11. *Let us suppose a _person_ placed somewhere alone, in the midst of a variety of things which he did not know how to use; that he has by him _bread_, _wine_, _water_, _golden dust_, _iron chains_, _gravel_, _garments_, _fire_. Let it be supposed, that he has no knowledge, nor any directions from his _senses_, how to quench his _thirst_, or satisfy his _hunger_, or make _any use_ of the things about him. Let it be supposed, that in his drought he puts _golden dust_ into his eyes; when his _eyes_ smart, he puts _wine_ into his _ears_: that in his hunger, he puts _gravel_ in his mouth; that in pain, he loads himself with _iron chains_; that feeling cold, he puts his feet in the water; that being frighted at the fire, he runs away from it; that being weary, he makes a _seat_ of his _bread_. Let it be supposed, that thro’ his ignorance of the right use of the things that are about him, he will vainly torment himself whilst he lives; and at last die, _blinded_ with _dust_, _choaked_ with _gravel_, and loaded with _irons_. Let it be supposed, that some good being came to him, and shewed him the nature and use of all the things that were about him, and gave him such _strict rules_ of using them, as would certainly, if observed, make him the happier for all that he had, and deliver him from the pains of hunger, and thirst, and cold.
Now, could you with any reason affirm, that those strict rules of using those things that were about him, had rendered that poor man’s life _dull_ and _uncomfortable_?
12. This is, in some measure, a representation of the _strict_ rules of religion; they only relieve our ignorance, save us from tormenting ourselves, and teach us to use _every thing_ about us to our advantage.
Man is placed in a world full of variety of things; his ignorance makes him use many of them as absurdly, as the man that put _dust_ in his _eyes_ to relieve his _thirst_, or put on chains to remove pain.
Religion therefore here comes in to his relief, and gives him _strict rules_ of using every thing that is about him; that by so using them suitably to his own nature and the nature of the things, he may have always the pleasure of receiving benefit from them. It shews him what is strictly right in meat, and drink, and cloaths; and that he has nothing else to expect from the things of this world, but to satisfy such wants of his own; and then to extend his assistance to all his brethren, that, as far as he is able, he may help all his fellow-creatures to the same benefit from the world that he hath.
13. *It tells him, that this world is incapable of giving him any other happiness; and that all endeavours to be happy in _heaps_ of _money_, or _acres_ of _land_, in fine _cloaths_, rich _beds_, stately _equipage_, and _shew_ and _splendour_, are only vain endeavours, ignorant attempts after impossibilities; these things be no more able to give the least degree of happiness, than _dust_ in the eyes can cure thirst, or _gravel_ in the mouth satisfy hunger; but, like dust and gravel misapplied, will only serve to render him more unhappy by such an ignorant misuse of them.
It tells him, altho’ this world can do no more for him, than satisfy these wants of the body; yet there is a much greater good prepared for man, than eating, drinking, and dressing; that it is yet invisible to his eyes, being too glorious for the apprehension of flesh and blood; but reserved for him to enter upon, as soon as this short life is over; where, in a new body, formed to an angelic likeness, he shall dwell in the light and glory of God to all eternity.
*It tells him, that this state of glory will be given to all those that make a _right use_ of the things of this present world; who do not blind themselves with _golden dust_, or eat _gravel_, or groan under loads of _iron_ of their own putting on; but use _bread_, _water_, _wine_, and _garments_ for such ends as are according to _nature_ and _reason_; and who with faith and thankfulness worship the kind giver of all that they enjoy here, and hope for hereafter.
14. Now can any one say, that the strictest rules of such a religion as this, debar us of any of the comforts of life? Might it not as justly be said of those rules, that only ♦hindered a man from _choaking_ himself with _gravel_? For the strictness of these rules only consists in the exactness of their rectitude.
♦ ‘hindred’ replaced with ‘hindered’
*Who would complain of the severe strictness of a law, that without any exception forbad the putting of dust into our eyes? Who could think it too rigid, that there were no abatements? Now this is the _strictness_ of religion; it requires nothing of us strictly, or without abatements, but where every degree of the thing is wrong, where every indulgence does us hurt.