Thou, it may be, art not a prophet; God has not honoured thee with this post in his service; yet needest thou not fall short of this happiness: for our Saviour hath said, He that receiveth a prophet, in the name of a prophet, shall receive a prophet’s reward. Now this shews us, that though all men have not the same part to act in the common salvation, yet none will be losers by that state they are in, if they be but true to the particular duties of it. If they do all the good they can in their particular state, they will be looked upon with such acceptance as the poor widow that gave all that she had.

IX. *Hence we may learn the greatness of their folly, who, neglecting the exact performance of such duties as fall within their power, are pleasing themselves with the great things they would do, were they but in another state.

Clemens has his head full of imaginary piety. He is often proposing to himself what he would do if he had a great estate. He would outdo all charitable men that are gone before him: he would retire from the world; he would have no equipage; he would allow himself only necessaries, that widows and orphans, the sick and distressed, might find relief out of his estate. He tells you, that all other ways of spending an estate is folly and madness.

Now Clemens has at present a moderate estate, which he spends upon himself, in the same vanities and indulgences as other people do. He might live upon one third of his fortune, and make the rest the support of the poor; but he does nothing of all this that is in his power, but pleases himself with what he would do if his power was greater. Come to thy senses, Clemens; do not talk what thou wouldest do, if thou wast an angel, but consider what thou canst do, as thou art a man. Make the best use of thy present state; do now as thou thinkest thou wouldest do with a great estate; be sparing, deny thyself, abstain from all vanities, that the poor may be better maintained, and then thou art as charitable as thou canst be in any estate. Remember the poor widow’s mite.

Fervidus is exact in the duties of religion; but then the greatness of his zeal to be doing things that he cannot, makes him overlook those little ways of doing good which are every day in his power. Fervidus is only sorry that he is not in holy orders, and that his life is not spent in a business the most desirable of all things in the world. He is often thinking what reformation he would make in the world, if he was a priest or a bishop; he would have devoted himself wholly to God and religion, and have had no other care but how to save souls. But do not believe yourself, Fervidus; for if you desired in earnest to be a clergyman, that you might devote yourself entirely to the salvation of others, why are you not doing all you can in the state you are now in? Would you take extraordinary care of a parish, or a diocese, why then are you not as extraordinary in the care of a family? If you think the care of other peoples salvation to be the happiest business in the world, why do you neglect the care of those that are fallen into your hands? Why do you shew no concern for the souls of your servants? If they do their business for which you hired them, you never trouble your head about their Christianity. Nay, Fervidus, you are so far from labouring to make those that are about you truly devout and holy, that you almost put it out of their power to be so. You hire a coachman to carry you to church, and to sit in the street with your horses, whilst you are attending divine service. You never ask him how he supplies the loss of divine service, or what means he takes to preserve himself in a state of piety. You imagine that if you was a clergyman, you would be ready to lay down your life for your flock; yet you cannot lay aside a little state to promote the salvation of your servants. It is not desired of you, Fervidus, to die a martyr for your brethren; you are only required to go to church on foot, to spare some state and attendance, to bear sometimes with a little rain and dirt, rather than keep those souls which are as dear to God and Christ as yours is, from their full share in the common worship of Christians. Do but deny yourself such small matters as these; let us but see that you can take the least trouble to make all your servants and dependants true servants of God, then you shall be allowed to imagine what good you would have done had you been devoted to the altar.

X. *Eugenia is a young woman, full of pious dispositions; she is intending, if ever she has a family, to be the best mistress of it that ever was; her house shall be a school of religion, and her children and servants shall be brought up in the strictest piety; she will spend her time, and live in a very different manner from the rest of the world. It may be so, Eugenia; you think you intend all this: but you are not yet at the head of a family, and perhaps never may be. But Eugenia, you have now one maid, and you do not know what religion she is of; she dresses you for the church; you ask her for what you want, and then leave her to have as little Christianity as she pleases. You turn her away; you hire another; she comes, and goes, no more instructed, or edified in religion, by living with you than if she had lived with any body else. And this comes to pass, because your mind is taken up with greater things, and you reserve yourself to make a whole family religious, if ever you come to be head of it. You need not stay, Eugenia, to be so extraordinary a person; the opportunity is now in your hands; you may now spend your time, and live in as different a manner from the rest of the world, as ever you can in any other state. Your maid is your family at present; she is under your care; be now that religious governess that you intend to be; teach her the catechism, hear her read, exhort her to pray, take her with you to church, persuade her to love the divine service as you love it; and spare no pains to make her as devout as yourself. When you do thus much good in your present state, then you are that extraordinary person you intend to be; and till you thus live up to your present state, there is but little hopes that the altering your state will alter your way of life.

XI. *There is no falseness of our hearts that leads us into greater errors, than imagining, that we shall some time or other be better than we are, or need be now: for perfection has no dependance upon external circumstances; it wants no times or opportunities; but is then in its highest state, when we are making the best use of that condition in which we are placed. The poor widow did not stay till she was rich before she contributed to the treasury; she readily brought her mite; and, little as it was, it got her the reward and commendation of great charity. We must therefore all imitate the wisdom of the poor widow, and exercise every virtue in the same manner that she exercised her charity. We must stay for no time or opportunities, wait for no change of life, or fancied abilities, but remember that every time is a time for piety and perfection. Every thing but piety has its hindrances; but piety, the more it is hindered the higher it is raised. Let us therefore not vainly say, that if we had lived in our Saviour’s days, we would have followed him; or that if we could work miracles, we would devote ourselves to his glory. For, to follow Christ in our present state, and to do all that we are able for his glory, is as acceptable to him, as if we were working miracles in his name.

XII. When our blessed Saviour was upon the cross, he thus prayed for his enemies, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do[¹]. Now all Christians readily acknowledge that this temper of Christ is to be the exact rule of our temper on the like occasion; that we are not to fall short of it, but must be perfectly like Christ in this charity towards our murderers. But then perhaps they do not enough consider, that for the very same reason, every other temper of Christ, is as much the exact rule of all Christians as his temper towards his murderers. For we are to be thus disposed towards our persecutors and murderers, because Christ was so disposed towards his. And is it not as good an argument, that we are to be so and so disposed towards the world, and all worldly enjoyments, because Christ was so disposed towards them? He was as right in one case as the other, and no more erred in his temper towards worldly things, than in his temper towards his enemies. Should we not fail to be good Christians, if we fell short of that forgiving spirit, which the blessed Jesus shewed upon the cross? And shall we not equally fail to be good Christians, if we fall short of that humble and meek spirit which he shewed in all his life?

[¹] Luke xxiii. 34.

XIII. The short of the matter is this, the spirit and temper of Christ is the strict measure of the Spirit and temper of all Christians. It is not in this or that particular temper of Christ, that we are to follow his example; but we are to aspire after his whole spirit, to be in all things as he was, and think it as dangerous to depart from his Spirit and temper in one instance as in another. For besides that there is the same authority in all that our Saviour did, which obliges us to conform to his whole example. Can any one tell why we should have more value for this world than our Saviour had? What is there in our state and circumstances, that can make it proper for us to have more affection for the things of this life than our Saviour had? Is the world any more our happiness, than it was his happiness? Are riches, and honours, and pleasures, any more our proper good, than they were his? Are we any more born for this life than our Saviour was? Are we in less danger of being corrupted by its enjoyments than he was? Are we more at leisure to take up our rest, and spend our time in worldly satisfactions than he was? Have we a work upon our hands that we can more easily finish, than he could finish his? That requires of us less mortification and self-denial, less devotion and watching, than our Saviour’s required of him? Now as nothing of this can be said; as this world is as little our happiness, and more our danger than it was his; as we have a work to finish that requires all our strength, it is plain there was no reason for his disregard of the world, but what is the same reason for us to disregard it in the same manner.