the poor vile trash and sordid attainment of the earth? Alas so it is; no natural man hath any true regard for God or his soul, but only for his carcass and the world.

The primitive Christians were distinguished as well for the plainness and simplicity of their manners, as for an exact frugality in all their affairs. They thought, and with great truth, that to do otherwise would be both unseemly for their profession and injurious to the poor. People, who want all for themselves, as the luxurious ever must (except in some rare cases) can have but little, if any thing, to give to him that needeth; and, what is worse, a luxurious pampered person hath usually no heart to give at all, but hath lost his bowels of compassion, through the excess and voluptuousness reigning within him. Hence it is, that the very rich and very great are commonly hard hearted; while in the middle ranks of life, both sympathy and benevolence are frequently found to lighten the load of woe. These, it is true, may be all mere nature; but they are however not the least precious remains among its ruins.

To glut the stomach, is to starve the mind; vainly to dress up the body, is to strip the soul; to appear great before men, is really to be little in the eyes of God, to be anxious for this world alone, is to lose the true enjoyment both of it and a better. Yet all these compose the grandest wisdom of this world. But can such be the object, the pursuit, the practice of a Christian? Can the pilgrim, or traveller, the stranger and sojourner upon earth, who talks of seeking a better country, and a heavenly, make it his business or delight to indulge his flesh and carnal affections in modes like these? It seems indeed a sort of burlesque upon godliness, that a creature pampered, glutted, adorned and wallowing in luxurious life, should solemnly profess meekness and lowness of mind, abstraction from a sinful world, deadness to earthly vanity, humble expectations of heaven, and a life of faith and communion with God till heaven be

attained. I am not a monk, nor monkishly inclined; but surely the modern luxury among many professors is neither the characteristic nor ornament of Christian life, and cannot from its own nature be the means appointed either to win or to wean men from mammon to God. It is indeed with pain and reluctance, that this subject is here mentioned, and especially that there is so much occasion for mentioning it, in our day and in our land. To use, and liberally to use, God's temporal mercies with humble thankfulness, is one thing; but to nourish our carnal hearts as in a day of slaughter, to live only for ourselves, and to be filled with a fulness of earth instead of God, is quite another. The apostle speaks of using the world, and not abusing it, plainly intimating the difficulty and the danger. For this reason most probably it is, that the Lord keeps the bulk of his people out of worldly snares by poverty and trouble, for which they will see more cause to thank him hereafter, than the wealthy and the great for all their riches. When the world lays heavy and close upon the heart, O with what sluggish slowness doth it mount up towards heaven!

Lord, above all thy gifts, give me thyself! I may be happy without the creatures, but I must be wretched for ever without thee. Against all my carnal affections and desires, above all my apprehensions and views, beyond all my hopes and expectations; O do thou lead me through time to eternity, and be my life, my love, my light, my Lord, and my all in all.

CHAPTER XXXV.

THERE ARE MANY FIRST, THAT SHALL BE LAST.

OUR opinion of persons and things is usually taken from outward forms and appearances; but God looketh

on the heart and spirit, which are the true and holy substantial essence or being.

What a wonderful revolution shall the day of God make upon the earth! Many high and towering professors, extolled by others and prized by themselves, shall be glad to take even the meanest and the lowest rooms, deeply thankful not to be quite thrust out of the kingdom; while some poor dejected and despised souls, who passed their days almost unknowing and unknown with respect to the world, shall shine forth as the stars in the firmament of heaven, to the surprise and astonishment of every eye.

We greatly mistake, in general, with respect to spiritual glory. It doth not consist in the splendor of gifts and talents, or any bodily exercise (as the apostle calls it) of the animal frame, but in the less glaring, though far more solid, ornament of a meek and quiet spirit; not in the attraction or admiration of men, but in the love and enjoyment of God; not in the subtle and lofty aspirings even of the inward man, but in self-abasement, simplicity, humbleness and sincerity of mind, resignation of soul to God, victory over self, and every thing else that belongs to true lowliness and profound humiliation. This is real and living glory; but not the glory of the world, or of the flesh, for these neither understand nor desire it. Alas! how little is it considered, that an outward religious act, and religion itself, are two things, very distinct and very separable! Scribes, pharisees, and hypocrites, have performed the one with the greatest care and exactness; but, all the while, were farther from the kingdom of God than even publicans and harlots: The other, consisting in divine life and inward union of the soul with Christ, is the portion and experience of none but the children of God.

We may be proud of pretended virtues; and, perhaps, it is possible to be proud even of grace itself, opposite as it is to that fallen principle of corrupted na

ture; but it is not so possible to think ourselves nothing, and to be contented with the slight and contempt of others; to prefer all God's children to ourselves, and to place our seat far below theirs; to love our meekest and our humblest thoughts, and to hate bitterly the emotions of pride, and the urgings of anger and arrogance. Yet all this is the true and solid dignity of a Christian soul, and brings it nearest to the likeness of Christ, if not nearest to his throne.

O Lord, help me to understand myself. May I wishı to see, not how great and good (as flesh would have it,) but how mean and vile, I am. Preserve me from high thoughts of myself; for these become not a sinful, dying worm, who lives every moment upon a breath of air; nor yet do they become a redeemed sinner, whose only plea must be mercy, who hath nothing of his own but sin, and who by grace alone can be saved, according to thy gift, O Lord, my God!

CHAPTER XXXVI.

IT IS THROUGH GRACE, THAT ALL ORDINANCES ARE RIGHTLY USED AND BECOME BENEFICIAL.

As there is a talent of speaking with grace, the thing s that are true and profitable; so there is a talent of hearing with grace, that those things may be received with edification. We may too often see and bewail a customary slight mode of hearing, which instead of enlivering, deadens; instead of warming, fixes the cold; instead of promoting the life of God within, only confirms the life of the flesh throughout.

Some are for hearing a variety of preachers, others a multitude of sermons; not for profit but for pleasure,

not to digest and turn the discourses into spiritual nourishment, but to satisfy the hurry and bustle of nature, which doth not love patient reflection, nor the meditating labor of the soul. To hear only and commend this, and that, and the other preacher, however excellent and gracious, is poor employment indeed, which requires very little sense, and less grace, to perform. To set up men and forget God, to be extolling one man above another, and to be ready to quarrel and abuse for the sake of one poor worm against another; is all of it nothing more, than the vileness of the carnal nature perversely crept into religious profession, and all of it equally wretched, impertinent, and vain. If this were the whole that is to be found in religion, it would not be a bad wish, that one's "life might rather be spent with philosophers."

To hear for amusement, to be delighted with flowry language, to be charmed, with action, person, manner, and voice, may do very well for the theatre or senate; but to attend upon God, to hear his word as for one's life, to be filled with the solid importance of divine things, and to carry them home in the heart for comfort and strength in the experience; this is quite another kind of business, which doth not so much engage the carnal mind or ear, as it employs the gifts, the graces, the most fervent exertions, and the holiest affections of the soul. The one is rank abuse of a sacred institution, and perverted to lull the soul asleep in carnal security, under the notion of a religious engagement: The other is finding, in the use of the means, the true advantage which the Lord intended by them.

It is better likewise to hear one sermon, and then to recollect it, to feed and ponder upon it, and to turn the matter of it into prayer, than to be present at four, five, or six in a day, as some have been, and not to be able at last to give a tolerable account of any one of them. The divine life of a Christian doth not consist in mere