Now, if we can so frame our will to his, as to think so too, how can we be other than contented? Do we suffer? There is more intended to us, than our smart. It was a good speech of Seneca, though a heathen, (what pity it is that he was so!) "I give thanks to my infirmity, which forces me not to be able to do that, which I ought not will to do." If we lose without, so as we gain within; if, in the perishing of the outward man, the inward man be renewed (2 Cor. iv. 16.), we have no cause to complain, much to rejoice. Do I live in a mean estate? If it were better, I should be worse; more proud, more careless: and what a woeful improvement were this! What a strange creature would man be, if he were what he would wish himself! Surely, he would be wickedly pleasant, carelessly profane, vainly proud, proudly oppressive, dissolutely wanton, impetuously self-willed; and, shortly, his own idol, and his own idolater. His Maker knows how to frame him better: it is our ignorance and unthankfulness, if we submit not to his good pleasure.

To conclude, we pray every day, Thy will be done; what hypocrites are we, if we pray one thing, and act another! if we murmur at what we wish! All is well between heaven and us, if we can think ourselves happy to be what God will have us.

(2.) Secondly, we must resolve To abate of our desires: for it is the illimitedness of our ambitious and covetous thoughts, that is guilty of our unquietness.

Every man would be and have, more than he is; and is, therefore, sick of what he is not. It was a true word of Democritus, "If we desire not much, we shall think a little much:" and it is suitable to one of the rules of St. Augustin; "It is better to need less, than to have more." Paul, "the richest poor man," as Ambrose well, could say, As having all things, yet possessing nothing.

It is not for a Christian, to be of the dragon's temper, which, they say, is so ever thirsty, that no water will quench his drought; and, therefore, never hath his mouth shut: nor, with the daughters of the horse-leach, to cry always, Give, give; Prov. xxx. 15. He must confine his desires; and that, to no over-large compass: and must say to them, as God doth to the sea, Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further; and here shall thy proud waves be stayed; Job. xxxviii. 11.

What a cumber it is, for a man to have too much! to be in the case of Surena, the Parthian lord, that could never remove his family with less than a thousand camels! What is this, but, tortoise-like, to be clogged with a weighty shell, which we cannot drag after us, but with pain? Or, like the ostrich, to be so held down with a heavy body, that we can have no use of our

* Ambros. de Vitiorum et Virtutum Conflictu.

wings? Whereas, the nimble lark rises and mounts, with ease; and sings cheerfully, in her flight.

How many have we known, that have found too much flesh a burden! and, when they have found their blood too rank, have been glad to pay for the letting it out! It was the word of that old and famous Lord Keeper Bacon, the eminent head of a noble and witty family, Mediocria firma. There is neither safety, nor true pleasure, in excess. It was a wise and just answer of Zeno, the philosopher; who, reproving the superfluity of a feast, and hearing by way of defence that the maker of it was a great rich man and might well spare it, said; "If thy cook shall oversalt thy broth, and when he is chid for it, shall say, 'I have store enough of salt lying by me,' wouldest thou take this for a fair answer?"

My son, eat thou honey, saith Solomon; because it is good; Prov. xxiv. 13. but, to be sure, for the preventing of all immoderation, he adds soon after; Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient for thee, lest thou be filled therewith; Prov. xxv. 16. "If our appetite carry us too far, we may easily surfeit. This, which is the emblem of pleasure, must be tasted, as Dionysius the Sophist said of old, on the tip of the finger; not to be supped up in the hollow of the hand.

It is with our desires, as it is with weak stomachs; the quantity offends, even where the food is not unwholesome and, if heed be not taken, one bit draws on another, till nature be overlaid. Both pleasures and profits, if way be given to them, have too much power to debauch the mind, and to work it to a kind of insatiableness. There is a thirst, that is caused with drunkenness; and the wanton appetite, like as they said of Messalina, may be wearied, but cannot be satisfied. It is good therefore, to give austere repulses to the first overtures of inordinate desires; and to give strong denials to the first unruly motions of our hearts: for, St. Chrysostom, well; "Pleasure is like a dog, which, being coyed and stroked, follows us at the heels; but if rated and beaten off, is driven away from us with ease.'

It is for the Christian heart, to be taken up with other desires; such as, wherein there can be no danger of immoderateness these are the holy longings after grace and goodness. This only covetousness, this ambition, is pleasing to God, and infinitely beneficial to the soul. Blessed are they which hunger and thirst after righteousness; for they shall be filled; Matt. v. 6. Spiritual blessings are the true riches; whereof we can never have enough. St. Ambrose' said truly, "No man is indeed wealthy, that cannot carry away what he hath with him. What is left behind, is not ours; but other men's. Contemn thou while thou art alive, that, which thou canst not enjoy, when thou art dead."

Ambros. Epist. 27.

As for this earthly trash and the vain delights of the flesh, which we have so fondly doted on, we cannot carry them indeed away with us; but the sting of the guilty mis-enjoying of them, will be sure to stick by us; and, to our sorrow, attend us both in death and judgment. In sum therefore, if we would be truly contented, and happy, our hearts can never be enough enlarged, in our desires of spiritual and heavenly things: never too much contracted, in our desires of earthly.

(3.) Our third resolution must be, to inure ourselves To digest smaller discontentments; and, by the exercise thereof to enable ourselves for greater: as those, that drink medicinal waters, begin first with smaller quantities; and by degrees arise, at last, to the highest of their prescribed measure: or, as the wise Lacedemonians, by early scourgings of their boys, inured them, in their riper years, to more painful sufferings. A strong Milo takes up his calf at first; and, by continual practice, is now able to carry it, when it is grown a bull.

Such is our self-love, that we affect ever to be served of the best; and that we are apt to take great exceptions at small failings. We would walk always in smooth and even paths, and would have no hindrances in our passage: but, there is no remedy; we must meet with rubs, and perhaps cross shins, and take falls too in our way. Every one is willing and desirous to enjoy, as they say the city of Rhodes doth, a perpetual sunshine: but we cannot, if we be wise, but know, that we must meet with change of weather; with rainy days, and sometimes storms and tempests. It must be our wisdom, to make provision accordingly; and, some whiles, to abide a wetting; that, if need be, we may endure a drenching also.

It was the policy of Jacob, when he was to meet with his brother Esau, whom he feared an enemy, but found a friend; to send the droves first; then, his handmaids, and their children; then, Leah, with her children; and, at last, came Joseph and Rachael; Gen. xxxii. 14, &c. and xxxiii. 5, 6, &c. as one, that would adventure the less dear, in the first place; and, if it must be, to prepare himself for his dearest loss. St. Paul's companions in his perilous sea-voyage, first, lighten the ship of less necessaries: then, they cast out the tackling; then, the wheat; and, in the last place, themselves; Acts, xxvii. 18, 19. It is the use, that wise Socrates made of the sharp tongues of his cross and unquiet wives, to prepare his patience for public sufferings. Surely, he, that cannot endure a frown, will hardly take a blow: and he, that doubles under a light cross, vill sink under a heavier: and, contrarily, that good martyr prepares his whole body for the faggot, with burning his hand in the candle.

I remember Seneca, in one of his Epistles, rejoices much, to tell with what patient temper he took it, that, coming unexpect

edly to his country-house, he found all things so discomposed, that no provision was ready for him; finding more contentment in his own quiet apprehension of these wants, than trouble in that unreadiness: and thus should we be affected, upon all occasions. Those, that promised me help, have disappointed me: that friend, on whom I relied, hath failed my trust: the sum, that I expected, comes not in at the day: my servant slackens the business enjoined him: the beast that I esteemed highly, is lost the vessel, in which I shipped some commodities, is wrecked: my diet and attendance must be abated: I must be dislodged of my former habitation: How do I put over these occurrences? If I can make light work of these lesser crosses, I am in a good posture to entertain greater.

:

To this purpose, it will be not a little expedient, to thwart our appetite, in those things, wherein we placed much delight; and to torture our curiosity, in the delay of those contentments, which we too eagerly affected. It was a noble and exemplary government of these passions, which we find in King David; who, being extremely thirsty, and longing for a speedy refreshment, could say, Oh, that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem! but, when he saw that water purchased with the hazard of the lives of three of his Worthies, when it was brought to him he would not drink it, but poured it out unto the Lord; 2 Sam. xxiii. 15, 16, 17. Have I a mind to some one curious dish, above the rest? I will put my knife to my throat; and not humour my palate, so far, as to taste of it. Do I receive a letter of news from a far country, overnight? it shall keep my pillow warm till the morning. Do my importunate recreations call me away? they shall, against the hair, be forcibly adjourned till a further leisure.

as

Out of this ground it was, that the ancient votaries observed such austerity and rigour, in their diet, clothes, lodging; those, that knew how requisite it is, that nature should be held short of her demands, and continually exercised with denials, lest she grow too wanton and impetuous in her desires. That, which was of old given as a rule to Monastic persons, is fit to be extended to all Christians: They may not have a will of their own; but must frame themselves to such a condition and carriage, as seems best to their Superior.

If, therefore, it please my God, to send me some little comfort, I shall take that as an earnest of more: and, if he exercise me with lesser crosses, I shall take them as preparatives to greater: and endeavour to be thankful for the one, and patient in the other; and contented with God's hand, in both. (4.) Our last resolution must be, To be frequent and fervent in our prayers to the Father of all Mercies, that he will be pleased to work our hearts, by the power of his Spirit, to this constant state of Contentation; without which, we can neither

consider the things that belong to our inward peace, nor dispose ourselves towards it, nor resolve ought for the effecting it; without which, all our Considerations, all our Dispositions, all our Resolutions, are vain and fruitless. Justly, therefore, doth the blessed Apostle, after his charge of avoiding all carefulness for these earthly things, enforce the necessity of our Prayers and Supplications, and making our requests known unto God; Phil. iv. 6. who both knows our need, and puts these requests into our mouths. When we have all done, they are the requests of our hearts, that must free them from cares, and frame them to a perfect contentment.

There may be a kind of dull and stupid neglect, which possessing the soul, may make it insensible of evil events, in some natural dispositions; but a true temper of a quiet and peaceable estate of the soul, upon good grounds, can never be attained, without the inoperation of that Holy Spirit, from whom every good gift, and every perfect giving proceedeth; James i. 17.

It is here contrary to these earthly occasions: with men, he, that is ever craving, is never contented: but, with God, he cannot want contentment, that prays always.

If we be not unacquainted with ourselves, we are so conscious of our own weakness, that we know every puff of temptation is able to blow us over: they are only our prayers, that must stay us from being carried away, with the violent assaults of discontentment; under which, a praying soul can no more miscarry, than an indevout soul can enjoy safety.

PART THE SECOND.

CONTENTATION, IN KNOWING HOW TO ABOUND.

The Difficulty of Knowing how to abound: and the Ill Consequences of Not Knowing it.

LET this be enough for the remedy of those distempers which arise from an Adverse condition.

As for PROSPERITY, every man thinks himself wise and able enough, to know how to govern it, and himself in it. A happy estate, we imagine, will easily manage itself, without too much care. Give me but sea-room, saith the confident mariner; and let me alone, whatever tempest arise.

Surely, the great Doctor of the Gentiles had never made this holy boast of his divine skill, I know how to abound, if it had been so easy a matter, as the world conceives it. Mere ignorance, and want of self-experience, is guilty of this error.