SERM. Quæris quid profecerim? By it all conversation becometh tolerable, grateful, and useful. For a pious man is not easily disturbed with any crossness or perverseness, any infirmity or impertinency of those he converseth with: he can bear the weaknesses and the failings of his company; he can by wholesome reflections upon all occurrences advantage and please himselfi. In fine, piety rendereth a man a true friend and a good companion to himself; satisfied in himself, amicus esse able to converse freely and pleasantly with his own Sen. Ep. 6. thoughts. It is for the want of pious inclinations mili cœpi. and dispositions, that solitude (a thing which sometimes cannot be avoided, which often should be embraced) is to most men so irksome and tedious, that men do carefully shun themselves, and fly from their own thoughts; that they decline all converse with their own souls, and hardly dare look upon their own hearts and consciences: whence they become aliens from home, wholly unacquainted with themselves, most ignorant of their own nearest concernments, no faithful friends or pleasant companions to themselves; so for refuge and ease they unseasonably run into idle or lewd conversation, where Nunquam they disorder and defile themselves k. But the pious lus, quam man is, like Scipio, never less alone, than when cum solus. alone: his solitude and retirement is not only tole minus so i · Συνδιάγειν τε οὗτος ἑαυτῷ βούλεται· ἡδέως γὰρ αὐτὸ ποιεῖ.-(Aristot. Eth. ix. 4.) τῶν τε γὰρ πεπραγμένων ἐπιτερπεῖς αἱ μνῆμαι, καὶ τῶν μελ λόντων ἐλπίδες ἀγαθαί. k Nemo est, cui non satius sit cum quolibet esse, quam secum. Sen. Ep. 25. Ἔνιοι τὸν ἴδιον βίον, ὡς ἀτερπέστατον θέαμα, προσιδεῖν οὐχ ὑπομένουσιν, &c. Plut. περὶ Πολυπρ. p. 916. Ζητοῦσιν οἱ μοχθηροί μεθ' ὧν συνημερεύσουσιν, ἑαυτοὺς δὲ φεύγουσιν. Arist. ix. 4. III. rable, but commonly the most grateful and fruitful SERM. part of his life: he can ever with much pleasure, and more advantage, converse with himself; digesting and marshalling his thoughts, his affections, his purposes into good order; searching and discussing his heart, reflecting on his past ways, enforcing his former good resolutions, and framing new ones; inquiring after edifying truths; stretching his meditations toward the best and sublimest objects, raising his hopes and warming his affections towards spiritual and heavenly things; asking himself pertinent questions, and resolving incident doubts concerning his practice in fine, conversing with his best friend in devotion; with admiration and love contemplating the divine perfections displayed in the works of nature, of providence, of grace; praising God for his excellent benefits and mercies; confessing his defects and offences; deprecating wrath and imploring pardon, with grace and ability to amend; praying for the supply of all his wants'. All which performances yield both unconceivable benefit and unexpressible comfort. So that solitude (that which is to common nature so offensive, to corrupt nature so abominable) is to the pious man extremely commodious and comfortable: which is a great advantage peculiar to piety, and the last which I shall mention. 1 Acquiescit sibi, cogitationibus suis traditus. Sen. Ep. 9. Sapiens nunquam solus esse potest, habet secum omnes qui sunt, quique unquam fuerunt boni; et animum liberum quocunque vult transfert: quod corpore non potest, cogitatione complectitur; et si hominum inops fuerit, loquitur cum Deo. Nunquam minus solus erit, quam cum solus fuerit. Hier, adv. Jovin. i. 28. SERM. III. So many, and many more than I can express, vastly great and precious advantages do accrue from piety; so that well may we conclude with St. Paul, that godliness is profitable for all things. It remaineth that, if we be wise, we should, if we yet have it not ingraffed in us, labour to acquire it; if we have it, that we should endeavour to improve it, by constant exercise, to the praise of God, the good of our neighbour, and our own comfort. Which that we may effectually perform, Almighty God in mercy vouchsafe, by his grace, through Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom for ever be all glory and praise. Amen. SERMON IV. THE REWARD OF HONOURING GOD. 1 SAM. ii. 30. For them that honour me I will honour. IV. THE words are in the strictest sense the word of SERM. God, uttered immediately by God himself; and may thence command from us an especial attention and regard. The history of that which occasioned them is, I presume, well known; neither shall I make any descant or reflection thereon; but to take the words separately, as a proposition of itself, affording a complete instruction and ample matter of discourse. And as such, they plainly imply two things: a duty required of us to honour God; and a reward proffered to us, upon performance of that duty, being honoured by God. It is natural for us, before we are willing to undertake any work, to consider the reward or benefit accruing from it; and it is necessary, before we can perform any duty, to understand the nature thereof. To this our method of action I shall suit the method of my discourse; first endeavouring to estimate the reward, then to explain the duty. Afterward I mean to shew briefly why in reason the duty is enjoined; how in effect the reward is conferred. IV. SERM. I. The reward may be considered either absolutely, (as what it is in itself;) or relatively, (as to its rise, and whence it comes.) 1. For itself, it is honour; a thing, if valued according to the rate it bears in the common market, of highest price among all the objects of human desire; the chief reward which the greatest actions and which the best actions do pretend unto, or are capable of; that which usually bears most sway in the hearts, and hath strongest influence upon the lives of men; the desire of obtaining and maintaining which doth commonly overbear other most potent inclinations. The love of pleasure stoops thereto : for men, to get or keep reputation, will decline the most pleasant enjoyments, will embrace the hardest pains. Yea, it often prevails over the love of life itself, which men do not only frequently expose to danger, but sometimes devote to certain loss, for its sake. If we observe what is done in the world, we may discern it to be the source of most undertakings therein that it not only moveth the wheels of public action, (that not only for it great princes contend, great armies march, great battles are fought ;) but that from it most private business derives its life and vigour that for honour especially the soldier undergoes hardship, toil, and hazard; the scholar plods and beats his brains; the merchant runs about so busily, and adventures so far; yea, that for its sake the meanest labourer and artificer doth spend his sweat, and stretch his sinews. The principal drift of all this care and industry (the great reason of all this scuffling for power, this searching for knowledge, this scraping and scrambling for wealth) |