Here therefore we are come to this firm conclusion, that let religion have ever so many shapes, forms, or reformations, it is no true divine service, no proper worship of God, but so far as it serves, worships, conforms, and gives itself up to this operation of the holy, triune God, as living and dwelling in the soul. Keep close to this idea of religion, as an inward spiritual life in the soul; observe all its works within you, the death and life that are found there; seek for no good, no comfort, but in the awakening of all that is holy and heavenly in your heart; and then, so much as you have of this inward religion, so much you have of a real salvation. For salvation is only a victory over nature; so far as you resist and renounce your own selfish and earthly nature, so far as you overcome all your own natural tempers, so far God lives and operates in you; he is the light, the life, and the spirit of your soul; and you worship him in spirit and in truth. For nothing worships God, but the Spirit of Christ his beloved Son, in whom he is well pleased. This is as true, as that no man hath known the Father but the Son, and he to whom the Son revealeth him. Look now at any thing as religion, but a strict conformity to the life and Spirit of Christ; and then, tho’ every day was full of burnt-offerings, and sacrifices, yet you would be only like those religionists, who drew near to God with their lips, but their hearts were far from him.
For the heart is always far from God, unless the Spirit of Christ be in it. But no one has the living Spirit of Christ, but he, who in all his conversation walketh as he walked. Consider these words of the apostle, My little children, of whom I travail in birth, till Christ be formed in you. This is the sum total of all, and, if this is wanting, all is wanting. Thus saith he, If any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his; nay, tho’ he could say of himself, (as our Lord says many will) Have I not prophesied in the name of Christ, cast out devils, and done many wonderful works? Yet such a one not being led by the Spirit of Christ, is that very man, whose high state the apostle makes to be a mere nothing, because he hath not that spirit of charity, which is the Spirit of Christ. Again, There is no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus; therefore to be in Christ Jesus, is to have that spirit of charity, which is the spirit and life of all virtues. Now here you are to observe, that the apostle no more rejects all outward religion, when he says circumcision is nothing, than he rejects prophesying, and faith, and alms-giving, when he says they profit nothing; he only teaches this solid truth, that the kingdom of God is within us, and that it all conflicts in the state of our heart; and that therefore all our outward observances, all the most specious virtues, profit nothing, are of no value, unless the hidden man of the heart, the Spirit of Christ, be the doer of them.
Thus, says he, They who are led by the Spirit of God, are the sons of God. And therefore none else, be they who, or where, or what they will, clergy or laity, none are, or can be, sons of God, but they who give up themselves to the leading and guidance of the Spirit of God, desiring to be moved, inspired, and governed solely by it. Indeed all scripture brings us to this conclusion, that all religion is but a dead work, unless it be the work of the Spirit of God; and that sacraments, prayers, singing, preaching, hearing, are only so many ways of giving up ourselves more and more to the inward working, enlightening, quickening, sanctifying Spirit of God; and for this end, that the curse of the fall may be swallowed up in victory; and a true, real, Christ-like nature formed in us, by the same Spirit, by which it was formed in the holy Virgin Mary. Now for the absolute necessity of this turning wholly to God, the spirit of Satan, or the spirit of this world, are, and must be, the one or the other of them, the continual leader, guide, and inspirer of every thing that lives in nature. The moment you cease to be moved, inspired by God, you are moved and directed by the spirit of Satan, or the world, or both. *As creatures, we are under an absolute necessity of being under the guidance and inspiration of some spirit, that is greater than our own. All that is in our power, is only the choice of our leader; but led and moved we must be, and that by the Spirit of God, or the spirit of fallen nature. To seek therefore to be always under the inspiration and guidance of God’s Holy Spirit, and to act by an immediate power from it, is not enthusiasm, but as sober a thought, as to think of renouncing the world and the devil. For they never can be renounced by us, but so far as the Spirit of God is living, breathing, and moving in us.
Academicus. You have taken from me every difficulty or perplexity that I had. It now appears to me with the utmost clearness, that to look for salvation in any thing else, but the Spirit of God working in us, is to be as carnally minded, as ignorant of God and salvation as the Jews were, when their hearts were set upon the glory of their temple-service, and a temporal saviour to defend it, by a temporal power. For every thing but the Spirit of God forming Christ in the soul, has and can have no more of salvation in it, than a temporal, fighting saviour. Upon this ground I stand in the utmost certainty, looking wholly to the Spirit of God for an inward redemption from all the inward evil that is in my fallen nature. All that I now want to know is this, what I am to do, to procure this continual operation of the Spirit of God within me.
Theophilus. Ask not Academicus, what you are to do to obtain the Spirit of God; for your measure of receiving it, is just according to your faith and desire to be led by it. For to this faith, all things are possible, to which all nature, tho’ as high as mountains, and as stiff as oaks, must yield and obey. It heals all diseases, breaks the bands of death, and calls the dead out of their graves.
It is strictly true, that man’s salvation dependeth upon himself; and it is as strictly true, that all the work of his salvation, is solely the work of God in his soul. All his salvation dependeth upon himself, because his will has its power of motion in itself. As a will, it can only receive that which it willeth; every thing else is absolutely shut out of it. For it is the unalterable nature of the will, that it cannot possibly receive any thing into it, but that which it willeth; its willing is its only power of receiving; and therefore there can be no possible entrance for God or heaven into the soul, till the will of the soul desireth it; and thus all man’s salvation dependeth upon himself. On the other hand, nothing can create, effect, the divine life in the soul, but that Spirit of God, which brings forth the divine life in heaven. And thus the work of our salvation is wholly and solely the work of God, dwelling and operating in us. Thus, you see that God is all; that nothing but his life and working-power in us, can be our salvation; and yet that nothing but the spirit of prayer can make it possible for us to have it. And therefore neither you, nor any other human soul, can be without the operation of the Spirit of God in it, but because its will or its spirit of prayer is turned towards something else; for we are always in union with that, with which our will is united. Again: Look at the light and air of this world, you see with what a freedom of communication they overflow and enliven every thing; they enter every where, if not hindered by something that withstands their entrance. This may represent to you the ever-overflowing, free communication of the light and Spirit of God, to every human soul. They are every where; we are encompassed with them; our souls are as near to them, as our bodies are to the light and air of this world; nothing shuts them out of us, but the will and desire of our souls turned from them, and praying for something else. I say, praying for something else; for you are to notice this as a certain truth, that every man’s life is a continual state of prayer; he is no moment free from it, nor can possibly be so. For all our natural tempers, be they what they will, ambition, covetousness, selfishness, worldly-mindedness, pride, envy, hatred, malice, or any other lust whatever, are all of them in reality only so many different forms of a spirit of prayer, which is as inseparable from the heart, as weight is from the body. For every natural temper is a manifestation of the desire and prayer of the heart, and shews us, how it works and wills. And as the heart worketh, and willeth, such, and no other, is its prayer. All else is only form and fiction, and empty beating of the air. If therefore the desire of the heart is not habitually turned towards God, we are necessarily in a state of prayer towards something else, that carries us from God. For this is the necessity of our nature; pray we must, as sure as we are alive; and therefore when the state of our heart is not a spirit of prayer to God, we pray without ceasing to some or other part of the creation. The man whose heart habitually tends towards the riches, honours, powers, or pleasures of this life, is in a continual state of prayer towards all these things. His spirit stands always bent towards them; they have his hope, his love, his faith, and are the many gods that he worships: And tho’ when he is upon his knees, and uses forms of prayer, he directs them to the God of heaven; yet these are in reality the gods of his heart, and in a sad sense of the words, he really worships them in spirit and in truth. Hence you may see how it comes to pass, that there is so much praying, and yet so little true piety amongst us. The bells are daily calling us to church, our closets abound with manuals of devotion, yet how little fruit! It is all for this reason, because our prayers are not our own; they are not the abundance of our own heart; are not found and felt within us, as we feel our own hunger and thirst; but are only so many borrowed forms of speech, which we use at certain times, and occasions. And therefore it is no wonder that little good comes of it. What benefit could it have been to the Pharisee, if, with an heart inwardly full of its own pride and self-exaltation, he had outwardly hung down his head, smote upon his breast, and borrowed the Publican’s words, God be merciful to me a sinner? What greater good can be expected from our saying the words of David, or singing his psalms seven times a day, if our heart hath no more of the spirit of David in it, than the heart of the Pharisee had, of the spirit of the humble Publican?
Academicus. O Theophilus, I consent to what you say; and yet I am afraid of following you: for you seem to condemn forms of prayer in public, and manuals of devotion in private.
Theophilus. Dear Academicus, abate your fright. Can you think, that I am against your praying in the words of David, or breathing his spirit in your prayers, or that I would censure your singing his psalms seven times a day? At three several times we are told, our Lord prayed, repeating the same form of words; and therefore a set form of words are not only consistent with, but may be highly suitable to, the most divine spirit of prayer. If your own heart, for days and weeks, were unable to alter, or break off from inwardly thinking and saying, Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done; if at other times, it stood always inwardly in another form of prayer, saying, Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly, with all thy holy nature, Spirit, and tempers, into my soul; that I may be born again of thee, a new creature; I should be so far from censuring this, that I should say, Blessed are they whose hearts are tied to such a form of words. It is not therefore a set form that is spoken against, but an heartless form, a form that has no relation to, or correspondence with, the state of the heart that uses it. All that I have said is only to teach you the true nature of prayer, that it is the work of the heart, and that the heart only prays in reality (whatever its words are) for that which it habitually wills, likes, loves, and longs to have. It is not therefore the using the words of David, or any other saint, in your prayers, that is censured, but the using them without that state of heart, which first spake them forth; and the trusting to them, because they are a good form; tho’ in our hearts we have nothing that is like them. It would be good to say incessantly with holy David, My heart is athirst for God. As the hart desireth the water-brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, O God. But there is no goodness in saying daily these words, if no such thirst is felt in the heart. And, you may easily know that numbers of repeated forms, keep men content with their state, because they make use of such holy prayers; tho’ their hearts, from morning to night, are in a state quite contrary to them, and join no farther in them, than in liking to use them at certain times.
Academicus. I acquiesce, Theophilus, in the truth of what you have said, and plainly see the necessity of condemning what you have condemned; which is not the form, but the heartless form. But still I have a scruple upon me: I shall be almost afraid of going to church, where there are so many good prayers offered up to God, as suspecting they may not be the language of my own heart, and so become only a lip-labour.
Theophilus. I do not dislike your scruple at all; you do well to be afraid of saying any thing to God, which your heart does not truly say. It is also good for you to think, that many of the prayers of the church may go higher, than your heart can go along with them. For this will put you upon a right care over yourself, so to live, that, as a true son of your mother the church, your heart may be able to speak her language, and find delight in the spirit of her prayers. But this will only then come to pass, when the spirit of prayer is the spirit of your heart; then every good word, whether in a form, or out of a form, will be as suitable to your heart, as gratifying to it, as food is to the hungry, and drink to the thirsty soul. But till the spirit of the heart is thus renewed, till it is emptied of all earthly desires, and stands in an habitual hunger and thirst after God (which is the true spirit of prayer) all our forms of prayer will be, more or less, but too much like lessons that are given to scholars. But be not discouraged, Academicus; take the following advice, and you may go to church without any danger of a mere lip-labour; altho’ there should be a psalm, or a prayer, whose language is higher than that of your own heart. Do this: Go to the church, as the Publican went into the temple; stand inwardly in the spirit of your mind, in that form which he outwardly expressed, when he cast down his eyes, smote upon his breast, and could only say, God be merciful to me a sinner! Stand unchangeably (at least in your desire) in this form and state of heart; it will sanctify every petition that comes out of your mouth; and when any thing is read, or sung, or prayed, that is more exalted than your heart is, if you make this an occasion of a farther sinking down in the spirit of the Publican, you will then be helped, and highly blessed, by those prayers and praises, which seem only to fit a better heart than yours.
This, my friend, will help you to reap where you have not sown, and be a continual source of grace in your soul. This will not only help you to receive good from those prayers, which seem too good for the state of your heart, but will help you to find good from every thing else: for every thing that inwardly stirs in you, or outwardly happens to you, becomes a real good to you, if it either finds or excites in you this humble form of mind: for nothing is in vain, or without profit, to the humble soul; like the bee, it takes its honey even from bitter herbs; it stands always in a state of divine growth; and every thing that falls upon it, is like a dew of heaven to it. Shut up yourself therefore in this humility, all good is inclosed in it. Let it be as a garment wherewith you are always covered, and the girdle with which you are girt; breathe nothing but in and from its spirit; see nothing but with its eyes; hear nothing but with its ears: and then, whether you are in the church, or out of the church; hearing the praises of God, or receiving wrongs from men; all will be edification, and every thing will help forward your growth in the life of God.
Academicus. Indeed, Theophilus, this answer to my scruple is good. All my desire now is, to live no longer to the world, to myself, my natural tempers and passions, but wholly to the will of the blessed and adorable God.
*Theophilus. This resolution, Academicus, only shews that you are just come to yourself; for every thing short of this earnest desire to live wholly unto God, may be called a most dreadful infatuation or madness, and insensibility that cannot be described. For what else is our life, but a trial for the greatest evil, or good that an eternity can give us? What can be so dreadful, as to die possessed of a wicked immortal nature, or to go out of this world with tempers, that must keep us for ever miserable? What has God not done to prevent this? His redeeming love began with our fall, and calls every man to salvation, and every man is forced to hear, tho’ he will not obey his voice. God has so loved the world, that his only Son hung and expired, bleeding on the cross for us. Are we yet sons of pride, and led away with vanity? Do the powers of darkness rule over us? Do evil spirits possess and drive on our lives? Is remorse of conscience no longer felt? Are falshood, guile, debauchery, profaneness, perjury, bribery, corruption, and adultery, no longer seeking to hide themselves in corners, but openly entering into all our high places, giving battle to every virtue, and laying claim to the government of the world? Are we thus near being swallowed up by a deluge of vice and impiety? All this is not come upon us, because God has left us without help from heaven, or exposed us to the powers of hell; but because we have rejected and despised the whole mystery of our salvation, and trampled under foot the precious blood of Christ, which alone has that omnipotence that can either bring heaven into us, or drive hell out of us. O Britain, Britain, think that the Son of God saith unto thee, as he said, O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy children, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. And now let me say, what aileth thee, O British earth, that thou quakest, and the foundations of thy churches that they totter? Just that same aileth thee, as ailed Judah’s earth, when the divine Saviour of the world, dying on the cross, was reviled, scorned, and mocked, by the inhabitants of Jerusalem; then the earth quaked, the rocks rent, and the sun refused to give its light. Nature again declares for God, the earth and the elements can no longer bear our sins: Jerusalem’s doom for Jerusalem’s sin, may well be feared by us. O ye miserable pens dipt in Satan’s ink, that dare to publish the folly of believing in Jesus Christ, where will you hide your guilty heads when nature dissolved, shall shew you the rainbow, on which the crucified Saviour shall sit in judgment, and every work receive its reward? O tremble! ye apostate sons, that come out of the schools of Christ, to fight Lucifer’s battles, and do that for him, which neither he, nor his legions can do for themselves. Their inward pride, malice and rage against God, and Christ, and human nature, have no pens but yours, no apostles but you. They must be forced to work in the dark, to steal privately into impure hearts, could they not beguile you into a fond belief, that you are lovers of truth, friends of reason, detectors of fraud, great genius’s, and moral philosophers, merely, because ye blaspheme Christ, and the gospel of God. Poor deluded souls, rescued from hell by the blood of Christ, called by God to possess the thrones of fallen angels, permitted to live only by the mercy of God, that ye may be born again, my heart bleeds for you. Think, I beseech you, in time, what mercies ye are trampling under your feet. Say not that reason, and your intellectual faculties, stand in your way; that these are the best gifts which God has given you, and that these suffer you not to come to Christ. All this is as vain a pretence, and as gross a mistake as if ye were to say, that you had nothing but your feet to carry you to heaven. For your heart is the best and greatest gift of God to you; it is the highest, greatest, and noblest power of your nature; it forms your whole life, be what it will; all evil and all good comes from it; your heart alone has the key of life and death; it does all that it will; reason is but its play-thing, and whether in time or eternity, can only be a mere beholder of the wonders of happiness, or forms of misery, which the right or wrong working of the heart has caused.
*I will give you a touch-stone. Offer as continually as you can, this following form of prayer to God. Offer it frequently on your knees; but, whether sitting, standing, or walking, be always inwardly longing, and earnestly praying this one prayer to God: “That, of his great goodness, he would make known to you, and take from your heart, every kind, and form, and degree of pride, whether it be from evil spirits, or your own corrupt nature; and that he would awaken in you the depth and truth of all that humility, which can make you capable of his light and Holy Spirit.” Reject every thought, but that of wishing, and praying in this manner from the bottom of your heart, with such truth and earnestness, as people in torment wish and pray to be delivered from it. Now if ye dare not, if your hearts will not, cannot give themselves up in this manner to the spirit of this prayer, then the touch-stone has done its work, and ye may be as fully assured both what your infidelity is, and from what it proceeds, as ye can be of the plainest truth in nature. This will shew you, how vainly you appeal to your reason, as the cause of your infidelity: that it is full as false and absurd, as if thieves and adulterers should say, that their theft and adultery was entirely owing to their bodily eyes, which shewed them external objects, and not to any thing that was wrong in their hearts. On the other hand, if you can, and will give yourselves up in sincerity to this spirit of prayer, I will venture to affirm, that if ye had twice as many evil spirits in you, as Mary Magdalen had, they will all be cast out of you, and ye will be forced with her, to weep with tears of love, at the feet of the holy Jesus.
But here, my friends, I stop, that we may return to the matter we had in hand.
Rusticus. You have made no digression Theophilus, from our main point, which was to recommend Christianity to poor Humanus. He must, I am sure, have felt the death’s-blows, that you have here given to the infidel scheme. Their idol of reason, which is the vain god they worship, is here like Dagon fallen to the ground. Humanus is caught by your bait of love, and I dare say wants only to have this conversation ended, that he may try himself, by this divine touch-stone, which you have put into his hands.
Academicus. Give me leave, gentlemen, to add one word. Theophilus has fairly pulled reason out of its usurped throne, and shewn it to be a powerless, idle toy, when compared to the royal strength of the heart, which is the kingly power, that has all the government of life in its hands.
But now, Theophilus, I beg we may return to that very point concerning prayer, where we left off. I think my heart is entirely devoted to God: and that I desire nothing but to live in such a state of prayer, as may best keep me under the guidance and direction of the Holy Spirit. Assist me therefore, in this important matter; give me the fullest directions that you can; and if you have any manual of devotion, that you prefer, or any method that you would put me in, pray let me know it.
Rusticus. I beg leave to speak a word to Academicus. Ask not Academicus, for a book of prayers; but ask your heart what is within it, what it feels, how it stirs, what it wants, what it would have altered, what it desires; and then, instead of calling upon Theophilus for assistance, stand in the same form of petition to God.
For this turning to God according to the inward feeling, want, and motion of your own heart, in love, in trust of having from him all that you want, and wish, is the best form of prayer in the world.————*Now no man can be ignorant of the state of his own heart, or a stranger to those tempers, that are stirring in him; and what should be the form of his prayer, but that which the state of his heart demands? If you know of no trouble, feel no burden, want nothing to be altered, or removed, nothing to be increased or strengthened in you, how can you pray for any thing of this kind? But if your heart knows its own plague, feels its inward evil, knows what it wants to have removed, will you not let your distress form the manner of your prayer? Or will you pray in a form of words, that have no more agreement with your state, than if a man walking above-ground, should beg every man he met, to pull him out of a deep pit? For prayers not formed according to the real state of your heart, are but like a prayer to be pulled out of a deep well, when you are not in it. Hence you may see, how unreasonable it is to make a mystery of prayer, or an art, that needs so much instruction; since every man is, and only can be, directed by his own inward state, and condition, when and how, and what he is to pray for, as every man’s outward state shews him what he outwardly wants.
Academicus. I did not imagine, Rusticus, that you would have so openly declared against manuals of devotion, since you know not only the most learned, but the most pious doctors of the church, consider them as necessary helps to devotion.
Rusticus. If you was obliged to go a long journey on foot, and yet through a weakness in your legs could not set one foot before another, you would do well to get the best travelling crutches that you could.
But if, with sound and good legs, you would not stir one step, till you had got crutches to hop with; surely a man might shew you the folly of not walking with your own legs, without being thought an enemy to crutches, or the makers of them. Now a manual is not so good an help, as crutches, and yet you see crutches are only proper, when our legs cannot do their office. It is, I say, not so good an help as crutches, because that which you do with the crutches, is that very same thing, that you should have done with your legs: you really travel; but when the heart cannot take one step in prayer, and you therefore read your manual, you do not do that very same thing, which your heart should have done, that is, really pray. A fine manual therefore is not to be considered as a means of praying, or as something that puts you in a state of prayer, as crutches help you to travel; but its chief use to a dead and hardened heart, that has no prayer of its own, is to shew it, what a state and spirit of prayer it wants, and at what a sad distance it is from feeling all that variety of humble, penitent, grateful, fervent, resigned, loving sentiments, which are described in the manual, that so, being touched with a view of its own miserable state, it may begin its own prayer to God for help. But I have done. Theophilus may now answer your earnest request.
Theophilus. Your earnest desire, Academicus, to live in the spirit of prayer, and be truly governed by it, is a most excellent desire; for to be a man of prayer is that which the apostle means by living in the Spirit, and having our conversation in heaven. It is to have done, not only with the confessed vices, but with the allowed follies and vanities of this world. To tell such a soul of the innocency of levity, that it need not run away from idle discourse, vain gaiety, and trifling mirth, as being the harmless relief of our heavy natures, is like telling the flame, that it need not ascend upwards. But here you are to observe, that this spirit of prayer is not to be taught you by a book, or brought into you by an art from without; but must arise from within, from the painful sense and feeling of what you are. And its first prayer is nothing else but a sense of penitence, self-condemnation, confession, and humility. It feels nothing but its own misery, and so is all humility. This prayer of humility is met by the divine love, the mercifulness of God embraces it; and then its prayer is changed into hymns, and songs, and thanksgivings. When this state of fervour has done its work, has melted away all earthly passions and affections, and left no inclination in the soul, but to delight in God alone, then its prayer changes again. It is now come so near to God, has found such union with him, that it does not so much pray as live in God. Its prayer is not any particular faculty, not confined to times, or words, or place, but is the work of his whole being, which continually stands in fulness of faith, in purity of love, in absolute resignation, to do, and be, what and how his beloved pleaseth. This is the last state of the spirit of prayer, and is its highest union with God in this life. Each of these states has its time, its variety of workings, its trials, temptations, and purifications, which can only be known by experience in the passage through them. The one infallible way to go safely through all the difficulties, trials, temptations, or opposition, of our own evil tempers is this: to expect nothing from ourselves, to trust to nothing in ourselves, but in every thing expect, and depend upon God. Keep fast hold of this thread, and then let your way be what it will, darkness, temptation, or the rebellion of nature, you will be led through all, to an union with God: for nothing hurts us in any state, but an expectation of something in it, and from it, which we should only expect from God. We are looking for our own virtue, our own piety, our own goodness, and so live on and on in our own poverty and weakness; to-day pleased and comforted with the seeming strength and firmness of our own pious tempers; to-morrow, fallen into our own mire, we are dejected, but not humbled; we grieve, but it is only the grief of pride, at seeing our perfection not to be such as we vainly imagined. And thus it will be, till the whole turn of our minds is so changed, that we as fully see and know our inability to have any goodness of our own, as to have a life of our own.
*When we are brought to this conviction, then we have done with all thought of being our own builders; the whole spirit of our mind is become a mere faith, and hope, and trust in the sole operation of God’s Spirit, looking no more to any other power, to become new creatures, than we look to any other power for the resurrection of our bodies at the last day. Hence may be seen, that the trials of every state are its greatest blessings; they do that for us, which we most of all want to have done, they force us to know our own nothingness, and the all of God.
*The soul is always safe in every state, if it makes every thing an occasion either of rising up, or falling down into the hands of God, and exercising faith, and trust, and resignation to him. And therefore the pious soul that eyes only God, that means nothing but being his alone, can have no stop put to its progress; joy and heaviness equally assist him; in the joy he looks up to God; in the heaviness he lays hold on God, and so they both do him the same good.
The best instruction that I can give you, as preparatory to the spirit of prayer, is already fully given, where we have set forth the original perfection, the miserable fall, and the glorious redemption of man. It is the true knowledge of these great things that can do all for you, which human instruction can do. These things must fill you with a dislike of your present state, and create an earnest longing after your first perfection. For prayer cannot be taught you, by giving you a book of prayers, but by awakening in you a sense of what you are, and what you should be; that so you may see, and know, and feel, what things you want, and are to pray for. For a man does not, cannot pray for any thing because a fine petition for it is put into his hands, but because his own condition is a reason and motive for his asking for it. And therefore it is, that this tract began with a discovery of these high and important matters, at the sight of which the world, and all that is in it, shrinks into nothing, and every thing past, present, and to come, awakens in our hearts a continual prayer, and longing desire, after God and eternity.
Academicus. But surely you do not take this to be right in general, that the common people, who are mostly of low understandings, should kneel down in private, without any form of prayer, saying only what comes into their own heads.
Theophilus. It would be wrong to condemn a manual as such, or to say that none ought to make use of it; but it cannot be wrong, to shew, that prayer is the natural language of the heart, and such, does not want any form or borrowed words. Now all that has been said of manuals of prayers, only amounts to thus much; that they are not necessary, nor the most natural and excellent way of praying. If they happen to be necessary to any person, it is because the natural prayer of his heart is already engaged, loving, wishing, and longing after, the things of this life; which makes him so insensible of his spiritual wants, so blind and dead to the things of God, that he cannot pray for them, but so far as the words of other people are put into his mouth.
But when a man has had so much benefit from the gospel, as to know his own want of a Redeemer, who he is, and how he is to be found; there every thing seems to be done, both to awaken and direct his prayer, and make it a true praying in and by the spirit. For when the heart really pants after God, its prayer is a praying, as moved by the Spirit of God; it is the breath or inspiration of God, stirring, moving, and opening itself in the heart. Nothing can have the least desire to ascend to heaven, but that which came down from heaven; and therefore nothing in the heart can pray, and long after God, but the Spirit of God moving and stirring in it. Every breath therefore of the true spirit of prayer, is nothing else but the Spirit of God, breathing, inspiring, and moving the heart, in all its variety of motions and affections, towards God. And therefore every time a good desire stirs in the heart, a good prayer goes out of it, that reaches God, as being the fruit and work of his holy Spirit. When any man, feeling his corruption, looks up to God, with desire to be delivered from it, whether with words or without words, how can he pray better? What need of any change of thoughts, or words, or any variety of expressions, when the one desire of his heart made known to God, and continued in, is not only all, but the most perfect prayer he can make? Again, suppose the soul in another state, feeling with joy its offered Redeemer, and opening its heart for the full reception of him; if it stands in this state of wishing and longing for Christ, how can its prayer be in an higher degree?
Or if it breaks out frequently in these words, Come Lord Jesus, come quickly, with all thy holy nature, Spirit, and tempers into my soul, is there any occasion to enlarge or alter these words into another form or expression? Can he do better, or pray more, than by continually standing from time to time in this state of wishing for Christ? Nay, is it not likely, that his heart should be more divided and dissipated by a numerous change of expressions, than by keeping united to one expression that sets forth all that he wants? For it is the reality, the steadiness, and continuance of the desire, that is the goodness of prayer. Our Lord said to one that came to him, What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? He answered, Lord, that I may receive my sight: and he received it. Another said, Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean: and he was cleansed. Tell me what learning, or fine parts, are required to make such prayers as these? And yet what wonders of relief are recorded in scripture, as given to such short prayers as these! And what blessing may not now be obtained in the same way, and with as few words? Every man therefore that has any feeling of the weight of his sin, or any desire to be delivered from it by Christ, has learning and capacity enough to make his own prayer. For praying is not speaking eloquently, but simply, the true desire of the heart; and the heart, simple and plain in good desires, is in the truest preparation for all the gifts of God. And the most simple souls, that have accustomed themselves to speak their own desires and wants to God, in such short, but true breathings of their hearts, will soon know more of prayer, than any persons who have only their knowledge from learning, and learned books.
*And yet it is not either silence, or a simple petition, or a great variety of outward expressions, that alters the nature of prayer, or makes it to be good or better, but only and solely the reality, steadiness, and continuance of the desire; and therefore whether a man offer this desire to God in the silent longing of the heart, or in simple, short, petitions, or in a great variety of words, is of no consequence; but all are equally good, when the true and right state of the heart is with them.
All that I have said of prayer, has been only to this end: to shew its real nature; whence it is to arise; where it is to be found: and how you are to begin, and become a true proficient in it. If, therefore, you was at present to look no farther, than how to begin to practise a prayer proceeding from your heart, and continue in it, leaving all that you are farther to know of prayer, to be known in its time by experience: this would be much better for you, than to be asking before-hand about such things, as are not your immediate concern.
Begin to be a man of prayer, in this easy, simple, and natural manner, that has been set before you; and when you are faithful to this method, you will then need no other instructor in the art of prayer. Your own heart thus turned to God will want no one to tell it, when it should be simple in its petitions, or various in its expressions: or prostrate itself in silence before God. But this hastiness of knowing things, before they belong to us, is very common. Thus a man that has but just entered upon the reformation of his life, shall want to read or hear a discourse upon perfection, whether it be attainable or not; and shall be more eager after what he can hear of this, though at such a distance, than of such things as concern the next step he is to take.
You, my friend, have taken the first step¹ in the spiritual life; you have devoted yourself absolutely to God, to live wholly to his will, under the light and guidance of his holy Spirit, intending, seeking nothing in this world, but such a passage thro’ it as may tend to the glory of God, and the recovery of your own fallen soul. Your next step is, looking to the continuance of this resolution, and donation of yourself to God, to see that it be kept alive, that every thing you do may be animated and directed by it, and all the occurrences of every day, from morning to night, be received by you, as becomes a spirit that is devoted to God. Now this second step cannot be taken but purely by prayer; nothing else has the least power here but prayer; I do not mean you must frequently read or say a number of prayers, (tho’ this in its turn may be good and useful to you) but the prayer I mean, and which you must practise, if you would take this second step in the spiritual life, is prayer of the heart, or a prayer of your own, proceeding from the state of your heart, and its own tendency to God. Of all things therefore look to this prayer of the heart; consider it as your infallible guide to heaven; turn from every thing that is an hindrance of it, that quenches or abates its fervour; love and like nothing but that which is suitable to it; and let every day begin, go on, and end in the spirit of it. Consider yourself, as having gone aside and lost your right path, when any delight, desire, or trouble is suffered to live in you, that cannot be made a part of this prayer of the heart to God. For nothing so infallibly shews us the true state of our heart, as that which gives us either delight or trouble; for as our delight and trouble is, so is the state of our heart: if therefore you are carried away with any trouble or delight, that has not relation to your progress in the divine ♦life, you may be assured your heart is not in its right state of prayer to God. Look at a man who is devoted to some one thing, or has some one great worldly matter at heart; he stands turned from every thing that has not some relation to it; he has no joy or trouble but what ariseth from it; he has no eyes or ears but to see or hear something about it. All else is a trifle, but that which some way or other concerns this great matter. You need not tell him of any rules or methods to keep it in his thoughts; it goes with him into all places and companies; it has his first thoughts in the morning; and every day is good or bad, as this great matter seems to succeed or not. This may shew you how easily, how naturally, how constantly, our heart will carry on its own state of prayer, as soon as God is its great object, or it is wholly given up to him. This may also shew you, that the heart cannot fully enter into the spirit of prayer, till it takes God for its all, or gives itself up wholly to God. But when this foundation is laid, the seed of prayer is sown, and the heart is in a continual state of tendency to God; having no other delight or trouble in things of any kind, but as they help or hinder its union with God. Therefore, the way to be a man of prayer, and be governed by its spirit, is not to get a book full of prayers; but the best help you can have from a book, is to read one full of such truths and awakening informations, as force you to see and know who, and what, and where you are; that God is your all; and that all is misery, but a heart and life devoted to him. This is the best outward prayer-book you can have, as it will turn you to an inward book and spirit of prayer in your heart, which is a continual longing desire of the heart after God. When, for the sake of this inward prayer, you retire at any time of the day, never begin till you know and feel why and wherefore you are going to pray; and let this why and wherefore, form and direct every thing that comes from you, whether it be in thought or word. As you know your own state, so it must be the easiest thing in the world to look up to God with such desires as suit the state you are in; and praying in this manner, whether it be in one, or more, or no words, your prayer will be always highly beneficial to you.——Thus praying, you can never pray in vain; but one month in the practise of it, will do you more good, make a greater change in your soul, than twenty years of prayer only by books, and forms of other peoples making.
No vice can harbour in you, no good desire languish, when once your heart is in this method of prayer; never beginning to pray, till you first see how matters stand with you; asking your heart what it wants, and having nothing in your prayers, but what the known state of your heart puts you upon demanding, saying, or offering unto God. Such a prayer gives new life and growth to all your virtues; whereas, overlooking this true prayer of your own heart, and only at certain times taking a prayer that you find in a book, you have nothing to wonder at, if you are every day praying, and yet every day sinking farther under your infirmities. For your life can only be altered by that which is the real working of your heart. And if your prayer is only a form of words, made by the skill of other people, such a prayer can no more change you into a good man, than an actor upon the stage, who speaks kingly language, is thereby made a king. Again, another great and infallible benefit of this kind of prayer is this; it is the only way to be delivered from the deceitfulness of your own heart.
Our hearts deceive us, because we are absent from them, taken up in outward things, in outward rules and forms of living and praying. But this kind of praying, which takes all its thoughts from the state of our hearts, makes it impossible for us to be strangers to ourselves. The strength of every sin, the power of every evil temper, the most secret working of our hearts, the weakness of any or all our virtues, is seen with a noon-day clearness, as soon as the heart is made our prayer-book, and we pray for nothing, but according to what we read and find there.
Academicus. O Theophilus, you have shewn me, that the best prayer in the world is that which the heart sends forth from itself. And yet I am not free from suspicions about it: I apprehend it to be that very praying by the spirit, or as moved by the spirit, or from a light within, which is condemned as Quakerism.
Theophilus. There is but one good prayer that you can possibly make; and that is a prayer as the Spirit of God moves you in it, or to it. This alone is a divine prayer; no other prayer can possibly have any communion with God. Therefore to ridicule praying by the Spirit, or as moved by the Spirit, is ridiculing the only prayer that is divine; and to reject and oppose it as a vain conceit, is to quench and suppress all that is holy, heavenly, and divine within us. For if this Holy Spirit does not live and move in us, and bring forth all the praying affections of our souls, we may as well think of reaching heaven with our hands, as with our prayers.
Earnestly therefore to pray, humbly to hope, and faithfully to expect, to be continually inspired and animated by the Holy Spirit of God, has no more of vanity, fanaticism, or enthusiastic wildness in it, than to hope and pray, to act in every thing from and by a good spirit. For as sure as the lip of truth hath told us, that there is but one that is good, so sure is it, that not a spark of goodness, nor a breath of piety can be in any creature, either in heaven or on earth, but by that divine Spirit. The matter is not about forms of virtue, rules of religion, or a prudent piety, suited to time, and place, and character; all these are degrees of goodness that our old man can as easily trade in, as in any other matters of this world. But so much as we have of an heavenly and divine goodness, so much we must have of a divine inspiration in us. For as nothing can fall to the earth, but because it has the nature of the earth in it: so nothing can ascend towards heaven, or unite with it, but that very Spirit which came down from heaven and has the nature of heaven in it. This truth therefore, that the kingdom of God is within us, and that its spirit is the Spirit of God, stands upon a rock, against which all attempts are in vain. But how shall I know when, and how far, I am led and governed by the Spirit of God?
*Theophilus. “God is unwearied patience, an ever enduring mercifulness; he is unmixed goodness, impartial, universal love; his delight is in the communication of himself, his own happiness to every thing according to its capacity. He does everything that is good, righteous, and lovely, for its own sake, because it is good, righteous, and lovely. He is the good from which nothing but good cometh, and resisteth all evil, only with goodness.” This is the nature and Spirit of God, and hereby you may know, whether you are moved and led by the Spirit of God. Here is a proof that is always at hand. If it be the earnest desire, and longing of your heart, to be merciful as he is merciful; to be full of his unwearied patience, to dwell in his unalterable meekness; if you long to be like him in universal, impartial love; if you desire to communicate every good, to every creature that you are able; if you love and practise every thing that is good, righteous, and lovely, for its own sake, because it is good, righteous, and lovely; and resist no evil, but with goodness; then you have the utmost certainty, that the Spirit of God liveth, dwelleth, and governeth in you. But if you want any of these tempers, at least if the whole bent of your heart and mind is not set upon them, all pretences to an immediate inspiration, and continual operation of the Spirit of God are vain. Where his Spirit dwells and governs, there all these tempers spring, as the certain fruits of it. Therefore keep but within the bounds here set you; and you may safely say, with St. John, Hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us.
Academicus. But surely the Spirit of God often discovers itself, and operates in very extraordinary ways, in uncommon illuminations and openings of divine light and knowledge, in strong impulses and sallies of a wonderful zeal, full of the highest gifts and graces of God: and these have frequently been God’s gracious methods of awakening a sinful world.
Theophilus. What you say, Academicus, is very true; and almost every age of the church is a sufficient proof of it.
But would you know the sublime, the exalted, the angelic, in the Christian life, see what the Son of God saith, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy mind, and with all thy strength; and thy neighbour as thyself. On these two, saith he, hang all the law and the prophets. And without these two things, no good light ever can arise or enter into your soul. Take all the sciences, shine in all the accomplishments of the lettered world, they will only lead you from one vain passion to another; every thing you send out from within you is selfish, vain, and bad; every thing you see or receive from without, will be received with a bad spirit; till these two heavenly tempers have overcome the natural perverseness of fallen nature. Till then, nothing pure can proceed from within, nor any thing be received in purity from without.
Think yourself therefore incapable of judging rightly, or acting virtuously, till these two tempers have the government of your heart. Then every truth will meet you; no hurtful error can get entrance into your heart; but you will have a better knowledge of all divine matters, than all human learning can help you to.