The Christians Guide to Devotion, Part 1
PART I.
CHAP. I. What Devotion is, and wherein it conſiſts.
THIS is not a Subject to be defined according to Rules: It has leſs of the School than the Cloſet, and good ignorant Souls can inſtruct us better in it, than thoſe who have more Knowledge than Integrity. Yet the Schools, which buſie themſelves every where, undertake to define Devotion as well as other things. Some would define it by a tenderneſs of heart, and … mollified Spirit; Others by an internal Comfort, which the Devout are ſenſible of in their Practiſe of Piety: A third ſort ſay, 'tis a Quickneſs and Prompti…ude of Mind, whereby holy People are carried to the Service of God. Some there are, who make it …o conſiſt in an unſpeakable and a glorious Joy, which …lls the faithful, and makes them ſay, My Soul is ſatisfied …s with Marrow and Fatneſs. Others have defin'd it …y the Affections. In the firſt place, to all this I ſay, That it may be a piece of Raſhneſs to go about to de…ne a thing we know not how well to expreſs; ſince … is of the number of thoſe which cannot well be con…ived, but by them who feel it, nor can well be de…ribed, although one conceives it. Nevertheleſs we cannot define it by one word alone, nor by one motion of the Soul: for it is compoſed of all the Species's of Paſſions; it admits of contrary Sentiments. … has Deſires, and it has Fears; Terrours and Hopes … Love and Hatred; Joy and Sadneſs; Ardour and Zea… Quickneſs and Alacrity. It has Deſires; every D… vout Soul vehemently deſiring to be well with Go… and to be united to him. As the Hart panteth after t… Water-brooks, ſo panteth my Soul after thee, O God. … Soul thirſteth for God, for the living God: When ſhall come and appear before God? It admits of Fear; for good Soul is ever afraid of its unworthineſs to poſſe… the Graces which it ſo paſſionately deſires; I am … worthy, ſayes it to our Lord Jeſus, that thou ſhould'ſt co… under my Roof. If it be in poſſeſſion of its God, it fe… to loſe him; it watches even in ſleep: I ſleep, but … Heart waketh: fearing, leſt ſomething ſhould ravi… away its Beloved.
Terrour alſo enters into the Compound of th… Vertue; namely, when the Soul is fall'n into ſo… great ſin, the preſence of its God aſtoniſhes it, and … Majeſty fills it with horrible Apprehenſions. A… without this, the devout Soul never preſents it … before God, but it remembers, that before him … Angels tremble, and it ſayes, Oh! how terrible is t… place; this is the Houſe of the living God. Moreov… Love is to be found in it, and we may ſay, that Lo… is as the Source and Baſis of Devotion. In conſid… ing both the Beauty and Goodneſs of God, it is touch with a violent deſire of Union; It ſays with the Spo… Let him kiſs me with the kiſſes of his Mouth, for his L… is ſweeter than Wine. There is alſo Hatred; for … devout Soul cannot love God, unleſs it renounce S… love, and hate the World, the love of which is inc… patible with that of God. There is Joy too, for … ty has its Feaſts, and the Wiſe man ſays, the hea… a juſt man is a continual Banquet. Thou haſt put, ſayes David, more Joy in my heart, than the wicked have of their abundance, My heart is glad, my Glory rejoyceth: my Fleſh alſo ſhall reſt in hope. Yet we muſt confeſs, that this Light is not altogether pure: Devotion has its Melancholy amidſt its Joyes, and frequently it ſighs at the ſenſe of its Infirmities.
The laſt ingredient of Devotion is Promptitude and Ardour, which is, as it were, the Body of Devotion, and appears more than the reſt in a devout Soul. It has an inconceivable chearfulneſs in the exerciſes of Piety; it hears the Word; it Prays; it Reads; it Meditates; it communicates; as others do the moſt Pleaſant things in the World. It runs, it flies to theſe actions, and undertaking 'em with a Gaiety of heart, does 'em with great eaſe. Theſe are, methinks, the movements that compoſe Devotion; but we muſt obſerve, that in all People, they are not evermore in the ſame degree. Always ſome one of them does Reign: ſometimes Joy bears ſway, another while Grief; oftentimes Alacrity, other times the Deſires. And hence it comes to paſs, that if we conſult the Devout upon the nature of Devotion, they will anſwer us very differently, becauſe every one will ſay, that he feels within himſelf, and that every one feels within himſelf things very different from thoſe of other men. It happens alſo, that one and the ſame Soul feels a different Devotion at divers times; the Motions, whereof we have ſpoken, ruling by Turns; To day a faithful Perſon ſhall be fill'd with hope in the view of a bleſſing to come, and to morrow with joy in the poſſeſſion of the preſent good. One time by reaſon of his Sins, Sadneſs ſhall domineer; another time the Deſires ſhall reign: and this alteration proceeds from the diverſity of Eſtates, wherein the Conſcience finds it ſelf, and the variety of Proſpects, which Meditations preſents it withall, in conſidering God ſome times with reſpect had to his Love and Mercy, other times to his Severity and Juſtice. Frequently too he will eye his Conſcience both in its ſtrongeſt and in its weakeſt parts; and this may change ſome things in the Agitations of his Devotion. Chearfulneſs likewiſe, which ſeems to be the very Eſſence and Soul of this Virtue, is not inſeparable from it, and ſometimes the moſt heav'nly Souls find themſelves under a gloomy and ſad weight: But when this Briskneſs is abſent, its place is poſſeſt by a ſtinging Diſpleaſure for its Abſence.
Meditation.
ALas! my Soul, how ignorant art thou in things Divine! The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are fooliſhneſs to him. Theſe are profound Abyſſes, which thou canſt not ſound: Thy light is nothing but darkneſs: But yet aſtoniſhing it is not, that thou knoweſt not heavenly things, which God has reſerv'd to himſelf, and lockt up in his own Breaſt. 'Tis more ſtrange, thou knoweſt not what God does in this, and art ignorant of thoſe Divine things, which are in thy Heart. Vain and haughty, as thou art, with the advantages which Nature has given thee above the viſible Creatures, thou ſaieſt, thou art an incarnate Angel; ſay rather, that thou art an Angel impriſoned in a dark and diſmal manſion, who knoweſt but in part, and ſee'ſt but in part, obſcurely, and as in a Glaſs, through the thick veil of Fleſh and Blood.
Prayer.
O My God, thou Father of Lights, from whom cometh every good and perfect gift, open mine eyes, that I may ſee the wondrous things of thy Law. I am a Stranger upon Earth, and a Sojourner: Oh! hide not from me thy Commandments. I am inquiring into the Nature of Devotion: I ſhall not be able to know it without thee. In vain ſhall I ſearch for it in the works of another, unleſs I find it in mine own Heart. I do not find what I ſeek for there, where then ſhall I find it? Even in thee my God, who art the Source of what I look for. Raiſe therefore in my Heart thoſe flames of Zeal and Piety, that being filled therewith my Soul may not need but to ſtudy it ſelf to attain this knowledge, and after the attainment may be able to love it, and make others do ſo too. Let it ſparkle and ſhine in all my Words and Actions like a Torch that lights my Neighbours, and let it kindle in them the holy flames of Devotion.
CHAP. II. Of the Effects of Devotion.
IN ſpeaking of the nature of Devotion in the precedent Chapter, we inſinuated all its Effects: but it will not be amiſs nor unprofitable to unfold them a little more: for, theſe Effects, well underſtood, will lead us to the knowledge of the Cauſe, and ſerve us for a Touch-ſtone, whereby pious Souls may try both the purity and the progreſs of their Devotion.
The firſt of theſe effects is a vehement Paſſion, to converſe with God and pour forth our grief into his Boſom; to hear his Word, and to receive the Gages of his Love in his Sacraments. You ſee this Diſpoſition in David, who ſighs after the Houſe of God, and finds nothing in his Exile more inſupportable than his Baniſhment from the Court of the Lord's Houſe. Jealous he is of the Condition of the Swallows, that build their Neſts there. He would be a Door-keeper in this houſe, and never ſtir from thence; My Soul hath a deſire to enter into thy Courts, ſays he: I have asked one thing of the Lord, that I may dwell in his houſe all the days of my life. He avows, that the hopes of ſeeing God again in his houſe do ſuſtain him, and keep him from falling into Deſpair: I had fainted, unleſs I had believed to ſee the Goodneſs of the Lord in the Land of the Living. The faithful Soul has no leſs Paſſion for the Solitude of its Cloſet than David had for the Temple of his God; It looks upon thoſe hours as loſt which 'tis obliged to throw away upon the World; and as ſoon as it can withdraw it ſelf from the hurry and buſtle of Affairs, it runs to the Boſom of its God, as the Hart to the Water-brooks; as a covetous Perſon to the ſearch of Riches; as a Courtier watches for the Hour and Place to ſee his Prince and to be ſeen, and receive from him conſiderable Favours.
A ſecond Effect is a Joy, which we may call inconceivable, when the Devout in their Devotions feel their Heart diſplay'd, and the Holy Ghoſt appears with all the Riches of his Grace, and all the Treaſures of his Conſolations. If any one ſhould inquire of ſuch a Soul why it is ſo ſatisfied, perhaps it would be an hard matter for it to tell him: but the true cauſe of this Joy is, That God does exert in it his comfortable and wholſom Rays, which are ever accompanied with a plenary Happineſs. The Pleaſure which an avaricious man takes in counting his Money, which the ambitious taſte in hoping for new Grandeurs, which the Epicurean finds in his Feaſts and Debauches; all this, I ſay, is unſavoury and of a bad taſte in compariſon of that Joy which the pious Soul perceives in communicating with its God. This is an Ocean which overwhelms and drowns all the Perplexities and Troubles of the Fleſh. The Perſecuted find here their Sanctuary; the Poor, Riches; the Sick-man, Health; the Contemptible, Glory; the Humble, Grandeur; and the Miſerable, a general Oblivion of all his Calamities. This is that wherein a Soul, tired with the World, finds that heavenly Repoſe, which makes it with Indignation, and yet with Pity, look upon the cruel Agitations of worldly men, that are tied to the racking Wheels and Stones of Ixions and Siſyphus's, that is to ſay, to Labours, that always return and never have an end.
Hence ſprings another effect of Devotion; namely, To forget this World. When the Devout Perſon ſhuts the door of his Cloſet, we may ſay, he ſhuts the door to the World, ſaying to himſelf, Get ye gone ye worldly Thoughts; retire ye Objects of Vanity, and approach not near this place; let me rejoyce in the quiet of this ſecure Sanctuary, and ſuffer me to give my ſelf wholly up to my God. The pious Soul after this manner dies many times a day: for Death does not more efface the Images of worldly things, than Devotion, when it takes a Chriſtian out of the World. This Soul may ſay at ſuch a time, The World is crucified unto me, and I unto the World: I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me; and the Life which I now live in the Fleſh I live by the Faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himſelf for me. We need not wonder if the World quits the place in this moment, ſince I ſuppoſe, that it before took up but very little Room in the Soul, whereof I ſpeak. God comes to poſſeſs it wholly, of which he had before the better; for the devout Heart ventures to ſay, The whole is in God, and God is in every part. In this ſtate, if by peradventure it caſts its Eyes upon the World, it looks down from on high, and with an Eye of Contempt. Alas! What are theſe ſame Riches, ſays the faithful Soul, theſe Honours and Advantages, which frequently terminate in eternal Death, to compare with the Riches that God here beſtows upon me? But near to God himſelf, whom I poſſeſs, theſe earthly Goods will vaniſh and be loſt; but I will never loſe him who holds me and whom I hold: and Death, which will diſrobe the Living of their Pomp, will inveſt me with new Glory.
The fourth Effect of Devotion is, an Alacrity in running and advancing in the Practiſe of Piety. A General flies to the Combat when he ſees an aſſured Victory: but the devout Perſon has other kind of wings, which make him fly whither Devotion conducts him. He knows not, that 'tis the drooping and weight of the Body that retains them who are call'd to Travel: he has not the Sentiments of the Sluggard, who rouls upon his Bed as a Gate upon its Hinges, who fight Battles with his Boulſter, and wages Wars with Sleep and Idleneſs, with a Deſign to be vanquiſhed. He is one of thoſe Eagles, of which ſome think our Saviour ſpoke, Where the dead Body is, thither will the Eagles be gathered together. He knows that he ſhall find his Jeſus, once dead, but now alive, either in the Church or in his Cloſet: he flies thither with the Swiftneſs of an hungry Eagle; nothing is capable of ſtopping him; Friends, Enemies, Employs, Occupations, Prayers, Menaces, Fears and Dangers, all uſeleſs: for in poſting he can ſurmount all Obſtaeles in the way.
Another Effect of Devotion is, a certain Elevation of Soul, which I cannot term otherwiſe than a ſort of Extaſie, whereby the Soul is as it were, raviſh'd from its ſelf. 'Tis ſo knit to the Contemplation of Coeleſtial Objects, that not only it has no more intelligence of earthly things, but it has no Senſe, no Ears, no Eyes; it ſees not, it underſtands not St. Peter, while he prayed, ſaw the Heavens opened, and a certain Veſſel deſcending to the Earth, as it had been a great ſheet knit at the four Corners. St. Paul in Prayer was raviſhed even to the third Heaven; and the Devout even at this time of day have their Extaſie. They ſee with Stephen the Heavens opened; they are lifted up to Heaven with St. Paul; for they enter into a ſecret Commerce with God. The Soul inwardly is ſo taken up, that it ſees nothing at all of what paſſes without; and contributing its whole force to the Contemplation of God, no Wonder, it has no more for other Objects. Bleſſed are they, ſays St. Baſil, who are fill'd with, and infolded in the Contemplation of this true Beauty; ſince being bound to it by the Cords of Charity, and of an heavenly and divine Love, they forget their Parents, Friends, Houſes; they forget even the neceſſity of eating and drinking. And now why ſhould it not be ſo in the Offices of Piety, when ev'ry day this happens to us in the Affairs of the World? While we are ſtrongly fixt to Reading, to diſintangle a crabbed and knotty matter, while we anſwer an Adverſary, a thouſand Objects paſs before our eyes, whereof we do not take notice. The devout Soul is ſo ſhut into it ſelf, ſo well gathered up and compacted, that no external thing is able to move it. If it prays, it is intirely in Heaven; if it hears, it is wholly tyed up to the Tongue of him that ſpeaks; if it reads, its heart is always where the eyes terminate themſelves; if it meditates, it is all over plunged in it's ſubject; and if a Flock of Birds, of vain and light Thoughts, come to ſoil its Sacrifice, as that of Abraham, it ſcares them away incontinently. This is that which I underſtand by the Extaſie of Devotion: otherwiſe, if you take this term for effectual Raviſhments, which were the Priviledges of the Prophets and Saints of the firſt Order, I muſt take an infinite deal of pains to believe that the Holineſſes of the Roman Cloyſter do oblige God (as ſome would fain perſwade us) ſo ordinarily to communicate ſuch extraordinary Graces. Now a days we do not ſee thoſe Devotions, which lift up not only the Souls, but make the Body to loſe its Earth, and raiſe it to the very Clouds: Nevertheleſs, if we would believe ſome, who call themſelves good Authors, there is nothing more common.
The laſt Effect of Devotion that I ſhall mention, is, a certain Fire that warms the Heart. One cannot well conceive it unleſs one had felt it; and I cannot expreſs it otherwiſe than in the words of holy men: Did not our Heart burn within us while he talked with us, and while he opened to us the Scriptures? My Heart was hot within me; while I was meditating, the Fire burned; then ſpake I with my Tongue. We are told, how the Faces of the Saints have been oftentimes ſeen to be bright and inflamed in the midſt of their Devotions, which could not proceed but from the glowing and fiery affection of the Heart, which manifeſts it ſelf accordingly in the Countenance. This Fire we may call a Fermentation of the Spirits of Piety, which not ſeldom make Impreſſions even in the eyes. And hence, it may be, came the ſhining of St. Stephen's Face; of which it is ſaid, that his Enemies ſaw it as if it had been the Face of an Angel; his Zeal and his Devotion were evident in his Eyes, and render'd 'em ſparkling. Now this Lightning is not without its Rain; I mean, that this Fire is ordinarily accompanied with Tears. The Heart is heated, blows up that Heat, makes it grow bigger; then it ſelf grows tender, and at laſt the Eyes melt into Tears. St. Auſtin repreſents himſelf in one of theſe Illuminations, or rather, Inflamations of Heart. After, ſays he, that a ſtrong Meditation had drawn out all my Miſery from the bottom, where it lay hid, to preſent it to the Eyes of my Heart, there aroſe a great Tempeſt, which was followed by a great Shower of Tears. This weeping does not always come from a Senſe of Sin; 'tis ſometimes cauſed by a jarring diverſity of Thoughts, and a confuſion of good Emotions, which caſt the Soul into a ſort of Diſorder, but which is much better than the greateſt Calm.
Meditation.
HOW were it to be wiſht, that men were as holy, as they are Eloquent and knowing? pourtraicts they make, but where ſhall we find the Originals? I ſee plainly, that the characters of true Devotion are curious and raviſhing: but, alas! the more I enter into this Meditation, the more do I continue confus'd. When I conſider what I ought to be, to be devout, and I examin what I my ſelf am, I find that I am nothing, or that I am not juſt what I ſhould be, I do not find in my ſelf thoſe ardent deſires to be with my God, and to converſe with him by holy Prayer and Meditation. My Soul languiſhes, but it is not after the houſe of my God, nor after the ſolitude of my Cabinet. It languiſhes, for it is feeble and weak in all the motions of Piety. I do violence to my own heart, in drawing it out of the clutches of the World, to put it into the hands of God. I enter into my Cloſet, to do my Exerciſes of Piety, rather to acquit my ſelf of a Duty, which I have impoſed on my ſelf, than to follow my own inclinations. Where is that Joy, which I ought to taſte in the Acts of my Devotion? Where is that being unbound from the World, renouncing of all carnal thoughts? where is that Fervour and Alacrity, the Extaſies, the Flames, the Illuminations of that heavenly fire, whereof I am a reading the deſcription? All is dead in me: If I would quit the World to enter into my Cloſet, I carry it ſtill along with me. In all the faculties of my Soul I feel a monſtrous weight and dulneſs, which arreſts all my Elevations, and makes me tumble down back again to the Earth; my Jertings up are feeble and of a ſhort Durance, they hardly go half Way to Heaven.
Prayer.
HAve pity on my ſad Eſtate, my Father, and my God: Draw me, and I will run after thee. Why ſhould I remain in the ſhadow of Death? Thou Sun of righteouſneſs, that carrieſt healing in thy Wings, raiſe me up and quicken me: Let the Eaſt from on high viſit me with the Bowels of his Mercy. Let my heart burn within me, whilſt I read thy Scriptures, and hear thy Word: Let my Prayers be ardent, and my Piety conſtantly ſuſtained by the force and flames of thy Grace and loving kindneſs. And thou, my Soul, do not attend this loving kindneſs with Arms acroſs: go meet it, call and ſay, Come Lord Jeſus, come quickly, O God of my Salvation, awaken my heart. Awake thou that ſleepeſt, and ariſe from the dead, and Chriſt ſhall give thee Life. Chaſe away ſloath, let it no longer lye in the bed of ſecurity: baniſh all coldneſs: rid thy ſelf of that burthenſome weight that oppreſſes thee: Take the Wings of an Eagle, and to Heaven fly into the boſom of thy Saviour, and thou ſhalt find Sweets which thou haſt never yet taſted never ſeen, never heard of, and which never enter'd into thy. Imagination to conceive.
CHAP. III. The great neceſſity of Devotion.
WHO can doubt on't, and is it not ſufficient barely to know and to deſcribe it, to perſwade us to it? Devotion is the Soul of the Soul, and the very Life of Piety. 'Tis that which ſets a price and value upon the Duties and the Worſhip of a faithful Soul. A due Preparation is neceſſary to every thing. An Orator who is to ſpeak in publick firſt amaſſes his matter together, and then aſſays to put it into a good Form: A Souldier being to fight, prepares his Army, and rouzes his courage. He that goes to a Marriage, puts on a Wedding Garment: And why then do we take upon us to preſent our ſelves before God in Prayer, in reading, or in hearing his Word, in imploring his Aſſiſtance, or rendring him Actions of Gratitude, without having the holy diſpoſition of Piety and Devotion, that are before him of ſo great Price?
We do ever that thing well, which we do heartily: but when the Heart is no Party in the buſineſs, it avails nothing. The Souldier who carries not his Heart along with him, turns his back in the day of battle: and the Orator, whoſe Heart is not toucht with what he ſays, will never touch that of others. If without the Heart we cannot perform the works of the Tongue and of the Hand, how ſhall the work of the heart it ſelf be done without the Heart? This is what I call the Exerciſes of Piety and the Service of God. A Lute, can it be plaid upon, unleſs it be ſtring'd and tun'd? can a Bow ſhoot unleſs it be bent? the Heart is an Inſtrument and a Lute, the ſound whereof charms the Ears of the Almighty; but it muſt be ſtrung with all its Vertues as with ſtrings, and Devotion muſt be to it a kind of Soul, that makes every thing elſe to act. Prayer is an Arrow, that flies to the Heav'ns, but Devotion only gives it both ſtrength and Feathers. Prayer is a Sacrifice and an offering of the Heart. We muſt not therefore preſent common Riches to God without preparation and choice; and the Paſſover-Lamb was ſeparated from the Flock four days before its Immolation.
Let not the Sinner then offer to God dirty and ſoyl'd Prayers, but pure and devout ones; let him ſeparate his heart from the vanities of the World and the Folly of his vain thoughts, if he will be well-pleaſing to God.
Without Devotion the Soul is dead, the heart is but in its Body as in its Grave; What raſhneſs then to lay a dead and corrupted Beaſt upon the Altars of God? will not God ſay; I hate your Oblations, the Peace-Offerings of your fat Beaſts, and the perfume of your Incenſe; I cannot away with them. Devotion is a Fire, without which our Sacrifices could not be conſumed. It's a Fire coming down from Heav'n; it's an emanation of the Rays of the Sun of Righteouſneſs; its what muſt lift up the Smoak of our incenſe to Heay'n. Aſſure thy ſelf, thou Chriſtian Soul, that thy offerings are in the right way, and that the Flames of Devotion are alone capable of piercing thoſe Clouds thickned by Iniquity, that ſeparate us from God. The matter that makes thunder-bolts ſo maſſy and heavy, would not alwayes be mounted in the middle Region of the Air, from whence we ſee 'em hurl'd down upon the Earth, were it not carried upon the Wings of ſome inflamed Exalations. In like manner our Earthly Prayers as well as our hearts would not be able to mount the Skies, did not the flames of Devotion lift them up. So that we ought to put our heart into a good condition to hope a good ſucceſs of its worſhip. Tho never ſo much prepared, it cannot be too good for him to whom we ought to preſent it. It will be an acceptable thing to be receiv'd in this Eſtate. And what on the contrary can we expect in preſenting to him an indevout Soul, but a ſhameful and ſad refuſal? God does not hear our prayers, unleſs the Heart be diſpoſed to make them; Seek and ye ſhall find, ſaith our Lord; but ſeek with zeal, otherwiſe ye ſhall not find. God ſaid once, I was found of them that ſought me not. But this does not happen every day: this is but one of thoſe ſingular events, whereby general Rules are not eſtabliſhed. But the Law in common bears, Ask and it ſhall be given. Lay hold on the Kingdom of Heaven and thou ſhalt obtain it. To what is not Devotion uſeful? It is of uſe in all Places, all times and all things as well in the Cloſet as the Church? thereby we hear the Word pronounced by men as if it were truly the word of God, and receive it as the dry and chapped Earth does the rain. Hereby the Conſecration of the Divine benefits touches us, the thought of God's love inflames us, his promiſes comfort us, his threatnings terrifie us, and his Conſolations have their Efficacy upon us. Without this, the word, which ought to be a two-edged Sword, recoyls and turns its edge on the hardneſs of our hearts; and without this we joyn the Sin of Inſenſibility to that of Impenitence. By this we look upon every thing in the Church with veneration; the Preacher as the Embaſſador of the Goſpel; his Word as the voice of Heaven; The Faithful as the Children of God, and as it were a Troop of Angels, that always rejoyce in his preſence; the Sacraments as precious veſſels, the appearance whereof is contemptible, but which do contain the Treaſures of his Grace and Mercy. It's Devotion that makes our Cloſets to become little Churches, whether the Divinity deſcends, and upon which it extends its Wings like the Cherubims over the Mercyſeat; where God ſpeaks to our heart as we ſpeak to his ears; where he makes us underſtand his Oracles, and taſte his Conſolations; where he ſays to us in a ſtill ſmall voice, My Son or my Daughter, Be of good chear, ariſe, thy Sins are forgiven thee. Oh! how bleſſed is the faithful Soul, that God honours with ſuch ſacred Entertainments. Now he does never do this, but when call'd upon, if not forced by an ardent Devotion. Theſe deſires of Devotion may be the Eyes of the Spouſe, whereof it is ſaid, Turn away thine Eyes from me, for they have overcome me. Far be from hence thoſe prophane Wretches, that know not the uſe of Devotion. They ſay, that Valour is the Rampart of Eſtates, and the Tutelary Angel of the Publick and of Privates; that Liberality ſweetens the misfortunes of the miſerable; that Juſtice is the nurſe of Peace and the ligament of Society; that Temperance cauſes tranquillity of mind, and health of Body; But ſay they, Devotion, 'tis alone, that is good for nothing but to render the mind weak and effeminate, and to depreſs the Spirits. Do not call ſo univerſal a Vertue unprofitable, without which all the reſt are meer ſhadows: for he, that having not a habit of Devotion, does not refer all his vertues to the Glory of God, is a bad good man. Do not call that an uſeleſs Virtue which appeaſes the wrath of God, and turns away the Tempeſts flying over States; a Virtue which had drawn Sodom out of the Fire, had there been found there but ten devout Perſons like Abraham, who would have Devoutly with him interceded for it; a Virtue, which ſaves the Church ſo often from ſhip-wrack; a Virtue, which in the Conſcience raiſes up and eſtabliſhes a profound Peace and a Divine Light. Do not fay that it ſoftens the Mind; ſeeing it confirms the Courage, makes men run to death as to a Feaſt, makes 'em to deſpiſe Perils, and in its occaſions mannages nothing wherein the Glory of God is not concerned.
Meditation.
SEE one of the cauſes of my luke-warmneſs, and one of the reaſons, why my Soul is little devout. The neceſſity of Devotion it comprehends not; whereas it knows, that Food is neceſſary for the conſervation of its bodily Life. It deſires nouriſhment with a great ardour, and ſearches after it with a marvellous diligence: But negligent it is in all thoſe things which ſerve to nouriſh Piety and the flames of Devotion, ſince it does not beleive, that 'tis of any great uſe. Thou ſee'ſt, O my Soul, ſome, who ſave themſelves with a languiſhing Piety, and go to Heaven at a very ſlow pace; Thou perſuadeſt thy ſelf that God will not be more rigorous to thee, and that there will not be more exacted from thee than from others: But alas! what an errour and fallacy is there in this reaſoning? Such an one, as thou believeſt to be in the way to Heaven, is a marching towards Hell. There is ſuch a way, that ſeems right to man, the end of which nevertheleſs is Death. Theſe chill Devotions, wherewith People believe God is well paid, are oftentimes very fruitleſs. They may think it fine one day to ſay, we have prayed to thee, we have invok'd thy Name, we have ſerved thee; The Lord will not fail to anſwer, I do not know who ye are, go far from me, ye that are neither cold nor hot; I will caſt you up out of my mouth.
Prayer.
MY God, conduct my Soul in the ſureſt path. I know not how to ſound thy Mercy, nor do I know how far the ſeverity of thy Juctice will carry it ſelf and no further. I know not whether thou wilt pardon ſo many People, that ſerve thee with ſo little Zeal and ſo much indevotion. That which I know is, that they are unworthy of thy clemency, an… that they cannot be ſaved unleſs they ſincer… ly repent of having ſerved thee with ſo much indifference. Let the Candle of my Soul, th… holy Spirit, which has inlightened thy Church in all ages, and the faithful at all times, inſpire me with ſuch frankincenſe of Devotion as with which I know that one may be ſaved and without which I know not, if one ca… be ſaved; Kindle my heart that it may be an Altar, where an eternal Fire may burn in which all my ſacrifices may be conſumed and which may make all my prayers as th… Perfumes of incenſe to mount up in thy Preſence.
CHAP. IV. That Devotion is extremely rare, and neglected.
HERE is an Exception to the general Rule, that things rare are eſteemed: nothing in the World more rare than Devotion, and nothing more neglected. Herein men do not ſin through Ignorance; they know very well, what we have ſaid in the precedent Chapter, that without theſe devout diſpoſitions or Prayers they cannot pleaſe God. Nevertheleſs one cannot Expreſs the horrible negligence with which they perform this pious Duty as well as all others. People come to theſe exerciſes with a prodigious ſloath: 'tis viſible, that Cuſtom …rains us to 'em, when our inclinations carry us another …ay. 'Tis the fear of the ſcourge and the Batton which makes Slaves to go: for we go thither as to a …ask and a laborious work. What we do with regret, …s little we make it as poſſible: whereupon we rob …he World of one quarter of an hour in the day to beſtow upon God: after which we believe all is well e…ough, and that God may very well ſpare us the reſt. We go about this work, as if it were a burthen to us; we make haſte with it, that it may be ſoon over; and when we are arrived to a Period, it looks, as if a mighty Load were taken off of our ſhoulders. Judge then, if one can do well, what one does in this wiſe. We think not of what we are a going to do, nor of what we do. We ought to daunt and amaze our ſelves in conſidering the Majeſty, before whoſe eyes we go to appear; and we come thither in ſuch an heedleſs manner, as if we went to the meaneſt of Mankind. Are we got up the Mountain? our heart is ſtill in Sodom: We wander through the Univerſe, and ſtretch our uncertain Gaddings of thought even to the Imaginary Spaces: our imagination is fill'd with Croteſques and Fantoms. The moſt part roul their Prayers upon their Tongues in a Torrent of words, neither the Heart nor the Imagination having any thing to do there: And ſo ſmall an Impreſſion is made upon the heart, that nothing appears a moment afterwards. In going from the Exerciſes of Devotion, every one ought to examin himſelf, to know, whether his faith, his charity, his hope, have received conſiderable augmentations; but he thinks of nothing leſs: every one running whither Intereſt or pleaſure calls him, leaving his Conſcience without examination.
Queſtionleſs, the greateſt part, after their Prayers, may find their Conſcience in a worſe eſtate than before; ſo that this Examination being ſo far from producing Peace to 'em, would increaſe their Inquietu… If their Prayers be indevout, their other Exerci… are they leſs ſo? If in hearing the word of God th… lend ſome attention, 'tis not to the things themſelve… but to the manner wherein they are ſpoken. If th… Preacher has not the Talent and Knack of pleaſing, th… don't hear him, he does not Edifie, ſay they, he can't ke… one a wake: and after this a piece it is of good Conſeence to be able to ſleep at Sermon: Inſomuch as he ſpea… to Deaf People, and our Churches, from whence … have baniſht Images, ceaſe not to be Temples of Ido… which have Eyes and Ears, and yet neither fee ne… hear. The Preacher ſeems to have in his han… the head of Meduſa; when he appears, every thing … turned into Marble: and the word of God is a Char… that makes Stones of the Children of Abraham, inſtea… of making the Children of Abraham of Stones. … good part of thoſe that hear, do only retain wh… they judge may afford fit matter to their Cenſures an… their profane Ralleries. They paſs by an excelle… thing, and pick out a bad word: That is to ſay, in … field covered over with Riches they gather a Thorn o… a Flint, and let the Flowers and the Fruits alon… They that are leſs guilty, hear and would make a good uſe of what they underſtand; but their Will is very imperfect, and is not of a very long duration; ſince … ceaſes almoſt as ſoon as the Preacher ceaſes to ſpea… What Indevotion and what coldneſs have we not in the partaking of the Lords Supper; in which venerable Sacrament God gives us his fleſh to eat and his Blood to drink? our Piety is not now divided into a crowd of Worſhips and Services, as it was under the Law: all is reduced to a few Ceremonies, and for the Adult but one Sacrament. In ſuch a caſe therefore we ought to rendezvouz all our Devotion, and give to this one pledge of God's Love all the zeal and ardour, which the Iſraelites were obliged to have for thoſe many and different Ceremonies, the Law commanded. The Flame that is ſcattered, burns very little: the Sun-beams quartered into ſeveral places have ſmall effects; but being aſſembled and contracted in the center of a Burning-Glaſs, they kindle Wood and melt Metals. It would be the ſame if our Devotion did re-unite it ſelf in this Divine Object: it would conſume all our Vanities, and melt the Ice of our Souls. If we were devout in the participation of this holy Sacrament, our faith would pierce the Appearance and the deſpicable outſide to contemplate the Fleſh within of the Son of God, and all the Miracles of our Salvation. But we ſtick at the Bark; we come thither as to a common Repaſt; we bring with us our Indevotion, and carry away along with us for a wretched Companion our Damnation.
What we ſee in publick is a ſhrewd and an evident ſignification of what we do not ſee; and 'tis a difficult matter to judge charitably of the Devotions of the Cloſet, ſince we have ſo little reaſon to be content with thoſe in the Church; if People do ſomewhat for Glory, and for the Pleaſure of being approved, when they will releaſe themſelves of that Trouble, at their having no Witneſſes. Let none then accuſe us of violating the Rights of Retreat and Secrecy, if we ſay, that private Devotions are yet more drowfie and reſtleſs; as he who ſleeps at Sermon will hardly keep awake at reading a ſingle Chapter upon words abandoned of ſound and voice, which oppoſe themſelves to ſleep. Every one hath his Voice in this World, and every Condition has its Fauls; the Merchant is covetous, and oftentimes deceitful, for his Intereſt; the Courtier is ambitious; the Magiſtrate corruptible; the poor man impatient; the Rich haughty; but Indevotion is the Crime of all men in general. We will not ſay of All, if you pleaſe, but will confeſs, there are ſome good Souls, who groan to themſelve… expand their Hearts before God with much Zeal, an… make ſuch Sabbaths their Delights. But how few ar… theſe Examples! Perhaps it would be a hard buſine… to find ten ſuch righteous Perſons in Sodom: and ſince that Exceptions do not deſtroy general Rules, this will not hinder us from complaining of our Age, as of an Age of Iron, ſo cold, the like is not to be found in Geeen-land.
Meditation.
I Am not call'd to examine others: I ſee very well, that Devotion is a thing very ſcarce in the World. This ought infinitely to afflict me by reaſon of the part I take in the Intereſts of my God. This ought to make me afraid, leſt the World ſhould become a Sodom, and be made like unto Gomorrah, and leſt God ſhould tumble down upon it the Effects of his Vengeance, and his Deluges of Fire and Brimſtone. But loe a thing that touches me much nearer: 'tis the ſeldomneſs of devout motions in my Heart. This unhappy Heart of mine is made, I think, of Marble and Ice. How is't poſſible it ſhould continue inſenſible amidſt ſo many Objects which are capable to move it? How can it be ungrateful when it is invironed with ſo many Favours from Heaven? How is it poſſible it ſhould not tremble before him, whoſe Preſence makes the Angels to tremble? Why does not my Soul, that is changed and deſtitute of all Good, run with ardour to a Source ſo pure and ſo refreſhing? One Tear I cannot draw from my Eyes, nor one Sigh from my Heart. Every day I preſent my ſelf before my God with dry Eyes, with an humble Body, but with a proud Soul, and frequently with ſo great an Air of Negligence, that the Tone of my Voice, the Poſture of my Members, and generally all that is ſeen and heard in me, ſpeaks my Indevotion. When have I inſulted over my own Heart? how often have I ſaid to my ſelf, thou wicked Soul, why doſt thou not quake and ſhiver within me? why doſt thou not fear him, whom none can fear enough? and why doſt thou not love him infinitely, who has infinitely loved thee? If thou lov'dſt and fear'dſt this God as thou oughteſt, this God ſoveraignly adorable, whom the Angels love and fear, thou cou'dſt not be cold in his Service, nor adore him in ſo languiſhing a manner.
Prayer.
ALas, my God! thou ſeeſt how I groan under the burthen of my Corruption an… of my Indevotion. Help me then to rid my ſelf of 'em, ſo that thoſe motions of Piety and Zea… which thou loveſt ſo much, may henceforth be as frequent in my Soul as they have been rareby till this preſe… that the movements of my Devotion may not reſemble thoſe Sparks, which flye up from a great company of Embers, and then grow cold and are extinguiſhed; but be of thoſe pure ſlames, which burn perpetually, even in the midſt of Water, and reſiſt the Storm… and Tempeſts of Temptation, Corruption, and bad Examples. And that being far from ſuffering my ſelf to be carried away by the Torrent of Corruption and Indevotion, which obtains even in the Sanctuary, I may cauſe my Righteouſneſs to ſhine like a Candle in the midſt of Darkneſs.
CHAP. V. That Indevotion is a far greater crime than it is commonly thought.
TOuching the indevotion of the Profane, I do no ſpeak, but of thoſe that would be called th…t children of God. I ſpeak of all thoſe neglects and coldneſſes, of all thoſe diſtractions, and vain and carnal thoughts, which traverſe the excerciſes of Piety. The principal reaſon of the commonneſs of this crime is, the opinion which people have, that it is a very ſmall fault. There is nothing which they do not ſay and imagine to flatter themſelves in this Vice. One ſays 'tis the nature of the Soul to be active and boyling; we cannot fix it upon one only object; it takes fire and evaporates, even when we believe we can holdit: It is, ſay they, a Malady of the Soul, of which it ſelf is not culpable. Ah! certainly, if it were an evil intirely unvoluntary, it would very well deſerve we ſhould deplore the miſery of the Soul. 'Tis a ſign of a ſtrange Irregularity, and a proof that Sin is cauſed within by great diſorders. If you ſee a man in the midſt of a diſcourſe of good ſenſe wander all on a ſudden and ſpeak a thouſand impertinences and extravagant things, will not you ſay, he has a Deſultory wit, and an ill-biaſs'd Spirit? Is it not a proof of a great Diſorder in the heart, to perceive ones ſelf in the midſt of ones devout thoughts to evaporate, to go and take a leap from ones ſelf and the Subject, to fall into a thouſand Chimerical imaginations? But further, I ſay, there is as much of a crime as of miſery in this Evil. It's ſufficient to know that Sin is the cauſe of this diſorder, to be aſſured there is ſin in it. The Product of a criminal cauſe cannot be Innocent: and I fancy that the inferiour part of the Soul being corrupted by Sin is like to marriſh and fenny places, from whence Vapours are continually elevated to Heaven, which oftentimes obſcures the Sun. Our paſſions, 'tis true, do raiſe up the Clouds of vain and evil thoughts, that rob our hearts of the Suns ſight: but what of this? does it not follow, that this is not a great evil? do not all crimes come from this Source, and are they therefore the leſs to be condemned?
We imagine that the mind of man cannot be fixt, which is falſe, and a thouſand Experiments can ſhew us the contrary. Were you to appear before a great Prince to defend your Life, you would think ſo eagerly and earneſtly upon the buſineſs, that no other thing would be allowed admittance into the thoughts: in ſpeaking to him you wou'd not ſuffer the leaſt Diſtraction. The Niggard that counts his Treaſures, does not hear when any one comes to knock at the Door of his Cabinet. A man that is upon an important Affair, and gives up his mind to it, never finds theſe wandrings of Imagination. It's true then, that it is poſſible to hinder this Levity of mind, whereof we complain, as of an incurable evil. Thus in the vice of Indevotion there's a ſort of Pride of being unwilling to humble our ſelves worthily before God, in whoſe preſence all Nature trembles. I would fain know, whether a King would take it well, that in doing him Reverence one ſhould turn his back upon him, or that one ſhould do him Homage with an air of diſdain: and this is what we do to God. We give him not the very Moity of our heart. To ſlight and deſpiſe him, whom the Angels adore, can it be call'd a Peccadillo? The Lord reigneth, let the Earth be moved, are very rare words in our mouth. And ſeeing that God does not immediately avenge himſelf on the great contemners of his Majeſty, without fear we take up an habit of defying him. Unqueſtionably if there were nothing elſe in Indevotion beſides the crime of Diſobedience, 'twould be enough to render us worthy of all the moſt ſevere puniſhments. We know mighty well that God commands us Ardour and Zeal: and we cannot be ignorant, how he calls us to take the Kingdom of Heaven by Violence. We hear it ſaid every day, that he caſts up the Luke-warm out of his mouth. We read every where, that the way of the Faithful ought to be in a ſwift Courſe, and not a ſlow walk. And in ſhort, we know very well, that he would have us be eaten up with the Zeal of his Houſe. Maugre all theſe Commands and Orders, ſtill cold we are and languiſhing. Who then ſhall be obey'd if God be not? He who maketh his Angels Spirits and his Miniſters a flaming fire: he who hath ſo many means to revenge himſelf upon Rebels, and to reward the Obedient: he laſtly, whoſe commands are ever juſt and ever holy.
Let no one tell me then, that this is a light fault, ſince 'tis a moſt aſſured proof that we love not God. 'Tis not ſo, when we ſearch after the things of the World. Seek for Wiſdom, ſays the Wiſe-man, as Silver, and ſearch for her as for hid Treaſures. Ah! would to God we could make ſuch an exchange of Sentiments, as tó give to the World thoſe thoughts which we have for heavenly things, and to render to heavenly things what we have for the World. Is not this a crime which cannot be aggravated, to refuſe God the Ardour, the Attention, the fond affections we have for the Earth; a crime which deprives us of God, is not at all trivial? A Sin that robs us of the Divine Conſolations is not to be neglected. 'Tis for this crime we taſt ſo few Delights in our Devotions, becauſe God will not let himſelf be found but by thoſe that ſeek him, and beſtows not thoſe Divine Conſolations but upon ſuch Souls as are a living thirſt after them, as the Hart is a thirſt after the running Waters.
But ſuppoſing with theſe flattering conſciences, that the Diſtractions and Litherneſſes of Devotion are Sins of Infirmity, and by conſequence, leſs ſeverely puniſht, what ſhall we ſay of a great number of them, and of frequent Relapſes? will this be taken for nothing too? If thou ſlighteſt thy ſins becauſe they are little ones, fear them rather by reaſon they are in a great number, ſaith St. Auguſtin. If they ſhould appear light in the Balance of the Sanctuary, the very reckoning will deſtroy us; ſince, in a word, we return to 'em every day. Than grains of Sand nothing is more ſmall; but yet if we heap them together, we may in time make up a Mountain. We advance ſtep after ſtep towards Hell; and of what importance is it, what brings us thither, whether a great Sin or many ſmall ones? we are ſtill Damn'd ne'rtheleſs. The Egyptians that were oftentimes troubled with Frogs and Flies, would not be reduced till the uttermoſt extremity: Wherefore let us not call thoſe ſmall Sins, which find a place in Hell, if they be not expiated by Repentance: but let us rather ſay with a Doctor of the eleventh Century, Peradventure thou wilt believe ſome of thy Sins very puny and ſmall: would to God, that our ſevere Judge would or could judge them ſuch. But alas, does not all Sins diſhonour God thorough Diſobedience? how then can the Sinner call thoſe ſmall that offend ſo great a God? O dry and ſapleſs Tree, unprofitable, and worthy of eternal flames, what wilt thou be able to anſwer at that day when thou ſhalt render an account in the twinkling of an eye, when thou ſhall put every moment of thy life into the Ballance, and when it ſhall be demanded of thee, in what thou haſt ſpent thy time? then ſhall a proceſs be made of all that can be found in thee, not only of thy words but of thy very ſilence. Thy leaſt thoughts will be examined: even thy life will be a part of thy crimes, if thou haſt not liv'd for thy God. Oh! how many Sins will ſtart then out of ſome Place, where thou hadſt never ſeen them before? they will ſeize upon thee as by Ambuſcado. They will appear to thee more terrible and in a greater number. The Works which thou didſt believe not to be evil, nay, which thou conſidereſt as good, ſhall be look'd upon by all as ghaſtly and black Sins. This difference, ſaith St. Baſil, of great and little Sins, is not to be found in the New Teſtament: one only ſentence is pronounced againſt all: he that does ſin is the Servant of Sin. And if we give our ſelves the liberty to diſtinguiſh and diſcriminate Sins into Mortal and Venial, or great, or little, it ought to be in this Senſe, that we call all Sins great whereby we are overcome, and all Sins little, which we are armed to that paſs as to vanquiſh: As among Swordmen, the conquered is ever eſteemed the more Feeble, and the Conquerour the ſtouter. How happy then is that man, that ſtrikes a terrour into himſelf, and is delivered from this dangerous Prejudice, that Indevotion is a light and a pardonable crime.
Meditation.
ALas! this is an Illuſion, againſt which I have great need to defend my Heart. What a bending and an inclination have I to flatter my ſelf in my Sins, and to believe them light! Wretched Soul, thou perceiveſt not thy Diſeaſe: thou believeſt thy ſelf in a good conſtitution of Health, and it may be thou art going down to the Chambers of Death. 'Tis a dangerous Malady This, to fancy I am in health and not to be ſo. O my Heart! open thine Eyes, and ſee the Dangers whereinto thou doſt continually caſt me. To day my Sins appear very ſmall, but one day they will appear to me very great. Let me not wait and delay any longer to acknowledge the greatneſs, and feel the weight of them; ſo that from this preſent I may have 'em in deteſtation, and may repent of them in Sack-cloath and Aſhes. At ſuch a time my repentance wou'd be too late: I ſhould know the miſchief, but could find no more remedy. I drink Sin, as a Fiſh drinks Water: I do not think it affrightful, becauſe I am ſo accuſtomed to its ſight, and I fancy my Sins ſmall, for that I compare them to the greateſt, and above all, I count my Dulneſs and my Indevotion for nothing, ſeeing I perſuade my ſelf, that the name of God cannot be offended but by Impieties and Blaſphemies.
Prayer.
THIS comes from thence, O my God, that I do not conceive thee ſo Great as really thou art: and I do not conceive thee ſo great as thou art, becauſe I do not ſee thee. I tremble at the preſence of a Man ſet upon a Tribunal, the Scepter in his hand, the Crown on his head, invironed with a Royal pomp; I fear him becauſe I ſee him: thoſe Objects that ſtrike my Eyes, aſtoniſh my Soul. I know that thou ſitteſt between the Cherubims; that the Angels cover their face before thee, unable to ſuſtain the brightneſs of thy Majeſty. I know, that torrents of fire roul about thy Throne to conſume thy Enemies. I know, there is nothing of either Angelic or humane ſight, that can withſtand the ſplendour of thy looks, nor the Fire of thine Eyes: but I believe all theſe wonders, tho I ſee them not, and therefore 'tis they make the leſs impreſſion upon my heart. Senſible I am not, but of preſent things. My eyes are more toucht during the darkneſs of the Night, with the weak light of a glittering Glow-worm, than my Imaginationis moved with all the light of the Sun, when it is abſent, and fills the other part of the World with heat and brightneſs. Take therefore away, O my God, take away the Veil; make me to view thy Majeſty: redouble the force of the eyes of my Soul: fill my Imaginations with Idaeas of thy greatneſs, and of thy Divine Glory; that I may return more and more from perſuading my ſelf of the ſmallneſs of my fault, when I preſent my ſelf before thee with little reverence.