1

fully delaying it; and the opportunities of faving our immortal fouls, may vanifh, and be for ever hid from our eyes.

The next property of wisdom is, to forefee dangers, and to take timely care to prevent them. The prudent man (faith Solomon) forefeeth the evil, and bideth himself; that is, fhelters and fecures himfelf against it; but the fimple pass on, and are punished; that is, the evil overtakes them, and their felly is pu nifhed in their fatal ruin. Now the greatest danger is from the greatest power; even from him who is able to fave, and to deftroy. I will tell you (fays the wifdom of God) whom ye shall fear; fear him, who after he bath killed, can deftroy both body and foul in hell.

Again, another main point of wisdom is, to do as little as we can to be repented of, trufting rather to the wifdom of prevention, than to that of remedy. Religion first teacheth men innocency, and not to of fend; but in cafe we do, (as in many things we offend all), it then directs us to repentance, as the only remedy. But this certainly is folly, to fin in hopes of repentance, that is, firft to make work for repentance, and then run the hazard of it; for we may certainly fin, but it is not certain that we fhall repent. it were, yet it is great folly to lay in before hand, and to make work for trouble: Na tu ftultus homuncio es, qui malis veniam precari, quàm non peccare, was a wife faying of old Cato;. Thou art (fays he) a

And if

filly man indeed, who chufeft rather to ask forgive “nefs, than not to offend." If a man had the best remedy in the world, he would not make himself fick to try the virtue of it; and it is a known comparison, and a very fit one, that repentance is, tabula post naufragium, "a plank after fhipwreck." But I am greatly afraid that thousands of fouls, who have trusted to it, have perifhed before they could get to land, with this plank in their arms.

The laft character of wisdom I fhall mention is, in all things to confult the peace and fatisfaction of our own minds, without which nothing elfe can make us happy; and this obedience to the laws of God does

naturally

naturally procure. Great peace have they (fays David) that love thy law, and nothing fhall offend them. The work of righteousness, fays the prophet, hall be peace, and the effect of righteousness, quietness, and affurance for ever. The fear of God, and the keeping of his commandments, is the best preservative against the troubles of a guilty confcience, and the ter rifying apprehenfions of a future judgement. And this is the great wifdom of religion, that whofoever liveth according to the rules and precepts of it, prevents the chief caufes of difcontent, and lays the fureft foundation of a perpetual fatisfaction of mind, a jewel of ineftimable price, which none knows but he that has it; and he that hath it, knows the value of it too well to part with it for the pleasures of fin, which are but for a feafon, and which always prove bitternefs in the end, and for the little sweetness which they yielded, leave a terrible fting behind them.

Thus have I briefly reprefented the reasonableness and wifdom of religion. It is of infinite perfection, and of a vast influence and extent; it reacheth to the whole man, the happiness of foul and body; and to our whole duration, the happiness of this world and the next; for godliness (that is true religion and piety) hath the promise of this life, and of that which is to

come.

But now where are the effects of true religion, in the full compass and extent of it, to be found? fuch real effects as do in any measure bear a proportion to the power and perfection of their caufe? for nothing certainly is more excellent and amiable in its definition than true religion is; but alas! how imperfect is it in the fubject? I mean in us, who ought to fhew forth the power and perfection of it in the practice and actions of our lives, the best demonstration of the excellent frame and temper of our minds.

What a conflict and ftruggling do the beft men find between their inclination and their duty? how hard to reconcile our practice and our knowledge, and to make our lives to agree with the reafon of our minds, and the clear conviction of our confciences?

how

how difficult for a man, in this dangerous and imperfect ftate, to be in any measure either fo wife or fo good as he ought? how rare is it for a man to be good-na. tured, gentle, and eafy to be intreated, without being often betrayed into fome weakness and finful compliances, especially in the bad company of our betters? how next to impoffible is it to be frict and fevere in our lives, without being four? to govern our lives with that perpetual caution, and to maintain that evenness of temper, as not to be fometimes peevish and paffionate? and when we are so, not to be apt to fay with Jonah, We do well to be an gry?

?

There are two precepts in the New Teftament, that feem to me to be the nicest of all other, and hardeft to be put in practice. One is that of our bleffed Saviour, Be wife as ferpents, and innocent as doves. How hard is it to hit upon the juft temper of wisdom and innocency; to be wife, and hurt no body; to be innocent, without being filly? The other is that of the apoftle, Be angry, and fin not. How difficult

is this, never to be angry but upon juft caufe? and when the caufe of our anger is juft, not to be transported beyond due bounds, either as to the degree of our anger, or as to the duration and continuance of it? This is fo very nice a matter, that one would be almoft tempted to think that this were in effect a prohibition of anger in any cafe: Be ye angry, and fin not; be ye fo, if ye can without fin. I believe, whofoever obferves it, will find that it is as eafy to fupprefs this paffion at any time, as to give way to it, without offending in one kind or other.

But to proceed:

How hard a matter is it to be much in company, and free in converfation, and not to be infected by it? to live in the midst of a wicked world, and yet to keep ourselves free from the vices of it? to be temperate in the ufe of things pleafing, fo as neither to injure our health, nor to lofe the use of our reafon, nor to offend against confcience? to faft often, without being conceited of it, and bargaining as it were with

God

God for fome greater liberties in another kind; and without cenfuring those who do not tie up themselves to our strict rules either of piety or abftinence? when perhaps they have neither the fame opportunities of doing it, nor the fame reason to do it that we have; nay, perhaps, have a much better reason for not doing juft as we do: for no man is to prefcribe to others his own private method, either of fafting, or of devotion, as if he were the rule, and his example a kind of proclamation, enjoining all his neighbours the fame, days of fafting and prayer which he himself, for reafons best known to himfelf, thinks fit to observe.

And then how hard is it to be chearful without being vain, and grave and ferious without being morofe to be useful and inftructive to others in our converfation and difcourfe, without affuming too much authority to ourselves? which is not the best and most effectual way of doing good to others; there being fomething in the nature of man which had rather take a hint and intimation from another to advise himfelf, and would rather chufe to imitate the filent good example which they fee in another, than to have either his advice or his example impofed upon them.

How difficult is it to have a mind equal to every condition, and to be content with mean and moderate things to be patient in adverfity, and humble in profperity, and meek upon fudden and violent provocations? to keep our paffions free from getting head of our reafon, and our zeal from out-running our knowledge? to have a will perfectly fubmitted and refigned to the will of God, even when it lies crofs and thwart to ours, fo that whatever pleases God fhould pleafe us? to be refolute, when our duty happens to be difficult and dangerous; or even to believe that to be our duty (though it certainly be fo) which is very inconvenient for us to do? to hold out and be unwearied in well doing? to be careful to preferve our lives, and yet upon a great occafion, and whenever God calls for them, to be content to lay them down?

To

To be wife and innocent; men in understanding, and yet in malice children? to have many great virtues, and not to want that which gives the great luftre to them all, I mean real and unaffected modefty and humility? In short,

How difficult is it, to have regard to all God's commandments, and to hate every evil and falfe way? to have our duty continually in our eye, and ready to be put into practice upon every proper occafion? to have God, and the confideration of another world always before us, prefent to our minds, and operative upon our practice? to live as those that know they muft die, and to have our thoughts perpetually awake, and intent upon the great and everlasting concernments of our immortal fouls?

These are great things indeed, easy to be talked of, but hard to be done; nay, not to be done at all, without frequent and fervent prayer to God, and the continual aids and fupplies of his grace; not without an earneft endeavour on our parts, a vigorous resistance of temptations, and many a fore conflict with our own perverfe wills and fenfual inclinations; not without a perpetual guard and watchfulness over our lives, and our unruly appetites and paffions.

Little do unexperienced men, and those who have taken no great pains with themselves, imagine what thought and confideration, what care and attention, what refolution and firmness of mind, what diligence and patient continuance in well-doing, are requifite to make a truly good man; fuch a one as St Paul defcribes, that is, perfect and entire, and wanting nothing; that follows God fully, and fulfils every part of his duty, having a confcience void of offence towards God and towards man. Who is there among us, that is either wife enough for his own direction, or good enough for the peace and fatisfaction of his own mind; that is fo happy as to know his duty, and to do it; as to have both the understanding and the will to do in all things as he ought?

After our best care, and all our pains and endeavours, the moft of us will still find a great many defects in our lives, and cannot but difcern great and

manifold