When we are sick it is time to fly to the physician; when we are weary, it is a proper time to rest: now there is the same fitness in having recourse to God and religion, when we are under any dejection of mind. For it is not more the sole property of light to dispel darkness, than it is the sole property of religion to relieve all uneasiness. Is any one afflicted, says the apostle, let him pray. Now this we are to look upon, not only as a wise advice of something that is very good to be done; but as a strict command that leaves no choice of doing any thing in the stead of it.
It is as absolute a command as if he had said, Hath any one sinned, let him repent. For an application to God is as much the one thing to be done in the hour of trouble, as repentance is the one thing to be done in time of sin.
IV. You seem to make times of dulness the occasion of reading those books, by saying that you only read them to divert your spirits. But that which you take to be a reason for reading them, is a strong objection against it. For it is never so improper to read those books, as when you want to have your spirits raised, or your mind made easy to itself. For it is the highest abuse you can put upon yourself, to look for ease and quiet in any thing, but in right apprehensions of God’s providence. And it is a sin against the whole nature of religion, not to make it the whole measure and reason of all your peace and enjoyment in every occurrence of life.
If you must amuse yourself with a volume of plays, because you are laid up with a broken leg, or have lost a friend, you are as far from wisdom as a child that is to be made quiet with a rattle, and as far from religion as those who worship idols; nay, to seek to such things for relief and refreshment, is like applying to the devil in distress. A man that drinks drams every time he is dull or uneasy, is a wise, prudent, and sober man, if compared to the Christian that in seasons of dejection has recourse to wanton wit, and prophane rant: he destroys the purity of his mind much more effectually, than the other destroys the health of his body.
Do you think that in great distresses, it is proper to seek comfort in God; but that in little troubles, any thing that can divert is as well? Nay, surely if God is our sufficient comfort in great distresses, he must be our best relief in those that are smaller. Unless it can be said, that the truths of religion are able to make us bear martyrdom with content, but not great enough to make us easy in little trials.
V. Besides, to seek for relief in foolish books, is not only applying to a false remedy, but is also destroying the chief power of religion. For as religion has no power over us but as it is our happiness; so far as we neglect, or refuse to make use of its comforts, so far we destroy its power over us. For it can no otherwise be the ordinary care of our lives, than by being our ordinary happiness and consolation in all the changes of life. A Christian therefore is to make his Christianity his comfort, not only in times of great trial and sufferings, but in all the lesser vexations of life, that by this means every little occasion of grief or disquiet may be an occasion of his being more affected with religion, and more sensible of its true comforts.
VI. On the contrary, if men will make themselves happy as children are made happy, not by considering the nature of things, but by a change of amusements, they must also expect to have the vexations of children, and be, like them, laughing and crying at they know not what, all the days of their life: for children are only easily vexed because they are easily pleased; and it is certain that they who can be pleased with things of no value must in the same degree be liable to be displeased at them. And as this is the true state of childhood: so whosoever is in this state, whatever his age may be, his office, or his dignity in life, is yet as truly in the state and folly of childhood, as he that is but four years old. Take an instance or two: a child whose heart is half broken at some misfortune, may perhaps be made easy with a picture of a huntsman and a pack of hounds; but if you would comfort the father that grieves for his eldest son, the hounds must all be alive; they must cry, and run, and follow a hare; and this will make the father as easy as the picture did the child.
A mother comforts her little girl with a pack of cards that are finely painted: by and by she wants to be comforted herself: some great calamity has happened to her. Now you must not think to comfort her with painted cards, or building houses with them; her grief is too great, and she has been too long a mother to be pleased with such things. It is only serious ombre that can dry her eyes, and remove sorrow from her heart.
VII. I might easily multiply instances of this kind; but these are sufficient to shew us, that persons of age and authority often differ only from children, as one child may differ from another. This is the true reason why human life is so full of complaint; why it is such a mixture of ridiculous pleasures, and vain disquiets, namely, because we live in an entire ignorance of the nature of things, never considering why we are pleased with this, or displeased with that, nor any more appeal to religion to direct our judgments, than children appeal to reason to form their tempers. For if we will only play, or lull ourselves into repose, as children are rocked to sleep, it is not to be wondered at, if like them we cry as soon as we are awake: and the reason why people, seemingly religious, are subject to the same dulness and peevishness, to the same vexations and variety of griefs that other people are, is this, because they make no more use of their religion on those occasions, than other people: they don’t so much as intend to keep themselves easy, thankful and chearful, by making religion the measure and standard of all their thoughts and judgments, in all the common chances of life, any more than those do, who have no thoughts about religion.
VIII. Suppose a person had lame feet, and bad eyes, and that he had an oil, that was an infallible cure for them both, when applied to both; if you saw him only using it for his eyes, you would not wonder that it had not cured his feet; you would know that his anointing his eyes could only cure his eyes; and that there was no ground to expect that his feet should be any better, till he anointed his feet: and all this for this plain reason, because things, however good in themselves, can have no farther effect than as they are applied. Now it is just thus in religion. If a man places it only in public worship, he attends public worship; it operates so far. But why must you wonder, that he is not of a wise, virtuous, and religious temper, in all the actions of his ordinary life? Is not this wondering why the oil has not cured a man’s feet, when he has never applied it to them, but only to his eyes?