the perfect man. They depend not, like thofe of the body, on a thousand things that are not in our power; but only on God, and our own integrity. But this part of the objection I have, I think, for ever baffled, fect. 1. chap. 4. These obftacles of Perfection being thus removed, and the mind of man being fully convinced of the happiness that refults from a ftate of Perfection, and of his obligation to furmount the difficulties which obftruct his way to it, there seems to be nothing now left to disappoint the fuccefs of this difcourfe, but somewhat too much fondness for the world, or fomewhat too much indulgence to the body; which I am next, tho' but very briefly, to confider.

§. 4. There is a love of the world, which tho' it be not, either for the matter, or degree of it, criminal enough to destroy our fincerity, and our hopes of falvation; yet is it ftrong enough to abate our vigour, hinder our Perfection, and bereave us of many degrees of pleasure at prefent, and glory hereafter. The indications of this kind of love of the world, are too much concern for the pomp and fhew of life; too much exactness in the modes and cuftoms of it; too quick a fenfe of honour and reputation, pre-eminence and praise; too much hafte, and too much industry to grow

Gg 2

rich,

rich, to add house to house, land to land, and to load our felves with thick and heavy clay; too brisk a relish of the pleasures of the world; too great a gaiety of mind upon the fucceffes; too much dejection upon the difafters and disappointments of it; too much care, and too much diligence; an incumbring and embroiling one's felf too far in worldly affairs; too much diverfion, too much eafe. Thefe, I fay, are the fymptoms of a mind tainted with a love of the world, tho' not fo far as to sickness and death. However, it will be enough to check the vigour, and dilute the relish of the mind. Now, the only way to overcome this defect, and to captivate the mind entirely to the love and fervice of religion and virtue, is to confider frequently and seriously the rewards of Perfection, the pleasure that will attend it in another life. Had the young man in the gospel done this; had he had as lively a notion, and as true an estimate of the riches of eternity, as he had of temporal ones, he would never have gone away forrowful, when he was advised to have exchanged the treafures of earth for thofe of heaven. Had the foul of Martha been as much taken up with the thoughts of eternity, as that of Mary, fhe would have made the fame choice as he did. They who often think, how foon the fafhion, the pomp and grandeur of this world

paffes

ours,

be

paffes away, and how much better their heavenly country is than their earthly; how much more lafting, and how much more glorious the New Jerufalem, that city that has foundations, whofe builder and maker is God, than this city of which may overthrown in a moment; will neither weep, nor rejoyce, with too much paffion; neither buy, nor poffefs, with too much application of mind. In one word, he that fo often and devoutly thinks of that day, wherein Chrift, who is our life, fhall appear, and we also appear with him in glory, that he comes to love and long for it; fuch an one will have no great tafte of the honours, or the pleasures, or the interests of life ;"nor will he be flothful or remifs, but fervent in Spirit, ferving the Lord: whatever degrees of affection he had for any thing of that nature, they will all vanish; he will have no emulation, but for good works; no ambition, but for glory; I mean, that which is eternal. In the purfuit of this will he lay out the strength and vigour of his mind, for this he will retrench his profit, for this he will deny his pleasure, for this he will be content to be obfcure, mean, and laborious; for if the world be once crucified to him, he will the more easily bear the being crucified to it.

§. 5. After all, there is an Infirmity in the flesh, againft which if we do not guard our felves, if we do not struggle heartily, we fhall miscarry. The spirit is willing, faid our Saviour, but the flesh is weak. Without much care, and much watchfulness, the vigour of our minds will be relaxed; the exultation of our fpirits will flag and droop; and we fhall foon lose the relish there is in religion. The more effectual remedies against this frailty and fickleness of our nature, are two. First, Godly fear; and this, the purity and prefence of God, the ftrictnefs and the impartiality of a judgment o come, the lofs of an eternal crown, the terrors of eternal punishment, the number and ftrength of temptations, the deplorable falls of the greateft faints, and the confcience of our own weakness, will not fail to work in us. Let us then, not only begin, but also perfect holiness in the fear of God. Bleed is he that feareth always. Secondly, The ftedfaftness of hope; of hope, that waits and longs for the coming of our Lord. This will invite us often to take a view of Canaan; this will fill the mind often with the beauties and the glories of eternity; this will often call to our thoughts, the fecurity, the reft, the tranfports of another world, the love of God and of Jefus, incorruptible crowns, the hallelujahs of angels, the fhouts of vic

tory,

tory, the fruit of the tree of life, the ftreams that water the paradife of God. And every fuch object will chide us out of our weakness and cowardife; every fuch thought will upbraid us out of our laziness and negligence; we shall hear always founding in our ears the words of Jefus to his difciples, What! can ye not watch with me one hour, and yet do you expect to reign with me for ever? Or thofe to the Church of Laodicea, To him that overcometh will I grant to fit with me upon my throne; as I bave overcome, and am fat down with my Father on his throne.

And now, Reader, if you find I have done you any service, if you think your felf under any obligation to me, the return I beg from you is, that you will first offer praise and thanks unto God; and next, whenever you are in the vigour of the fpirit, and the ardors of faith and love before God in prayer, put up thefe, or the like petitions for me, which I now offer up for my felf.

O my