of the necessity of labouring after all the perfection that you are capable of; for the apostle expressly saith, that without these tempers, the very tongues of angels are but as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. Do not therefore imagine, that it only belongs to people of a particular piety and turn of mind, to labour after their perfection, and that you may go to heaven with much less care; there is only one straight gate, and one narrow way that leadeth unto life, and there is no admission, but for those who strive to enter into it. If you are not striving, you neglect the express condition which our Lord requires, and it is flat nonsense to think that you strive, if you do not use all your strength. The apostle represents a Christian's striving for eternal life in this manner, Know ye not that they which run in a race, run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run that ye may obtain. So that, according to the apostle, he only is in the road to salvation, who is so contending for it, as he that is running in a race. Farther; you can have no satisfaction that you are sincere in any one virtue, unless you are endeavouring to be perfect in all the instances of it. If you allow yourself in any defects of charity, you have no reason to think yourself sincere in any acts of charity. If you indulge yourself in any instances of pride, you render all your acts of humility justly suspected, because there can be no true reason for charity, but what is as good a reason for all instances of charity; nor any religious motive for humility, but what is as strong a motive for all degrees of humility. So that he who allows himself in any known defect of charity, humility, or any other virtue, cannot be supposed to practise any instances of that virtue upon true reasons of religion. For if it was a right fear of God, a true desire of being like Christ, a hearty love of my fellow-creatures, that made me give alms,the same dispositions would make

me love and forgive all my enemies, and deny myself all kinds of revenge, and spight and ecil-speaking.

So that if I allow myself in known instances of uncharitableness, I have as much reason to suppose myself void of true charity, as if I allowed myself in a refusal of such alms as I am able to give; because every instance of uncharitableness is the same sin against all the reasons of charity, as the allowed refusal of alms. For the refusal of alms is only a great sin, because it shows that we have not a right fear of God, that we have not a hearty desire of being like Christ, that we want a true love of our fellow-creature. Now, as every allowed instance of uncharitableness shows a want of all these tempers; so it shows, that every such instance is the same sin, and sets us as far from God, as the refusal of alms.

To forbear from spight and evil-speaking, is a proper instance of Christian charity; but yet it is such a charity as will not profit those who are not charitable in alms, because by refusing alms, they sin against as many reasons of charity, as he that lives in spight and evil-speaking. And on the other hand, he that allows himself in spight and evil-speaking, sins against all the same reasons of charity, as he that lives in the refusal of alms. This is a doctrine that cannot be too much reflected upon, by all. those who would practise a piety that is pleasing to God.

Too many christians look at some instances of virtue which they practise, as a sufficient atonement for their known defects in some other parts of the same virtue. Not considering that this is as absurd as to think to make some apparent acts of justice, compound for other allowed instances of fraud.

A lady is perhaps satisfied with her humility, because she can look at some apparent instances of it; she sometimes visits hospitals and alms-houses, and is very familiar and condescending to the poor.

Now these are very good things; but then it may be, that these very things are looked upon as sufficient proofs of humility; she patches and paints, and delights in all the show and ornaments of personal pride, and is very easy with herself because she visits the hospitals. Now she should consider, that she places her humility in that which is but a part, and also the smallest and most deceitful part of it. For the hardest, the greatest, and most essential part of humility, is to have low opinions of ourselves, to love our own meanness, and to renounce all such things as gratify the pride and vanity of our nature. Humility also is much better discovered by our behaviour towards our equals and superiors, than towards those who are so much below us. It does no hurt to a proud heart, to stoop to some low offices to the meanest people. Nay, there is something in it that may gratify pride; for perhaps our own greatness is never seen to more advantage, than when we stoop to those who are so far below us. The lower the people are to whom we stoop, the better they show the height of our own state. So that there is nothing difficult in these condescentions, they are no contradictions to pride.

The truest trial of humility, is our behaviour towards our equals, and those that are our superiors or inferiors but in a small degree. It is no sign of humility, for a private gentleman to pay a profound reverence, and show great submission to a king; nor is it any sign of humility, for the same person to condescend to great familiarity with a poor almsman. For he may act upon the same principle in both cases.

It does not hurt him to show great submission to a king, because he has no thoughts of being equal to a king; and for the same reason it does not hurt him to condescend to poor people, because he never imagines that they will think themselves equal to him.

So that it is the great inequality of condi

tion, that makes it as easy for people to condescend to those who are a great way below them, as to be submissive and yielding to those who are vastly above them.

From this appears, that our most splendid acts of virtue, which we think to be sufficient to atone for our other known defects, may themselves be so vain and defective, as to have no worth in them. This also shows us the absolute necessity of labouring after all instances of perfection in every virtue, because if we pick and choose what parts of any virtue we will perform, we sin against all the same reasons, as if we neglected all parts of it. If we choose to give instead of forgiving, we choose something else instead of charity.

Thirdly, 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; forasmuch as ye know, that our labour will not be 1 Cor. xv. in vain in the Lord. This is an exhortation founded upon solid reason; for what can be so wise and 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, as the Preacher saith, but vanity of vanities, all is vanity. 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 purity, 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 and refreshment. 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.

Now stand still here a while, and ask yourself, whether you really believe this to be true, that the more perfect we make ourselves here, the more happy we shall be hereafter. If you do not believe this to be strictly true, you know nothing of God or religion. And if you do believe it to be true, is it possible to be awake, and not aspiring after Christian perfection? What can you think of, what can the world show 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?

If you would now devote yourself to perfection, perhaps you must part with some friends, you must displease some relations, you must lay aside some designs, 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 to die less perfect, less prepared for mansions of eternal glory? But 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