The _bulk_ of mankind are so dull and tasteless, and illiterate, as to set their hearts upon _current coin_. But great learning has raised some men above this vulgar grossness of taste. Their heart does not beat but at the sight of a _medal_, or an ancient coin. And they are only afraid of dying before they have out-done the world for their collections of _shells_, _skins_, _stones_, _flies_, and _insects_. V. *When men retire into their studies to _change_ their nature; to _correct_ and _reform_ their passions; to find out the folly, the falseness, the corruption and weakness of their hearts; to penetrate into the vanity and emptiness of all worldly attainments; when they read and meditate, to fill their souls with heavenly affections, and to raise their hearts unto God; when this is _learning_, (and what else deserves the name?) then learning will lead men unto God; then learned men will be devout, and great _scholars_ will be great _saints_. VI. Many people are thus far sincere in their devotions, that they would be glad to pray devoutly; they strive to be fervent, but never attain to it, because they never took the only possible way. They never thought of altering their lives, or of living different from the rest of the world; but hope to be devout merely by reading over books of devotion: which is as odd a fancy, as if a man should expect to be happy, by reading discourses upon happiness. When these people dare take Christianity, as it is offered to them in the gospel; when they deny themselves, and renounce the world, they then will have begun devotion. _Trebonius_ asks how often he shall pray? He thinks the nicety of the question shews the _piety_ of his heart. But _Trebonius_ is deceived, for the question proves, that he is a stranger to devotion. _Trebonius_ has a friend; he is constantly visiting him; he is never well out of his company. If he is absent, letters are sent at all opportunities. Now what is the reason that he never asks how often he shall visit, how often he shall delight in, how often he shall write to his friend? It is because his friend has his heart, and his heart is his faithful and sufficient instructor. When _Trebonius_ has given his heart to God, he will have done asking how often he shall pray. _Julius_ goes to prayers; he confesses himself to be a miserable sinner; he accuses himself to God with all the aggravations that can be, as having no _health_ in him. Yet _Julius_ cannot bear to be informed of any imperfection, or suspected to be wanting in any degree of virtue. Now, can there be a stronger proof, that _Julius_ is wanting in the sincerity of his devotions? Is not this a plain sign, that his confessions to God are only words of _course_, an humble _civility_ of speech to his Maker, in which his heart had no share?