8. The imprudence of this lame way of serving God (which I was to shew in the second place) appears first from this, that it is insufficient. Such a half religion can never hold weight in the balance of the sanctuary. Such men, ’tis true, are almost good; but almost to hit the mark is really to miss it. For religion consists in an entire love of God, and an effectual resolution to obey him. Even a bad man may love what is good in some degree, but not with an effectual, prevailing love. This therefore is what denominates a man good, when religion is the commanding ♦bias of his soul. And none but those who are thus thoroughly good, are so good as to be fit for happiness. To make us capable of that, there must be a peculiar frame of mind, to affect which in us is the one business of religion. And if it does this only almost, and by halves, as it can never bring us to heaven, so neither if it could, would it be able to make us happy there.
♦ “biass” replaced with “bias”
*9. This imperfect piety is farther condemned by Christian prudence as very absurd. If we did not intend to go through, why did we set out? If we did, why do we stop? If we think there is no reason in religion, why do we any thing? But if we think there is, why don’t we do enough? For the same reason that we do so much, why don’t we do more? For either religion has truth on its side, or not. If not, why do we take so much labour _needlesly_? But if it has, why do we take so much labour _in vain_? ’Tis, I own, a strange piece of even brutal indifference, to do nothing in order to our eternal happiness: and, yet, methinks, to do a part only, has something in it more extravagant than the other. He that does nothing, whatever he loses besides, has yet no labour to lose. But to labour by halves, is to lose the same good, and all that we do in order to it. The atheist and libertine have something to pretend; but the half-religious has no excuse; since that very religion he has will condemn him, as an inconsistent, unprincipled fool.
10. The last censure of Christian prudence upon the half-way state of piety, is, that it is very unhappy, I mean even in this world. The almost Christian is the _double-minded man_ St. _James_ speaks of, who has two wills, one for God and another for the world, between which he variously fluctuates. Such an one is _unstable in all his ways_: he is a mixed, doubtful, unsettled, wavering creature, never out of perplexities and intanglements, always disconformable to himself, doing what he would not, and not doing what he would and should, never long satisfied with himself. He has indeed a kindness for religion, but he has a greater kindness for something else; so that his religion just serves to disturb the enjoyment of his lusts, as his lusts to deprive him of the comfort of his religion. Nor can he be perfectly at peace with himself, but by being thoroughly wicked or thoroughly good. So wicked as to _have his conscience sear’d with a hot iron_, or so good as to act up to his principles. He must be of a single mind, one way or the other, before he can be at rest. And yet this double-mindedness is the state in which most men chuse to live and die, having religion enough to disturb them in their sins, but not enough to engage them to part with them.
*11. And now methinks, I hear one saying within himself, _Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian_. Alas! why not _quite_? Is it that we want the art of address, that we do not touch the right spring of your soul? But sure our cause has weight enough to bear itself out, and to supply any defect in the management of it. For is there not truth and reason enough in religion, to gain a reasonable creature? Or can any motive have a greater force or persuasion, than the joys of heaven and the pains of hell? Or do you question whether God be able to reward your entire love and compleat obedience? If you indeed _believe that_ God _is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him_, as even your indifferent way of serving him seems to suppose, then you must needs think it wisdom, to lift up the hands that hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees; to be heartily and thoroughly religious, and not to be guilty of so inconsistent a folly as to take _some_ pains all your life for heaven, and yet go at last to hell.