PART II.
The first Dialogue between Academicus, Rusticus and Theophilus. At which Humanus was present.
Theophilus.ACADEMICUS, your education has so accustomed you to the pleasure of reading variety of books, that you hardly propose any other end in reading, than the entertainment of your mind: thus the spirit of prayer has only awakened in you a desire to see another part upon the same subject. This fault is very common to others, as well as scholars, and even to those who delight in reading good books.
Philo for these twenty years has been collecting and reading all the spiritual books he can hear of. He reads them, as the critics read commentators and lexicons; to be nice and exact in telling you the stile, spirit, and intent of this or that spiritual writer; how one is more accurate in this, and the other in that. Philo will ride you forty miles in winter to have a conversation about spiritual books, or to see a collection larger than his own. Philo is amazed at the deadness and insensibility of the Christian world, that they are such strangers to the spiritual nature of the Christian salvation; he wonders how they can be so zealous for the outward letter and form of ordinances, and so averse to that spiritual life, that they all point at, as the one thing needful. But Philo never thinks how wonderful it is, that a man who knows regeneration to be the whole, should yet content himself with the love of books upon the new birth, instead of being born again himself. For all that is changed in Philo, is his taste for books. He is no more dead to the world, no more delivered from himself, is as fearful of adversity, as fond of prosperity, as easily provoked and pleased with trifles, as much governed by his own will, tempers and passions, as unwilling to deny his appetites, or enter into war with himself, as he was twenty years ago. Yet all is well with Philo; he has no suspicion of himself; he dates the newness of his life from the time that he discovered the pearl of eternity in spiritual authors.
All this, Academicus, is said on your account, that you may not lose the benefit of this spark of the divine life that is kindled in your soul.
It demands at present an eagerness of another kind, than that of much reading, even upon the most spiritual matters.
Academicus. I thank you, Theophilus; but did not imagine my eagerness after such books to be so dangerous a mistake.
Theophilus. I have said nothing, my friend, with a design of hindering your acquaintance with all the truly spiritual writers. I would rather in a right way help you to a true intimacy with them: for he that converses rightly with them has an happiness, that can hardly be overvalued.
My intention is only to abate, for a time, a spirit of eagerness after much reading, which in your state rather gratifies curiosity, than reforms the heart.
Suppose you had seen an angel from heaven, who had discovered to you a glimpse of that glorious union in which it lived with God. Suppose it had told you that your own soul was capable of all this, but that your flesh and blood would not suffer it to be imparted to you. Suppose it had told you, that all your life had been spent in helping this flesh and blood to more and more power over you, to hinder you from knowing and feeling the divine life within you. Suppose it had told you, that to this day, you had lived in the grossest self-idolatry, loving, serving, honouring, and adoring yourself instead of loving, serving, and adoring God: that all your intentions, projects, cares, pleasures, and indulgences, had been only so much labour to bring you to the grave in a total ignorance of that great work, for which alone you was born into the world.
Suppose it had told you, that all this insensibility of your state, was wilfully brought upon yourself, because you had boldly resisted all the inward and outward calls of God, all the teachings, doings, and sufferings of the Son of God. *Suppose it left you with this farewell, O man, awake; thy work is great, thy time is short, I am thy last trumpet; the grave calls for thy flesh and blood, thy soul must enter into a new lodging. To be born again, is to be an angel: not to be born again, is to become a devil.
Tell me now, Academicus, what would you expect from a man who had been thus awakened, and pierced by the voice of an angel? Could you think he had any sense left, if he was not cast into the deepest depth of self-dejection, and self-abhorrence? Casting himself with a broken heart, at the feet of the divine mercy, desiring nothing but that, from that time, every moment of his life might be given unto God, in the most perfect denial of every temper and inclination that nourished the corruption of his nature: wishing and praying from the bottom of his heart, that God would lead him into and thro’ every thing inwardly and outwardly, that might destroy the evil workings of his nature, and awaken all that was holy and heavenly within him.
Or would you think he was enough affected with this angelic visit, if all that it had awakened in him, was only a longing desire to hear the same, or another angel talk again?
Academicus. Oh Theophilus, you have said enough: for all that is within me consents to the truth of what you have said. I now feel in the strongest manner, that I have been rather amused, than edified, by what I have read.
Theophilus. A spiritual book, Academicus, is a call to as real and total a death to the life of corrupt nature, as that which Adam died in paradise, was to the loss of heaven. All our redemption consists in our regaining that first life of heaven, to which Adam died in paradise: and the one work of redemption, is the one work of raising up a life and spirit, contrary to that we derive from our fallen parents. To think therefore of any thing, but the continual, total denial of our earthly nature, is to overlook the one thing on which all depends. And to hope for any thing, to trust or pray for any thing, but the life of God, in our souls, is as useless to us, as placing our hope and trust in a graven image.
Now is your time, Academicus, to enter deeply into this great truth. You are just come out of the slumber of life, and begin to see the nature of your salvation. You are charmed with the discovery of a kingdom of heaven within you, and long to be entertained more and more with the nature, progress, and perfection of this kingdom in your soul.
But, my friend, stop a little. It is indeed great joy that the pearl of great price is found; but take notice, it is not your’s till, as the merchant did, you sell all that you have, and buy it. Think of a lower price, or be unwilling to give thus much for it; plead in your excuse, that you keep the commandments, and then you are that very rich young man in the gospel, who went away sorrowful from our Lord, when he had said, If thou wilt be perfect, that is, if thou wilt obtain the pearl, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor; that is, die to thyself and then thou hast given all that thou hast to the poor, all is devoted and used for the love of God and thy neighbour. The apostate nature corrupts every thing it touches; it defiles every thing it receives; it turns all the gifts and blessings of God into coveteousness, partiality, pride, hatred and envy.
*Hence it is that sin rides in triumph over church and state, and from the court to the cottage all is over-run with sensuality, guile, falseness, pride, wrath, selfishness, and every form of corruption. Every one swims away in this torrent, but he who hears and attends to the voice of the Son of God, calling him to die to this life, to take up his cross and follow him. Much learned pains has been often taken to prove Rome, or Constantinople, to be the seat of the beast, the antichrist, the scarlet whore. But, alas! they are not at such a distance from us, they are the properties of fallen human nature, and are all of them alive in our ownselves, till we are dead to all the spirit and tempers of this world. They are every where, in every soul, where the heavenly nature, and the Spirit of the holy Jesus is not. But when the human soul turns from itself, and turns to God, dies to itself, and lives to God in the Spirit, tempers, and inclinations of the holy Jesus, loving, pitying, suffering, and praying for all its enemies, and overcoming all evil with good, as Christ did; then, but not till then, are these monsters separate from it.
This, Academicus, is the fallen human nature, which is alive in every one, though in various manners, till he is born again. To think therefore of any religion, or to pretend to real holiness without dying to this old man, is building castles in the air; and can bring forth nothing, but Satan in the form of an angel of light. Would you know, Academicus, whence it is, that so many false spirits have appeared in the world, who have deceived themselves and others with false fire, and false light? It is this; they endeavoured to have turned to God, without turning from themselves; would be alive in God, before they were dead to their own nature; a thing as impossible in itself, as for a grain of wheat to be alive before it dies.
Now religion in the hands of corrupt nature, serves only to discover vices of a worse kind, than in nature left to itself. Hence are all the disorderly passions of religious men, which burn in a worse flame, than passions only employed about worldly matters; pride, hatred, and persecution, under a cloak of religious zeal, will sanctify actions, which nature, left to itself, would start at.
Observe, Sir, the difference which cloaths make in those, who have it in their power to dress as they please: some are all for shew, colours, and glitters; others are quite fantastical and affected in their dress: some have a grave and solemn habit; others are quite simple and plain in the whole manner. But all this difference of dress is only an outward difference, that covers the same poor carcase, and leaves it full of all its own infirmities. Now all the truths of the gospel, when possessed by the old man, make just such a difference as is made by cloaths. Some put on a solemn, formal, prudent, outside carriage; others appear in all the glitter and shew of religious colouring, and spiritual attainments; but under all this outside difference, there lies the poor soul, unhelped, in its own fallen state. And, it is not possible to be otherwise, till the spiritual life begins at the true root, grows out of death, and is born in a broken heart. Self-contempt, and self-denial, are as suitable to this new-born spirit, as self-esteem, and self-seeking to the unregenerate man. Let me, therefore, my friend, conjure you, not to look forward, or cast about for spiritual advancement, till you have rightly taken this first step in the spiritual life. All your future progress depends upon it: for sin has its root in the bottom of your soul, it comes to life with your flesh and blood, and breathes in the breath of your natural life; and therefore, till you die to nature, you live to sin; and whilst this root of sin, is alive in you, all the virtues you put on, are only like fine painted fruit hung on a dead tree.
Academicus. But how am I to take this first step, which you so much insist upon?
Theophilus. You are to turn wholly from yourself, and to give up yourself wholly unto God,¹ in this or the like manner.
*“Oh my God, with all the strength of my soul, assisted by thy grace, I desire and resolve to resist and deny all my own will, earthly tempers, selfish views, and inclinations; every thing that the spirit of this world, and the vanity of fallen nature, prompt me to. I give myself up wholly unto thee, to be all thine, to have, and do, and be, inwardly and outwardly, according to thy good pleasure. I desire to live for no other ends, with no other designs, but to accomplish the work which thou requirest of me, an humble, obedient, faithful, thankful instrument in thy hands, ♦to be used as thou pleasest.”
*You are not to content yourself with now and then making this oblation of yourself to God. It must be the daily, the hourly exercise of your mind; till it is wrought into your very nature, and becomes an essential state of your mind, till you feel yourself as habitually turned from all your own will, selfish ends, and earthly desires, as you are from stealing and murder; till the whole turn and bent of your spirit points as constantly to God, as the needle touched with the loadstone does to the north. This, Sir, is your first¹ step in the spiritual life; this is the key to all the treasures of heaven; this unlocks the sealed book of your soul, and makes room for the light and Spirit of God to arise up in it. Without this, the spiritual life is but spiritual talk, and only assists nature to be pleased with a fancied holiness.
You may perhaps think this an hard saying. But do not go away sorrowful, like the young man in the gospel. I shall now leave you to consider, whether you will give up all the wealth of the old man for this heavenly pearl. I do not expect your answer now, but will stay for it till to-morrow.
But pray, gentlemen, who is this Humanus? I do not remember to have seen him before: he seems not willing to speak, yet is often biting his lips at what is said.
Rusticus. This Humanus, Sir, is my neighbour; but so ignorant of the nature of the gospel, that he is often trying to persuade me into a disbelief of it. I say ignorant (though he is a learned man) because I am well assured, that no man ever did or can oppose the gospel, but through a total ignorance of what it is in itself: for the gospel, when rightly understood, is irresistible: it brings more good news to the human nature, than sight to the blind, limbs to the lame, health to the sick, or liberty to the condemned slave. But this neighbour of mine has never yet been in sight of the real gospel; he knows nothing of it, but what he has picked up out of the books that have been written against it, and for it.
But this is enough concerning the man. He comes with me at his own desire, and upon promise, not to interrupt our conversation; but to be a silent hearer, till it is all over. And therefore, if you please, Sir, I beg our conversation may for a while turn upon the chief points of religion, that he may hear the whole nature, the necessity and blessedness of the Christian redemption.
*Theophilus. Your neighbour is welcome, and I pray God to give him an heart attentive to those truths, which have made so good an impression upon you. Your friend Humanus lays claim to a religion of nature and reason: I join with him, with all my heart. No other religion can be right but that which has its foundation in nature. For the God of nature can require nothing of his creatures, but what the state of their nature calls them to. Nature is his great law, that speaks his whole will both in heaven and on earth; and to obey nature, is to obey the God of nature; to please him, and to live to him, in the highest perfection. God indeed has many after-laws; but it is after his creatures have fallen from nature, and lost its perfection. But all these after-laws have no other end or intention, but to repair nature, and bring men back to their first natural state of perfection. What say you now, Academicus, to all these matters?
*Academicus. You know, how these matters have affected me, ever since I read some books lately published. From that time, I have seen things in such a newness of light, as makes me take my former knowledge for a dream. A dream I may justly say, since all my labour was taken up in teaching into a seventeen hundred years history of doctrines, disputes, decrees, heresies, schisms, and sects, wherever to be found, in Europe, Asia, and Africa. From this goodly heap of stuff crouded into my mind, I have been settling matters betwixt all the present Christian divisions both at home and abroad, according to the best rules of criticism; having little or no other idea of a religious man, than that of a stiff maintainer of certain points against all those that oppose them. And in this respect, I believe I may say, that I only swam away in the common torrent.
*And in this laborious dream I had in all likelihood ended my days; had not those books shewn me, that religion lay nearer home. But however, though I seem to be entered into a region of light, yet I must not forget to tell you, what some of my friends say: that in those books, there are many things asserted, which have not scripture to support them.
Theophilus. Is there not some reason Academicus, to take this objection of your learned friends to be a mere pretence? For what is more fully grounded upon scripture, than the doctrine of a real regeneration? And yet the plain letter of scripture, upon the most important of all points, the very life and essence of our redemption, is not only overlooked, but openly opposed, by the generality of men of sober learning. But this point has not only the plain letter of scripture for it; but what the letter asserts, is absolutely required by the whole spirit and tenor of the New Testament. All the epistles of the apostles proceed upon the supposed certainty of this one great point.
A Son of God, united with, and born in, our nature, that his nature may be produced in us; an holy Spirit, breathing in our souls, ♦quickening the dead in sin, is the letter and spirit of the apostles writings: grounded upon the plain letter of our Lord’s own words, that unless we are born again of water, and the Spirit we cannot see the kingdom of heaven.
Again: Is not the plain letter of scripture, that Adam died the day that he did eat of the earthly tree? Have we not the most solemn asseveration of God for the truth of this? Was not the change which Adam found in himself, a demonstration of the truth of this fact? Instead of the image and likeness of God which he was created, he was stript of all his glory, afraid of being seen, and unable to see himself uncovered; delivered up a slave to the rage of all the elements of this world, not knowing which way to look, or what to do in a world, where he was dead to all that he formerly felt, and alive only to a new and dreadful feeling of heat and cold, shame and fear, and horrible remorse of mind, at his said entrance in a world, whence God and his own glory, was departed. Death enough surely!
Death in its highest reality, a much greater change, than when an animal of flesh and blood is only changed into a cold lifeless carcase.
A death, that in all nature has none equal to it, none of the same nature with it, but that which the angels died, when, from angels of God, they became living devils, and slaves to darkness. Say that the angels lost no life, that they did not die a real death, because they are yet alive in the horrors of darkness; and then you may say, with the same truth, that Adam did not die when he lost God, and the first glory of his creation, because he ♦afterwards breathed in a world which was outwardly, in all its parts, full of the same curse that was within himself. But farther, not only the plain text, and the change of state which Adam found in himself, demonstrated a real death to his former state; but the whole tenor of scripture requires it; all the system of our redemption proceeds upon it. For what need of redemption, if Adam had not lost his first state? What need of the Deity to enter again into the human nature, not only as acting, but being born in it? What need of all this mysterious method to bring the life from above again into man, if the life from above had not been lost? It is true indeed that Adam, in his death to the divine life, was left in the possession of an earthly life. But ’tis wonderful that any man should imagine Adam did not die on the day of his sin, because he had as good a life left in him as the beasts of the field have.
For is this the life, or is the death that such animals die, the life and death with which our redemption is concerned? Are not all the scriptures full of a life and death of a much higher kind? What ground or reason then can there be to think of the death of an animal of this world, when we read of the death that Adam was to die the day of his sin? For does not all that befel him on the day of his sin shew that he lost a much greater life, suffered a more dreadful change, than that of giving up the breath of this world? For in the day of his sin, this angel of paradise; this Lord of the new creation, fell from the throne of his glory (like Lucifer from heaven) into the state of a poor, naked, distressed animal of flesh and blood; inwardly and outwardly feeling the curse in himself, and all the creation; and reduced to have only the faith of the devils, to believe and tremble. Proof enough, surely, that Adam was dead to the life of God; and that, with his death, all that was divine and heavenly in his soul, was quite at an end. Now this life to which Adam then died, is that life which all his posterity are in want of. And is there any reason to say, that mankind, in their natural state, are not dead to that first life in which Adam was created, because they are alive to this world? Yet this is as well as to say, that Adam did not die a real death, because he had afterwards an earthly life in him. How comes our Lord to say, that unless ye eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of Man, ye have no life in you? Did he mean, ye have no earthly life in you? How comes the apostle to say, he that hath the Son of God has life, but he that hath not the Son of God hath not life? Does he mean the life of this world? No. But both Christ and his apostles assert this great truth, that all mankind are in the state of Adam’s death, till they are made alive again by the Son and Holy Spirit. So plain is it, both from the letter and spirit of scripture, that Adam died a real death to the kingdom of God in the day of his sin. Take away this death, and all the scheme of our redemption has no ground left to stand upon.
For without the reality of a new birth, founded on a real death in the fall of Adam, the Christian scheme is but a skeleton of empty words, a detail of strange mysteries between God and man, that do nothing, and have nothing to do.
Oh Academicus, what a blindness there is in the world! What a stir is there among mankind about religion, and yet almost all seem to be afraid of that, in which alone is salvation!
Poor mortals! What is the one desire of your hearts? What is it that you call happiness, and matter of rejoicing? Is it not when every thing about you helps you to stand upon higher ground, and gratifies every pride of life? And yet life itself is the loss of every thing, unless pride be overcome. Oh stop awhile in contemplation of this great truth. It is a truth as unchangeable as God; it is written and spoken thro’ all nature; heaven and earth, fallen angels, and redeemed men, all bear witness to it. The truth is this: Pride must die in you, or nothing of heaven can live in you. Under the banner of this truth, give up yourselves to the meek and humble Spirit of the holy Jesus. This is the one way, the one truth, and the one life. There is no other door into the sheepfold of God. Every thing else is the working of the devil in the fallen nature of man. Humility must sow the seed, or there can be no reaping in heaven. Look not at pride only as an unbecoming temper; or humility only as a decent virtue; for the one is death, and the other is life; the one is all hell, and the other is all heaven.
So much as you have of pride, so much you have of the fallen angel in you: so much as you have of true humility, so much you have of the Lamb of God. Could you see with your eyes what every stirring of pride does to your soul, you would beg of every thing you meet to tear the viper from you; tho’ with the loss of an hand or an eye. Could you see what a sweet, divine, transforming power there is in humility, how it expels the poison of your fallen nature, and makes room for the Spirit of God to live in you; you would rather wish to be the footstool of all the world, than to want the smallest degree of it. My friends, for this time, adieu!
The Second Dialogue.
Theophilus.FROM this view of things, we see ♦a spirit of longing after the life of this world, made Adam and us to be the poor pilgrims on earth that we are; so the spirit of prayer, or the longing desire of the heart after Christ, and God, and heaven, raises us out of the miseries of time into the riches of eternity. Thus seeing and knowing our first and our present state, every thing calls us to prayer; and the desire of our heart becomes the spirit of prayer. And when the spirit of prayer is in us, then prayer is no longer considered as only the business of this or that hour, but is the continual panting or breathing of the heart after God. Its petitions are not picked out of manuals of devotion; it loves its own language; it speaks most when it says least. If you ask what its words are, they are spirit, they are life, they are love, that unite with God.
Academicus. I apprehend, Sir, that what you here say of the spirit of prayer, will be taken by some for a censure upon hours and forms of prayer; tho’ I know you have no such meaning.
Rusticus. Pray let me speak again to Academicus: His learning seems to be always upon the watch, to find out some excuse for not receiving the whole truth. Does not Theophilus here speak of the spirit of prayer, as a state of the heart, which is become the governing principle of the soul? And if it is a living state of the heart, must it not have its life in itself, independent of every outward time and occasion? And yet must it not, at the same time, be that alone which disposes the heart to delight in hours, and times, and occasions of prayer? Suppose he had said, that honesty is an inward living principle of the heart, a rectitude of the mind, that has all its life and strength within itself. Could this be thought to censure all times and occasions of performing outward acts of honesty? Now the spirit of prayer differs from all outward acts and forms of prayer, just as the honesty of the heart, or a living rectitude of mind, differs from outward and occasional acts of honesty. And yet should a man disregard times and occasions of outward acts of honesty, on pretence that true honesty was an inward living principle; who would not see that such a one had as little of the inward spirit, as of the outward acts of honesty? St. John saith, If any man hath this world’s goods, and seeth his brother hath need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion to him, how dwelleth the love of God in him? Just so, it may be said, if a man neglects times and hours of prayer, how dwelleth the spirit of prayer in him? And yet, its own life and spirit is vastly superior to, and stays for no particular hours, or forms of words. And in this sense it is truly said, that it has its own language; that it wants not to pick words out of manuals of devotion, but is always speaking forth spirit and life, and love towards God. But pray, Theophilus, do you go on as you intended.
*Theophilus. I shall only add, before we pass on to another point, that, from what has been said, it plainly follows, that the sin of all sins, or the heresy of all heresies, is a worldly spirit. We are apt to consider this temper only as an infirmity, or pardonable failure; but it is indeed the great apostasy from God, and the divine life. It is not a single sin, but the whole nature of sin, that leaves no possibility of coming out of our fallen state, till it be renounced with all the strength of our hearts. Every sin, be it of what kind it will, is only a branch of the worldly spirit that lives in us. There is but one that is good, saith our Lord, and that is God. In the same strictness of expression it must be said, there is but one life that is good, and that is the life of God and heaven. Depart in the least degree from the goodness of God, and you depart into evil; because nothing is good but his goodness.
Chuse any life, but the life of God and heaven, and you chuse death; for death is nothing else but the loss of the life of God. The creatures of this world have but one life, and that is the life of this world: this is their one life, and one good. Eternal beings have but one life, and one good; and that is the life of God. God could not create man to have a will of his own, and a life of his own, different from the life and will that is in himself; this is more impossible than for a good tree to bring forth corrupt fruit. God can only delight in his own life, his own goodness, and his own perfections; and therefore cannot love, or delight, or dwell in any creatures, but where his own goodness and perfections are to be found. Like can only unite with like, heaven with heaven, and hell with hell; and therefore the life of God must be the life of the soul, if the soul is to unite with God. Hence it is, that all the methods of our redemption have only this one end, to take from us that earthly life we have gotten by the fall, and to kindle again the life of God and heaven in our souls. Not to deliver us from that gross and sordid vice called coveteousness, which Heathens can condemn, but to take the whole spirit of this world entirely from us; because all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father; that is, is not that life, which we had from God by our creation; but is of this world; is brought into us by our fall from God into the life of this world. And therefore a worldly spirit is not to be considered as a single sin; but as a state of real death to the kingdom and life of God in our souls. Management, prudence, or an artful trimming betwixt God and mammon, are here all in vain; it is not only the grossness of an outward, worldly behaviour, but the spirit, the prudence, the wisdom of this world, that is our separation from the life of God.
Hold this therefore, Academicus, as a certain truth, that the heresy of all heresies is a worldly spirit. It is the whole nature and misery of our fall; it keeps up the death of our souls; and, so long as it lasts, makes it impossible for us to be born again. It is the greatest blindness and darkness of our nature, and keeps us in the grossest ignorance both of heaven and hell. For we feel neither the one nor the other, so long as the spirit of this world reigns in us. Light, and truth, and the gospel, so far as they concern eternity, are all empty sounds to the worldly spirit. His own good, and his own evil, govern all his hopes and fears; and therefore he can have no religion, farther than as it can be made serviceable to the life of this world. Publicans and Harlots are all of the spirit of this world; but its highest birth are Scribes, the Pharisees, and Hypocrites, who turn godliness into gain, and serve God for the sake of mammon; these live, and move, and have their being in and from the spirit of this world.——Of all things therefore my friends, detest the spirit of this world, or you must live and die an utter stranger to all that is divine and heavenly. You will go out of the world in the same poverty and death in which you entered into it. For a worldly spirit can know nothing, feel nothing, taste nothing, delight in nothing but with earthly senses, and after an earthly manner. The natural man, saith the apostle, receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, they are foolishness unto him. He cannot know them, because they are spiritually discerned; that is, they can only be discerned by that Spirit, which he hath not. Now the true reason of the absolute impossibility of the natural man, how polite, and learned, and acute soever he be, is this; so far as our life reaches, so far we understand, and feel, and know, and no farther. All after this is, only the play of our imagination, amusing itself with the dead pictures of its own ideas. Now this is all that the natural man can possibly do with the things of God. He can only contemplate them as so many dead ideas, that he receives from books, or hearsay; and so can learnedly dispute and quarrel about them, and laugh at those as Enthusiasts, who have a living sensibility of them. He is only the worse for his dead ideas of divine truths; they become bad nourishment to all his natural tempers: he is proud of his ability to discourse about them, and loses all humility, thro’ a vain and haughty contention for them. His zeal for religion is envy and wrath, his orthodoxy is pride and obstinacy, his love of the truth is hatred and ill-will to those who dare to dissent from him. This is the constant effect of the religion of the natural man, who is under the dominion of the spirit of this world. He cannot make a better use of his knowledge than this; and all for this plain reason, because he stands at the same distance from a living sensibility of the truth, as the man that is born blind, does from a living sensibility of light.
Academicus. You know, Sir, that in the morning you told me of a first step, that must be the beginning of a spiritual life; you gave me till to-morrow to speak my mind and resolution about it. But you have now extorted my answer from me: with all the strength that I have, I turn from every thing that is not God, and his holy will; with all the desire of my heart, I give up myself wholly to the light and Holy Spirit of God; pleased with nothing in this world, but as it gives time and place, and occasions of doing and being that, which my heavenly Father would have me to do and be; seeking for no happiness from this earthly fallen life, but that of overcoming all its spirit and tempers. But I believe, Theophilus, you had something farther to say.
Theophilus. Indeed, Academicus, there is hardly any knowing when one has said enough of the evil effects of a worldly spirit. It is the canker that eateth up all the fruits of our other good tempers; it leaves no degree of goodness in them, but transforms all that we are to do, into its own earthly nature. The philosophers of old, began all their virtue in a total renunciation of the spirit of this world. They saw with the eyes of heaven, that darkness was not more contrary to light, than the wisdom of this world to the spirit of virtue; therefore they allowed of no progress in virtue, but so far as a man had overcome himself, and the spirit of this world.
But the doctrine of the cross of Christ, the last, the highest, the most finishing stroke given to the spirit of this world, that speaks more in one word than all the philosophy of voluminous writers, is yet professed by those, who are in more friendship with the world than was allowed to the disciples of Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, or Epictetus.
Nay, if those antient sages were to start up among us with their divine wisdom, they would bid fair to be treated by the sons of the gospel, if not by some fathers of the church, as dreaming enthusiasts.
But, Academicus, this is a standing truth, the world can only love its own, and wisdom can only be justified of her children. The heaven-born Epictetus told one of his scholars, that then he might first look upon himself, as having made some true proficiency in virtue, when the world took him for a fool; an oracle like that, which said, The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.
If you was to ask me, whence is all the degeneracy of the present Christian church, I should place it all in a worldly spirit. If here you see open wickedness, there only forms of godliness; if here superficial holiness, political piety, crafty prudence; there haughty sanctity, partial zeal, envious orthodoxy; if almost every where you see a Jewish blindness, and hardness of heart, and the church trading with the gospel, as visibly, as the old Jews bought and sold beasts in their temple; all this is only so many forms and proper fruits of the worldly spirit. This is the great net, with which the devil becomes a fisher of men; and be assured of this, that every son of man is in this net, till, thro’ the Spirit of Christ, he breaks out of it.
I say the Spirit of Christ, for nothing else can deliver him from it. Trust to any kind, or form of religious observances, to any number of the most plausible virtues, to any kinds of learning, or efforts of human prudence, and I will tell you what your case will be; you will overcome one temper of the world, merely by cleaving to another. For nothing leaves the world, nothing can possibly overcome it, but the Spirit of Christ. Hence it is, that many learned men, with all the rich furniture of their brain, live and die slaves to the spirit of this world; and can only differ from gross worldlings, as the Scribes and Pharisees differ from Publicans and Sinners: it is because the Spirit of Christ is not the one thing that is the desire of their hearts; and therefore their learning only works with the spirit of this world, and becomes itself no small part of the vanity of vanities. Would you farther know, the evil effects of a worldly spirit, you need only look at the blessed effects of the spirit of prayer; for the one goes downwards with the same strength as the other goes upwards; the one weds you to an earthly nature, as the other unites you to Christ, and God, and heaven. The spirit of prayer is a pressing forth of the soul out of this earthly life; it is a stretching with all its desire after the life of God; it is a leaving, as far as it can, all its own spirit, to receive a spirit from above, to be one life, one love, one Spirit with Christ in God. This prayer, which is an emptying itself of all its own natural tempers, and an opening itself for the love of God to enter into it, is the prayer in the name of Christ, to which nothing is denied. For the love which God bears to the soul, his eternal, never-ceasing desire to enter into it, dwell in it, stays no longer, than till the door of the heart opens for him. For nothing can keep God out of the soul, or hinder his union with it, but the desire of the heart turned from him.
A will, given up to earthly goods, is at grass with Nebuchadnezzar, and has one life with the beasts of the field: for earthly desires keep up the same life in a man and an ox. When therefore a man wholly turneth his will to earthly desires, he dies to the excellency of his natural state, and may be said only to live, and move, and have his being in the life of this world, as the beasts have. Earthy food, only desired and used for the support of the earthly body, is suitable to a man’s present condition, and the order of nature: but when the desire of the soul is set upon earthly things, then the humanity is degraded, is fallen from God; and the life of the soul is made as earthly and bestial, as the life of the body.
*And this is to be noted well, that death can make no alteration in this state of the will; it only takes off the outward covering of flesh and blood, and forces the soul to see, and feel, and know, what a life, what a state, food, body, and habitation, its own will has brought forth for it. Oh Academicus, stop awhile, and let your hearing be turned into feeling. Tell me, is there any thing in life that deserves a thought, but how to keep our will in a right state, and to get that purity of heart, which alone can see, and know, and find, and possess God? Is there any thing so frightful as this worldly spirit, which turns the soul from God, makes it an house of darkness, and feeds it with the food of time, at the expence of all the riches of eternity.
On the other hand, what can be so desirable a good as the spirit of prayer, which empties the soul of all its evil; separates death and darkness from it; leaves time and the world; and becomes one life, one light, one Spirit with Christ and God?
Think, my friends, of these things, with something more than thoughts; let your hungry souls eat of the nourishment of them; and desire only to live, that with the whole spirit of your minds, you may live and die united to God; and thus let this conversation end, till God gives us another meeting.
The Third Dialogue.
Rusticus. I HAVE brought again with me, gentlemen, my silent friend Humanus, and upon the same condition of being silent still. But tho’ his silence is the same, yet he is quite altered. For these twenty years I have known him to be of an even, chearful temper, full of good-nature, and even quite calm and dispassionate in his attacks upon Christianity; never provoked by what was said either against his infidelity, or in defence of the gospel. He used to boast of his being free from those four passions, which, he said, were so easy to be seen, in most defenders of the gospel-meekness. But now he is morose, peevish, and full of chagrin; and seems to be as uneasy with himself, as with every body else. I tell him, but he will not own it, that his case is this: the truth has touched him, but it is only so far, as to be his tormentor. It is only as welcome to him, as a thief that has taken from him all his riches, goods, and armour, wherein he trusted. The Christianity he used to oppose is vanished; and therefore all the weapons he had against it, are dropt out of his hands. It now appears to stand upon another ground, to have a better nature, than what he imagined; and therefore he, and his scheme of infidelity, are quite disconcerted. But tho’ his arguments have lost their strength, his heart is left in the state it was; it stands in the same opposition to Christianity as it did before, and yet without any ideas of his brain to support it. And this is the true ground of his present, uneasy, peevish state of mind. He has nothing now to subsist upon, but the resolute hardness of his heart, his pride and obstinacy. Tho’ it is with some reluctance, yet I have chosen thus to make my neighbour known both to himself, and to you, that you may speak of such matters as may give the best relief to the state he is in.
Theophilus. His trial is the greatest and hardest that belongs to human nature: and yet it is absolutely necessary to be undergone.
*Nature must become a torment and burden to itself, before it can willingly give itself up to that death, thro’ which alone it can pass into life. There is no real conversion, whether it be from infidelity, or any other life of sin, till a man comes to know, and feel, that nothing less than his whole nature is to be parted with, and yet finds in himself no possibility of doing it. This is the despair by which we lose all our own life, to find a new one in God. For here, in this place it is, that faith, and hope, and true seeking to Christ, are born. But till all is lost that we had any trust in; faith and hope, and turning to God in prayer, are only things practised by rule and method; but they are not in us, till we have done feeling any trust or confidence in ourselves. Happy therefore is it for your friend, that every thing is taken from him in which he trusted. In this state, one sigh or look to God for help, would be the beginning of his salvation. Let us therefore try to improve this happy moment to him, not so much by arguments, as by the arrows of divine love.
*For Humanus, tho’ hitherto without Christ, is still within the reach of divine love: he belongs to God; God created him for himself, to be an habitation of his own Spirit; and God has brought him and us together, that the lost sheep may be found, and brought back to its heavenly shepherd.
Oh Humanus, love is my bait: you must be caught by it; it will put its hook into your heart, and force you to know, that of all strong things, nothing is so strong, so irresistible, as divine love.
It brought forth all the creation; it kindles all the life of heaven; it is the song of all the angels of God. It has redeemed all the world: it seeks for every sinner upon earth; it embraces all the enemies of God; and, from the beginning to the end of time, the one work of providence, is the one work of love.
Moses and the prophets, Christ and his apostles, were all of them messengers of divine love. They came to kindle a fire on earth, and the fire was the love which burns in heaven. Ask what God is? His name is love; he is the good, the perfection, the joy, the glory, and blessing of heaven and earth. Ask what Christ is? He is the universal remedy of all evil; he is the destruction of misery, sin, death, and hell. He is the resurrection and life of all fallen nature. He is the unwearied compassion, the long-suffering pity, the never-ceasing mercifulness of God to every want and infirmity of human nature.
He is the breathing forth of the heart, and Spirit of God, into all the dead race of Adam. He is the seeker, the finder, the restorer, of all that was lost and dead to the life of God. He is the love, that, from Cain to the end of time, prays for all its murderers; the love that willingly suffers and dies among thieves, that thieves may have a life with him in paradise: The love that visits publicans, harlots, and sinners, that wants and seeks to forgive, where most is to be forgiven.
Oh, my friends, let us surround and incompass Humanus with these flames of love, till he cannot make his escape from them, but must become a willing victim to their power. For the universal God is universal love; all is love, but that which is hellish and earthly. All religion is the spirit of love; all its gifts and graces are the gifts and graces of love; it has no breath, no life, but the life of love. Nothing exalts, nothing purifies, but the fire of love; nothing changes death into life, earth into heaven, men into angels, but love alone. Love breathes the Spirit of God; its words and works are the inspiration of God. It speaketh not of itself, but the word, the eternal word of God speaketh in it; for all that love speaketh, that God speaketh, because love is God. Love is heaven revealed in the soul; it is light, and truth, it has no errors, for all errors are the want of love. Love has no more of pride, than light has of darkness; it stands and bears all its fruits from a depth of humility. Love is no sect or party; it neither makes, nor admits of any bounds; you may as easily inclose the light, or shut up the air, as confine love to a sect or party. It lives in the liberty, the universality, and impartiality, of heaven. It believes in one, holy, catholic God, the God of all spirits; it joins with the catholic Spirit of the one God, who unites with all that is good, and is meek, patient, well-wishing, and long-suffering over all the evil that is in nature. Love, like the Spirit of God, rideth upon the wings of the wind; and is in communion with all the saints that are in heaven and on earth. Love is quite pure; it hath no by-ends; it seeks not its own; it has but one will, and that is, to give itself into every thing, and overcome all evil with good. Lastly, love cometh down from heaven; it regenerateth the soul from above; it blotteth out all transgressions; it taketh from death its sting, from the devil his power, and from the serpent his poison. It healeth all the infirmities of our earthly birth; it gives eyes to the blind, ears to the deaf, and makes the dumb to speak; it cleanses the lepers, and casts out devils, and puts man in paradise before he dies. It liveth wholly to the will of him, of whom it is born; its meat and drink is, to do the will of God. It is the resurrection and life of every divine virtue, a fruitful mother of true humility, boundless benevolence, unwearied patience, and bowels of compassion. This Rusticus, is the religion of divine love, the true church of God, where the life of God is found, and lived, and to which your friend Humanus is called by us. We direct him to nothing but the inward life of Christ, to the working of the Holy Spirit of God, which alone can deliver him from the evil that is in his own nature, and give him a power to become a Son of God.
Rusticus. My neighbour has infinite reason to thank you, for this lovely draught you have given of the spirit of religion. But pray let us now hear, how we are to enter into this love, or rather what God has done to introduce us into it.
Theophilus. The beginning of this redeeming love of God, is in that Immanuel, or God with us, given to the first Adam, as the seed of the woman, which in him, and his posterity, should bruise the head and overcome the life of the serpent. This is love indeed, because it is universal, and reaches from the first to the last man. Miserably as mankind are divided, and all at war with one another, every one appropriating God to themselves, yet they all have but one God, who is the Spirit of all, the life of all, and the lover of all. Men may divide themselves, to have God to themselves; they may hate and persecute one another for God’s sake; but this is a blessed truth, that God with an unalterable meekness, sweetness, patience, and good-will towards all, waits for all, calls them all, redeems them all, and comprehends all in the outstretched arms of his ♦catholic love. Ask not therefore how we shall enter into this religion of salvation; we have not far to go to find it. It is every man’s own treasure; it is a root of heaven, a seed of God, sown into our souls; and, like a small grain of mustard-seed, has a power of growing to be a tree of life. Here my friend, you should once for all, observe, where and what the true nature of religion is, its place is within; its work and effect is within: its glory, its life, its perfection, is all within; it is the raising a new life and new love in us. This was the spiritual nature of religion in its beginning, and this is its whole nature to the end of time; it is nothing else but the power, and life, and Spirit of God, as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, creating and reviving life in the fallen soul, and driving all its evil out of it.