Chapter VII: Before I proceed any farther in other instances of self-denial, it may

Before I proceed any farther in other instances of self-denial, it may be proper to show in what the duty of self-denial is founded, or wherein the reasonableness and necessity of it consists.

Every duty or virtue of the Christian life is founded in truth and reason, and is required because of its fitness to be done, and not because God has power to command what he pleases.

If we are commanded to be meek and humble, it is because meekness and humility are as true judgments, and as suitable to the truth of our state as it is a true judgment, and suitable to the state of every dependent being, to be thankful for mercies.

If we are bid to rejoice, it is at something that is truly joyful; if to fear, it is to fear something that is really dreadful. Thus we are called to no tempers but such as are so many true judgments, and as truly founded in the nature and reason of things, as if we were bid to believe two to be the half part of four.

God is reason and wisdom itself, and he can no more call us to any tempers or duties, but such as are strictly reasonable in themselves, than he can act against himself, or contradict his own nature.

As we can say with assurance, that God cannot lie, so we may with the same certainty affirm, that he cannot enjoin anything to rational creatures, that is contrary to the reason of their nature, no more than he can enjoin them to love things that are not lovely, or hate things that are in their nature not hateful.

When God speaks, we are as sure that infinite reason speaks, as we are sure there is a God.

A little reflection upon this matter, will give us the utmost assurance in such reasonings as this.

As sure therefore as there is a God, so sure is it, that a religion from God has only reasonable commands to reasonable creatures; no tempers can be imposed upon us by way of task and imposition, which we might as reasonably be without, if it was not required of us. God can only will, that reasonable creatures should be more reasonable, more perfect, and more like himself, and consequently can enjoin us no duties, or tempers of mind, but such as have this tendency. All his commands are for our sakes, founded in the necessities of our natures, and are only so many instructions to become more happy, than we could be without them.

A good man that enjoys the use of his reason, is offended at madmen and fools because they both act contrary to the reason of things. The madman fancies himself, and every thing about him, to be different from what they are; the fool knows nothing of the value of things, is ridiculous in his choices, and prefers a shell before the most useful things in life.

Now a good man, merely through the love of reason, is offended at their conduct, and would do all that he could to abate the frenzy of the one, and the stupidity of the other.

Let this a little represent to us the conduct of God towards fallen man, God is reason itself; how highly therefore must he be offended at the follies and stupidity of mankind? If a madman seems so unreasonable a creature to us, because he fancies himself to be something that he is not; how unreasonable must fallen man, who is fallen from all true knowledge of himself, appear to him who is infinite reason?

Again, God is goodness itself; therefore human goodness is inclined to endeavour the cure of mad men and fools, must not goodness itself be mu more inclined to correct the madness and folly of fallen man?

We see that men are said to be mad, when they fancy themselves, and the things about them to be different from what they are; they are said to be fools, when they mistake the value of things: now if this be true, as it most certainly is, it may serve to show us, that man in his present state of disorder and ignorance, must appear to God both as fool and mad; for every sinner is truly mad, as he imagines himself, and all things about him, to be what they are not: he is really a fool, as he is ridiculous in his choices, and mistakes the value of things.

Now religion is our cure; it is God's merciful communication of such rules and discipline of life, as may serve to deliver us from the infatuation and ignorance of our fallen state. It is to teach us the knowledge of ourselves, and all things about us, that we may no longer act like madmen; it is to teach us the true value of things, that we may know our good and evil, and not be as idiots in the choice of things.

Now fools and madmen have their paradise, and are pleased with their imaginary happiness; this makes them averse from all methods of cure.

For this reason, God presses his instructions upon us with terrors and threatenings, and makes those virtues which are the natural good and cure of our souls, such duties to him, as he will punish the neglect of.

So that the power of God is mercifully employed to move us to such a reasonable way of life, as is necessary for our happiness.

Some people are so weak, as to wonder, that what we call sin, should be so odious to God, or what it can signify to God, whether we are wise or foolish.

Let such consider, that God is wisdom and reason itself, and consequently every thing that is contrary to reason and wisdom, is contrary to his nature; so that a state of sin is a state of contrariety to God. To ask therefore why God hates all sin, is the same thing as to ask why God cannot tell any sort of lie; it is because every deviation from truth is contrary to his nature, which is truth itself; so every instance of sin, as it is an unreasonable act, is contrary to his nature, who is reason itself.

There is therefore a necessity, from the nature of things, that every creature be delivered from sin, before it can enter into the beatific presence of God; for if God could reward wicked beings, and make them happy by the enjoyment of his presence, he would as much cease to act according to the nature of things, as if he should punish a being that lived in innocence; for to punish innocence, and to reward sin, are equally contrary to the nature and reason of things.

This observation may teach us to admire the excellency of the Christian religion, which restores sinners to God by so great an atonement for sin, and which only admits the repentance and devotion of fallen man, through the merits and mediation of the Son of God.

To return: Let such people also consider, that even reasonable men have a necessary dislike of fools and madmen, they cannot possibly make them the objects of their pleasure and affection.

But now, if some things are so odious in themselves, that even the reason of man cannot but abhor them, how much more odious, how much more contrary to the perfection of the divine nature, must the folly and madness of sin be?

Thus if we consider what reason is in ourselves, that it necessarily dislikes unreasonable persons as well as things; we may have some notion how all sin and sinners, that is, all beings which act contrary to reason, must be in a state of the utmost contrariety to God, who is the highest reason.

God is love, yet it is certain, that he can only lov such things as are lovely; so God is goodness, yet he cannot make sinners happy, because there is as much contradiction to reason and perfection in making sinners happy, as in loving things that are not truly lovely, or in hating things that are not hateful. This may serve to give us, in some measure, a true idea of the nature of religion and the nature of sin.

That religion is God's gracious method of delivering us from the unreasonableness and corruption of our natures, that by complying with its rules and discipline we may be so altered in our natures, so restored to reason, as to be fit for the rewards of an infinitely wise and perfect being.

That sin is the misery and disorder, the madness and folly of our nature, which as necessarily separates us from God, as God is contrary to all unreasonableness.

I have just mentioned these things, to help us to conceive rightly, what is meant by the reasonableness and necessity of those tempers which religion requires. And I hope this is sufficient to give any one a positive assurance, that religion is so far from being an imposition upon us, consisting of needless duties, that it is founded in the nature and reason of things, and is as necessary to restore us to the enjoyment of God, as it is necessary that God should love things according as they are lovely.

For let any one carefully consider this proposition, whether it be not absolutely certain, that God loveth all things, accordingly as they are lovely. Is not this as certain, as that God is reason itself? Could he be infinitely reasonable, or reason in perfection, if he did not regard things according to their natures? hating only those things that are truly hateful, and loving things so far as they are lovely. To act by any other rule than the reason and nature of things, is to act by humour and caprice. Let this therefore teach us, that as we are In ourselves, so we are necessarily either odious or acceptable to God.

So far as we cease from sin and suffer ourselves to be made wise and reasonable by the wisdom and reason of religion; so far we make ourselves objects of the love of that infinitely perfect Being, who necessarily loves beings as they are lovely in their nature.

And so far as we continue in the madness and folly of sin, and neglect the rules of religion, which would deliver us from the guilt and slavery of it; so far we make it necessary for that perfect Being to hate us, who cannot but hate things accordingly as they are in themselves hateful.

Some people, either through self-love, or some confused opinion of God and themselves, are always fancying themselves to be particular favourites of God, imagining all their little successes, or blessings, in their health and circumstances above other people, to be distinguishing marks of God's particular kindness towards them.

But such persons must consider, that God is reason itself; that he is subject to no particular fondness, no more than he is capable of weakness; and that he can no more love them with any particular love, that is not an act of the highest reason, than he can lie, or act contrary to the truth.

They should consider, that the things of this life, its successes and prosperities, are so far from being marks of God's particular favour, that afflictions have a much better claim to it; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, amp;c.

When such people fancy themselves in the particular favour of God, they should consider, that to be loved by God, is to be loved by infinite reason and wisdom, and that reason can only love or approve things as they are conformable to it. To be approved by reason, we must act conformably to reason; and to be approved by the highest reason we must act conformably to the highest reason.

So that when our lives are conformable to the highest reason, then may we believe that so far as they are such, so far are they in the favour of God, who is the highest reason. To fancy that anything else can make us favourites of God, is mere ignorance and pride, and owing to the same vanity and self-love, which makes some people think that they are admired and esteemed by all that know them.

For so sure as God is reason itself, so sure is it, that to be loved by God, and to be approved by the highest reason, is the same thing; so that if he, whose life is not conformable to the highest reason, imagines that he is particularly beloved by God, he is guilty of the same absurdity, as if he believed that God is not the highest reason, or reason in perfection.

It is not more certain that there is but one God, than it is certain that there is but one way of making ourselves objects of his love, namely, by conforming and acting according to the highest reason. When our lives are agreeable to reason, and the nature of things, then are our lives agreeable to God.

Now so far as we act conformably to religion, so far we act according to the highest reason, and draw near to God, by a wisdom that comes from God, and was revealed unto us, that it might make us such reasonable beings, as to be fit objects of his eternal love.

For a religion from God must be according to the nature of God, requiring no other change of thoughts or actions but such as is conformable to truth and reason.

Now the reasonableness of actions consists in their fitness to be done; there is a reasonableness in being thankful for mercies; there is a reasonableness in rejoicing at things that are joyful; and so in all other actions or tempers, they are either reasonable or unreasonable, as they are agreeable or contrary to the nature of things.

This is what I would have understood by the reasonableness of all religious duties or tempers; they are all required because they are as suitable to the nature and reason of things, as it is suitable to the reason of things to be thankful for mercies, or fear things that are truly dreadful.

Thus, for instance, humility is nothing else but a right judgment of ourselves, and is only so far enjoined as it is suitable to the truth of our state; for to think worse of ourselves than we really are, is no more a virtue than to make five to be less than four.

On the contrary, he that is proud, offends as much against truth and reason, and judges as falsely of himself, as the madman who fancies himself to be a king, and the straw, to which he is chained, to be a throne of state.

Having observed thus much concerning the reasonableness of tempers or duties to which religion demands, I proceed now to show, wherein the reasonableness and necessity of self-denial consists.

If a person was to walk upon a rope across some great river, and he was bid to deny himself the pleasure of walking in silver shoes, or looking about at the beauty of the waves, or listening to the noise of sailors; if he was commanded to deny himself the advantage of fishing by the way, would there be any hardship in such self-denial? Would not such self-denials be as reasonable, as commanding him to love things that will do him good, or to avoid things that are hurtful?

Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, that leadeth unto life, saith our blessed Saviour. Now if Christians are to walk in a narrow way that leadeth to eternal life, the chief business of a Christian must be, to deny himself all those things which may either stop or lead him out of his narrow way. And if they think that pleasures and indulgences are consistent with their keeping this narrow way, they think as reasonably as if the man upon the rope should think, that he might safely use silver shoes, or stop in his way to catch fish.

Again, if a man that was a slave to sottish and stupifying pleasures, that rendered him averse from all exercises of the mind, was yet obliged, in order to save his life, to attain, to such or such a degree of mathematical knowledge, must it not be as necessary for such a one to deny himself those indulgences which increased his stupidity, as it would be necessary to study the relations of figures?

Now this is the foundation of all Christian self-denial; we are born and bred in slavery to sin and corrupt tempers, and are only to be saved by putting off this old man, and being renewed in holiness and purity of life. The denials therefore of religion, are only the necessary means of salvation, as they are necessary to lessen the corruption of our nature, destroy our old habits, alter the taste and temper of our minds, and prepare us to relish and aspire after holiness and perfection.

For since our souls are in a state of corruption, and our life is a state of probation, in order to alter and remove this corruption, it is certain, that every thing and every way of life, which nourishes and increases our corruption, is as much to be avoided, as those things which beget in us purity and holiness, are to be sought after.

A man that wants his health, is as well, and for the same reasons, to avoid such things as nourish his illness, as he is to take medicines that have a healing quality. Self-denial is, therefore, as essential to the Christian life as prayer is; it being equally necessary to deny ourselves such things as support our corruption, as it is necessary to pray for those things which will do us good, and purify our natures.

The whole of the matter is this, Christians are called from a state of disorder, sin, and ignorance, to a state of holiness and resemblance of the divine nature. If, therefore, there are any things, or any ways, that corrupt our minds, support our vanity, increase our blindness, or nourish sensuality; all these are as necessary to be avoided, as it is necessary to be holy.

If there are any denials or mortifications that purify and enlighten the soul, that lessen the power of bodily passions, that raise us to a heavenly affection, and make us taste and relish the things that be of God, these are as necessary to be practised, as it is necessary to believe in Jesus Christ.

So that the matter comes to this; if there are no indulgences in eating to do us harm, then fasting is of no use; but if there are, if they enslave the soul, and give it a sensual taste, then we are as much obliged to abstain from what does us this harm, as we are obliged to pray for any thing that can do us good.

No Christian that knows any thing of the Gospel, can doubt whether fasting be a common duty of Christianity, since our Saviour has placed it along with secret alms and private prayer, When thou fastest, anoint thy head, and wash thy face, that thou appear not unto men to fast, but to thy Father, which is in secret, and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly. Matt. vii. 15

So that the same instructions, and the same reasons, are given for private fasting, as for secret alms and private prayer, that thy Father, which seeth in secret, may reward thee openly. Now as it is manifestly entitled to the same reward, it is manifestly put upon the same foot as private prayer, and as equally acceptable to God.

Eating and drinking are the common support of life; but then, as they are the support of a corrupt life, the nourishment of a disordered body that weighs down the soul, whose appetites and tempers are in a state of enmity with the life and purity of the soul, it is necessary that we take care so to support the life of the body, as not to occasion the sickness and death of the soul.

The fall of man consists very much in the fall of the soul into the dominion and power of the body, whose joy, and health, and strength, is often the slavery, weakness, and infirmity of the soul.

How far our bodies affect our habits, or ways of thinking, may be seen by the difference between sickness and health, youth and old age. These different states of the body alter the whole turn of our minds, and give us new ways of thinking, all owing to the different strength of bodily appetites and tempers. No sooner is the body weakened by any occasion, but the soul is more at liberty, speaks higher for itself, and begins to act more reasonably.

What is the reason that a midnight reflection goes generally deeper than a thought at any other time? No reason can well be assigned, but the peace and tranquillity of the body, which gives the soul a liberty of seeing farther into things than at any other time.

The difference between the same man, full and fasting, is almost the difference of two persons; a man that, in the morning, finds himself fit for any meditations, is, after a full meal, changed into another creature, fit only for idle amusements, or the yawnings of an animal.

He has not only created a dulness in his soul, but has perverted its taste, for he can be pleased with a romance, or impertinent history; at the same time he has no relish for a book of devotion, that requires less attention.

I mention this to show, that fasting has a nearer relation to all religious tempers than is generally thought; and that indulgent, or full feeding, does not only dull the mind, but more particularly gives it a dullness towards the things of religion. If it were not thus, a book of religious reflections would be as acceptable at such times as those other books which require as much, or more attention.

And the reason of this is plain, because all our tempers and desires are always suitable to the state we are in; if we are in a state of sensual joy, feeling the happiness of a full stomach and heated blood, we relish or desire nothing but what suits with it. For this reason plays and romances, and vain diversions, can entertain a man that has eat as long as he could; but lectures upon morality, or discourses upon death and judgment, would tire him into sleep. What we observe of the jaundice, that it makes us see all things yellow, is, in a certain degree, true of every state of the body; it makes us conceive things, with some degree of likeness, to the condition it is then in. Every alteration in the body gives some alteration to our way of conceiving the same things.

As he, therefore, that would see things in their proper colours, must first cure himself of the jaundice; so he that would apprehend things according to their natures, must take care that his body be so ordered as to have as little a share as possible in his judgments.

When a man has his stomach full of wind, and feels no pleasant enjoyment of his body, you can hardly propose any thing to him that will appear reasonable; do but stay till his stomach is altered, till he has had a full and cheerful meal, and he will be as naturally in a better temper as any other animal that has filled its belly.

When men have been unreasonably out of temper, through the mere motions of the body, I believe they often condemn themselves afterwards; but then they do not consider that the contrary state is a state of the same slavery to the blind motions of the body, and liable to the same condemnation. For if a full and pleasant meal makes us so gay and cheerful, as to laugh and be pleased with the vainest things, we are then as unreasonable, and as mere slaves to our bodies, as when a cold or empty stomach shall make us angry at every thing.

For it is as great a contradiction to reason and wisdom to be pleased with things or persons, because our body is in a state of joy, as it is to be angry and displeased at things or persons, because an easterly wind, or an indigested meal has soured our spirits.

Now both these states are equally states of slavery to the body; equally expose our folly, and have the same contrariety to religion. A man is as far from religious wisdom, when full feeding has made him merry, vain, and trifling, as when a contrary state of body makes him sour, angry, and fretful.

It is the business, therefore, of religion, to put an end to these states of slavery, to deliver man from the blind laws of flesh and blood, and give him a wisdom and constancy, a taste and judgment suitable to the reason and wisdom of the laws of God; to fill our souls with such principles of peace as may give us habits of tranquillity, superior to the changeable tempers of our bodies.

Now fasting, as it is a denial of bodily indulgences, as it disciplines the body into a state of obedience, and contradicts its appetites, is the most constant and universal means of procuring liberty and freedom of mind.

For it is the love of our body, and too much care of its enjoyments, that makes us too sensible of its demands, and subject to its tempers. Whatever we nourish and cherish, so far gains an interest in us, and rules us in the same degree that it has got our affections. Till therefore religion has entered us into a state of self-denial, we live in a state that supports the slavery and corruption of our natures.

For every indulgence of the body in eating and drinking is adding to its power, and making all our ways of thinking subservient to it.

A man that makes every day a day of full and cheerful meals, will, by degrees, make the happiness of every day depend upon it, and consider everything with regard to it.

He will go to church, or stay at home, as it suits with his dinner, and not scruple to tell you that he generally eats too heartily to go to the afternoon service.

Now such people are under a worse disorder of body than he that has the jaundice, and have their judgment more perverted than he that sees all things yellow.

For how can they be said to perceive the difference of things, who have more taste for the preparations of the kitchen than the joys and comforts of the house of God; who choose rather to make themselves unfit for divine service, than to baulk the pleasures of a full meal? And this not by chance, or upon some unusual occasion, but by a constant intended course of life.

Let such people deal faithfully with themselves, and search out their spirit. Can they think that they are born again of God, that they have the Spirit of Christ, who are thus subject to the pleasures of gluttony? Can they be said to treat their bodies as temples of the Holy Ghost, who make them unfit for the holy service of public worship? Can they be said to offer their bodies unto God as a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice? Can they be said to love God with all their heart, and all their soul, or to have forsaken all to follow Christ, who will not so much as forsake half a meal for the sake of divine worship?

I know it will be thought too severe that I have called this gluttony, because it is the practice of numbers of people of worth and reputation; but I hope they will turn their dislike of the name into a dislike of the thing; for it is certainly gluttony, as picking pockets is stealing.

The sin of gluttony is the sin of over-eating, of being too much given to full meals: now this may be difficult in some instances to state exactly; yet he that owns he eats so much, as renders him indisposed for the public worship of God, has determined against himself, and put his own case out of all question. For if there be such a sin, as the sin of over-eating, it must surely then be committed, when we eat too much to attend upon the service of the church.

Men may fancy that they are only chargeable with gluttony, who eat till they surfeit their bodies; they may think those only guilty of drunkenness, who drink till they have lost their senses: but there is a much surer rule to go by, given them by the Spirit of God; Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. All, therefore, in eating and drinking, that is not within the bounds of the glory of God, is offered to something that is not the glory of God; it is offered to the corruption and sensuality of our natures; it is the sin of intemperance, and has the sin of indevotion added to it, when it is indulged at a time that keeps us from the public worship of God.

Let such people examine their own hearts, and see what opinion they have of divine service. Can they look upon it as doing God's will on earth as it is done in heaven? Can they look upon it as entering into the presence of God, as approaching the throne of grace? Can they esteem it to be the nourishment and support of their souls, a necessary means of securing the divine assistance, as a most acceptable way of pleasing God, and securing their eternal happiness, who are not afraid to eat and drink till they are indisposed, and unwilling to attend to it? If they still have just notions of the nature of divine service, let them think of these words of our blessed Saviour, If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.

But if they look upon it as of less concern than a full meal, if they think that there is no occasion for exactness in it, it is time they were told, that they have not the love of God abiding in them.

For if they did really hunger and thirst after righteousness, which is the true love of God, they would rejoice at every opportunity of entering farther into his favour; they would go to the house of God, the abode of his presence, with more joy than to any other place, and think those days the most happy that were most devoted to the cares and joys of a life with God to all eternity.

They would cut off a right hand, or pluck out a right eye, rather than be hindered from those helps which are to raise their hope, enliven their faith, and form their souls to a delight and joy in God.

If they want this zeal towards God, they want a zeal, which is the life and spirit of a Christian, which distinguishes a disciple of Christ from those who live without God in the world.

I have spoken the more home to this point, because it is so allowed a practice, which as unavoidably destroys the true spirit and temper of religion, as any things that are notoriously sinful.

Indeed a constant course of full feeding is the death of the soul, and every day, that is a day of such happiness, is a day lost to religion.

When a man has rejoiced himself with full eating and drinking, he is like any other animal, disposed only to play or idleness. He has no more feeling of sin than he has of hunger, can no more perceive himself to be a miserable fallen creature, than he can perceive himself to be a beggar, and consequently is no more affected with any forms of confession, or repentance, than if he was, every day, to confess that he was a starving beggar.

For this course of self-enjoyment is as contrary to humility, contrition, and a true sense of sin, as it is contrary to a state of beggary and want; and conse quently a man in such happiness, can no more sincerely deplore the weight of sin, than he can feel himself in the misery of poverty.

If, therefore, religion is to be the state and temper of our minds; if it is to be the ruling taste and relish of our souls; if its goods and evils are to govern our actions, it is as necessary to renounce sensuality, and mortify our bodies, as it is necessary to resist temptations. For abstinence, or self-denial, is not only a good, advisable, and reasonable practice, but is a constant, necessary, and universal duty, and enters farther into the cure of our souls than any other practice. It is as necessary for a Christian, that would get rid of the disorders of his nature, and lessen the weight of sin, as it is necessary for a man in a dropsy to abstain from drink, or a man in a fever to refrain from such things as inflame his blood.

Indeed this self-denial is the chief and most general exercise of the Christian life, and is the very form and substance of every virtue; so far as we deny our natural tempers, so far we seem to be advanced in virtue.

We are so far humble, as we deny ourselves in the instances of pride; so far heavenly-minded, as we deny our earthly inclinations; so far charitable, as we deny our tempers of self-love and envy; and so, in every virtue, it seems to have its chief foundation in the denial of some corrupt temper of our natures.

I know some people object that fasting is not an universal duty, that it is rather like some particular medicine or remedy, that is only necessary for some particular cases, and particular constitutions.

To this it may be answered, that if by fasting is meant an entire abstinence from all food, for such or such a certain space of time; that fasting, in that sense, is not an universal and constant duty. But then it ought to be observed, that this is no more the nature of fasting than any particular form of confession, of such or such a length, is the precise nature of repentance.

For as repentance does not consist in any stated fixed degrees of sorrow and pain for sin, which is to be the common repentance for all men, in all states, and at all times; but is such an exercise of grief and contrition, as is suited to every one's particular state: so fasting is not any fixed degree of abstinence from all food, which is to be the common measure of fasting to all men, in all states, and at all times; but is such an exercise, abstinence, and self-denial, as is proper to every one's particular state.

Now if we understand fasting in this sense, in which it ought to be understood, as an abstinence from such food, and pleasures and degrees of feeding, as are improper in every state of life; such an abstinence as to destroy sensuality, lessen the corruption of our natures, and make us relish and taste spiritual enjoyments; in this sense, fasting is as constant and universal a duty as repentance.

For as repentance is an universal duty, because the reason of it is common to all men; so this fasting is necessary to all men, because sensuality, fleshly lusts, and the corruption of bodily tempers, is the universal corruption of all men.

It is sometimes also objected, that fasting cannot be an universal duty, because some people's constitutions will not suffer them to eat enough for their health.

To this it may be answered, that some people may be so infirm, that they cannot attend at the public worship of God; yet surely public worship is an universal duty, though some people's constitutions may make them incapable of going to it.

Secondly; This objection is only of weight against fasting, as it signifies an entire abstinence from all food for a certain space of time, but is of no force against such an abstinence, as I have shown to be the common duty of all Christians.

Thirdly; Persons of weak and infirm constitutions, have often as much necessity of self-denial as others of the most healthful bodies; for their very state, it may be, has taught them indulgence; by being accustomed to so much care of themselves, they become no better than perpetual nurses of themselves, and consequently are too much devoted to that which is not the one thing needful.

Weakly people may as well be epicures, and have the same sensuality to conquer, as other people, and consequently have the same necessity of their degree of abstinence and denial that others have.

Let such people have recourse to the example of Timothy, who was an apostolical bishop. His history teaches us, that he was weakly, and subject to frequent infirmities; who notwithstanding he may be supposed to have enjoyed the extraordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost, yet in this state of divine greatness, and bodily weakness, he wanted the authority and advice of an apostle, to persuade him to drink any thing besides water. This we are sufficiently taught by the apostle's giving this advice in his epistle to him, drink no longer water; that is, nothing but water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities.

Lastly; The world abounds with people, who are weakly and tender merely by their indulgences; they have bad nerves, low spirits, and frequent indispositions, through irregularity, idleness, and indulgence.

Now these people, it is true, are not fit for fasting, and perhaps if they were to deal faithfully with themselves, they would find, that they are as unfit for most other exercises of religion, and consequently if their condition might be pleaded as an objection against the necessity of fasting, it might as well be pleaded against the necessity of half the duties of Christianity.

Upon the whole matter it appears, that fasting is a constant universal duty, and that it is liable to no other exceptions, than such as are common to several other great duties of religion.

It is no fixed degree of sorrow, that is the common repentance of all men; it is no particular sum of money, that is the common charity of all men; it is no fixed form, or length, or hour, of prayer, that is the common devotion of all men: yet all these are constant and universal duties.

In like manner, though fasting may be subject to all the same variations, yet it is a constant and universal duty.

Justus is a grave sober man, he is very angry at those people who neglect or ridicule fasting; he thinks they know nothing of religion.

Thus far Justus is very right, and knowing thus much, one would wonder that he is so inconsistent with himself; for presently after this, Justus will tell you, that he never fasts but upon Good Friday, and the thirtieth of January.

If Justus had lived before the murder of King Charles, he had had but one fast in the year, yet, in all likelihood, he would have then stood up for the doctrine of fasting.

If a man was to be angry at those who neglect or despise the service of the Church, as people that know nothing of religion, and then tell you that he himself never goes thither but on Good Friday and the thirtieth of January, you would say, that he knew nothing of the nature of church service.

Now Justus shows the same ignorance of the nature of fasting. For if prayer and repentance, and the service of the church, were not common acts of devotion, and right and necessary ways of worshipping God, they would not be necessary upon Good Friday, or any other particular day.

In like manner, unless fasting was a common and necessary part of religion, something that was always a proper means of applying to God, it would neither be necessary nor acceptable on those particular days.

For it is not the day that makes the duty to be necessary, but the day happens to be a proper occasion of exercising a necessary duty.

Some great calamity happens to you; you do very well to make it an occasion of exercising great devotion, but if you stay till some other calamity happens before you pray again, or think that prayer is only proper in times of calamity, you know nothing of devotion.

It is the same thing in fasting; some great occasion may justly call you to it; but if you forbear fasting till such great occasions happen again, or think that fasting is only proper for such public occasions, you know nothing of the nature of fasting.

If Justus was to say that he never repents but on those public days, he might as easily defend himself, as when he says, he only fasts, at those times.

For is there any benefit in fasting on those particular days? Does it add any thing to your piety and devotion? Does it make your repentance and sorrow for sin more real and affecting? Does it calm and abate your passions, lessen the power of your body, and put you in a better state of devotion, than when you take your usual meals? If it has not something of this effect, where is the use of it at such times when you would have your devotions the best performed? And if it has this effect, how comes it, that you will have but one or two such days in the year? Why will you not thus affect your soul, thus assist your devotions, thus discipline your body, thus allay your passions, thus raise your heart, thus humble yourself, till the day comes on which King Charles was murdered? Is not this like staying till then before you repent.

Our blessed Saviour saith,

But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face, that thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father, which is in secret, and thy Father, which is in secret, shall reward thee openly. (Matt. vi. 17.)

Here our Saviour's advice relates wholly to private fasting, to which other people are to be strangers; to such a fasting as is a secret service to God, who will therefore highly reward it. Yet Justus tells you, that he fasts only twice in the year, and that on public days. Now what is this to be called? Is it weakness, or perverseness?

If you was to ask me, whether frequent private prayer be a necessary duty, I should think it sufficient to read to you the following passage:

But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.

Nothing need be added to this authority; the necessity and advantage of private prayer is here so expressly taught, that there is no room left to doubt about it.

Justus readily acknowledges all this; how comes it then, Justus, that you know nothing of the necessity and advantage of private fasting? How comes it that the same authority, and the same words, do not teach you as much in one place as in another? Has not our Saviour expressed himself exactly in the same manner, and given the same advice, and proposed the same reward to private fasting, as to private prayer?

Farther; When the disciples of our Lord could not cast the evil spirit out of a man that was a lunatic, he not only tells them, that it was through want of faith, but also gives them a very important instruction in these words:

Howbeit this kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting. (Matt. xvii. 21.)

Now does this look as if fasting was an occasional thing, only for a day or two in the year? Is it ranked with prayer, as having the same common nature, as being equally prevailing with God? And is not this sufficient to teach us, that we must think of fasting, as we think of prayer; that it is a proper way of devotion, a right method of applying to God? And if that prayer is most prevailing, and enters farthest into heaven, which is attended with fasting, it is proof enough surely, that fasting is to be a common ordinary part of our devotion.

Is it sufficient and powerful enough to cast out devils, and cure lunatics; and shall we neglect it, when we pray against the evil tempers and passions which possess our hearts? Shall we not pray to God in the most powerful prevailing manner that we can?

If we were to fast without praying, would not this be a way of worship of our own invention? And if we pray, and neglect fasting, is it not equally choosing a worship of our own? For he that has taught us the use and advantage of prayer, has, in the same words, taught us the same things of fasting, and has also joined them together, as having the same power with God.

If, therefore, Justus will take his religion from Scripture, he must own, that fasting is of the nature of prayer, that it has the same authority from Christ, and that he who only fasts on a public day or two in a year, no more observes the whole duty of Christian fasting than he who only attends some public yearly days of prayer, can be said to fulfil the whole duty of Christian devotion.

To proceed: We may also observe, that the reason of self-denial and abstinence is constant and perpetual, because we are perpetually united to a body that is more or less fit to join with our souls in acts of holiness, according to the state that it is As therefore it is always necessary to take care what thoughts and inclinations we indulge in our minds, so it is equally necessary, that we be constantly careful how we alter the state of our bodies, or indulge them in such gratifications, as may make them less fit for the purposes of an holy life.

For since there are states of the body which favour holiness, and these states depend much upon our manner of living, it is absolutely necessary that we avoid every degree of indulgence, every kind of irregularity and idleness, or other course of life, that may make our bodies less active, less pure, and less conformable to the duties of religion.

And this is to be done, as I said before, not only as a reasonable and advisable thing, but as of the utmost necessity, it being as essential to holiness, to purify our bodies, and practise a strict temperance, as it is necessary to practise a strict charity.

Now Christian temperance is no more that which may pass for temperance in the sight of men, than Christian charity is that which is visible to the world.

A worldly man may think himself sufficiently temperate, when he only abstains from such excesses, as may make him fitter to enjoy a healthful sensuality.

But Christian temperance is of quite another nature, and for other ends, it is to put the body into a state of purity and submission, and give the soul a divine and heavenly taste.

It is therefore to be observed, that Christian temperance is never enough practised, but when it puts the body in the fittest state for devotion, and other acts of holiness: when our bodies have all that good done to them, have all that purification, and right tempers, which abstinence and self-denial can give them, then do we practise Christian temperance.

There is no other rule than this to go by; since Christian temperance is in order to holiness, purity, and heavenly affection, he can only be said to be truly temperate, whose temperance is most serviceable to the highest degrees of holiness.

And to stop short of any known degrees of temperance, is like stopping short of any known degrees of charity. It is therefore as necessary to practise all the exercises of self-denial and strict abstinence, as it is necessary to aspire after real holiness.

For as our bodies are constant, and home enemies, and have a mighty influence in all our actions, so far as we preserve them in a state suitable to holiness, so far we preserve ourselves fit for the exercise of religion.

It is out of all question, that there is a purity and impurity of our bodies, as well as of our souls; that is, there are some states and tempers of our bodies, that favour and incline to acts of virtue, and others that as much incline to all sorts of sensuality.

This is as certain as that gluttony and drunkenness dispose men to all sorts of sins, and give them a disrelish for all kinds of holiness. For as these states of life have the utmost contrariety to religion; so every approach towards them is, in a certain degree, partaking of them.

A man that lives in such a state, as not to be called either a glutton or a drunkard, may yet be so near them, as to partake of those tempers and inclinations which are the effects of gluttony and drunkenness.

For there are such degrees in these, as in other ways of life. A man may be vain and uncharitable, yet not so as to be remarkable for his vanity and uncharitableness, so he may also be under the guilt and evil effects of eating and drinking, though not so as to be esteemed either a glutton or intemperate.

So that the only security for a good Christian, is to make it the care of his life, to resist all enjoy- ments that cherish vanity and uncharitableness, not only in such degrees as are scandalous and visible in the eyes of men, but such as inwardly hurt the humility and charity of his mind.

In like manner as to eating and drinking, he is constantly to practice such abstinence as may secure him not only from sensuality in the sight of the world, but such as may best alter, purify, and humble his body, and make it the holy habitation of a soul devoted to a spiritual life.

St. Paul saith, "I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection, lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a cast-away." (1 Cor. ix.)

Let it therefore be observed, that the apostle practised this self-denial and mortification, not only as a good and advisable thing, and suitable to holiness, but as of the last necessity. It was not as he was an apostle, and that he might be fitter for the miraculous gifts of the Holy Ghost, but it was to secure his salvation, lest when he had preached to others, he should be a cast-away.

Let it be considered that this apostle, who lived in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake, who was also full of signs and wonders, and mighty deeds, and who had been caught up into the third heavens; yet reckons all his virtues as unsecure, and his salvation in danger, without this severity of self-denial; he thought all his other advancements in piety without this, to be as vain a labour as beating the air. (2 Cor. xii.)

So run I, saith he, not as uncertainly; by which he plainly teaches us, that he who does not thus run, who does not thus mortify the body, runs uncertainly, and fighteth to as little purpose as he that beateth the air;

Can they therefore who live in ease and softness, and bodily indulgences, who study and seek after every gratification, be said to be of St. Paul's religion, or to be governed by that spirit which governed him?

An apostle preaching the Gospel with signs and wonders, in the midst of distress and persecution, thought his own salvation in danger, without this subjection of his own body; and shall we, who are born in the dregs of time, who have no works like his to appeal to, think it safe to feed and indulge in ease and plenty?

A man may indeed practise the outward part of a Christian; he may be orthodox in his faith, and regular in the forms of religion, and yet live in ease and indulgence. But if he would put on Christ, and be clothed with the humility and meekness of his true disciples, if he would love his enemies, and be in Christ a new creature; if he would live by faith, and have his conversation in heaven; if he would be born again of God, and overcome the world, he must lay the foundation of all these graces in the mortification and subjection of his body. For not only religion, but reason can show us, that almost every ill temper, every hinderance of virtue, every clog in our way of piety, and the strength of every temptation chiefly arises from the state of our bodies. __________________________________________________________________