuse his own Soul. For, for God's sake, what doth it signify for a Man to pray in his Family, and afterwards to go and cheat in his Shop? to keep the Lord's Day strictly, and play the Knave all the Week after? What doth it avail for a Man to hear the Word of God, if he make no Conscience of obeying it? to receive the Sacrament of Charity, if he still retain Hatred and Ill-will to his Neighbour? Do we think that God is so fond of these instrumental Duties of Religion, as for their sakes to dispense with these gross and fulsome Immoralities? No, no; these are things only fit to cheat Children and Fools withal. But let us not imagine, that the wise and holy God will be so imposed upon; that when he hath ordained these Duties only as the Means of acquiring that universal Purity and Goodness which he principally intends and requires, he will be contented barely with your using these Means, whether the great Ends for which he designed them be ever obtained by you or no. If you should enjoin your Servant to copy out such a Letter or Manuscript, and for that End should require him to use Pen, Ink, and Paper; would you not think him extreamly absurd or insolent, should he come and shew you a large insignificant Scribble, and tell you that according to your Command he had used the Pen, Ink, and Paper, tho' indeed he had not transcribed one Word with them of what you did command and enjoin him? And yet thus rudely and insolently do you deal by God, who place all your Religion in the instrumental Duties of it. God doth require of you that you should copy out his Iustice, Purity, and Goodness, and transcribe them into your own Natures; and in order to your doing of this, he hath prescribed you certain Means and Instruments, such as Prayer, and Hearing, and receiving of Sacraments; and when you come to give him an account of that mighty Task he hath enjoined you, you shew him an insignificant Flourish of Religion, and have nothing to say for your selves but that according to his Appointment you have prayed, and heard, and received Sacraments; but you must confess that with all these you have not transcribed one Tittle or Iota of that Purity and Holiness which he required at your hands. Is this a proper account, do you think, to be given to the wise and holy Soveraign of the World? Would you be thus mocked by your own Servants? and dare you presume thus to mock the great God, between whom and you there is infinitely a greater distance than between you and the meanest Vassal about you? In the Name of God, for what End do you pray? Is it to please him with a fine Speech, or an humble and eloquent Address? or is it to persmade him by your fawning Submissions to befriend you in all your Wickedness and Rebellion against him? If either of these be your Aims, I must plainly tell you, you were as good save your Breath for some other purpose; but if you pray to him upon a sincere Design, to affect your Minds with an awful Sense of God, and to obtain of him Grace to enable you to repent and amend, and for Pardon and Mercy upon your unfeigned Repentance; then your Prayer must necessarily make you more meek, and humble, and industrious to please him by a free and generous Obedience. To what purpose do you come to hear the Word of God? Do you think it gratifies the Almighty that you will please to give him the Hearing? or that you meet in the publick Assemblies to furnish your Heads with Notions and your Tongues with Discourse? If this be your Opinion, I must needs tell you, you have very mean Apprehensions of God, to think him a Being capable to be pleased with such a mean and inconsiderable Trifle: but, if you come with humble, honest, and teachable Minds to learn the Will of God in order to your obeying it, your hearing will necessarily lead you to the Practice of all those excellent Virtues which God requires at your hands. What do you design when you receive the Sacrament? is it to please God with offering Vows to him, which you do not mean to perform, to pacify him with a short Pang of religious Passion, with shedding a few Tears over your bleeding Saviour; or to get your Pardon sealed with the Blood of the Covenant without Repentance and Reformation? If so, I must needs tell you, you receive the Sacrament to no other purpose, but only to deceive and abuse your own Souls. But if you come with an honest Design to remember the great things that your Saviour hath done for you; to excite your Love to him with the Spectacle of his Passion, and to renew your Communion with the Saints, and your Vows of Obedience unto God; you will then infallibly be made better by it, and be more and more accomplish'd in every part of true and real Goodness. So that unless we perform this outward and bodily Religion to the Purposes of true Godliness, we perform it to no purpose at all. Let me therefore beseech you, even for God's sake and your own Souls, do not rest in this bodily Religion, think not that you have done enough, when you have fasted and prayed, heard and received Sacraments; for if you do, you are short of your Duty, and will infallibly fall short of the Reward of it. These Things indeed we must by no means neglect, they being the necessary Means and Instruments of our Reformation; but if we do not use them as such, we take a great deal of Pains to no purpose; if they do not render us more humble and charitable, more sober and heavenly-minded, we have spent all our Labour in vain, and in the End shall have no other Reward for it but the Portion of Hypocrites in the Lake of Fire and Brimstone.