CHAP. V.
THE necessity of divine grace, obligeth all Christians to a constant purity and holiness of conversation; wherein is shewn the great danger and impiety of reading vain and impertinent books.
I. I have shewn that the necessity of divine grace is a mighty argument for an universal exactness of life and conversation. I come now to speak farther to that remarkable branch of it: Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace to the hearers; and grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed to the day of redemption. Now if we are to let no corrupt communication proceed out of our mouth, that we may not grieve the holy Spirit of God; it follows that we are to deny ourselves the entertainment of corrupt, impertinent, and unedifying books. For if vain and idle words are not to proceed out of our mouths, we must be under the same necessity of not letting them come into our hearts.
II. If we would know what books are to be avoided as corrupt and grieving the Holy Spirit, we must look back to the rule of our communication; for as that communication is there said to be corrupt that does not edify and minister grace to the hearers; so must we look upon all those books as corrupt, which do not edify and minister grace to the readers. Now this book-entertainment is as certainly forbidden by the apostle, as cheating is forbidden by the eighth commandment: for if I am not to say foolish and impertinent things myself, because such a communication grieves the Holy Spirit of God; I am as certainly forbid the reading the corrupt and impertinent sayings of other people.
The books which mostly corrupt our hearts, and fill us with a spirit of folly, are such as almost all the world allow themselves to read; I mean books of wit and humour, romances, plays, and other productions of the poets. Thus a grave orthodox old gentleman, if he hears that his niece is very good, and delights in reading, will fill her closet with volumes of plays and poems on several occasions, on purpose to encourage her to spend her time well. There is not perhaps a more surprising infatuation in the conduct of Christians, than this.
III. There is a proper time for every thing that is lawful to be done: now, can you tell when it is proper for a Christian to meditate upon these books?
There is a time when our hearts are more than ordinarily raised towards God; when we feel the joys and comforts of religion, and enjoy a peace that passes all understanding. Now I suppose reason will not allot this time for the diversion of such books.
There is a time, when either thro’ the neglect of duty, remorse of mind, worldly vexations, bodily tempers, or the absence of God’s Spirit, we sink into dejection and dulness, grow burthensome to ourselves, and can hardly think of any thing with satisfaction. Now if reason is to judge, this is of all times the most improper for such entertainment. For if there is any time more proper than another to think upon God, ’tis when we are in heaviness.
When we are sick it is time to fly to the physician; when we are weary, it is a proper time to rest: now there is the same fitness in having recourse to God and religion, when we are under any dejection of mind. For it is not more the sole property of light to dispel darkness, than it is the sole property of religion to relieve all uneasiness. Is any one afflicted, says the apostle, let him pray. Now this we are to look upon, not only as a wise advice of something that is very good to be done; but as a strict command that leaves no choice of doing any thing in the stead of it.
It is as absolute a command as if he had said, Hath any one sinned, let him repent. For an application to God is as much the one thing to be done in the hour of trouble, as repentance is the one thing to be done in time of sin.
IV. You seem to make times of dulness the occasion of reading those books, by saying that you only read them to divert your spirits. But that which you take to be a reason for reading them, is a strong objection against it. For it is never so improper to read those books, as when you want to have your spirits raised, or your mind made easy to itself. For it is the highest abuse you can put upon yourself, to look for ease and quiet in any thing, but in right apprehensions of God’s providence. And it is a sin against the whole nature of religion, not to make it the whole measure and reason of all your peace and enjoyment in every occurrence of life.
If you must amuse yourself with a volume of plays, because you are laid up with a broken leg, or have lost a friend, you are as far from wisdom as a child that is to be made quiet with a rattle, and as far from religion as those who worship idols; nay, to seek to such things for relief and refreshment, is like applying to the devil in distress. A man that drinks drams every time he is dull or uneasy, is a wise, prudent, and sober man, if compared to the Christian that in seasons of dejection has recourse to wanton wit, and prophane rant: he destroys the purity of his mind much more effectually, than the other destroys the health of his body.
Do you think that in great distresses, it is proper to seek comfort in God; but that in little troubles, any thing that can divert is as well? Nay, surely if God is our sufficient comfort in great distresses, he must be our best relief in those that are smaller. Unless it can be said, that the truths of religion are able to make us bear martyrdom with content, but not great enough to make us easy in little trials.
V. Besides, to seek for relief in foolish books, is not only applying to a false remedy, but is also destroying the chief power of religion. For as religion has no power over us but as it is our happiness; so far as we neglect, or refuse to make use of its comforts, so far we destroy its power over us. For it can no otherwise be the ordinary care of our lives, than by being our ordinary happiness and consolation in all the changes of life. A Christian therefore is to make his Christianity his comfort, not only in times of great trial and sufferings, but in all the lesser vexations of life, that by this means every little occasion of grief or disquiet may be an occasion of his being more affected with religion, and more sensible of its true comforts.
VI. On the contrary, if men will make themselves happy as children are made happy, not by considering the nature of things, but by a change of amusements, they must also expect to have the vexations of children, and be, like them, laughing and crying at they know not what, all the days of their life: for children are only easily vexed because they are easily pleased; and it is certain that they who can be pleased with things of no value must in the same degree be liable to be displeased at them. And as this is the true state of childhood: so whosoever is in this state, whatever his age may be, his office, or his dignity in life, is yet as truly in the state and folly of childhood, as he that is but four years old. Take an instance or two: a child whose heart is half broken at some misfortune, may perhaps be made easy with a picture of a huntsman and a pack of hounds; but if you would comfort the father that grieves for his eldest son, the hounds must all be alive; they must cry, and run, and follow a hare; and this will make the father as easy as the picture did the child.
A mother comforts her little girl with a pack of cards that are finely painted: by and by she wants to be comforted herself: some great calamity has happened to her. Now you must not think to comfort her with painted cards, or building houses with them; her grief is too great, and she has been too long a mother to be pleased with such things. It is only serious ombre that can dry her eyes, and remove sorrow from her heart.
VII. I might easily multiply instances of this kind; but these are sufficient to shew us, that persons of age and authority often differ only from children, as one child may differ from another. This is the true reason why human life is so full of complaint; why it is such a mixture of ridiculous pleasures, and vain disquiets, namely, because we live in an entire ignorance of the nature of things, never considering why we are pleased with this, or displeased with that, nor any more appeal to religion to direct our judgments, than children appeal to reason to form their tempers. For if we will only play, or lull ourselves into repose, as children are rocked to sleep, it is not to be wondered at, if like them we cry as soon as we are awake: and the reason why people, seemingly religious, are subject to the same dulness and peevishness, to the same vexations and variety of griefs that other people are, is this, because they make no more use of their religion on those occasions, than other people: they don’t so much as intend to keep themselves easy, thankful and chearful, by making religion the measure and standard of all their thoughts and judgments, in all the common chances of life, any more than those do, who have no thoughts about religion.
VIII. Suppose a person had lame feet, and bad eyes, and that he had an oil, that was an infallible cure for them both, when applied to both; if you saw him only using it for his eyes, you would not wonder that it had not cured his feet; you would know that his anointing his eyes could only cure his eyes; and that there was no ground to expect that his feet should be any better, till he anointed his feet: and all this for this plain reason, because things, however good in themselves, can have no farther effect than as they are applied. Now it is just thus in religion. If a man places it only in public worship, he attends public worship; it operates so far. But why must you wonder, that he is not of a wise, virtuous, and religious temper, in all the actions of his ordinary life? Is not this wondering why the oil has not cured a man’s feet, when he has never applied it to them, but only to his eyes?
IX. *When the regular churchman as plainly makes religion the measure of his ordinary life, as he makes it the rule of his going to church; when he as directly uses it to this purpose, as a man anoints his eyes, who would be cured by anointing them; then you will see him as different in his ordinary life from other people, as different in his pleasures and griefs, in his cares and concerns, as he is different from them in forms and regularity of worship. But till men do this; till they apply the principles of religion to all the actions of ordinary life; till they make it the measure of all their daily tempers, their joys and fears; till they think there is as much piety in being wise and holy in their common tempers, as in being devout at church; as much sin in being vainly pleased and foolishly vexed, as in neglecting the divine service; till they thus directly apply religion to common life, as a man applies a remedy to the part he would have cured; it is no more to be expected that it should make them religious in common life, than that an oil applied to our eyes should cure our feet.
It is our ordinary life, which we think is thus left to ourselves, that makes religion so insignificant in the world: it lies by like a remedy that is unapplied; it has no effect because it is used only as a formal thing that has its duties at set times and occasions: whereas it should be used and considered as the rule and reason of all our judgments and actions; as the measure of all our cares and pleasures; as the life of our life, the spirit of our spirit, and the very form and essence of all our tempers. It is to be in us, like a new reason and judgment of our minds; that is to reason and judge of every thing we do, and to preside over and govern all the motions of our hearts. Is any one merry, saith the apostle, let him sing psalms: Is any afflicted, let him pray. This is religion in the apostle’s account; it is not only an attendance at the public worship, but it is the ruling habit of our minds; something that devotes us wholly to God, that allows of no mirth in our common life, but a mirth proper for the brethren of Christ, a mirth that can express itself in praise and thanksgiving, that allows of no other cure for grief or vexation than what is to be had from recourse to God. And indeed what can be more absurd, than for a Christian ever to act in any other consideration than as a Christian? He is senseless to a degree of madness when he indulges a thought, or a motion of his heart; when he either takes a pleasure, or relieves a grief; where he cannot say I do this as a Christian, as suitable to that state in which Christianity has placed me.
X. *We reckon a man sufficiently mad that fancies himself a king, and governing his subjects, at the same time that he is tied on a bed of straw: now a Christian repeats every day, I believe the forgiveness of sin, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting; he thanks God for the redemption of Jesus Christ, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory. Yet at the same time, in this state of greatness, he fancies himself in a thousand wants and miseries: he cries and labours, and toils for a happiness, that has no existence but in his own imagination; he fancies himself a being that is to be made happy with sauces and ragous, with painted cloaths and shining diamonds, he is grieved and fretted like a child at the loss of a feather; and must be diverted, as they are, with shows and plays, and imaginary scenes of rant and nonsense. Now is not such a one mad? Does he not know as little of his state, as the man in straw who fancies himself a king? But for a Christian, in times of dulness or vexation, to seek relief in foolish amusements, in the loose, wild discourses of plays, when he should acquaint himself with God, and be at peace, is a degree of madness that exceeds all others; it is acting as contrary to the nature of things, as if a man that had lost the use of his limbs, should chuse to comfort his lameness with painted shoes, when he might have the use of his feet restored. For the consolations of religion relieve uneasiness and trouble, as a lame man is relieved when his limbs are restored; they conquer grief, not by cheating and deluding the weakness of our minds, but as the resurrection conquers death, by restoring us to a new and glorious life.
XI. From these reflections I hope it sufficiently appears, that the reading vain and impertinent books is no matter of indifferency; but that it is justly to be reckoned amongst our greatest corruptions; that it is as unlawful as malice and evil speaking; and is no more to be allowed in any part of our life.
Reading, when it is an exercise of the mind, upon wise and pious subjects, is, next to prayer, the best improvement of our hearts; it enlightens our minds, collects our thoughts, calms and allays our passions, and begets in us wise and pious resolutions; it is a labour that does so much good to our minds, that it ought never to be employed amiss; it enters so far into our souls that it cannot have a little effect upon us. Reading and meditation is that to our souls, which food and nourishment is to our bodies; so that we cannot do ourselves either a little good, or little harm, by the books that we read.
XII. But perhaps you think it is a dull task to read only religious and moral books: but when God is your happiness; when you are not afraid of the joys of eternity, you will think it a dull task to read any other books. Don’t fancy therefore that your heart is right, tho’ you had rather read books upon other subjects; for it is there that you are to charge your dullness: religion has no hold of you; the things of eternity are not the concerns of your mind; it is dull and tiresome to you to be wise and pious; and that makes it a dull task to read only books that treat upon such subjects. When it is the care of your soul to be humble, holy, pious, and heavenly minded; when you know any thing of the guilt and misery of sin, or feel a real desire of salvation, you will find religious books to be the greatest feast and joy of your mind.
XIII. You perhaps will say that you have so much spare time for reading, that you think you need not employ it at all in reading good books. It may be so; you may have also more time than you need devote to offices of charity; but will you thence conclude, that you may then do things contrary to charity, and indulge yourself in spight and mischief?
*If you have every day more time than you can employ in reading, meditation and prayer; if this time hangs upon your hands, and cannot be turned to any advantage; let me desire you to go to sleep or pick straws; for it is much better to do this, than to have recourse to corrupt and impertinent books. Time lost in sleep, or in picking straws, is better lost than in such exercises of the mind. Consider farther, that idle and spare time calls for the greatest care and watchfulness; so that to have recourse then to evil and impertinent books, is like inviting the devil because you are alone. If you could read ill books when you are in haste, or in a hurry of other matters, it would do you much less harm than to read them because your time hangs upon your hands. That very season which you take to be an excuse for such reading, is the strongest argument against it, because evil thoughts and vain subjects have twice the effect, and make double impressions when they are admitted at times of leisure and idleness.
XIV. Consider again to what a miserable state you are reduced, when you are forced to have recourse to foolish books to get rid of your time. Your fortune perhaps has removed you from the necessity of labouring for your bread; you have been politely educated in softness; you have no trade or employment to take up your time; and so are left to be devoured by corrupt passions and pleasures. Whilst poor people are at hard labour; whilst your servants are drudging in the meanest offices of life; you, oppressed with idleness and indulgence, are relieving yourself with foolish and impertinent books; feeding and delighting a disordered mind with romantic nonsense, and poetic follies. If this be the effect of riches and fortune, only to expose people to the power of disordered passions, and give them time to corrupt their hearts with madness and folly, well might our Lord say, Woe unto you that are rich!
*When you see a poor creature drudging in the meanest offices of life, and glad of the dirtiest work to get his bread, you are apt to look upon him as a miserable wretch; it raises a mixture of pity and contempt in you; but remember, that every time you see such a person, you see a more reasonable creature than yourself, and one that is much more nobly employed than you are. He is acting conformably to the state of human life, and bearing a hard part with patience; he is doing a work which, mean as it is, will be looked upon as done unto the Lord; whilst you, idling in softness and pleasures, are unable to bear your time, unless it be stolen away from you by folly and impertinence. Fancy that you saw a patient Christian, old, broken and crooked, with carrying burthens all his life; fancy that you saw another Christian lolling in state and softness, and making every day a day of vanity and foolish reading; which of them do you think is most likely to die in the hands of good angels, and be carried into Abraham’s bosom?
XV. *But, after all, what a vain imagination is it to think that you have any such thing as spare time? Is there any time for which you are not accountable to God? Is there any time which God has so left to your own disposal that you may sacrifice it to the indulgence of vain tempers, and the corruption of your heart? You can no more shew this than you can shew, that all your time is your own. To talk, therefore of spare time, is to talk of something that never did nor ever will belong to any Christian. You may have a spare time from this or that labour, or necessity, you may abate or change any particular exercise, you may take this or that refreshment; you have all these spare times from particular actions, but you have no spare time that releases you from the laws of Christianity, or that leaves you at liberty not to act by the principles of religion and piety.
*You have spare time to refresh yourself: but this is to be governed by the same wisdom, as the time that is spent in cares and labours. For your recreations and pleasures are only lawful as far as they are directed by the same wisdom with your cares and labours. If therefore the providence of God has placed you above the necessity of labouring for your livelihood, you must not think that you have so much spare time to spend, as you please, but that you are certainly called to some other labour. Great part of the world is doomed to toil and slavery; they have it not in their power to chuse any other way of life, and their labour is therefore an acceptable service to God, because it is such as their state requires. Happy are you therefore, if you knew your happiness, who have it in your power to be always doing the best things; who, free from labour and hardships, are at liberty to chuse the best ways of life, to study all the arts of self-improvement, to practise all the ways of doing good, and to spend your time in all the noblest instances of piety, humility, charity and devotion! Bless God then, not because you have spare time, for that you have none, but that you have time to employ in the best ways that you can find; that whilst others are oppressed with burdens, and worn out with slavery, you have time to think upon the greatest and best of things; to enlighten your mind, to correct the disorder of your heart, to study the laws of God, to contemplate the wonders of his providence, to convince yourself of the vanity of the world, and to delight your soul with the great and glorious things which God has prepared for those that love him. This is the happiness of being free from labour and want, not to have spare time to squander away in vanity and impertinence, but to have spare time to spend in the study of wisdom, in the exercise of devotion, in the practice of piety, in all the ways and means of doing good and exalting our souls to a state of Christian perfection.
XVI. *It is a doctrine of scripture, and highly agreeable to reason, That unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required. Consider therefore that a life of leisure and freedom from want and hardships is as much as can well be given you in this world, as it is giving you an opportunity of living wholly to God, and making all the parts of your life useful to the best purposes. As sure therefore as it is a state, that has so many advantages that furnishes you with so many means of being eminent in piety, so sure it is, that it is a state from which God expects fruits that are worthy of it. Had it been your lot to labour in a mine, or serve under some cruel master, you must have served as unto God; and in so doing you had finished the work which God had given you. But as you are free from all this, you must look upon yourself as God’s servant, as called to chuse that way of labouring and spending your time, which may most promote that which God desires to be promoted. God has given you liberty to chuse, but it is only that you may have the blessedness of chusing the best ways of spending your time. Though therefore you are at liberty from servile and mean labour, yet you are under a necessity of labouring in all good works, and making all your time, and fortune, and abilities serviceable to the best ends of life. You have no more time that is your own, than he has that is to live by constant labour; the only difference betwixt you and him is this, that he is to be diligent in a poor, slavish labour, that oppresses the body, and dejects the mind; but you in a service that is perfect freedom, that renders your body a fit temple for the Holy Ghost, and fills your soul with such light, and peace, and joy, as is not to be found in any other way of life.
XVII. Do you think that a poor slave would displease God by refusing to act in that painful drudgery that is fallen to his share? And do you think that God will not be more displeased with you, if you refuse to act your full part in the best of labours, or neglect that happy business of doing good, which your state of life has called you to? ♦Is it expected that poor people should make a right use of their condition, and turn all their labour into a service unto God? And do you think you are not obliged to make a proper improvement of your condition, and turn all your rest, and ease, and freedom from labour, into service unto God? Tell me therefore no more that you indulge yourself in idle amusements, in vain, corrupt, and unedifying books, because you have spare time? For it is absolutely false to say that you have any such thing; it is saying, that because God has given you spare time from servile labour, time for all the instances of a holy and heavenly life; therefore you presume to throw it away in idleness and impertinence.
♦ ‘It is’ replaced with ‘Is it’
The End of the Fourth Volume.