THE

CHRISTIAN WORLD

UNMASKED.

GENTLE READER,

LEND

END me a chair, and I will sit down and talk a little with you. If my company proves unseasonable, or my discourse unsavory, you may be relieved from both by a single cast of your eye. No longer shall I continue talking, than you continue looking upon me. My visit will be long or short, just as you please; only while it lasts it should be friendly. I have no flattering words to give you, nor any alms to ask of you. I am come to inquire of your health, and would ask a few questions about it.

Indeed, Sir, I am a physician, was regularly bred to the business, have served more than three apprenticeships at a noted hall of physic, and consumed a deal of candle in lighting up a little understanding; yet am reviled as a mountebank, because I have been seen upon a stage. The Prince of physic set the fashion, and his example satisfies me, though it may not content another.

However, Sir, my business does not lay with the walls of your house, but with the tenant within.

B*

I

bring no advice to strengthen your clay, but wish to see your spirit healed, and to set the heavenly lamp a burning. Give me leave to feel your pulse-sick indeed, Sir, very sick, and of a mortal disease; received from your parents, and which infects your whole mass of blood. There is no health in you: and since you seem not sensible of the malady, I must pronounce you delirious.

Why, you frighten me, Doctor. Sure you were bred at Sion College, with Doctor Whitefield and his brethren. A very hard mouthed race truly! who have dealt so much in emetics, no genteel people will employ them. Their practice layeth chiefly among the poor, who can bear banging.

However, since you are come upon a friendly visit I will tell you honestly what I think of myself. I have my faults as well as my neighbors; but my appetites are pretty well bridled. My heart is honest, quite willing to pay all men their due; my hands too are sometimes disposed to relieve a neighbor's want; and my feet go orderly to church on a sunday, when the bells chime, except it proves a rainy day; and then I read the weekly paper, or a Bible chapter at home, just as it suits my fancy. This I call a regular life, and it is the ground of my hope, not forgetting Jesus Christ, to help out some defects. For I am choleric, no doubt, but it quickly bloweth over; and a little apt to fib in a market, but who can help it? All my neighbors do the same; and my landlord who talks much of his honor, will tell a fib upon occasion as well as myself. Besides, I often bring the parish into good temper when they are out of sorts, by talking in a kind and humorous way, so that I am really

a peace maker. Now from these circumstances it should seem, that I am not mortally sick as you suppose, but enjoy good christian health. Yet I do not like your countenance, it looks so cloudy. What is the matter, Doctor?

Sir, I am grieved at the weak account you have given of yourself. It convinces me you are not sick but dead; dead to God and to his spiritual service. I expected some account of a true christian, and you put me off with the state of a poor heathen, who is somewhat sober and honest and charitable, and worships his God when the weather suits or his inclination serves. I find no trace of a spiritual mind, no taste of a gospel blessing, no earnest of a future inheritance. God's word, I see, is not your sweet companion, his service not your true delight, his glory not your noble aim. Your religion floats upon the surface, like froth upon the water, and is a mere vanity. God has yet no hold of your heart, and you cannot give it him.

If you were a child of God, his spirit would instruct you to love and reverence him with the affections of a child; and by prayer to converse with him daily, as children converse with their parents.

If God were your Father, you would love his house. It would be dear unto you, and a little rain would no more keep you from his courts, than from a fair or market. Where should a child go but to his Father's house? And if a child of God, you would say as David did, "How lovely is thy dwelling place, O Lord! a day in thy courts is better than a thousand spent elsewhere."

If you were a real subject of Christ, the kingdom

which you ask for, in his short prayer, would come and be set up within you; a kingdom of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. He would enable you, not only to profess him, but to love and serve him, and fix your whole dependance upon him. Your bosom would become his presence chamber, where he would manifest himself to you, as he does not to the world; and your heart would be his throne, where he would sit to sanctify your affections, to regulate your tempers, and subdue you to himself.

Jesus Christ is not a pasteboard king, with royal titles but, without authority. He sits upon his holy hill, invested with all power to captivate the hearts of his subjects, and execute his threatened vengeance on his adversaries. And where he brings men under the sway of his sceptre, he bestows the blessings of his kingdom. The Holy Spirit as a comforter is granted; the peace passing all understanding, is given; and God's love is shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost. These jewels are dug only out of gospel mines, and set only in the breast of gospel subjects. And where they are well set, Jesus Christ becomes exceeding dear to such. They know the purchase price he paid, and having tasted of the blessings, they love his person and adore his grace. are now agreed, to know only Jesus crucified. He is their song and boast, hope, their all in all.

Paul and they Christ and him

their peace and

Let me draw my chair a little closer, Sir; plain dealing is exceeding needful here. If you are not a real subject of Jesus Christ, you must be a stranger to the blessings of his kingdom. The jewels I have mentioned are not locked up in your cabinet; they