For awhile shut thine eyes, and think of the silliest creature in human life; imagine to thyself something that thou thinkest the most poor and vain in the way of the world. Now thou art thyself that poor and vain creature, unless thou art devoted to God, and labouring after Christian perfection; unless this be thy difference from the world, thou canst not think of any creature more silly than thyself. For it is not any post, or condition, or figure in life, that makes one man wiser or better than another; if thou art a proud scholar, a worldly priest, an indevout philosopher, a crafty politician, an ambitious statesman, thy imagination cannot invent a way of life that has more of vanity or folly than thine own.
XI. Every one has wisdom enough to see what variety of fools and madmen there are in the world.
Now perhaps we cannot do better, than to find out the true reason of the folly and madness of any sort of life. Ask thyself therefore wherein consists the folly of any sort of life, which is most condemned in thy judgment.
*Is a drunken fox-hunter leading a foolish life? Wherein consists the folly of it? Is it because he is not getting money upon the exchange? Or because he is not wrangling at the bar? Or not waiting at court? No; the folly of it consists in this, that he is not living like a reasonable creature; that he is not acting like a being that has a salvation to work out with fear and trembling; that he is throwing away his time amongst dogs, and noise, and intemperance, which he should devote to watching and prayer, and the improvement of his soul in all holy tempers. Now, if this is the folly (as it most certainly is) of an intemperate fox-hunter, it shews us an equal folly in every other way of life, where the same great ends of living are neglected. Tho’ we are shining at the bar, making a figure at court, great at the exchange, or famous in the schools of philosophy, we are yet the same despicable creatures as the intemperate fox-hunter, if these things keep us as far from holiness and heavenly affections. There is nothing greater in any way of life than fox-hunting: it is all the same folly, unless religion be the beginning and ending, the rule and measure of it all. For it is as noble a wisdom, and shews as great a soul, to die less holy and heavenly for the sake of hunting and noise, as for the sake of any thing that the world can give us.
XII. Another motive to induce you to aspire after Christian perfection, may be taken from the double advantage of it in this life, and that which is to come.
The apostle thus exhorts the Corinthians, Wherefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; for as much as ye know that your labour will not be in vain in the Lord[¹].
[¹] 1 Cor. xv. 58.
This is an exhortation founded upon solid reason: for what can be so reasonable, as to be always abounding in that work which will never be in vain? Whilst we are pleased with ourselves, or pleased with the world, we are pleased with vanity: and our most prosperous labours of this kind are but vanity of vanities: but whilst we are labouring after Christian perfection, we are labouring for eternity, and building to ourselves higher stations in the joys of heaven. As one star differeth from another star in glory, so also is the resurrection of the dead. We shall surely rise to different degrees of glory, of joy and happiness in God, according to our different advancements in holiness, and good works.
No degrees of mortification and self-denial, no private prayers, no secret mournings, no instances of charity, no labour of love, will ever be forgotten, but all treasured up to our everlasting comfort. For though the rewards of the other life are free gifts of God; yet since he has assured us, that every man shall be rewarded according to his works, it is certain that our rewards will be as different as our works have been.
XIII. Now stand still awhile, and ask yourself, whether you really believe this to be true, that the more perfect we are here, the more happy we shall be hereafter? If you do not believe this, you know nothing of God and religion. And if you do believe it, is it possible to be awake and not aspiring after Christian perfection? What can you think of, what can the world shew you, that can make you any amends for the loss of any degree of virtue? Can any way of life make it reasonable for you to die less perfect than you might have done? But if you would now devote yourself to God, perhaps you must part with some friends; you must displease some relations, you must refrain from some pleasures, you must alter your life; nay, perhaps you must do more than this, you must expose yourself to the hatred of your friends, to the jest and ridicule of wits, and to the scorn and derision of worldly men. But had you not better do and suffer all this, than die less perfect, less prepared for eternal glory? And indeed the suffering all this is suffering nothing. For why should it signify any thing to you, what fools and madmen think of you? And surely it can be no wrong or rash judgment to think those both fools and mad, who condemn what God approves, and like that which God condemns: but if you think this too much to be done, to obtain eternal glory, think on the other hand, what can be gained instead of it.