_Eusebius_ would read prayers _twice_ a day in his _parish_; he would be often with the poor and sick, and spend much time in charitable visits; he would be wholly taken up with the _care_ of souls, but that he is busy in studying the _old grammarians_, and would fain _reconcile_ some differences amongst them before he dies.
VIII. _Lycia_ might be pious; but that she is too _easy, gay_, and _chearful_, to admit of care of any kind. She can no more _repent_, than she can be _out of temper_, and must be the same _sparkling, chearful_ creature in the _church_, as in the _play-house_. She might be capable of understanding the misery of human nature, and the necessity of the comforts of religion; but that she is so happy every time she is _dressed_.
_Matrona_ is old, and has been these _fifty years_ eating and drinking, sleeping and waking, dressing and undressing, _paying_ and _receiving visits_. She has no prophaneness; and, if she has no piety, it is owing to this, that she never had a _spare half-hour_ to think about it. She envies her daughters, because they will _dress_ and _visit_ when she is dead.
*_Publius_ goes to _church_ sometimes, and reads the scripture; but he knows not what he reads or prays, his head is so full of politics. He is so angry at _Kings_ and Ministers of State, that he has no time or disposition to call himself to account. He has the history of all _parliaments, elections, prosecutions_, and _impeachments_, and dies with little or no religion, through a constant fear of popery.
_Siccus_ has been all his life long _building_ and _ pulling down_, making _canals_ and _ditches_, raising _walls_ and _fences_. People call him a good man, because he employs the poor: _Siccus_ might have been a _religious_ man, but that he thought _building_ was the chief happiness of a rational creature. He is all the week amongst _dirt_ and _mortar_, and stays at home on _Sundays_ to view his contrivances. He will die more contentedly, if his death does not happen whilst some _wall_ is in building.
IX. I have mentioned these several _characters_ to shew, that it is not only _prophaneness, debauchery_, and _open vices_, that keep men from the impressions of true religion; but that the mere _play-things_ of life, impertinent _studies_, vain _amusements_, false _satisfactions_, idle _dispositions_, will produce the same effect. A _wrong_ turn of mind, _impertinent cares_, a succession of the _poorest trifles_, if they take up our thoughts, leave no more room for true piety than gross sensuality.
X. We see even in worldly matters, that if we propose any thing to a man, when he is in the pursuit of something else, he hardly hears or understands us; we must stay for a season of more leisure and indifference, till his thoughts and passions are at rest.
Now this holds much stronger in matters of religion. Its doctrines are neither heard nor understood, because it always finds us in the pursuit of _something else_. It matters not what this _something else_ is; the mind is equally employed wrong, and so not in a condition to like, or at leisure to listen to any other happiness. If you were to propose the same truths to a man in another state, when weariness or disappointment has made him give up all designs, or when sickness or the approach of death shews him that he must act no longer in them, they would have quite another effect upon him; then the great things of religion appear great indeed. He _feels_ their whole weight, and is amazed he did not see them always in the same manner. Now it is the great end and design of _self-denial_ to put a stop to the follies of life, that our souls may quietly consider, and fully comprehend the truths which come from God; that our hearts being at liberty from a croud of foolish thoughts, may be ready to obey and co-operate with the _inspirations_ of that Spirit, which is to lead and quicken us in all holiness; that _death_ and _judgment_, _heaven_ and _hell_, may make as deep impressions upon our minds in the middle of our lives, as at our last hour; that we may be as wise and prudent as _sick_ and _dying_ men, and live with such apprehensions as most people die with; that we may see the vanity of the world, the misery of sin, the greatness of eternity, and the want of God, as they see it who stand upon the brink of another world.
XI. This is the great and happy work of self-denial, to awaken us into a true knowledge of ourselves, and shew us who, and where, and what we are. Till then our life is but a _sleep_, a _dream_, a mere succession of shadows; and we act with as little reason as a child that is pleased with blowing about a _feather_. We must therefore not only deny our wicked inclinations, but also all our follies, impertinences, and vain satisfactions: for, as plain and known sins harden and corrupt, so impertinences and vain satisfactions delude and blind our hearts, and render them insensible of our real misery, or true happiness.