_A dialogue between |Theogenes|, |Eusebius|, and |Theophilus|._
_Eusebius._ THE doctrine of the spirit of love, cannot have more power over me, or be more deeply rooted in me, than it is already. It has so gained possession of my whole heart, that every thing else must be under its dominion. I can do nothing else but love; it is my whole nature, I have no taste for any thing else. Can this matter be carried higher in practice?
_Theophilus._ No higher, _Eusebius_. And was this the true state of your heart, you would bid fair to leave the world as _Elijah_ did. For was there nothing but this divine love alive in you, your fallen flesh and blood would be in danger of being burnt up by it. What you have said of yourself, you have spoken in great sincerity, but in a total ignorance of yourself, and of the spirit of divine love. You are as yet only charmed with the sight, or rather the sound of it; its real birth is as yet unfelt, and unfound in you. Your natural complexion has a great deal of the animal meekness and softness of the _lamb_, and the _dove_; your blood and spirit are of this turn; and therefore a God all love, and a religion all love, quite transport you; and you are so delighted with it, that you fancy you have nothing in you, but this religion of love. But, my friend, bear with me, if I tell you, that all this is only the _good part_ of the spirit of this world, and may be in any unregenerate man, that is of your complexion. It is so far from being a genuine fruit of divine love, that if it be not well looked to, it may prove a real hindrance of it, as it oftentimes does, by its appearing to be that which it is not.
You have quite forgot all that was said in the letter to you on the spirit of love. You may love it as much as you please, think it the most charming thing in the world, fancy every thing but dross and dung, in comparison of it, and yet have no more of it in you, than the blind man has of that light, of which he has got a most charming notion.
_Eusebius._ But if I am got no farther than this, what good have I from giving in so heartily to all that you have said of this doctrine?
_Theophilus._ Your error lies in this; you confound two things, which are entirely distinct from each other. You make no difference betwixt the _doctrine_, that only sets forth the nature, excellency, and necessity of the spirit of love, and the _spirit_ of _love_ itself; which yet are two things so different, that you may be quite full of the former, and at the same time quite empty of the latter. I have said every thing that I could, to shew you the excellency and necessity of the spirit of love: it is of infinite importance to you to be well established in the belief of this doctrine. But all that I have said of it, is only to encourage you to buy it, at its own price, and to give all that for it, which alone can purchase it. But if you think you have got it, because you are so highly pleased with that which you have heard of it, you only embrace the shadow, instead of the substance.
_Eusebius._ What is the price that I must give for it?
_Theophilus._ You must give up all that you are, and all that you have from fallen _Adam_; for all that you are and have from him, is that life of flesh and blood, which cannot enter into the kingdom of God.
_Adam_, after his fall, had nothing that was good in him, nothing that could inherit an eternal life in heaven, but a seed of grace. Every thing else in him was devoted to death, that this _incorruptible seed_ might grow up in Christ Jesus.
_Theogenes._ I am afraid the matter is much worse with me, than it is with _Eusebius_. For tho’ this doctrine, seems to have got all my heart, as it is a doctrine; yet I am continually thrown out of it in practice, and find myself as much under the power of my old tempers and passions, as I was before I was so full of this doctrine.
_Theophilus._ You are to know, my friends, that every kind of virtue and goodness, may be brought into us, by two different ways. They may be taught us outwardly by men, by rules and precepts; and they may be inwardly wrought in us. In the former way, as we learn them only from men, they at best, only change our outward behaviour, leave our heart in its natural state, only put our passions under a forced restraint, which will occasionally break forth, in spite of precept and doctrine. Now this way of learning goodness, tho’ thus imperfect, is yet absolutely necessary, in the nature of the thing, and must first have its time, and place, and work in us; yet it is only for a time, as the _law_ was a school-master to the _gospel_. We must first be babes in doctrine, as well as in strength, before we can be men. But of all this outward instruction, whether from good men, or the _letter_ of scripture, it must be said, as the apostle saith of the law, _that it maketh nothing perfect_.