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 The Life of God in the Soul of Man-Henry Scougal

The Life of God in the Soul of Man
Creator(s): Scougal, Henry (1650-1678)
Practical theology

Practical religion. The Christian life
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PART I.


On Religion; the Natural and Divine Life; and the exemplification of
Divine Love in our blessed Savior.

my dear friend,

This designation doth give you a title to all endeavours whereby I can
serve your interests; and your pious inclinations to do so, happily
conspire with my duty, that I shall not need to step out of my road to
gratify you--but I may at once perform an office of friendship, and
discharge an exercise of my function, since the advancing of virtue and
holiness, (which I hope you make your greatest study,) is the peculiar
business of my employment. This, therefore, is the most popular
instance wherein I can vent my affection, and express my gratitude
towards you, and I shall not any longer delay the performance of the
promise I made you to this purpose; for though I know you are provided
with better helps of this nature than any I can offer you, nor are you
like to meet with any thing here which you knew not before, yet I am
hopeful, that what cometh from one whom you are pleased to honour with
your friendship, and which is more particularly designed for your use,
will be kindly accepted by you; and God's providence perhaps may so
direct my thoughts, that something or other may prove useful to you.
Nor shall I doubt your pardon, if, for moulding my discourse into the
better frame, I lay a low foundation, beginning with the nature and
properties of religion, and all along give such way to my thoughts, in
the prosecution of the subject, as may bring me to say many things
which were not necessary, did I only consider to whom I am writing.

I cannot speak of religion, but I must lament, that among so many
pretenders to it, so few understand what it means: some placing it in
the understanding, in orthodox notions and opinions; and all the
account they can give of their religion is, that they are of this and
the other persuasion, and have joined themselves to one of those many
sects whereinto Christendom is most unhappily divided. Others place it
in the outward man, in a constant course of external duties, and a
model of performances. If they live peaceably with their neighbours,
keep a temperate diet, observe the returns of worship, frequenting the
church, or their closet, and sometimes extend their hands to the relief
of the poor, they think they have sufficiently acquitted themselves.
Others again put all religion in the affections, in rapturous hearts,
and ecstatic devotion; and all they aim at is, to pray with passion,
and think of heaven with pleasure, and to be affected with those kind
and melting expressions wherewith they court their Saviour, till they
persuade themselves they are mightily in love with him, and from thence
assume a great confidence of their salvation, which they esteem the
chief of Christian graces. Thus are these things which have any
resemblance of piety, and at the best are but means of obtaining it, or
particular exercises of it, frequently mistaken for the whole of
religion: nay, sometimes wickedness and vice pretend to that name. I
speak not now of those gross impieties wherewith the Heathens were wont
to worship their gods. There are but too many Christians who would
consecrate their vices, and follow their corrupt affections, whose
ragged humour and sullen pride must pass for Christian severity; whose
fierce wrath, and bitter rage against their enemies, must be called
holy zeal; whose petulancy towards their superiors, or rebellion
against their governors, must have the name of Christian courage and
resolution.

But certainly religion is quite another thing, and they who are
acquainted with it will entertain far different thoughts, and disdain
all those shadows and false imitations of it. They know by experience
that true religion is a union of the soul with God, a real
participation of the divine nature, the very image of God drawn upon
the soul, or, in the apostle's phrase, "It is Christ formed within
us."--Briefly, I know not how the nature of religion can be more fully
expressed, than by calling it a Divine Life: and under these terms I
shall discourse of it, showing first, how it is called a life; and
then, how it is termed divine.

I choose to express it by the name of life, first, because of its
permanency and stability. Religion it not a sudden start, or passion of
the mind, not though it should rise to the height of a rapture, and
seem to transport a man to extraordinary performances. There are few
but have convictions of the necessity of doing something for the
salvation of their souls, which may push them forward some steps with a
great deal of seeming haste; but anon they flag and give over. They
were in a hot mood, but now they are cooled; they did shoot forth fresh
and high, but are quickly withered, because they had no root in
themselves. These sudden fits may be compared to the violent and
convulsive motions of bodies newly beheaded, caused by the agitations
of the animal spirits, after the soul is departed, which, however
violent and impetuous, can be of no long continuance; whereas the
motions of holy souls are constant and regular, proceeding from a
permanent and lively principle. It is true, this divine life continueth
not always in that same strength and vigour, but many times suffers sad
decays; and holy men find greater difficulty in resisting temptations,
and less alacrity in the performance of their duties. Yet it is not
quite extinguished, nor are they abandoned to the power of those
corrupt affections, which sway and overrule the rest of the world.

Again, religion may be designed by the name of life, because it is an
inward, free, and self-moving principle: and those who have made
progress in it, are not actuated only by external motives, driven
merely by threatenings, nor bribed by promises, nor constrained by
laws; but are powerfully inclined to that which is good, and delight in
the performance of it. The love which a pious man bears to God and
goodness, is not so much by virtue of a command enjoining him so to do,
as by a new nature instructing and prompting him to it; nor doth he pay
his devotions as an unavoidable tribute only to appease the divine
justice, or quiet his clamorous conscience; but those religious
exercises are the proper emanations of the divine life, the natural
employments of the new-born soul. He prays, and gives thanks, and
repents, not only because these things are commanded, but rather
because he is sensible of his wants, and of the divine goodness, and of
the folly and misery of a sinful life. His charity is not forced, nor
his alms extorted from him; his love makes him willing to give; and
though there were no outward obligation, his heart would devise liberal
things. Injustice or intemperance, and all other vices, are as contrary
to his temper and constitution, as the basest actions are to the most
generous spirit, and impudence and scurrility to those who are
naturally modest. So that I may well say with St. John, "Whosoever is
born of God, doth not commit sin: for his seed remaineth in him, and he
cannot sin, because he is born of God." Though holy and religious
persons do much eye the law of God, and have a great regard unto it,
yet it is not so much the sanction of the law, as its reasonableness,
and purity, and goodness, which do prevail with them. They account it
excellent and desirable in itself, and that in keeping of it there is
great reward; and that divine love wherewith they are actuated, makes
them become a law unto themselves:

Who shall prescribe a law to those that love?

Love's a more powerful law which doth them move.

In a word, what our blessed Saviour said of himself, is in some measure
applicable to his followers, that "it is their meat and drink to do
their Father's will." And, as the natural appetite is carried out
toward food, though we should not reflect on the necessity of it for
the preservation of our lives, so they are carried with a natural and
unforced propension toward that which is good and commendable. It is
true, external motives are many times of great use to excite and stir
up this inward principle, especially in its infancy and weakness, when
it is often so languid that the man himself can scarce discern it,
hardly being able to move one step forward but when he is pushed by his
hopes or his fears, by the pressure of an affliction, or the sense of a
mercy, by the authority of the law, or the persuasion of others. Now,
if such a person be conscientious and uniform in his obedience, and
earnestly groaning under the sense of his dulness, and is desirous to
perform his duties with more spirit and vigour, these are the first
motions of the divine life, which, though it be faint and weak, will
surely be cherished by the influences of heaven, and grow unto greater
maturity. But he who is utterly destitute of this inward principle, and
doth not aspire to it, but contents himself with those performances
whereunto he is prompted by education or custom, by the fear of hell or
carnal notions of heaven, can no more be accounted a religious person,
than a puppet can be called a man. This forced and artificial religion
is commonly heavy and languid, like the motion of a weight forced
upward. It is cold and spiritless, like the uneasy compliance of a wife
married against her will, who carries it dutifully toward the husband
whom she does not love, out of some sense of virtue or honour. Hence
also this religion is scant and niggardly, especially in those duties
which do greatest violence to men's carnal inclinations; and those
slavish spirits will be sure to do no more than is absolutely required.
It is a law that compels them, and they will be loath to go beyond what
it stints them to; nay, they will ever be putting such glosses on it,
as may leave themselves the greatest liberty. Whereas, the spirit of
true religion is frank and liberal--far from such peevish and narrow
reckoning; and he who hath given himself entirely unto God, will never
think he doth too much for him.

By this time I hope it doth appear, that religion is with a great deal
of reason termed a life, or vital principle, and that it is very
necessary to distinguish betwixt it and that obedience which is
constrained, and depends upon external causes. I come next to give an
account why I designed it by the name of Divine Life: and so it may be
called, not only in regard of its fountain and original, having God for
its author, and being wrought in the souls of men by the power of his
Holy Spirit; but also in regard of its nature, religion being a
resemblance of the divine perfections, the image of the Almighty
shining in the soul of man: nay, it is a real participation of his
nature, it is a beam of the eternal light, a drop of that infinite
ocean of goodness; and they who are endowed with it may be said to have
"God dwelling in their souls, and Christ formed within them."

Before I descend to a more particular consideration of that divine life
wherein true religion doth consist, it will perhaps be fit to speak a
little of that natural or animal life which prevails in those who are
strangers to the other: and by this I understand nothing else, but our
inclination and propension towards those things which are pleasing and
acceptable to nature; or self-love issuing forth and spreading itself
into as many branches as men have several appetites and inclinations.
The root and foundation of the animal life, I reckon to be sense,
taking it largely, as it is opposed unto faith, and importeth our
perception and sensation of those things that are either grateful or
troublesome to us. Now these animal affections, considered in
themselves, and as they are implanted in us by nature, are not vicious
or blameable; nay, they are instances of the the wisdom of the Creator,
furnishing his creatures with such appetites as tend to the
preservation and welfare of their lives. These are instead of a law
unto the brute beasts, whereby they are directed towards the ends for
which they were made: but man being made for higher purposes, and to be
guided by more excellent laws, becomes guilty and criminal when he is
so far transported by the inclinations of this lower life as to violate
his duty, or neglect the higher and more noble designs of his creation.
Our natural affections are not wholly to be extirpated and destroyed,
but only to be moderated and overruled by superior and more excellent
principle. In a word, the difference betwixt a religious and wicked man
is, that in the one divine life bears sway, in the other the animal
life doth prevail.

But it is strange to observe unto what different courses this natural
principle will sometimes carry those who are wholly guided by it,
according to the diverse circumstances that concur with it to determine
them; and then, not considering this doth frequently occasion very
dangerous mistakes, making men think well of themselves by reason of
that seeming difference which is betwixt them and others, whereas,
perhaps, their actions do all the while flow from one and the same
original. If we consider the natural temper and constitution of men's
souls, we shall find some to be airy, frolicksome, and light, which
make their behaviour extravagant and ridiculous; whereas others are
naturally serious and severe, and their whole carriage composed into
such gravity as gains them a great deal of reverence and esteem. Some
are of a humorous, rugged, and morose temper, and can neither be
pleased themselves, nor endure that others should be so. But all are
not born with such sour and unhappy dispositions; for some persons have
a certain sweetness and benignity rooted in their natures; and they
find the greatest pleasure in the endearments of society, and the
mutual complacency of friends, and covet nothing more than to have
every body obliged to them: and it is well that nature hath provided
this complexional tenderness, to supply the defect of true charity in
the world, and to incline men to do something for one another's
welfare. Again, in regard to education, some have never been taught to
follow any other rules than those of pleasure or advantage; but others
are so inured to observe the strictest rules of decency and honour, and
some instances of virtue, that they are hardly capable of doing any
thing which they have been accustomed to look upon as base and
unworthy.

In fine, it is no small difference in the deportment of mere natural
men, that doth arise from the strength or weakness of their wit or
judgment, and from their care and negligence in using them.
Intemperance and lust, injustice and oppression, and all those other
impieties which abound in the world, and render it so miserable, are
the issues of self-love, the effect of the animal life, when it is
neither overpowered by religion, nor governed by natural reason: but if
it once take hold of reason, and get judgment and wit to be of its
party, it will many times disdain the grosser sort of vices, and spring
up into fair imitations of virtue and goodness. If a man have but so
much reason as to consider the prejudice which intemperance and
inordinate lust do bring unto his health, his fortune, and his
reputation, self-love may suffice to restrain him; and one may observe
the rules of moral justice, in dealing with others, as the best way to
secure his own interest, and maintain his credit in the world. But this
is not all; for this natural principle, by the help of reason, may take
a higher flight, and come nigher the instances of piety and religion:
it may incline a man to the diligent study of divine truths; for why
should not these, as well as other speculations, be pleasant and
grateful to curious and inquisitive minds? It may make men zealous in
maintaining and propagating such opinions as they have espoused, and be
very desirous that others should submit unto their judgment, and
approve the choice of religion which they themselves have made. It may
make them delight to hear and compose excellent discourses about the
matters of religion; for eloquence is very pleasant, whatever be the
subject: nay, some it may dispose to no small height of sensible
devotion. The glorious things that are spoken of heaven, may make even
a carnal heart in love with it: the metaphors and similitudes made use
of in Scripture, of crowns and sceptres, and rivers of pleasure, &c.
will easily affect a man's fancy, and make him wish to be there, though
he neither understand nor desire those spiritual pleasures which are
described and shadowed forth by them: and when such a person comes to
believe that Christ has purchased those glorious things for him, he may
feel a kind of tenderness and affection towards so great a benefactor,
and imagine that he is mightily enamoured with him, and yet all the
while continue a stranger to the holy temper and spirit of the blessed
Jesus; and what hand the natural constitution may have in the rapturous
devotions of some melancholy persons, hath been excellently discovered
of late by several learned and judicious pens.

To conclude, there is nothing proper to make a man's life pleasant, or
himself eminent and conspicuous in the world, but this natural
principle, assisted by wit and reason, may prompt him to it: and though
I do not condemn those things in themselves, yet it concerns us nearly
to know and consider their nature, both that we may keep within due
bounds, and also that we may learn never to value ourselves on the
account of such attainments, nor lay the stress of religion upon our
natural appetites or performances.

It is now time to return to the consideration of that divine life
whereof I was discoursing before, that life which is hid with Christ in
God; and therefore hath no glorious show or appearance in the world,
and to the natural man will seem a mean and insipid notion. As the
animal life consisteth in that narrow and confined love which is
terminated on a man's self, and in his propension towards those things
that are pleasing to nature; so the divine life stands in a universal
and unbounded affection, and in the mastery over our natural
inclinations, that they may never be able to betray us to those things
which we know to be blameable. The root of the divine life is faith;
the chief branches are love to God, charity to man, purity, and
humility: for, as an excellent person hath well observed, however these
names be common and vulgar, and make no extraordinary sound, yet do
they carry such a mighty sense, that the tongue of man or angel can
pronounce nothing more weighty or excellent. Faith hath the same place
in the divine life, which sense hath in the natural, being indeed
nothing else but a kind of sense, or feeling persuasion of spiritual
things; it extends itself unto all divine truths; but in our lapsed
estate, it hath a peculiar relation to the declaration of God's mercy
and reconcilableness to sinners through a Mediator; and therefore,
receiving its denomination from that principal object, is ordinarily
termed faith in Jesus Christ.

The love of God is a delightful and affectionate sense of the divine
perfections, which makes the soul resign and sacrifice itself wholly
unto him, desiring above all things to please him, and delighting in
nothing so much as in fellowship and communion with him, and being
ready to do or suffer any thing for his sake, or at his pleasure.
Though this affection may have its first rise from the favours and
mercies of God toward ourselves, yet doth it, in its growth and
progress, transcend such particular considerations, and ground itself
on his infinite goodness, manifested in all the works of creation and
providence. A soul thus possessed with divine love, must needs be
enlarged, toward all mankind, in a sincere and unbounded affection,
because of the relation they have to God, being his creatures, and
having something of his image stamped upon them; and this is that
charity I named as the second branch of religion, and under which all
the parts of justice, all the duties we owe to our neighbour, are
eminently comprehended: for he who doth truly love all the world, will
be nearly concerned in the interest of every one; and so far from
wronging or injuring any person, that he will resent any evil that
befals others, as if it happened to himself.

By purity, I understand a due abstractedness from the body, and mastery
over the inferior appetites; or such a temper and disposition of mind,
as makes a man despise and abstain from all pleasures and delights of
sense or fancy, which are sinful in themselves, or tend to extinguish
or lessen our relish of more divine and intellectual pleasures; which
doth also infer a resoluteness to undergo all those hardships he may
meet with in the performance of his duty; so that not only chastity and
temperance, but also Christian courage and magnanimity, may come under
this head.

Humility imports a deep sense of our own meanness, with hearty and
affectionate acknowledgment of our owing all that we are to the divine
bounty; which is always accompanied with a profound submission to the
will of God, and great deadness toward the glory of the world and
applause of men.

These are the highest perfections that either men or angels are capable
of--the very foundation of heaven laid in the soul; and he who hath
attained them, needs not desire to pry into the hidden rolls of God's
decrees, or search the volumes of heaven to know what is determined
about his everlasting condition; but he may find a copy of God's
thoughts concerning him, written in his own breast. His love to God may
give him assurance of God's favour to him; and those beginnings of
happiness, which he feels in the conformity of the powers of his soul
to the nature of God, and compliance with his will, are a sure pledge
that his felicity shall be perfected, and continued to all eternity;
and it is not without reason that one said, "I had rather see the real
impressions of a God-like nature upon my own soul, than have a vision
from heaven, or an angel sent to tell me that my name was enrolled in
the book of life."

When we have said all that we can, the secret mysteries of a new nature
and divine life can never be sufficiently expressed: language and words
cannot reach them; nor can they be truly understood but by those souls
that are enkindled within, and awakened unto the sense and relish of
spiritual things: "There is a spirit in man; and the inspiration of the
Almighty giveth this understanding." The power and life of religion may
be better expressed in actions than in words; because actions are more
lively things, and do better represent the inward principle whence they
proceed; and, therefore, we may take the best measure of those gracious
endowments from the deportment of those in whom they reside; especially
as they are perfectly exemplified in the holy life of our blessed
Saviour, a main part of whose business in this world was to teach, by
his practice, what he did require of others,--and to make his own
conversation an exact resemblance of those unparalleled rules which he
prescribed; so that if ever true goodness was visible to mortal eyes,
it was then, when his presence did beautify and illustrate this lower
world.

That sincere and devout affection wherewith his blessed soul did
constantly burn towards his heavenly Father, did express itself in an
entire resignation to his will; it was his very "meat to do the will,
and finish the work of him that sent him." This was the exercise of his
childhood, and the constant employment of his riper age. He spared no
travel or pains while he was about his Father's business, but took such
infinite content and satisfaction in the performance of it, that when,
being faint and weary with his journey, he rested himself on Jacob's
well, and entreated water of the Samaritan woman. The success of his
conference with her, and the accession that was made to the kingdom of
God, filled his mind with such delight, as seemed to have redounded to
his very body, refreshing his spirits, and making him forget the thirst
whereof he complained before, and refuse the meat which he had sent his
disciples to buy. Nor was he less patient and submissive in suffering
the will of God, than diligent in the doing of it: he endured the
sharpest afflictions and extremest miseries that ever were inflicted on
any mortal, without repining thought, or discontented word: for though
he was far from a stupid insensibility, or a fantastic or stoical
obstinacy, and had as quick a sense of pain as other men, and the
deepest apprehension of what he was to suffer in his soul, (as his
bloody sweat, and the sore amazement and sorrow which he professed, do
abundantly declare,) yet did he entirely submit to that severe
disposition of providence, and willingly acquiesced in it.

And he prayed to God, that "if it were possible," (or, as one of the
Evangelists hath it, "if he were willing,") "that cup might be
removed:" yet he gently added, "nevertheless, not my will, but thine be
done." Of what strange importance are the expressions, John xii. 27.
where he first acknowledgeth the anguish of his spirit, "Now is my soul
troubled," (which would seem to produce a kind of demur,) "and what
shall I say?" And then he goes on to deprecate his sufferings, "Father,
save me from this hour;" which he had no sooner uttered, but he doth,
as it were, on second thoughts, recall it in these words, "But for this
cause came I into the world;" and concludes, "Father, glorify thy
name." Now, we must not look on this as any levity, or blameable
weakness in the blessed Jesus: he knew all along what he was to suffer,
and did most resolutely undergo it; but it shows us the inconceivable
weight and pressure that he was to bear, which, being so afflicting,
and contrary to nature, he could not think of without terror; yet
considering the will of God, and the glory which was to redound from
him thence, he was not only content, but desirous to suffer it.

Another instance of his love to God was his delight in conversing with
him by prayer, which made him frequently retire himself from the world,
and, with the greatest devotion and pleasure, spend whole nights in
that heavenly exercise, though he had not sins to confess, and but few
secular interests to pray for; which, alas! are almost the only things
that are wont to drive us to our devotions. Nay, we may say his whole
life was a kind of prayer; a constant course of communion with God: if
the sacrifice was not always offering, yet was the fire still kept
alive; nor was ever the blessed Jesus surprised with that dulness, or
tepidity of spirit, which we must many times wrestle with before we can
be fit for the exercise of devotion.

In the second place, I should speak of his love and charity toward all
men: but he who would express it, must transcribe the history of the
gospel, and comment upon it; for scarce any thing is recorded to have
been done or spoken by him, which was not designed for the good and
advantage of some one or other.--All his miraculous works were
instances of his goodness as well as his power; and they benefited
those on whom they were wrought, as well as they amazed the beholders.
His charity was not confined to his kindred or relations; nor was all
his kindness swallowed up in the endearment of that peculiar friendship
which he carried toward his beloved disciple; but every one was his
friend who obeyed his holy commands, John xv. 14. And whosoever did the
will of his Father, the same was to him as his brother, sister, and
mother.

Never was any unwelcome to him who came with an honest intention, nor
did he deny any request which tended to the good of those that asked
it: so that what was spoken of that Roman emperor, who, for his
goodness, was called the darling of mankind, was really performed by
him, that never any departed from him with a heavy countenance, except
that rich youth, (Mark x.) who was sorry to hear that the kingdom of
heaven stood at so high a rate, and that he could not save his soul and
his money too. And certainly it troubled our Saviour, to see that when
a price was in his hand to get wisdom, yet he had no heart to it. The
ingenuity that appeared in his first address had already procured some
kindness for him; for it is said, "and Jesus, beholding him, loved
him:" but must he, for his sake, cut out a new way to heaven, and alter
the nature of things, which make it impossible that a covetous man
should be happy?

And what shall I speak of his meekness, who could encounter the
monstrous ingratitude and dissimulation of that miscreant who betrayed
him, in no harsher terms than these: "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of
man with a kiss?" What farther evidence could we desire of his fervent
and unbounded charity, than that he willingly laid down his life even
for his most bitter enemies; and mingling his prayers with his blood,
besought the Father that his death might not be laid to their charge,
but might become the means of eternal life to those very persons who
procured it?

The third branch of the divine life is purity, which, as I said
consists in a neglect of worldly enjoyment accommodations, in a
resolute enduring of all such troubles as we meet with in doing of our
duty. Now surely, if ever any person was wholly dead to all the
pleasures of the natural life, it was the blessed Jesus, who seldom
tasted them when they came in his way; but never stepped out of his
road to seek them. Though he allowed others the comforts of wedlock,
and honoured marriage with his presence, yet he chose the severity of a
virgin life, and never knew the nuptial bed: and though at the same
time he supplied the want of wine with a miracle, yet he would not work
one for the relief of his own hunger in the wilderness; so gracious and
divine was the temper of his soul, in allowing to others such lawful
gratifications as himself thought good to abstain from, and supplying
not only their more extreme and pressing necessities, but also their
smaller and less considerable wants. We many times hear of our
Saviour's sighs, and groans, and tears; but never that he laughed; and
but once that he rejoiced in spirit: so that through his whole life, he
did exactly answer that character given of him by the prophet of old,
that he was "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." Nor were the
troubles and disaccommodations of his life other than matters of
choice; for never did there any appear on the stage of the world with
greater advantages to have raised himself to the highest secular
felicity. He who would bring together such a prodigious number of
fishes into his disciples' net, and, at another time, receive that
tribute from a fish which he was to pay to the temple, might easily
have made himself the richest person in the world. Nay, without any
money, he could have maintained an army powerful enough to have justled
Cesar out of his throne, having oftener than once fed several thousands
with a few loaves and small fishes; but, to show how small esteem he
had of all the enjoyments in the world, he chose to live in so poor and
mean a condition, "that though the foxes had holes, and the birds of
the air had nests, yet he, who was Lord and heir of all things, had not
whereon to lay his head." He did not frequent the courts of princes,
nor affect the acquaintance or converse of great ones; but, being
reputed the son of a carpenter, he had fishermen, and such other poor
people for his companions, and lived at such a rate as suited with the
meanness of that condition.

And thus I am brought unawares to speak of his humility, the last
branch of the divine life; wherein he was a most eminent pattern to us,
that we might "learn of him to be meek and lowly in heart." I shall not
now speak of that infinite condescension of the eternal Son of God, in
taking our nature upon him, but only reflect on our Saviour's lowly and
humble deportment while he was in the world. He had none of those sins
and imperfections which may justly humble the best of men; but he was
so entirely swallowed up with a deep sense of the infinite perfections
of God, that he appeared as nothing in his own eyes; I mean so far as
he was a creature. He considered those eminent perfections which shined
in his blessed soul, not as his own, but the gifts of God; and
therefore assumed nothing to himself for them, but, with the
profoundest humility, renounced all pretences to them. Hence did he
refuse that ordinary compellation of "Good Master," when addressed to
his human nature, by one who, it seems, was ignorant of his divinity:
"Why callest thou me good? there is none good but God only;" as if he
had said, The goodness of any creature (and such only thou takest me to
be) is not worthy to be named or taken notice of. It is God alone who
is originally and essentially good.' He never made use of his
miraculous power for vanity or ostentation. He would not gratify the
curiosity of the Jews with a sign from heaven, some prodigious
appearance in the air; nor would he follow the advice of his countrymen
and kindred, who would have all his great works performed in the eyes
of the world, for gaining him the greater fame. But when his charity
had prompted him to the relief of the miserable, his humility made him
many times enjoin the concealment of the miracle; and when the glory of
God, and the design for which he came into the world, required the
publication of them, he ascribeth the honour of all to his Father,
telling them, "that of himself he was able to do nothing."

I cannot insist on all the instances of humility in his deportment
towards men: his withdrawing himself when they would have made him a
king; his subjection, not only to his blessed mother, but to her
husband, during his younger years; and his submission to all the
indignities and affronts which his rude and malicious enemies did put
upon him. The history of his holy life, recorded by those who convened
with him, is full of such passages as these; and indeed the serious and
attentive study of it is the best way to get right measures of
humility, and all the other parts of religion which I have been
endeavouring to desribe.

But now, that I may lessen your trouble of reading a long letter, by
making some pauses in it, let me here subjoin a prayer, that might be
proper when one, who had formally entertained some false notions of
religion, begins to discover what it is.

A PRAYER.

Infinite and eternal Majesty! Author and Fountain of being and
blessedness! how little do we poor sinful creatures know of thee, or
the way to serve and please thee! We talk of religion, and pretend unto
it; but, alas! how few are there that know and consider what it means!
How easily do we mistake the affections of our nature, and issues of
self-love, for those divine graces which alone can render us acceptable
in thy sight! It may justly grieve me to consider, that I should have
wandered so long, and contented myself so often with vain shadows and
false images of piety and religion; yet I cannot but acknowledge and
adore thy goodness, who hast been pleased, in some measure, to open
mine eyes, and let me see what it is at which I ought to aim. I rejoice
to consider what mighty improvements my nature is capable of, and what
a divine temper of spirit doth shine in those whom thou art pleased to
choose, and causest to approach unto thee. Blessed be thine infinite
mercy, who sentest thine own Son to dwell among men, and instruct them
by his example as well as his laws, giving them a perfect pattern of
what they ought to be. O that the holy life of the blessed Jesus may be
always in my thoughts, and before mine eyes, till I receive a deep
sense and impression of those excellent graces that shined so eminently
in him! And let me never cease my endeavours, till that new and divine
nature prevail in my soul, and Christ be formed within me.
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Fifi

 2012/4/27 14:24Profile





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