The WORKS of .I '• ···'·'"" Mr. ll:ENR Y SCOUGAL ' ' : .Profdfor of ~i.vinity : { ' 1 ln the KING's CoLLEGE ABERDEEN, C 0 N T A I N I N ' G. .. The L I F E of G 0 D in the SouL of M~N; , : I • ;Or the Nature. and Excellet~c;y of the I CHRIS~'IAN RELIG·ION1 • ~ -1 · ~With nine other D I SC0 URSE S ·~ ·... . ·;·· ... • 1 .. ' ~n IMPORTAN'T $UBJE .CTS. · , ·. ·. ... ALSO" , ' I A brief Account ·of the AuTHOR's Life~ ~ and a SERf'-! oN preached at his Fun'eJ;al . 4 i by GEORGE GAIRDEN D~ D• .' . f ,. I N Tw 0 V 0 L u M E s. ' lJ.'erfeffionis ac felicitatis fummum eft-pniri Deo. ·I .. I .. ·;A_ B E R T> E E N: . . Printed by FRANcrs DouGLAs, and fold at his j :. Shop in the··Endof the Broadgate. , ·. · MDCCLIX• . ~ r·
.. . . I' :,1~ • ~ J ' . J ...
·, T H E L I F E of G 0 D I N T H . E SouL of MAN. Nly dear Friend, THIS defignation cloth give you a title to all the endeavours ·where~y I can ferve The occafioti · your Interefrs; and of this dif– your pious inclinations do fo courfe. l1appily confpire with my duty, that I ihall not need to ftep out of · 1ny ~oad to gratify you; but I nuy at once perfonn .an office of fricndihip, and difchargc an . excrcife of my funCtion, fince th'e advan– cing of virtue and holinefs (which I hope you n1 akc y our 2reatef1 ftu.dy) is the pecu– liar bufinefs of n1y employment. This therefore is the n1oflproper in!lance wherein I c1 n vent rny affection, and cx– prcfs my gratitu de t owa rds you ; and I {hall not any longer delay the perfor– n1ancc of ·the promife I n1ade 'you to tl)is purpofc. For though I know you are pro-vided with be tter helps of this nature than any I can offer you ; nor are you like to n1eet with any thing htre .which .. · A . . • ..
2 The Life of GOD you knew not before; yet I am hopeful, that what cometh from one whom you are pleafed to honour with your friendfhip, and which is n1_ore particular!y ddigned for your ufe, will be kindly accepted by you; and G?d's providence perhaps may fo direct my thoughts, that fomething or other may prove nieful to you. · Nor !hall 1 doubt your pardon, if, for n1oulding my difcourfe into the better frame, I lay a l'ow foundation, begining w.ith the na– ture and properties of religioh, . and all along give fuch way to my thoughts, in the profecution of the fubjeEt, as may , bring tne to fay many things whic:h were not neceffary, did I only confider to whon1 I am writing. · I-cannot fpeak of religion, but I mull: · . , lament, that, among fo nuny M1ll:akes a~ J • r c d b . 1· ·on ·pretenuers to It, 10 rew un erout re 1g1 • ·· fiand what it means: fome placing it in the underfianding, in· ortho– dox nt)[ions and opinions ; and all the account they can give of their religion is that they a_re of this or the o~her perfua~ fion, and J1ave joined themfelves to one ·of thofe many {ccrs wherein to Chriften– dom is moft unhappily divided. Others plac , it in the outward man, in a conftant . .courfe of - extern~! duties, and a model of .....'--..:.<f.l · pefonuances :
. . t tt the Soul. of lv!atJ• · ,- performances: if they live peaceably ·with · their neighbours, keep a tcn1perate ~ict, · obferve the returns of \vorfhip; frequent- · ing the church, or their clofet, and fOJne– times extend their hands to the relief of· the poor, they think they have fufficiently acquitted thenift?lves. Others again put all religion in the affecrions, in rapturous..– I1eats and ecfbtic devotion ; and all they ai~11 at, is to pray.with pafiion, and think of heaven_ v1ith plcafure, · and to be af– feCted With ·thoie kjnd and melting expreffions _-· \vherewith -they court" their Saviour, · till they pcrfuade the1l1felves that " . they are n1ightily in love with hin1; and fr9m thence affume a grea·t confidence of their falvation, which they efteen1 the chkf of Chriftian graces. ~rhus are thefe things which have any refemblance o£ piety, and at the befi are but tneans of obtaining it, or particular exercifes of it, 'frequently ,. n1ifiaken for · the whole of religion; nay fometilnes wickednefs and vice pretend to tpat nan1e. I fpeak not now of thofe grofs impieties wherewith the Heathens were wont to wodhip their gods. There are but too many ChriH:ians, \vho would confecrate .their vices, and hallow their corrupt affecrions; who1e rugged hun1our, and ft1llen pride mu ft pats for Chrifl:ian " A 2 fevcrity
4 T'he Life of GOD feverity; whofe fierce wrath and bitter . ' rage aga1nl1 their enemies, mull: be called holy .zeal; whofe petulancy towards their fupenors, or rebellion againfi: their gover– nors, 111ufl: have the name of Chrifl:ian courage and refolution. "'<!ilh 1• But certainly rdig:ion i·s q. uitc n at re 1· • ._, givn is. another thmg; and they who are acquainted with it, will en– tertain far different thoughts, and difdain all thofe ihadows and falfe imitations of it, They know by experience, that true reli– gion is an union of the foul with God, a real participation of the divine na,ture, the very image of God drawn upon the foul; or, in the Apoftle's pht~afe, it is Chrifl firmed within us. Briefly, I know not /how the nature of religion can be n1ore fully expreifed than by calling it a di,..uine life. And under th.efe terms I ihall dicourfe of it; ihewing firfi: how it is called a lije, and then how it is termeq divine. Tt I chufe to exprefs it by the · ~ s permar f n~ncy _and name of life; firfl:, becatuc o !lability.. its permanency and fi:ability. Religion is not a fudden ~art, or p~ffion of the; 111ind ; not though 1t ihould nfc to the heioht of a rapture, and feen1 to tranf– port a ~1an to exttaordinary peformances. There are few but have conviet:ions of the · heceffity
i12 the Sc·nl of lvlan. 5 . neceffity ()f doing fon1ething for the fal– vation of thcir fouls, \V hieh may pu1h thein forward fome ficps v: ith a great deal of feeming haftc. But anon they 'flag and give over: they were in a hot n1ood, but now they arc cooled: they did .!hoot forth freih and high, but are qr:ickly withered, becaufe thev had no root in themfelves-. "' Thefe fudden fits n1ay be con1pared to the violent and convulfive n1otions of bodies newly beheaded, ·caufed by the agitations of the anin1al fpirits, after the foul is de– parted; which however violent and impe– tuous, can be E>f no long continuance: whcl'eas trye motions of holy fouls are confiant and regular, proceeding fro1n a permanent and lively principle. It is true, this divine life con tin ueth not· ahvays in that fame firength and vigour, but n1any tin1es fuffers fad decays; and holy n1en find greater difficulty in refifiing ten1pta– tions, and lt{s abcrity in the performance of their duties; yet it is_not quite extin– guifhed, nor are they abandoned to the power of thofc corrupt affeCtions . whi eh fway and over-rule the reft of the world. Again, religion n1ay be deIt f d · · s ree om figned by the nameof lift, be- and uncon· caufe it is an inward free and ftrainednds. ' ' fdf-1uoving principle; and thofe who have _ A 3 111ade~
6 The Lift ~f GOD n1ade progrefs in it, are not aCted 0'1ly by external n1otives, driven merely by threa– tenings, nor bribed by promifes, nor con- . firained by laws; but are powerfully in– clined to that which is good, and delight in the performance of it. The love '\vhich a pious n1an bears to God and good– n~fs, is not fo n1uch by virtue of a con1mand injoining him fo to do, as by a new nature infirucring and promp ting him to it: nor cloth he pay his devotion as an un– avoidable tribute only t~) appcafe the divine jufl:icc, or quiet his clamorous con– fcience; but thofe religious excrcifes are the proper emanations of the divine life, the natural en1ployment of the new-born foul. I-Ie prays, gives thanks, and re– pents, not only becaufe thefe things, are con1manded, but rather becaufe he is fcn– fible of his wants, and of the divine good– n efs, and of the folly ahd mifery of a finful lif-e. His charity is not forced, nor his alms extorted from him: his loye 1nakcs hin1 willing to give; and though there · were no outward obligation, his heart would de7Jije liberal things. · Inju– fiice or intemperance; and all other vices, are as contrary to his tt:mper and confl:i– tution, as the bafetl: actions are to the mofr generous fpirit, ~nd impudence and fcurrility ..
in the Soul oj" .L"\11an. 7 fcurrility to thofe who are naturally nlo– defl:: fo that I may well fay with St. John *, Whqfoever is born of God dotk not commit fin j for his feed remaineth ·;n him; and he ran11ot fin becaufe he is born of God. Though holy and religious perfons do much eye the law of God, and have a great regard to it; yet it is not fo n1ueh the fanction of the law, as its reafonable– ncfs, and purity, arid goodnef~, :which do prevail with then1 ~· they account it excel– lent and deGrable in itfelf, an'd that in keeping of it there is great reward; and that divine love wherewith they are acted " n1akes then1 become a law unto then1fdves. ~is legem det amantibus? Major efl amor lex ipjeJibi. \:Vho !hall prefcribe a law to thofe that love? Love's a more pow~rful law which doth them move. In a word, what our bleffed Saviour faid of hin1felf, is in fon1e n1eafure appli– C"1ble to his followers, that it r's their meat and drink to do t!Je,r fother' J. will t: · and as the natural appetite is carried out to– ward food, though we ihould not fC'fleCl: on the neceffity of it for the -prefervation of our lives; fo are they earned with a · natural ' ~ ;t John iii. 9• t John iv. 34~
8 The Lift of GOD natural and · unforced .propenfion toward that which is good and commendable. It is true, external n1otives· arc n1any times of great ufe to excite and flir up this in– ward principle, efpecially in its it1fancy and weaknefs, when it is often fo languid, that the n1an hin1fdf can fcarce difcern it, hardly being able to n1ov~ one fiep for– ·ward, but when he is pu.fhed by his hopes, or his fears; by the preifure of an affliCti– on, or the fenfe of a n1e'rcy; by the autho– rity of the law, or the pcrfuafion of oth– ers. Now, if fuch a perfon be confcienti– ous and ·uniforn1 in his obedience, and earnefl:lygroaningunder the fenfeof hisdul.– nefs, and is defirous to perform his duties with n1ore fpirit and vigour ; tb efe are the firft motions of the divine life, which, thoi1gh it be faint and weak, will furdy be cherifhed by the influences of heaven, and grow unto great<;r maturity. But he who is utterly defl:itute of thi s inward prin– ciple, and clothnot afpire unto it, but con– ten~s 11imfelf with thofe performances whereunto he is prompted by education or cuftom, by the fear of hell, or carnal notions o f heaven, C?-11 no more be accoun- -:- ted a reli gious perfon, than a puppet can be called a 111an. This forced and artifi.. · dal religion is comn1only heavy and languid;
-. i11 tbe Soul of Mm1. 9 guid, like the n1otion of a \veight forced npward: it is cold and fpiritlefs, like the uneafy cotnpliance of a wife married againfl: her will, who carries it dutifully toward the hu:fband whon1 ihe cloth not love, out of fome fenfe of virtue or honour. Hence alfo this religion is fcant and niggardly, efpecially in thofe duties which do greateft violence to mens carnal inclinations; and thofe flaviili fpirits. will be fure to do no more, than is ab!olutely required: it is a law that cotnpells then1, and they will be loth to go beyond what it fiints then1 to, nay, they will ever be putting fuch gloffes on it, as n1ay leave then1felves the greatefi: liberty: whereas the fj)irit of true religion is frank and liberal, far fron1 fuch peeviih and narro\v reckoning; and he who hath given hin1felf entirely unto God, will ne– ver think he cloth too tnuch for hin1. By this tin1e I hope it cloth appear, that religion is with a ~reat deal . of Religion a reafon tern-.~ed a lift, or vttal divine prin– principle; and that it is very cipfe. neceifary to difiinguifh betwixt it, and that obedience which is confhained, and de– pends O!l external caufes. I con1e next to give an accoqnt why I defigned it by the n~tne of divi11e life. And fo it n1ay be called, not only in regard of its fountain .) and
to The Life oJG.QD and original, having God for its author, and being wrought in the' fouls of n1en by the power of his Holy Spirit; but alfo in regard of its nature, religion being a re– femblance of the divine p.erfecrions, the i1nage of the Almighty fhining in the foul ofman: nay it is a real participation of his nature; it is a beam of the eternal light, a drop of that infinite ocean of goodnefs, and they who are endued with it, may be faid to have God dwelli1zg in their fouls, and Chrifl .(on11ed within them. Before I dcfcend to a more particular confiderat~on of the divine life wherein true religion cloth confifr, it will perhaps - be fit to fpeak a little of that What thena1 · ·Il'f' I · h turallife is. natura or antma 1 e w 11c pre- _,.. vails in-thofe who are frrangers to the other. And by this I underfland nothing elfe, but our inclination and pro– penfion towards thofe things which are pleafing and acceptable to nature; or [elf– love ifiuing forth and fpreading itfelf into as n1any branches as men have feveral ap– petites and inclinations. The root and foundation of the animal life I reckon to be fenje, taking it largely, as it is oppofed unto faith, and importeth our . perception and fenfation of things that are either grate– ful or troublefome to us. Now, thefe animal .
in the Soul of Man. I r nimal affeCtions confidered in themfelves, and as they are implanted it'l us by nature, are not vitious or blameable; nay, they . are inftances .- of the vvifdon1 of the creator furnifhing his creatures with fuch appetites as tend to the prefervation and welfare of their lives. Thcfe are inftead of a law un– to the brute be~fts, whereby they ·are di– rected towards the ends for which they were made. But man, being made for higher purpofes, and to. be guided by more . excellent laws, becoti1es guilty and crin1inal 1"hen he is fo far tranfported by the incli– nations of this lower life, as to violate his · duty, or negleCt (he higher and more noble · deGgns of h-ts creation. Our natural af– fections are not wholly to be extirpated and ddl:royed, but only to be n1odcra.ted and over ruled by a fuperior and n1ore ex– cdlcnt principle... In a word, the diffe– rence betwixt a religious and wicked man, is, that in the one the divine life bears fway, in the other the anin1al life cloth prevail. But it is flrangc to obf~, r~e unto what different courfes this J,atural T h• d:fFcrent principle will foln ." times carry tenc!e :cics of thofe who are wholly guided the natmal b . .J • J hie• .Y 1t, accnr~; t Pg to t 1e divers circUJ.nitances that concur with it to d ~ u~r-
I2 The Life of GOD mine then1: and the not corifidering this, cloth frequently occafion very dangerous n1ifiakes, making men think well oftheln– felves by reafon of that feeming difference ·which is betwixt them and others; where– as perhaps their actions do all the while . flow fron1 one and the fame original. If we confider the natural temper and con– fiitution of mens fouls, we fhall find fome to be airy, frolickfom, . and light, which 1nakes their behaviour extravagant and ri– diculous ; whereas others are naturally fe– rions and fevere, and their whole carriage compofed into fuch gravity as gains ~hen1 a great deal of reverence and efieem. Son1e are of an hun1orous, rugged, and morofe temper, and can neither be pleafed ·rhenl– fel)!eS, nor endure that others fhould be fo. But all are not born with fuch four and unhappy difpofitions; for fome per– fan)) have a certain fweetnefs and benigt1ity · rooted in the1r natures, and they find the grcat.eft pleafure .in the e11dearments of fo-:– ciety, and the mutual complacency of friends, and covet nothing more than to have every body obliged to them. And it is \vell that .nature hath provided this con1plexional tendernefs to fupply the de– fect of true charity in th-e world, and to incline tnen to do fon1ething for one apother's
rn the Soul of Man. 13 ther's welfare. Again, in r~gard of edu– cation, fome have never been taught to follow any other rules, than thofe of plea~ fure or advantage: but others are fo i·n .... ured to obferve the firicrefl: rules of decen-– cy and honour, and fon1e infiances of virtue, that they are hardly capable of doing any thing which they have been accufiomed to look upon as baie and unworthy. . In fine, , it _is no fi11all difference in the deportment of mere natural men, that cloth arife fron1 the firength or weaknefs of their \Vit or judgtnent, and fron1 their care or negligence in ufing then1. Inte1nperance · and lufl:, inju"fiice and oppreffion, and all thofe other in1pieties which abound in the \vorld, and render it fo miferable, are t··he ilTues of felf-love, the effect of the animal life; when it is· neither overpo\vered by · religion, nor governed by natural reafon. But if it once take hold of reafon, and get judgment an-d wit to be ofits party, it will many tin1·es difdain the grofler fort of vices, and fpring up unto fair imitations ofvirtue and goodnefs. If a man have but fo much reafon as to confider the· prejudice ·Which intemperance and inordinate· lufl: do bring unto his health, his fortune, and his reputation, fclf love 1nay fuffice B to
14 The Lift of GOD to refhain hitn; and one may obferve the rules of n1oral juftice in dealing with o– thers, as the befl: way to fecure his own interdl:, and n1aintain his credit in the world. But this is not all. This natural principle, by the help of reafon, may take a higher flight, and come nigher the in– fiances of piety and religion. It may in– cline a n1an to the diligent fiudy of divine truths; for why 1hould · not thefe, as well as other fpeculations, be pleafant and grateful to curious and inquifitive n1inds? It n1ay make men zealous in maintainbg and propagating fuch opinions as they have efpoufed, and be very ddirous that others fhould fubmit unto their judgment, and approve the choice of religion which th~n1felves have 1nade. It tnay ri1ake them delight to hear and compofe excel– lent difconrfes about the 111atters of religi– on; for eloquence is very pleafant what– ~ver be the fubjecr. Nay, fome it may · difpofe to no fi11all height of fen(lble devo– tion. . 'The glorious things that are fpok– en -of heaven, 1nay 1nake even a carnal l1Cart in love with it; the metaphors and fimilitudes 1nade ufe of in fcripture, of crowns and fceptres, and rivers of plea– fure, 6Y. will eafily affeCt a n1an's fancy, and 111akc hin1 wifu to be there, though he
... in the Soul of Mm1. I 5 he neither underfiand nor defire' thofc fpiritual pleafures which are defcribed and / fhadowed forth by tben1; and ·when· fuch a perfon comes to believe that Chrifi has purchafcd thofe glorious things for hin1, he may feel a kind f>f tendernefs and af– fection towards fo great a benefactor, and in1agine that he is mightily enamoured with hin1, and yet all the while continue a {hanger to the holy temper and fpirit of the bldfed Jefus. And what hand the natural conHitution tn ay have in th e nlptu– rous devotion of iome melancholy pcrfons, hath been excellently difcovered oF late by fcvcral learned and judicious pens. tro conclude: 1'berc ls nothing prot>er to n1ake a n1an's life pleafant, or hin lfdf eminent and con~)icuous in -the world, but this natural pnnciple, affiftpd by 'w,ir a1: d reafon, rnay prornpt him to it. f\nd though I do not conden1n thcfe thinQ"s in thon- ~~ _felves; yft it conce rns us nearly to kno,w and confider their nature, both that we may keep within due bounds, and alfo that \Ve may learn never to value ourfclves on the account of fuch attainments, nor by th e fhefs of religion upon our natural appetl. t~"S or 1''' 1" (u"'·t·J·-,," · 1~. re· c • '-' _} \....A.l ~ .!tJl.i. j_. u • .. B ::. It
.16 The Life if GOD "\tVherein the It is now time to return to divi~~ lifedoth the confideration of that divine conuu. lij h f I .J• r r. . 1 ·e vv ereo was uncournng before; that lift "which is hid with Chrifl in God, . and therefore bath no glorious fhew or appearance in the world, and to the natural n1an will feen1 a n1ean and in– fi pid notion. As the ·Anin1al life -conft– fieth in that narrow and confined love ·which is terminated on a man·'s felf, and in his propenfion towards thofe things that are pleafing to nature; fo the divine life fi ands in an univerfal and unbounded af– feCtion, and in the mafiery over our natu– ral inclinations, that they may never be able to betray us t() thofe things which we know to be blameable. trhe root of the divine life is faith; the chief branches are, love to God, charity to man , purity, and h umility: for (as an excellent perfon bath ' vell obferved) ho\vever thefe names be comn1on and vulgar, and n1ake no extra– ordinary found; yet do they carry fuch a n1ighty fenfe, that the tongue of 1nan or angel can pronounce nothing more weighty or excellent. Faith hath the fan1e place in the divin~ life which fe.nfe .bath in the; natural, being indeed nothing elfe but a kind of fenfe, or feeling perfuafion of [pi– ritual things. It extends itfdf unto all .divme \.
. I • in the Soul of "A1an.· 17 vine truths ; but, in our lapfed eftate, it bath a peculiar relation to the declarati- .,.. ons of God's 1nercy and reconcileablenefs to finners through a Mediator; and there– fore, receiving its denotnination from that principal objecr, is ordinarily termed faith irt Jefus Chrtjl. · The love of God is a delightful and af– fectionate fenfe of the . divine perfecrions, which makes the foul refign and facrifice , itfelf wholly un~o hin1, defiring above all things to pleafe him, and delighting in no– thing fo tnuch as in fellowfhip and com– munion with hin1, and being ready to do or fuffer any thing for his fake, or at his pleafure. 1 'hough this affecrion n1ay have its firfl: rife from the favours and n1ercies of God towards ourfdves, yet cloth it in its growth and progrefs tranfcend fuch par– ticular confiderations, and ground itfelf on his infinite goodnefs ri1anifefl:ed in all the works of creation and providence. A foul · thus poildfed with divine love, muft needs . , be enlarged towards all mankind .in a fin– cere and unbounded affecrion, becaufe of the relation they have to God, being his creature~, and having fomething of his image fiamped upon them. And this is that charity .I named as the fecond branch of religion, and under whieh all the parts - B 3 of
r8 The Life of GOD .of juftice, all the duties we owe to our i1eighbour, are eminently .comprehended: for he who doth truly love all ·the world, :will he nearly concerned in the interef1 of every one; and fo far fron1 wronging or injuring any perfon, that hewill refent any evil that befa]s ot~crs, as if it h::~ppencd ~o l1imfclf. · By puri!y, I underfiand a due abfiraet-ed– nefs fron1 the body, and n1aflery over the inferior appetites ; or fuch a ten1per and ~Jifpofition of n1ind, as n1akcs a man de– ipiie and abflain from all pleafures and de..: lights of fcnfe or fancy which are finhil in themfdves, or tend to extinguiih or ldfen our rcliili of more divine and intellectual p1cafures wbich cloth alfo infer a refolute– nefs to undergo all thafc hardfhips he tnay n1ect vlith in the performance of his duty. So th:?:t not only chaflity and temper::mce, but alfo chriftian couq.ge and magnanimity n1ay come under this head. Iiurnili ty imports a deep fenfe of our own meannds, with a hearty and affeCli– onatc acknowledgment of our owing all that we are to the divitie bounty; which is always accompanied with a profound fubmiffion to the will of God, and great deadncfs towards the glory of the world, and applaufe of n;en. Thefe
in the Soul of lvlan. 19 Thefe arc the higheft perfections that either n1en or .angels are capable of, the very foundation .of heaven laid in the foul. And he who bath attained then1, · needs not defire to pry in to the hidden rolls of God's decrees, or fearch ,the volumes of l1eaven, to know what is detern1ined ab-out his everlafiing conditiori; but he may find a copy of God's thoughts concerning hiln written in his own breafi. 1-Iis love to God n1ay give him a!furance of God's fa- . vour to him; and thofe beginnings of hap– pinefs which he feels in the confotn1ity of the powers of his foul to the nature of God, and compliance with his will, are a fure pledge that his felicity ihall be per– feCted, and continued to all eternity. And it is not without rcafon that one faid, I had rather fee the real impr~(fion if a God– like nature upon my own flul, than have a ,. vijion from beavt:n, qr at1 angel ftnt to tell me that my name 'were inrolled in the book of l~fe. When we have faid all that we can, the fecret n1yfl:eries of a new nad d . . 1. c Religion bet." ture an IVIne ne can never ter underbe fufficiently exprefied; lanftood by ac– guage and vvords cannot reach tions than by h words. t en1 ; nor can they be truly underfiood but by thofe fouls that are inkindlcd
2o The Life if GOD irikindled within, and awakened unto the fenfe and relifh of fpiritual things. There is a JPirit in man, and the injpir&tion of the Almighty giveth this underflanding. The power and life of religion tnay be better expreffed ic actions than in words; · becaufe actions are. n1ore lively things, and do better reprefent the inward prin– ciple whence they proceed: and therefore we may take the beft meafure of thofe . graciouS' endown1ents ·from the deport– ment of thofe in whom they refide; efpe– cially as they are perfectly exe1nplified in the holy life of our bleffed Saviour; a main part of whofe bufinefs in this world, was, to teach by his practice what he did re· quire of others, and to n1ake his own convcrfation an exact refemblance of thofe unparallelled rules which he prefcribed: fo that if ever true goodnefs was vifible to mortal eyes, it was then- when his pre– fence did ·beautify andi llufirate this lower world. I That fincere and devout i)ffeetion D . . 1 wherewith his bleffed foul did, tvme ove exemplified confiantly burn towards his· in our Savi- heavenly Father, did exprefs. o~r. itfelf in an entire rcfignation to his 'will. It was this was his very tneat, to .do the will, and ji1ti}h the work of him - that
in the Soul of M an. 21 that je11t him. ~his ,was the exercife of his childhood, an~ th~ confiant His diligence employn1ent of h1s nper age. in doingHe fpared no travail or pains God's will. while he \vas about his Father's bu!inefs, · but took fuch infinite content and fatif– fattion in the performance of it, that when, being faint and weary with his .journey, he rdl:ed hitnfelf on Jacob' s well, and intreated water of the Samaritan wo– Jnan, the. fuccefs of his conference with her, and the acceffion that was n1ade to the kingdotn of God, filled his n1ind with fuch delight, as feen1ed to have redounded to his very body, refreihing his fpirits, and n1aking hin1 forget the thirfl: whereof he complained before, and refufe the meat \vhich he had fcnt his difciples to buy. Nor was he lefs patient . . d fi b ·m . r_ .er • h H1s pattence an U 1111 rVe 111 lUuertHg t .e in bearing it. will of God, than diligent in doing of it. He endured the iharpeft af– fliCtions and extremefl: n1iferies that ever 1 · \vere infliCted on any mortal, without a repining t~1ought, or difcontented word. For though he was far tron1 a fl:upid in– fenfibili ty, or a phantafl:ick or fioical ·ob– fiina\;y, and had as quick a fenfe of pain as other men, and the deepefi apprehen– fion of what he was to fuffer in his foul, (as
22 The Life of GOD (as his btoody fiveat, an0 the fore amaze– ment and jorro7JJ ·which he prof'cifed, do abundantly declare); yet did he entirely fubn1it to that fevere difpenfation of pro– vidence, and willingly acquicfccd in it. And he prayed to God, that if' it were p~fjible (or as one of the Evangeliits hath it, if !Je ·were 'willing) that cup f7:. ~£!.h! be remo7.Jed; yet he gently added, Neverthe– lejs, no-t my 'wilt, but .thiJte be done. Of what firange i1nportance are the exprcf– fions, John xii. 2 7·? . where be firfi ac– knowledgeth the anguifh of his fpirit, Now is my foul truubled; which would feen1 to produce a kind of demur, And . what jhall I jay? and then he goes to de- · precate his fuiferings, }~ather firue -me fr )m tbis hour; whieh he had no fooner uttered, but he doth as it were,. on fccond thoughts, rec ::d it, in thefe words; But fir this cauje rarne I into the 7JJorld; and concludes, Father g·lorifj thy 12c1me. Now, we n1uft not look on this as any levity, or blameable weaknefs in the bleifed J e– fus. He knew all along what he was to fuffer, and did moft refolutely undergo it. But it thews us the unconceivable 'veight and pre!fure that he was to bear ; which, being fo affliCting, and contrary to nature, he could not think 6f without terror: yet
tn the Soul of Man. 23 '· · yet, conG.dering the will of God, and the glory which was to redound to him fron1 thence, he vvas not only content, but de– firous to fuffer it. . l\nother infl:ance of his love fl . G d 1 . d 1. l . His· conaant to o , vvas 11s e. tg)t 111 con- devotion• . verfing with him. by prayer; which n1ade him frequently retire hin1felf fro1n the world, anq with the greatefl: devotion and pleafure fpend whol~ nights injthat heavenly exercifc, though he had no fins to confefs, and but few fecular interefts to pray for; whieh alas! are al– mofl: the orily things thJt are wont to drive us to our devotions. Nay, we may fay his whole life was a kind of prayer, a confl:ant courfe of communion with God; if the facrifice was not always of– fering, yet was the fire fEll kept alive: nor .vvas- ever the hleifed J eD.l s · furprifcd with that ·dulnefs or tepidity of (oirit which we mufl: n1any tirr:.es wrd He vvirh~ before we . can be .fit for the exercife of devotion. In the ficond place, I ihould fjJeak of his love and charity towards all . . tnen. But he who would ex:- His chanty to r. • . ll. r "b 1 men. pre1S lt, 111 Ull traOICrl e t 1C hifl:ory of the gofpel, and co1nn1ent upon it: for fcarce any thing is recorded to have been done or fpoken by hi1n, which was .not
24 The Life of G-OD not defigned for the good and advantage of fon1e one o-r other. All his n1iraculous works were inftances of his goodnefs, as well as of his power; and they benefited thofe on whom they were wrought, as . well as they atnazed, the beholders. His charity was not confined to his kindred or rdations ; nor was all his kindnefs fwal... lowed up in the endeannents of that pe– culiar friendfhip which he carried towards the beloved difciple, but every one was his friend who obeyed his holy commands, John xv. 14.; and whoflever did the will ofhis Father, the fame was to hin1 as his brother, and fiJler, and mother. Never was any unwelcome to him who came with an hondt intention; nor did he deny any requeft which tended to the good of thofe that aiked it. So that what was fpoken of the Roman En1peror, whon1 for his goodnefs they called the darling of mankind, was realy perforn1ed by htm; that never any departed from hirn with a heavy countenance, except that rich youth, M ark x. who was fi)rry to hear that the kingdon1 of heaven fiood at fo high a rate, and that he could not fave his foul and his n1oney too. And certainly it troubled our Saviour, to fee that when a price was in his hand to get wifdon1, yet he had no heart
ilt the Soul of M aJt. 25 heart to it. The ingenuity that appeared in his firfi addrefs hid already procured fo1ne kindnefs for him ; for it is faid, A11d Jejus beholding him, loved him. But tnufl: he for his fake cut out a ne\v way to hea– ven, and alter the nature of things, which n1ake it i.mpoffible that a covetous rnan fhould be happy ? And what !hall I fpeak of his meek– nrfs, who could encounter the mc>nfhous ingratitude and di!fimulation . oF that mif– crcant who betrayed him, in no h~rfher . terms than this, Judas, betrayefl thou the San o; man with a k[fs? What further· e– vidence could we defire of his fervent and unbounded charity, than that he willingly laid down his life even for his moft bitter enemies; and, n1ingling his prayer~ with his blood, befought the Father that his death n1ight not ·be laid to their charge, but n1ight t-,ccon1e the n1eans of eternal life to thofe very perfons \\ ho procured it ~ 'rhe third branch of the divine life is Puritv j which, as I f.:1id, con J His purity.. fifis in a negleCt of worldy en- .. joyments and accommodations, and a re..:' folute enduring of all fuch troubles as we n1ect with in the doing of our duty. Now; furely, if ever any perfonwas wholly dead to all the pleafures of the natural life, ~t c .
26 'The Life o.f GOD was the bleifed J efus, who feldonl. taflcd then~ ·when they ~caH1e in his way, butne– ver ftepped out of his road. to fcck them. Though he allowed others the .comforts of wedlock,. and honoured n1arriage with his prefence; yet he .chofe the fevcrity of a virgin life, and· never knew the nuptial bed; and though at the fa:11e tin1c he [up– plied the 'vant of wine with a miracle, yet he woul'd not work one for ·the relief of his own hunger in the wilderncfs: fo gra– cious and divine was the temper .of his foul, allowing to others fuch lawful gratificati– ons a.s himfelf thought good to abH:ain from, and fuprlying not only their n1orc extreme and preiling neceilitics, but alfo their i111all and lefs confiderable wants. We many times hear of our Saviour's fighs, and groans, and tears; but never that he · laughed, and but once that he rejoiced in fpirit; · fo that through his whole life he did exactly anfwer that charaCter given of biin by the prophet of old, that he was G m111 ~jjorrows, und acquainted with grief. Nor were the troubles and difaccommoda– tions or his li feather than matters o f choice. Fur nev-.: r did there any appear on the fiage o t the \vorld with greater advantages to have r a i~: d hL11felf to the high~..fl fecula~ fd!oty. I-Ie who could bring together fuch a
'. in the Soul of Ma,~. a prodigious number of fi.lhes into his dif ... ciples net, and at another tin1e receive that tribute fron1 a · fifh which he \vas to pay to the ten1ple, n1ight eafrly ha·ve n1ade hin1fclf the richeft pcrfon of the world. Nay, v;ithou t any n1oncy he could have n1ain– tained an ,arm·y powerful enough to bav<:! jufHed Cr:ejar out of his throne; having oftner than once fed feveral thoufands wirh a few loaves and fi11all fiihcs . But· to fhew how fi11all eHcen1 he had o f all the cnjoy111cnts of the world, he chofe to live in fo poor and mean a condi<tion, that thuugh t!Jefoxes had holes, aNd the birds of the air ' · had 11ejis, y·et he who was ford rmd hfl /r of all things, had not whereon to lay his head. He did not frequent the courts of princes, - nor affect the acquaintance· and converfe· of great ones; but, being reputed the fon of a carpenter, he had fiihermen and fl_,ch other poor people for his con1panions, and· lived at fuch a rate as fuitcd with the n1ean– ncfs of that condttion. · And thus .I an1 brought unawares to fpeai~ of his /;u;n,fi!J', the laft branch His humility. of the divine life; 'vhercin he . was a moH: eminent patcrn unto us, that we n1ip-ht lea·rn of IJn'i'l to be tNeek ~md io?lJo J . • fy in heart. I iJ- all not now fpcak of that infinite condefcenfit.~n of the eternal Son C 2 ~ of
. ·- ·""f . ~ 28 The Life of GOD of God, in taking our nature upon hin1 ; but only reflect on our Saviour's lowly and humble deportment while he was in the world. He had none of thofe fins and imperfections which may jufily hun1ble the beft of men; but he was fo entirely fwallow.ed up with a deep fenfe of the in– finite perf etlions of God, that he appeared as nothing in his own eyes, I mean, fo far as he' was a · creature. He confidered thofe eminent perfecrions which fhined in l1is bleffed foul, not as his own, but the gifts of God ; and therefore affumed no– thing to himfdf for them, but with the profound~it humility renounced all pre– tences to them. Hence did he refufe that ordinary com.Pcllation ofgood majler, when addrdfcd to his human nature by one who ir feems was ignorant of his divinity: .Why calte(l thou me good? thtre is none goad, /Jut God on!y : As if he had faid, The goodnefs of any creature (and fuch only thou takeft me to be) is n'ot worthy to be na.med or taken noti<;e of; ir is God alone who is originally and ctfentially good. He never h1:1de ufc of his miraculous power for vanity or ofl:entation. He would f'Ot gr~ ri y ti1c curiofity of the Je·ws with a fign from heaven, fon1e prodigious appea– rance in the air: nor would he follow the advice
-~ . if! the Soul o.f Man; 29 advice of ' his countrymen and ' l<indred, vvho would have had all ·ll.is great works performed in the eyes of the world, for gaining him the greater fame.· But when his charity had prompted him to 't:he re– lief of the rr1iferable, his hmnility made l1im many ti 11es injoin the conccaltnent of the miracle; and when the glory of God, and the dd'ign for which he came into the world, required the publication ~f therp,_ he afcribeth the honour of all to his Fa– ther, telling them, that of himjej he was ab/e to do nothing. _ I cannot infitt on all the in11ances of humility i'n his deportn1enr towards men ; his withdrawing himfelf when they would " have made him a king, his fubjccrion not only to his bldfed mother, but to her huf– band, during his younger years; and his – fubmiilion to all the indignities and af– fronts which his rude and malicious ene– n1ies did put upon hin1. The l!i11ory of his holy life, recorded by thofe who con– v~.:rfed with him, is full of fuch paffages as thtJe. · And indeed the ferious and at– tentive fiudy of it, is the bdl way to get right meafures of hu-mility, and all the oth~r pJns of religion whieh I have bLcn endeavouring to detcribe• . C 3 .. ·. But ...
_; '. 30 The Life of GOD But now, that I tnay leflen your trouble of reading a letter, by making fome paufes in it, let n1e here fubjoin a prayer that might be proper when one who had for– n1erl y entertained fame falie notions of religion, begins to difcover what it is. · A PRAY E ·R. I Nfini!f and eternal Majefly, author ·an·d fountain of being and blejfednejs, how . little do we poor (iujul creatures know of' – thee, or the way to fer7Je and p t'eq(e thee·! l!7e talk of religion, and pretend tmto it: but a1as ! how Jew are there that know and confider rz,vhat it memzs! I-Iow ea_fily do we rniflake the ajfoflions ofour na.ture, and i_f foes of j elf-love, .for thofi di ,vine grace.F ~which alo1;e can rBnder us acceptable in thy fig·ht.! It 77UI.J jziflly <-[[,rie'"ue nie, to confider, that l _f!Jott .'d have wandered fo long, and contented rny Jeffl often r-u.;ith va111 fladows rmd jalje imat, es of piety a.nd religifJn: yet I caimo:t~ but ackno·wledg·e ·andadore thy good"– nejs:, ?.JJhrJ ha_(f,been pleajed in j6me mea/ure , to rjpen rnine eyes, and fetrr..e jee -what it i.J at rz,vhich I eught fr; aim. I rejoice · to con– fider w,hat mzf!,hty improvements m_,Y nature is capable of, and what a di·vine temper of j (j;ir.it dojhine in thofe whom thou art plea[- . ed ""
in tht Sottl of M an. 3 I · . ed to chuft, and caz~/efl to aproach tt11to thee-. B le/Jed be thine infinite mercy, 711ho fintefl thine own Son to dv./e I mnong men, and inJlruil the;,z by his exarnple as ·well aJ his la'ws, g iv ing· them a perfe8 patent of what th~y ought to be. 0 that the holy life of ' ~. the blejfed Jefus may be always in my thoughts, and before mine eyes, tilf I re– ceh;e a deep fin le and impre(jion of thofi ex– cellentgraces thatjhined fi eminently in him; and let me never cea/e nry endeavours till . ,_that new and druine nature prevail in tr':7 ·foul~ and Chrifl beffJrmed 'withitt me. AND now, -my dear. friend, having dif:.. covered the nature of true religion, before I proceed any further, it will not perhaps. be unfit t6 fix our me- The e~cei. ditations a little on the excellencyand ad– lency and advantages of it; that vantage of b - religion. we may e excited to the n1ore vigorous and diligent profecution of thofe· · methods whereby we n1ay attain fo: great a felicity. But alas! what ~ords .fhall we find to exprefs that inward fatisraetion~ . ttofe hidden plea.fu.res which ea n never he rightly underftood , but by thofe holy fouls who feel them? A flranger h1termedd-eth not with th.eir joy *· .Holinefs is the right ten1pcr • Prav. xiv. IO·. .J /
·"' 32 The Lift of GOD temper the vigorous and heahhful confii– tution of the fi)ul. Its f~culties had been formerly enfeebled and difordcred, fo that they could not excrcite thdr natural fm~crions ; it had wearied itfdf with end– lcfs toflings and rollings, and was never able to find any reft: now, thar diltemper being removed, it feds itk h . well; there is a due harmony in irs faculties, ~nd a fprighdy vigour poifeffeth every part. The und \.rfianding eau difcerli what is good, and tfy will can cleave unto it: the· af– feCtions are ·not tied to the motions of fenfe, and the -influence of external ob– jeers; but they are ftirred by more divine' impreffions, are touched by a ft.:nfe of irtvifible things. · Let us defcend, if you pleafe, into a The excel- nearer and more particular view iency- of di- of religion, in thofe fcveral Tine love. branches of it ·whi eh were nanled before. Let us confider that love and affcCl:ion wherewith holy fouls are united to 'God, that we may fee what ex– cellency and felicity is involved in it. Love is that powerful and prevalent pafficm, by which all the faculties and inclinations of the foul are determin(d, and on which both its perfeCl:ion and happintfs depend. The worth and excellency of a foul is to - '· be ;
;n the Soul oj M an. 33- ./ be meafured by .the object of its love. He who loveth mean and fordid things, cloth thereby become bafe and vile; but a,noble and well- placed affection, cloth advance and improve the fpirit unto a conformity. with the perfections which it loves. The images of thefe do frequently prefcnt themfelves unto the n1ind, and, by a fe– cret force and I energy, in fin uate in to the very confl:itution of the foul, and muulSI. and fafhion it unto their own likenefs. Hence we n1ay fee how eafil y lovers or friends do flide into the imitation of -tb_e perfons whom they affect, and how, even before they are aware, they refemhle then1, not only in the more ·confidcrable inftances of their deportment, but alfo in their voice and gefture, and that which we call th~., ir mien and air. And certainl v we fhould as well tranfcribe the virtues .,and in vvard beauties of the fc>ul, if they were th e object and motive of our love. But now, as all the creatures we converfe with h::tvc their mixture a.nd alloy, we are al– ways in hazard to be fullied and corrupted by placing our affcCl:ion on them. Paaion doth eaGiy blind our eyes, fo that we firft approve, and then imitate the thi 1gs' that are hlameable in thcn1 . ..,... The true ' way to improve and ennoble our fouls, is, by
34 The Lift of God by fixing our love on the di-vine perfecri- • ons, that w-e may have then1 always be– fore us, and derive an impreffion of thetn on ourfelves, and beholding rwith open .f'ace, as in ag1 a./s the glor;· ol the Lord, we may be cbaJJged i.J,:fo the j{zme imag·e, fronz glory to rglorJ'· He who with a generous and holy ambition bath raifecl his eyes towards that uncreated beanty and goodnefs, and ' fixed hi·s affeCtion there, is quite of an·o– ther fpirit, of a more excellent and he– roick temper than the reH: of the wodd; . :and cannot but infinitely difdain all n1ean and unworthy things; will not entertain any' low or bafe thoughts which n1ight difparage his high and noble pretenfions. Love is the greateft and moft excellent thing we are mafters of; and therefore it is folly and bafnefs to bd1ow it unworthily. It is indeed the only thing v~e can call our own. Other tbii1gs may be taken from us by violence; but none can ravHh our love. If any thing elfe be counted ours, · by giving our love we give all, fc) far as we make over our ht·ans and wills, by \vhich we potfcfs our other enjoyments. It is not pofTtble to refufe him any thing, to w ho'11 by love we have given ourfclvcs. Nay, G.nce it is the privilege of gifts to re– ceive their value · fron1 the mind of the
·• tJt the Soul of A1mt. 35 giver, and not to be mcafured by the e– vent, but by the dcGrc; he who Ioveth may in fon1e fcnfe be ·f;iid not only to be– fiow all he bath, but all things elfc which n1ay n1ake the beloved perfon happy, fince he doth heartily wifh them, and· would readily give them, if they Yvere in l1is power. In which fcnfe it is that one n1akes bold to fc1y, That divine iove doth in a manner give God unto himje[f; by the complacency it takes in the happinej1· and perfection if his nature. But though this .n1ay feen1 too Hrained an expreilion, cer– tainly love is the worthid1: prefent we can offer unto · God; and it is extremely de– bafed when we befiow it another way. When this affection is mifplaced, it cloth often vent itfdf in fuch exprdiio!1S as point at its genuine and proper object, and infinuate where it ought to be placed. 'Ihe flattering and blaij)hemous terms of adoration wherein men do fometimes ex– prefs their paffion, are the language of that affeCtion which was made and dcfign– ed tor God; as he who is accuflomed to fpeak to fome great pcrfon, doth perhaps unawares accofi another with rhofe titles he was wont to give to him. Btu certainly that paffion whiLh accounteth .. ·i~s ()b1etl: a Deity, ought to be befrowed on · hitn who
36 Th~ Lift of GOD who really is fo. Thofe unlimited fubmif– fions, which would debaf~ the foul ifdireCt– ed to any other, will exalt and ennoble it wher. -placed here. Thofe chain-s and cords of love are infinitely more glorious than liberty irfctf; this .flavery is more noble than all the empires in the world. Again, As Jivine love cloth advance and The advan- elevate the foul, fo it is rhat tages of di - alfc) which can make it happy. v ine love. The higheft and moft raviihing pkafures, . the n1o1t folid and fubflantial ddights, that hu :11an nature i's capable of, ' are thofe whieh arife from tht: endear– nlents of a well-placed and fucccfsful af- . fccrion. ~rhat which imbitttTs love, and n1akes it ordinarily a very troublefome and · hurctul pailion, is, the placing i.t on thofe ·who ha\'e not worth cnnugh to detcrve it or affeftion and gratitude, to requite ir, or whofe abfence may deprive us of the plea– Cure of their converfe, or their n1iferies occa– fion our trouble. T'o all thefe evils are they expofed, whofe chiefand fuprcm~ affcccion is placed on creatures like thcmfdyes; but the love of God delivers us fron1 th~m all. FirH:, I fay, love muil: needs b1 n1i1CrTh th able, and full of trouble and .e wor 1 o£ the ob- djfquietude, when there is not jcct. worth and excellep{y enough in the
in the Soul of Ma1t. 37 the object to anfwer the vafinefs of its ca– pacity. So eager and violent a pailion cannot but ,fret and torn1ent the fpirit, where it finds not wherewith to fatis(y its cravings. And indeed fo- large and un– bounded is its nature,- that it 1nuft be cx– treinely pinched and firaitcned, when confined to any creature: nothing belo\v an infinite good c,an · afford it ro0n1 to fl:retch itfelf, and exert its vigour ·and ac1-i– vity. What is a little ikin deep beauty, or. fon1e fmall degrees of ·goodnefs, to n1atch or fatisfy a paffion that was n1ade for God; defigned to en1brace an infi nite good? No wonder lovers do fo hardly fuf– fer any rival, and do not defire tha~others ihould approve their paffion by in1itating it. They know the fcantinefs and narrownefs of the good which they love, that it can– not fuffice two·, being in effeCt too little for one. Hen~e love 'which is jlrong as death, occafioneth jea!oufy ·whi-ch is cruel .as the gra7.:e; the coals whereof are coals of fire which hath a 1nofi violent flame. But divine love bath no _mixture of this gall. · When once the foul is fixed on that fupreme and all-fufficient good, it finds fo n1uch perfeCtion ·and goodnefs, asCloth not only anfwer and fatis~"y its affecrion, but 1u.afier and overpower it too; it finds all its , D loYe
38 The Life o.f GOD love to be too faint an~ languid for fuch a noble objecr, and is only forry that it can comn1and no n1ore. It wiihes for the flan1es of a .feraph, and longs for the time w4en it lhall be wholly melted and dif– folved into love; and becaufe it can do fo little itfdf, it deGres the ailiftance of the whole creation, that angels and men would concur with it in the adn1iration .. and love of thofe infinite perfecrions. Again, love is accompanied with troubles, The certain· when it miffeth a fuitable re– ty to be beloturn of affeCtion. Love is the ved again. n1ofi: valuable thing we can befiow; and by giving it, we do in effecr give all that we have: and therefore it n1uft needs be affiiCl:ing, to find fo great a gift defpifed, that the prefent which -one hath made of his whole heart, cannot pre– vail to obtain any return: Perfect kwe. is a kind of felf-derelietion, a wandering out of ourfelves; it is a kind ofvoluntary death, wherdn the lover dies to himfelf, -and all his own interefl:s; not thinking of then1, nor caring for then1 any more, and min– ding nothing but how he tnay pleafe and gratify the party whom he loves. Thus he is quite undone unlefs he meets with reci– procal affection. He neglects himfelf, and the other bath no regard to him. But if - he
rn the Soul oj MaH. 39 h5 be beloved, he is revived, as it were, and liveth in the foul and care of the per– fan whon1 he loves: and now he begins to n1ind his own concernn1ents, not fo much becaufc they are his, as becaufe · the be– loved is pleafcd to own an interefi in then1. f-Ie becon1cs dear unto himfelf, becaufe he is fo unto the other. But why ihould I enlarge in fo known a n1atter? Nothing can be n1ore clear; than that the happinefs of love depends on the return it meets with. And herein the divine lover, hath unfpeakably the ad– vantage, having placed his affection on hln1 whofe nan1re is love; \vhofe good- ,.. nefs is as infinire as his being; whofe ffier– cy prevented us when v1e \Vere his ene– nlies, therefore cannot chufe but en1brace us when we are becoine his friends. It is utterly impoffible that God ihould deny his love to a foul wholly devoted to him, and which deGres nothing fo much as to ferve and pleafe hin1. He cannot difdain his own image, nor the h cart in which it is engraven. Love is all the tribute which we can pay him, and it is the fa– crifice \vhich ·he vdll not dc~ryifc. D 2 Another '
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