cause my nature or theirs was better or worse at any time; but only because it sometimes discovered itself more according to some occasion: And when it drops the disguise of goodness which we can regard, or discovers itself too plainly; sinners as we are, we cannot love it, so odious and depravedis it become since the original ruin. We cannot love it in others, nor others because of it; though we are at a world of pains to conceal, to indulge, or to dress off, the ugly monster in ourselves. It is this depravity which hath begotten hypocrisy, not only in the world at large, or in courts or particular callings of men, where certainly it doth reign absolutely and universally, but also in religious profession, where surely it ought not. It hath reigned especially in this last, since it hath been esteemed a scandal not to be called a christian. It is true indeed, that the appearance of religion is certainly better than appearance of evil; but however, when men seek to appear religious, for the selfish honour, or carnal comfort, which may follow from others upon account of it, they only seek themselves, and are but the less truly religious for their professions. the of my gracious attainments?-Because I am Why am I grieved, if others think lightly grown unjustly great in my own esteem for things, which are not my own, but given to me. But doth not this very grief prove, that their judgement is but too right, and that my real stature is not so tall as I think it? If I were humbled in myself, in some degree as I ought to be (for, in the full and just degree, no man can be humbled in this life), I should approve their sincerity towards me, and contentedly sit down before them in the lowest room. Their mean opinion would not hurt me, because it would be the same as my own. The vileness of heart, and the low progress I have made in christian experience, are indeed sufficient to humble me every day I breathe; and it is nothing but my blindness, or a falseness to myself, that leads me to forget either my own real condition, or the place where I ought to stand. my We are not naturally honest to ourselves and we do not wish that others should deal too plainly and strictly with us. If we were truly honest and wise (and grace only can make us so in any degree), we should meekly hear, and even wish to hear, of our own frailties, errors, and defects, that we might grow the true christian growth, which doth not consist in the favourable opinion of men and of our own minds, but in lowliness of heart, and spirituality of life, respecting ourselves; in patience, quietness, and good-will, with regard to others; in contrition, humiliation, and submission, before God. Professors also live too much outwardly. K Religion is carried often into the strong animal passions, not to subdue, but to feed them. Hence the poor anger and violence of a corrupted nature are frequently mistaken for zcal, for life, and for power. But noise, and bustle, and tumult, and hurry; the agitations of temper, and strong concerns for influence, or authority, or direction, among men; the parade of religion, or the superiority of a party; may all be carried on with very small degrees of real grace, and perhaps with none at all. Diotrephes loved to have the pre-eminence; but this could not suppress his inward bitterness, nor increase the signs of his christian calling. iii. John, 9. If we do not live for God in our religion, we must live outwardly, and so shall endeavour to make a fair show in the flesh; but if we have his presence indeed, the truest part of our life will be hidden, and we shall much and gladly retire within to enjoy it. The most certain sign of our real growth will be, the sinking into ourselves as vileness and nothing; the being thought meanly of with content, if not pleasure, and the rising up of our souls towards God with private delight, ardour, affection, and constancy. All this may be done before HIM, who seeth in secret, far better than in the corners of the streets, or places of public resort. We shall aim, through grace, to be gracious, rather than to appear so. This hidden life my soul pants for, O Lord, thou knowest; whatever becomes of my outward respect among men. If I have the more of thee for the loss of this, it will be indeed most rich amends. Nay, it will be better for me to be without human regards, lest I should grow more proud than I already am, and so lose that blessed sight of thee, which I always enjoy most sweetly and clearly, in the deepest renunciation and depression of myself. O make me more and more dead to the opinion of even gracious men, that my poverty and meanness may be ever before me, and that in all forms and circumstances I may constantly be relinquishing myself, so that I may have more inward and intimate fellowship, friendship, complacency, and nearness, with thee! Careless, myself a dying man, CHAP. IX. ON THE SPIRIT OF THE WORLD. NOTHING more fully proves the fall of man from his original creation, than the opposition and temper of his soul, while in his natural state, to the things of God. His wishes, his hopes, his labours, his principles. of action and thinking, all are turned di rectly to another way. (whatever a man of the God is not really world may specu late) in all his thoughts. He is without God, or rather, in sober truth, he is (as the apostle calls him) an atheist in the world. Hence it is that the people of the world have in all ages reputed the people of God, either to be fools, in not laying themselves out for such things as wholly engage themselves, or knavish hypocrites, who only take a pretended spiritual method to accomplish the same carnal and selfish ends. And if they can find an instance or two (as they often have done and may do) to confirm this opinion; O how do they insult over professors of all kinds, and run down religion itself, as though it were a trap or an engine for all manner of deceit, or at best a whimsical paradise, framed by superstition, for dunces and fools? On the other hand; how wild, mad, besotted, and phrenetic, do all the agitations of these men seem to the christian, in his retired and considerate hours? They are pursuing, in his view, lies and shadows, vapours and dreams. They grasp after something, scarcely knowing what. Ever restless, they are always upon the hunt; but never finding, never satisfied. They live weary and tired lives, full of envy, disappointment, and care; and they die hopeless deaths, either in abject terror at what may come upon them hereafter, or in the stupid |